#i hope you all get mauled by rabid animals | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bougiebutchbinch · 1 month ago

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okay. so.

Interdimensional gladiator fights are happening across the multiverse. Logan (Wade's Wolverine) takes on a bit of merc-work, infiltrating this ring for the TVA - but he misses his worry-date.

And Wade is worried.

So, obviously, he does something about it.

Off he trots, hunting the perpetrators of these matches through multiple dimensions. And every time, he sees people being treated like fucking animals, revved up on magic ultraviolence 'roids and let loose on each other to tear each other apart in front of a cheering crowd. And his worry about what happened to Logan grows. And it grows. And it grows.

Wade works his way up through the different levels of the fight club as a high-paying gambler. No one suspects him of trying to take down the operation - why would they? He's a Wade variant; they get up to all kinds of shady shit. He rubs shoulders with some of the galaxy's most hedonistic and hideous. He watches people - adults, mothers, kids - fight to the death. He intervenes where he can, but not nearly enough -

Because he has to maintain his cover until he finds Logan.

And Logan is nowhere to be found.

Eventually, Wade weasels his way into a top-rollers-only match, underground even by the standards of this exclusive club. He even flashes enough money around to get a chance to meet the 'competitors' beforehand!

And at last... one of them is Logan.

Hunched up in a cage barely larger than he is. Muzzled. Fur bristling all down his bare back.

Wade steps forwards, lips parting under his mask, hands clenching into fists. He doesn't mean to - but he says Logan's name.

The only problem being, there's no response.

Oh, Logan reacts. Snarling, growling, thrashing against the bars of his cage. But there's no recognition there. He's furious. Feral. A drip line punches into the flesh of his forearm, clamped in place with a metal cuff so his healing factor can't work it back out. And he looks at Wade like he's a piece of raw meat. Like Logan wants to shred him like pulled pork at a Texan BBQ.

"I," says Wade, in his best Harrison Ford impersonsation, "have got a bad feeling about this."

The woman who let Wade down into this gloomy warehouse basement, gives him a sidelong look.

"You know this man?"

Wade tries for an innocent blink, though his mask kinda kills the effect. "Everyone knows the Wolverine."

The woman shakes her head, backing up towards the exit. "Not everyone stares at him like that. Fuck. We're busted! Shut the operation down!"

She turns tail and flees. Just before the heavy-duty door to the warehouse clamps shut.

Perfect. Just what Wade needs.

He rushes to Logan, pulling the temppad out of his pocket. "Oh, buddy, I gotta call PETA... this is just blatant animal abuse. Kay, hang tight, I'm gonna get you outta here - "

But before he can activate the temppad, some external control must activate, because the cage door flies open. Smacking the temppad out of his hand.

"Owie!" Wade dives for it, hoping for a perfect catch - but something smacks him in the gut before his fingers brush the hi-tech glass. Three-hundred sweaty, musk-stinking, feral pounds of something.

The last thing he sees is Wolverine tearing off his muzzle, before his teeth clamp down on Wade's neck.

Or at least, it's the last thing he sees until he opens his eyes again.

"Owie," he tries to repeat, but nothing comes out but gurgles and air. Wade winces, holding a hand in front of his throat. He strokes the mauled skin, finding bloody tooth marks still in the process of healing. "Wow. Perfect tracheostomy hole. Have you conisdered a career in medicine?"

Obviously, the words don't make any sound - but the wheeze of his breath is enough to make the shadowed figure, crouched in the corner of the room, twist towards him and growl.

Wolvie's still here. They're still locked in the basement. And Wolvie's eyes are still rabid monstrosities, the whites showing all around, not his own.

He pounces once more. Charging towards Wade, teeth bared, claws out, muscles bulging. And - damn, this would be sooooo hot if only there was a glimmer of recognition in his eyes.

"Sun's going down, big guy!" Wade babbles, springing to his feet. Scanning the ground for the temppad. "Sun's going down!"

His voice finally breaks through, vocal cords healing, trachea sealing shut. He dives out of the way of Wolverine's stampede, leaving it till the last second, just for funsies. Which - whoops. Might've been a bad idea. Whatever drugs they've pumped Logan full of must amplify his reflexes as well as his anger, because he spins on a fucking sixpence and drags his claws down Wade's front, spilling his guts onto the warehouse floor in a steaming pile.

"Are you kidding me?" Wade wails. He drops to his knees, digging his hands into the mess. "How'm I meant to find the temppad under all this? Needle in a haystack, move aside. This is like trying to find a temppad in a pile of upsetty spaghetti..."

Wolverine crouches close by, still growling. Claws dripping with Wade's blood. Oh, he's a picture. Fur bristling. Shoulders bunched. The low light catches on the flecks of spit that drip from his bloodstained muzzle. Wade would let him maul him all day - if only he could be sure Wolvie was enjoying it, too.

But right now, if he looks past the ferocious expression and the aggressive body language...

All Wade sees in Logan's eyes is fear.

That hits like a lead slug to the prefrontal cortext. Wade isn't a guy who gets angry easily, as a rule. He's pretty chill. With most things, he can see the funny side.

But there is no funny side, here. Whatever these bastards did to his honeybadger, it changed him. It hurt him. And Wade would love to go hunt each person in charge of this crummy fight club down and tear them into itty bitty pieces - if only getting Logan calm and returning them somewhere safe, wasn't his top priority.

Hm. Maybe it's time to try a different tack.

Wade staggers to his feet. Blood still gushing from his emptying abdominal cavity, intestines unspooling on the floor.

"I'm not here to hurt you," he says, gentle. Raising his hands. "It's me. Wade. You remember me, don't you, kitty-cat? Your little spoon? Your goofy goober? Your silly rabbit?"

Logan bunches his thighs, growl deepening. Springs again. But this time, Wade's ready.

As Logan crashes into him, bearing him to the floor, Wade wraps his arms around him. Not in a judo-lock, or any sort of funky wrestling move. Just. A hug.

He holds him. Even as Logan buries his teeth in his shoulder, thrashing his head to gouge away gory chunks of flesh. Even as Logan's fists punch through his regrowing viscera, claws pinning him to the bloody concrete floor.

Wade.

Just.

Holds him.

Nuzzling his face against the side of Wolvie's, as Logan bites brutally into his neck. Whispering 'It's okay, Kitty, it's okay. I'm here. I'm here,' as blood gurgles from his lungs. Humming one of those shitty country songs Logan likes to put on the radio. Stroking Logan's spiky, greasy hair with shaky fingers until Logan snaps his spinal cord and his arms fall limp. Telling him how much Laura misses him, how Al misses him though she won't admit it, how Wade misses him most of all.

Until the fight bleeds out of Logan, sure as he's bled out Wade. He shakes in Wade's arms, bared teeth scraping against his jugular. But though he bites down, there's a question in it. And Wade swears there are tears dripping off Logan's nose, as well as drops of blood.

"Let it out, Kitty-cat," he encourages, once his throat has regrown (again). "I got you."

Logan's shoulders shake. A soundless sob heaves through him. And - at last! - he curls into Wade, tiny whimpers pushing out between the growls.

One of them even sounds a tiny bit like "Wade - "

"Yeah, yeah." Wade squeezes his hands until the pins and needles dissipate, then goes right back to cuddling Logan, running his fingers lightly up and down his hairy spine. "Daddy's here."

The noise Logan makes at that is slightly more reproachful, possibly even threatening to chew out his windpipe again - but the door bangs open before he gets the chance. In barges the woman who led Wade down here, brandishing what is, if Wade had to make an educated guess, a high-powered tranq rifle.

"Don't you two put on a good show!" she pants, flipping straight blonde hair out of her eyes. "If I get you in front of a crowd, it'll be our highest grossing match yet - "

Wade doesn't bother with a witty rejoinder. He just pulls out a pistol and nails her, bang, right between the eyes.

"Pass," he says, shoving the gun back into its holster on his thigh as the woman crumples to the floor. "Me and pookums here have a nice long date with a bubble bath, I think. Then snuggles in bed in front of a Bea Arthur marathon. Sound good, Loag?"

Logan tensed at the gunshot, eyes going all shell-shocked. But before he can reignite their fun little murder-fest, Wade strokes his back again. And Logan, grudgingly - untrustingly - hunkers down on top of him. Still tense. Still uncertain. Still keeping one wary eye on Wade. But letting himself be loved.

Wade sends his other hand on a gross exploratory mission through the contents of his guts, until he brushes the familiar edge of a temppad.

"C'mon, big guy," he says to Wolvie, keeping that gentle, grounding pressure between his shoulder blades. "Let's get you home."

we had Wade Whump Wednesday (Wunday)

now I am rotating

Logan L(wh)ump L(M)onday

TO BE DISCUSSED FURTHER ONCE I AM ACTUALLY AWAKE BECAUSE. HOO BOY I GOT IDEAS >:3c

#poolverine #TORTURING MY FAVES FOR FUN AND PROFIT #deadclaws #peanutbub #they make me so crazyyy #logan whump monday (I can't make this alliterate alas)#my fic #my art #bbb creates

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strangunddurm · 3 years ago

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The Cabin

Masterlist

Pairing: Clyde Logan x fem!reader

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: PinV sex, unprotected sex, self pleasure, fingering, masturbation, alcohol consumption.

Please accept my offering of my vision of mountain man Clyde.

A hike in the woods was meant to calm your mind and let you focus on yourself for a while; a sort of cheap alternative to going to a spa. However, you were anything but relaxed, and focused on everything except just yourself.

You were lost. Despite spending hours on YouTube trying to learn how to navigate, you had still taken the wrong turn and didn’t notice until it was too late. Thankfully it was the beginning of autumn, so it was still warm outside, and you didn’t need to start worrying about getting cold just yet, despite the sun slowly descending across the horizon.

The crappy phone which you had insisted didn’t need replacing had died long before you realized just how lost you were. You had a particularly bad habit of never charging your phone and it was coming back to bite you in the ass.

You had taken a, supposedly, easy trail. ‘Beginner friendly’ was the description your friend had given you when you asked for tips. You were cursing them mentally in your mind now, their definition of ‘beginner friendly’ was obviously vastly different from yours.

It had been hours, or at least it felt like it. You were steadily making your way through the granola bars you had packed. Your version of survivor mode consisted of trying to eat everything you could see due to anxiety, instead of saving it in case you’d be out here for hours.

It was the same rock you had passed a while back, you were sure of it, convinced that you were officially just walking in one big circle.

You hadn’t seen anyone else out on the trails which were surprising.; you figured trails were usually always packed with curious adventurers.

The snap of a branch pulled you out of your inner monologue, causing you to freeze and your heart to painfully contract in fear. You were sure that this was the moment you would die; a rabid coyote was surely bound to attack you at any moment. Were there even coyotes in West Virginia? You didn’t want to find out.

Turning around to see what it was that had made the sound wasn’t an option in your mind, it really wasn’t. Turning around would, in your mind, mean that you were accepting being mauled to death and despite your sometimes negative output you wanted to live for a while longer.

“Please, please, please don’t be a coyote… pleas-“ You let out a loud scream as a hand grabbed onto your shoulder, instinctively jabbing your elbow back to connect with the somewhat soft stomach of someone who was very much not a wild and crazed animal.

Whoever was behind you let out a low ‘ouff’ sound from your attack but did not seem overly affected otherwise.

“Sorry!” It was a man’s voice, judging from the deep tone of it. You whirled around whilst simultaneously attempting to take a step backwards, resulting in you falling to the ground ungracefully. There was definitely no chance you could run away from him now if he turned out to be less than friendly.

“Who are you?” You shuffled back against the ground, trying to put some distance between the two of you in naïve hope. The stranger, noticing your distress, put his hands out in front of him whilst taking a few steps back, increasing the distance between the two of you.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare ye.” You surveyed him sceptically as he apologized. He looked like he was a nice person, but that only went so far, anyone had the ability to look nice. He blended into your surroundings, lacking the bright colours you were wearing; it was obvious that he did not share in your desire to want to be seen. He also looked like he was much more used to the woods than you were (not that it was hard).

“Are ye okay?” His question made you realize that you hadn’t replied, and you were still lying there like a seal on the ground. You stumbled up onto your feet with a huff, grabbing a stick that was laying by your hand just as you thrust yourself up.

It was a small stick, definitely incapable of causing serious bodily harm but you hoped that if you were desperate enough, it could poke out an eye. Or at least scratch it.

You held it out in front of you, wielding it like a sword. It was hard not to miss the smile that flew across the stranger’s face. You were most likely a funny sight, a flustered and oblivious city girl waving a twig. But you felt like King Arthur waving Excalibur and that was all that mattered. One lonely girl pumped full of adrenaline could do a lot of damage with a twig and a mean right hook.

“What do you want?” You spat. A tiny voice inside of you told you that you were being ridiculous. Here he was, a nice man probably just concerned over seeing you wander through the woods, obviously lost, so close to nightfall. But the devil on your other shoulder told you to trust no man, to kick him where the sun doesn’t shine and take off like a bat out of hell.

“I just wanted to see if ye were okay; it gets cold out here at night.” He still had his hands up like he was getting arrested. You considered his words carefully. You weren’t okay, you hadn’t planned on staying out until nightfall. All you were going to do was hike to the top of the mountain and go back down, but apparently, you were too incompetent to even perform that simple task.

“I called out a couple of times, but ye didn’t seem to hear me.”

“Oh,” You dropped the twig at the revelation. It explained a lot; you were after all notorious for getting lost in your thoughts and turning deaf.

“Sorry.” You said sheepishly as you lowered the stick to your side but still grasped it tightly (just in case). You sent him a small apologetic smile even though you didn’t owe him one.

“So, do ye need help?”

“Hmm…” Did you need help? You glanced around you, surveying your surroundings again. It was a lot closer to dark than you were comfortable with. The granola bars were all gone, you didn’t have anything warmer on than the fleece jacket you had dug out from the back of your closet. You had no way of contacting anyone and you were not competent enough to build anything close to a working shelter for the night.

You eyed him again as you thought over your answer. He seemed nice enough, he reminded you slightly of a big, burly bear. He was a behemoth of a man, standing tall and wide with dark hair and eyes, but there was some kindness there that made you feel as if you could trust him.

The thing that eventually won you over was his hand, it was obviously a prosthetic now that you were focusing on him. You hoped that a prosthetic hand meant that it was much less likely that he could grab a firm hold on you.

Clyde Logan wasn’t a very talkative man. If you were to google ‘mountain man’ he would pop up as one of the image results. The modern version of course, accompanied by the usual camo gear. You had always had a weakness for the lumberjack flannels and the thick moustache that tickled his lips had you wondering what it would look like drenched in your juices.

But it would be stupid attempting to seduce the grumpy man that had saved you from certain death, right?

He knew so much about the woods and the dangers that were surrounding you, making you realize just how stupid you were to be out there alone. But of course, he didn’t offer you all of this information on his own. No, you had to practically force the words out of his mouth, but thankfully you were the Master of Babble, and he was eventually forced to answer if he ever wanted you to shut up.

You were making your way to his cabin that was apparently just over a mile away. Clyde was leading the way with you practically walking on his heels trying to keep up with his long strides and sneaking looks over your shoulder in paranoia to see if anyone was following the two of you.

Clyde had said that it was too late to return to your car seeing how late it was. Apparently, you had walked in the completely wrong direction from the start and were now a couple of miles away from civilization. He had graciously offered you a sleeping spot in his cabin over the night with a promise to help you back first thing in the morning.

It was picturesque, Clyde’s cabin. Nothing less than what you expected of the man, and surprisingly a lot cleaner than what you had assumed from stereotyping.

“This is so cute!” You admired, sending a small smile up to Clyde with a tilt of your head. He almost looked embarrassed over your praise, only responding with a small huff as he took his shoes off and walking toward the kitchen area.

It was a studio type of situation. Everything was in one room: the small kitchenette, tv-area, and makeshift bedroom. Clyde had flipped a switch which turned on a light that illuminated the entire cabin in a soft glow.

“There’s a bathroom over there.” Clyde gestured to a door on the left, and you couldn’t help peaking in. You hadn’t expected a fully functional bathroom at all, seeing how you were in the middle of nowhere but here it was. And you were so grateful. Going potty in the woods was not on your bucket list.

“Are ye hungry? It’s nothin’ much but I have some sandwiches that we can eat.” Clyde ran his fingers through his hair as he asked the question nervously when you came over after your brief tour of the cabin.

“A sandwich would be great, thank you!” You took it gratefully from his hand as he offered it to you before plopping down on the couch.

You were a lot hungrier than you had though. Your stomach rumbled loudly as you unwrapped the sandwich and taking a bite.

“Have you had this for long?” You said after you had finished chewing your first bite, gesturing with your hand wildly to the cabin.

“Couple of years.” Clyde didn’t look at you as he responded, focused intently on his own sandwich.

He left it at that, not elaborating any further and you didn’t want to cross the obvious boundary he had drawn, so you stayed quiet.

You were never good with silence and awkward situations. When others were perfectly comfortable with silence you just had to talk. Googled had diagnosed it as a symptom of anxiety but you had never actually built enough courage up to actually have a evaluation.

“Do you like to read?” You had taken notice of the overflowing bookcase he had. It was hard not to, it was perhaps the biggest piece of furniture he had, spanning the length of an entire wall.

“Mhmm” Honestly, the hums he would do to answer your questions made you soaked.

“What’s your favourite?” He looked as if he was considering your question, leaning back into his seat and looking up at the ceiling for a moment.

“It would have to be In Search for Lost Time by Marcel Proust.”

“I love that book.”

“Is that so?” You nodded your head with wide eyes, happy to have found a subject to talk about. You loved books, yes, but to be honest you had never read that book. But you were hoping you could wing it enough so that Clyde wouldn’t notice.

“What’s your favourite part?” Okay, so maybe you hadn’t thought it through. You couldn’t hide the small wince you did at his question.

It would’ve been better to have said nothing at all, you just really wanted Clyde to like you. You didn’t know why; it wasn’t like you were ever going to see him again. It was just that there was something about him that made you want to kneel and say, ‘please daddy’ and you didn’t know how to get there with someone so reluctant to talk.

“Ye tryin’ to impress me?” He must be a mind reader.

“Oh, no I just-“ You trailed off, unsure over what to say that would not make you seem as desperate.

He stood up, watching you as he made his way around the room, but he wasn’t moving toward you; instead, he disappeared through the front door without a word.

You deflated like a balloon as the door shut behind him, sinking into the cushions and cursing yourself. Why were you so desperate to impress people? The answer was simple because you were you and you had an irrational need for people having to like you.

Clyde wasn’t gone for long. He had simply gone out to fill up on the firewood for the fireplace that you had neglected to notice before.

“It’s supposed to get below 30 here tonight.” Was it rude to say that you were impressed with how easily he did things despite only having one hand? It wasn’t that you expected him to not be able to function at all, it’s just that you were barely functioning yourself with two hands.

It had already started getting just a tiny bit colder, enough for you to have curled your legs onto the couch, leaning on the armrest with a blanket thrown over you. The cold was a fiend that you would never get along with.

“I’m sorry.”

“What are ye sorry for?” He looked truly bewildered over your words, stopping what he was doing and looking up at you from his crouched position.

“I shouldn’t have lied.”

“’S okay.” He continued with starting a fire. “We’ve all told a white lie.”

“That’s true, but I’m usually better at playing it off.” You joked and he shared a chuckle with you.

It was cozy once Clyde got the fire started. He turned off the lamp in the ceiling, muttering something about preserving a battery, opting to turn on another by the bed and then settled back down. He was sitting next to you this time, not across from you in the chair as previously. You could practically feel the heat radiating from his skin, he was so close. The couch was small, only a two-seater, but you suppose that he didn’t need much more seeing how he was only one person.

Clyde crowded your personal space. It felt like he was everywhere around you, suffocating you (but in the best way). He slung his arm over the back of the couch, just barely grazing your back. You were surprised with how forward he was being but decided not to question it too much, figuring he might take it wrong and shy away.

“Yer not from ‘round here are ye?”

“Is it so obvious?” Of course, it was obvious. You told him where you lived and there seemed to be a small glint of recognition in his eyes.

“Ye should get a guide next time, one of the rangers will take ye for free.” It was surprising how caring he seemed to be.

“One of the rangers?” You didn’t want a ranger to show you around the next time.

“Mhmm”

“Can’t you take me?” You diverted your eyes from his face as you asked the question, feigning being shy. You let them trace down his sculptured-by-God body, double-checking for a ring on one of his fingers. There was none, or well you assumed that it wasn't a wedding ring. It didn't look like one, it had more of a class ring vibe to it.

Clyde didn’t respond immediately. He was studying you, analyzing every crevice of your face it seemed like.

It was impossible not to get lost in his eyes. You tried really hard not to at first but gave up way too quickly. You wondered if he knew just how attractive he was. He had to have several ladies running after him, desperate for a getaway in his cabin in the woods.

“Do ye want me to?” He finally asked. It was obvious that he had tensed up at your question. His back was rigid, he was sitting as straight as you had ever seen a person sit.

“Maybe…” You were subconsciously leaning closer toward him, inhaling as much of his sent as you could discreetly. It was very vampire-like of you.

He smelled just as you thought he would. Like pine trees. There was just the smallest undertone of sweat and it drove you wild. It wasn’t usually your scent of choice for obvious reasons but on Clyde… On Clyde it was as if he had been doused in some kind of pheromones that made you completely drenched and mad with want.

You thankfully stopped yourself before you could release the moan that was bubbling in your throat. Who in their right mind moaned to a stranger that they hadn’t even touched over the way they smelled? (Only counting people that weren’t high or drunk, of course).

It was a battle getting you to lean away from Clyde again, but the rational part of your brain thankfully won. You had to dig your nails into your thighs, trying to pinch yourself through the fabric of your pants to bring you back to reality and gain some self-control.

“I’ll take you.” He promised with a nod, looking as serious as always. You wondered if he always wore that expression with everyone. You hadn’t been able to coax a lot of smiles out of him, despite categorizing yourself as a fairly hilarious person and having cracked some jokes on the walk to the cabin.

You sent him a small smile in response, feeling relieved not to have been rejected. That would’ve been embarrassing.

He surveyed you for a while more before finally asking if you wanted a drink.

The makeshift bar cabinet that he had was surprisingly well-stocked. Too well-stocked for him to be a raging alcoholic. You questioned him curiously about it. Finding out that he was a bartender was a welcomed surprise. You challenged him to make a drink you had never heard of, and he was quick to deliver.

It was delicious, making it easy to pay him compliments over his talent.

“I own a bar, ‘s called Duck Tape.” It was clear that he was proud over his business, with the way his chest seemed to almost swell with his words.

You told him about your own job, not exactly sharing the same enthusiasm seeing how your job was one of the main reasons for why you needed a stress-relieving hike in the first place.

You’d always been a lightweight. It was no secret; you had an uncanny ability to be able to get hammered on one glass of alcohol. Google told you that it could have something to do with your liver, but you did not want to go to the hospital to find out.

You neglected to think about this small fact when you asked Clyde to make you a drink and you were now suffering the consequences. You were drunk, or at least somewhere over the border of tipsy.

Clyde seemed to have relaxed from the alcohol as well. He was much freer in letting a laugh leave his body which had caused you to jump at first in surprise at the boisterous sound.

He had shuffled closer to you, or was it you that had shuffled closer to him? It had happened without either of the two of you noticing but you didn’t try to move away once you did.

You didn’t speak about anything of significance, not really. It was all nonsense, but you never wanted it to stop. Eventually, you mutually decided that sleep was a necessity if you were going to have the energy to get back to your car in the morning.

“Ye can take the bed if ye want.” Clyde motioned over the back of the couch toward the bed in the corner of the room. You glanced over at it, gnawing at your lip as you considered his proposal. Would it be inappropriate to say that you wanted him to share the bed with you?

The bed was too small for it to be shared in any way that wasn’t intimate which was exactly what you wanted.

You assumed that Clyde was as interested in you as you were of him. His hand was dangerously close to your knee as it sat on the seat of the sofa; if he moved his finger less than an inch it would graze your skin.

“Where would you sleep?” You feigned innocent.

“I’ll take the couch.” He knew what you were doing; you could see it in his eyes. They had grown even darker than before and were hooded as they watched you. It was easy to get lost in them, they were the most expressive eyes you had ever seen.

Both of you knew that neither of you would sleep on the couch that night.

There was a flurry of hands and all of a sudden you were in his lap, grinding down, lips connected to one another.

Clyde was a great kisser. Scratch that. He was amazing. He knew exactly how to make you completely drenched from just a few nibbles and strokes of his tongue against your own. He was a natural (Or a player, but you somehow got the impression that he didn’t lure innocent people to his cabin on the regular for a quick lay).

You could feel how hard he was despite the layers separating his bulge from your core. Hard and large and it made you dizzy to think about.

Clyde was taking his time running his hands up and down your waist, his right hand grabbing here and there, never moving under your shirt despite your obvious eagerness. A roll of his hips elicited a moan from you.

Your own hands weren’t shy in their movements; they were grasping onto his broad shoulders, holding on to the fabric as you tried to pull him closer to you.

He separated his lips from yours with a chuckle.

“Eager, are we?” His crooked grin was panty-dropping worthy.

He trailed his lips down your neck before you could reply, suckling gently over your pulse point.

The moan he pulled from you echoed around the room as you tilted your head to the side, allowing him more room to roam.

Your hands tighten their hold on his shoulders. You had always been extra sensitive around the neck and the combination of his lips and the tickle from his moustache was enough to send you into overdrive.

“Clyde…” You breathed out his name shakily, feeling tingles start to travel from your hands and up your arms from the excitement.

He hoisted you up surprisingly quickly from the sofa, causing you to let out a shriek in surprise.

He was strong. Of course, he was strong, you shouldn’t have expected anything else but still…

He carried you toward the bed, setting you down unceremoniously on the edge. You had to grab a hold of the sheet so as not to fall over.

“I want you to strip.” There was no room for arguing in his voice, and it was exactly what you needed. You didn’t want to have to think about your actions.

He was watching you intently, waiting for you to do as you were told, causing you to frantically reach for the zip of your fleece, pulling it down your arms and then throwing it mindlessly away from you.

Your shirt was the next thing that came off. Clyde’s gaze followed as your shirt revealed more and more skin. You didn’t miss the way he bit his lip hungrily.

Your bra wasn’t perhaps the sexiest thing you owned but you weren’t exactly expecting to be in the situation you were when you headed out that morning.

The bra joined the other items a bit slower. You wanted to drag it out; was it mean that you wanted him to have to suffer just a tiny bit?

You were basking in his obvious admiration of your body as you slowly slid the pants down and stepped out of them, leaving you in just your socks and underwear.

Perhaps it wasn’t the sexiest you had ever looked, but it was the sexiest you had ever felt, and that was the important part.

“Panties too.” He had started palming himself through his pants, huffing out small groans of satisfaction here and there. It had made you drenched and you did not doubt that it was obvious to him just how aroused you were.

You were finally standing there in front of him, completely bare, socks and panties having been removed. His eyes ran over every inch and crevice of you that was visible in the low light.

He was still fully dressed, having just unbuttoned his pants so that he could force his hand down to tug at himself.

“I want you to lay down and touch yourself.” Touch yourself? Couldn’t he do it? You opened your mouth to argue but one look from Clyde made you snap your mouth shut again.

The comforter was soft against your skin as you laid down on your back. You were shy as you separated your legs just enough so that you could slip your hand in between your legs.

The first touch was electric. You had never felt such a reaction from simply touching yourself. Sure, you were an expert in getting yourself off, but it never felt quite like this, not this good from so little.

You circled your bud, applying just the right pleasure that caused you to moan. Your eyes fluttered shut involuntarily, getting lost in the feeling building in your belly.

“Open yer eyes.” He had moved closer, a lot closer, with surprising stealth as you hadn’t heard even a low scuffle of feet. His eyes were commanding the attention of your own as he scolded you.

You withdrew your hand automatically from yourself, moving it up to rest on your belly, thinking that he must want you to stop. You were wrong, however, for his eyes snapped down to watch it and he scolded you once again.

“I didn’t tell ye to stop.” He only moved away once more when he was satisfied with your continued movements.

He walked over to the single chair by the living room table, dragging it with him back over to the bed, placing it by the end where he would get just the right view of you working yourself.

He pulled his pants down before sitting down with a huff. He had gone commando. You let out a whimper of need at the sight.

Clyde Logan was the owner of the most perfect cock you had ever seen. It was so heavy that it had barely been able to bob against his stomach, despite his sitting position.

You arched your neck, trying to get a closer look. It was swollen and huge and pink at the tip. His thumb was working over the head, smearing the precum that had leaked out.

“Ye stopped.” It was a statement, and he didn’t need to give you further instructions for you to once again start moving your hand between your legs.

You let it travel further down this time, to collect some of your wetness with two fingers before bringing it up to your mouth and tasting yourself. Sweet and tangy.

Clyde didn’t make a single sound to let you know if he was affected by your actions, so all you could do was assume that he was, and that was enough to spur you on.

You brought your hand back down, inserting a finger slowly, testing the waters. You were more than ready, your walls giving way easily to the intrusion.

A second soon joined the first and you set a steady rhythm, pumping them in and out with a squelch as your walls clenched around your digits. Your other palm came up to massage at your breast, twisting the nipple between your fingertips.

Your chest heaved with your moans that were penetrating the air. It was hard keeping your eyes open with the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling but you had to stay focus, you didn’t want to miss a second of seeing Clyde slumped from the pleasure of his touch as he fucked into his hand.

“I want ye to make yerself cum.” You were more than happy to give in to this demand. Your fingers were moving urgently inside of you, and your other hand moved on from your breast, coming down to pinch at your clit and then rub tight small circles over it.

The heat that had been steadily building inside of you, blossoming in your stomach, was slowly taking over your entire body now. Your toes were beginning to curl, and you were fighting your eyes from rolling backwards in your head.

And then, it all became too much for you and you let go and the best part of it all rolled over you like tidal waves, washing through you, soaking you with that post-orgasmic glow.

You let your fingers slowly slip out of you, letting your arms fall to your sides as you watched Clyde get up. You didn’t know if he had come, having been too focused on yourself, but it didn’t matter, he still stood at full attention.

Your mouth practically frothed at the sight of him, you could turn rabid from the need that you had for him. A whine slipped out of your mouth, an arm lifting up to reach out for him, needing to touch him.

He came close enough so that your fingers could just barely brush against the fabric of his pants that he still insisted on having on.

Rage took over your body. It was an irrational rage, why did he still have them on? You wanted them off and you wanted them off now. You had to see him, all of him, before you went insane from the deprivation. Was it even possible? To lose your mind over not getting to see another person naked? You certainly thought so.

You sat up, leaning on one of your shoulders as you looked up at him with a glare on your face.

“Take them off.” He was thoroughly amused by your attempt at a demand. You didn’t achieve quite the same rumble in your tone that he had which left no room for arguing, but still, he conceded and pushed the pants down his legs until they were low enough to be kicked off.

His shirt followed soon after, almost hitting you in the face as he threw it carelessly toward the corner of the bed.

You couldn’t help but admire him. A work of art, good enough to be hung in the Met, that was for sure.

You got on your knees in front of him, the height from the bed aiding you in being just tall enough so that you could place kisses on his chest- You placed the first one in the middle, right over his sternum whilst looking up at him.

Your eyes stayed locked as you planted another kiss over his heart, the next on his right pec, and so forth. They circled around one of his nipples, letting your teeth give it a small nibble before pulling it with you just a bit before releasing it and letting it revert to its original state, hard as a rock.

It was starting to get more and more obvious just how affected Clyde was getting, his arousal much more prominent, if that was even possible. You could feel it against your skin, you didn’t want to touch it just yet, dragging it out for as long as you could.

You enjoyed watching him become more and more flustered by your actions. His chest was heavy with each audible breath, cock tapping against your lower stomach, begging to be touched, but you kept your hands away. They were holding on to his thighs, caressing them in small movements that were making their way toward his cock at snail pace.

“Ye gon’ tease me all night?” You let out a laugh at the ridiculous accusation. If anybody had been the one to tease, it was Clyde.

“Are you going to tease me all night?” You threw the question back at him, biting your lip with an innocent smile.

He growled. He actually growled and you could feel how it caused a trickle to roll down your leg.

“Didn’t yer mammy or daddy ever teach ye not to talk back?”

“They didn’t actually” His eyes had steadily grown darker and darker as the evening progressed and were now on the border of black.

He smashed your lips together, grabbing a hold of your face with his right hand with a bruising grip. He kissed and nipped at your lips before pulling back and pushing you back onto the bed.

He was quick to follow you onto the bed as he guided you to lay on your back, spread eagle, with him kneeling between your legs. His hands were on his hips as he watched you. You squirmed under his gaze, trying to create some type of friction anywhere that would aid in bringing you closer to another release.

His kisses started on your inner knee, building their way up at a torturous pace. He didn’t leave a kiss between your legs; instead, he just hovered there so you could feel his hot breath tickle you before continuing.

You were practically sobbing for more when he finally made it to your lips.

“Please, you have to…”

“I have t’ what?” He looked completely serious as he looked down at you, balanced on one hand. He was expecting an answer from you, and you didn’t know what to say. You obviously wanted him to fuck you but for some reason, you were too shy to say it.

“Mhm… thought so,” He hummed before dropping down to his elbows pressing his entire body onto you.

You could feel all of him. His skin was electric against your own and you could feel his length brushing over your clit. He rolled his hips in a small wave and you arched your back from the moan that escaped you.

It had all built up so much that the smallest touch from him could cause you to completely fall apart, despite the orgasm you had had. It was because it was different when Clyde was the one that touched you; your own touch was nowhere near adequate in comparison.

He rolled his hips again, this time applying just a bit more pressure and you couldn’t help but to widen and draw up your legs slightly, wanting to give him easier access.

“I didn’t tell ye tha’ ye could move.” You were trembling from need at his words. You needed more; couldn’t he understand that?

You were reluctant as you started to bring your legs back down, but he (thankfully) hooked his left arm around your leg, stopping its descent. He hoisted it up to rest by the side of his hip as he simultaneously sat back upon his haunches.

“Do ye need me inside of ye?” Your head had started nodding before he could even finish the sentence, causing a wicked smile to spread across his face.

“I need t’ be inside of ye too.” They were the most glorious words you had ever heard.

His right hand gave a tug at his cock, but it didn’t need any more preparation. It was hard and as ready for you as you were him. He grabbed a hold of base, stabilizing it as he dragged it through your sweet and slickened folds before slowly slipping inside.

Your walls easily gave way for him as he finally pushed in due to your overflowing arousal. He stretched you as wide as you would go with little pain and raw pleasure. You were clenched tightly around him, walls squeezing him in a vice grip, trying to draw him in even deeper.

You could feel yourself grow more and more manic in your need as he sunk deeper and deeper into you. It was as if all other senses had disappeared and all you could focus on was his powerful thrusts that were drilling into you.

He kept your right leg at his hips, whilst his other hand was hoisting your left over his shoulder after just a few deep thrusts.

You choked from the warmth that spread through your body from this position. He was deeper than you even knew you could take him. The head of his cock tapping at your cervix with every drilling thrust but there was no pain, only excruciating pleasure that made tears leak from your eyes from happiness.

The carnal need was as fervent within Clyde as it was you. He couldn’t take it slow; his thrusts were forceful and intent on driving you to your next orgasm as quickly as he could.

“Fuck, ye feel good.” Clyde hissed. “Such a sweet an’ tight little pussy.”

Your eyes could barely focus on him, only catching small glimpses of him with his hair plastered to his forehead from the moisture that was collected there. Your hands were grasping onto the duvet, needing something to hold onto in desperation.

His thrusts were precise and well calculated; he hit that spot inside of you over and over again that made you let out guttural moans.

But he enjoyed torturing you and he suddenly came to a halt, retracting from you completely.

“Move over.” He helped to guide you in your haze. Your own movements were thankfully still quick despite your barely lucid mind as you shuffled to the side, and he laid down on the bed.

Clyde’s hand was supporting his base, helping it stand tall, ready for you to penetrate yourself onto it. You threw your leg over his hips to straddle him. You hovered over his cock, looking down to see how you were dripping on to him.

You didn’t stay there for too long before mounting yourself onto it, dropping down with a pant as you engulfed him within you.

The pace you set was frantic, chasing climax. Your hands came down to rest on his chest to better help you push yourself up and down his cock. The sound of your skin slapping against his echoed around the room, driving your wild.

He was a sight for sore eyes underneath you. Lost in the madness and wild from it all. His desire and pleasure were so clear on his face from the way his mouth was parted and the way his eyes admired you, following your every movement.

He used his right hand to help you ram down onto him again and again.

You got on your feet, gaining better leverage than you had had before on your knees, bouncing up and down. You were so, so close; you could feel your orgasm simmering there underneath the surface, you just needed a small push to get there. And Clyde delivered that small push.

“Yer such a good girl, takin’ me so well. You just love bein’ fucked, don’t ye?”

Your walls clamped down on him, legs shaking as you came to a stop, being unable to continue as you fell forward onto his chest, overwhelmed by the pleasure that filled your body.

He received you in his arms, letting his hand caress over your spine as you continued to slightly convulse from your orgasm.

“Such a good girl” He crooned in your ear with a kiss and tug on your lobe.

Clyde wasn’t as sweet when he pinned both your arms to your sides with one of his, holding you in place as he started slamming his hips up into you, chasing his own pleasure.

The sounds that came out of your as he rammed himself in over and over again were indistinguishable. You were gushing around him, your entire body vibrating from another orgasm, but he still didn’t let up. His hips were starting to stutter, however, thrusts being off-pace as he pounded into you.

And then a sharp thrust was accompanied by a husky cry as he ejected deep inside of you. He managed to pump into you a few more times as your walls milked him, your mixed climaxes collecting at his base.

You were exhausted, unable to move so he stayed there, deep inside of you as he grew flaccid.

You thought it was a fuck for the history books.

#clyde smut #clyde logan fanfiction #clyde logan x you #clyde logan #clyde #clyde x reader #clyde logan smut #clyde logan x reader #adcu fanfic #adcu fic rec #adam driver #adcu community #adcu fanfiction #adam driver character #adcu #oneshot

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scully-loves-ruthie · 3 years ago

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One time he made a bad joke about pms

Hey my dudes (slides back into the fandom like I haven't been MIA for like 2 years, let alone written anything) I've been trying to be more active these days and have even started writing again. I'm answering some very old prompts from my inbox and working on a long bit of something. Anyway, it's good to be back. Hope you like this!

Thump, Thump, Wack! The pounding on the door growing more intense with each hurtle the beast’s body delivers. Mulder's back is pressed firmly against the other side of the door, his dress shoes digging for stability in the burnt orange motel carpet. Scully splayed against him her arms shoving into the door while adding her body weight against his to stop the impending break in. Their foreheads touch as each breath shimmies out of their lips arduous, biting back panic.

“I told you not to go out there Mulder. There’s nothing good waiting for us in the woods at 3am!” She shakes the hair off her brow pressing her body harder against his as the beast on the other side is making haste of the door frame. “Now we’ve got a rabid animal trying to maul us to death all because you had a hunch!”

“I’m pretty sure my hunch was right Scully!” His voice growing panicked and somehow confident at the same time. “I told you there was a werewolf out there, that we just needed to draw him out, and look we did! We just need to hold on a little longer till the sun rises and we’ll be left with the poor son of a bitch who’s cursed with this beastly affliction!”

Crack! The top of the door is splitting.

“Shit.” Scully whispers frantic and strained into the buttons of his dress shirt. “It’s not a werewolf Mulder. It’s some sort of animal, a wolf perhaps, clearly rapid or going through some sort of psychosis, and you went out there and antagonized it!” She pressed harder against his body melding her frame into his just so, the hands of a clock coming together. Sure, this wasn’t the time to be arguing about whether or not it was actually a werewolf, but years of near-death scrapes, and side long glances in the pursuit of greater chaos really afforded them the ability to bicker anywhere.

“You know Scully” He breathes deep pulling loose strands of her hair up from the top of her head with his middle of the night scruff. “I really thought my biggest problem this week was going to be getting ready to watch you surf the crimson wave, but somehow we managed to one up even that great causality.

Snap! The doorframe is almost broken down now. Mulder’s feet scrape and slide beneath him as Scully pushes with everything she’s got to hold the interloper at bay.

“Mulder, I told you I don’t like it when you track my cycle.” Her words spit out through gritted teeth.

Mulder kisses the top of her head as he feels the door shake loose from its hinges. “You and the moon Scully, my two best girls.”

“Don’t call me a girl Muder!” The words fall forward the same time as them, landing unceremoniously on top of the now broken door outside their motel just as the sun begins to streak across the morning sky.

“Sorry, my best lady” He whispers as she lets her body go slack succumbing to the rush of adrenaline from the onslaught and now being full press horizontal on top pf Mulder as they both pant from exhaustion. “My woman.” He laments as he drags his nose across her cheek and rises to his feet. He pulls her up, the two surveying their surroundings for their attacker. Instead, there is no one to be found just the faint sound of howling and crazed laughter on the horizon.

#xfiles fanfic #my fic #look I finally wrote something again #i've missed you guys

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queen--kenobi · 4 years ago

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Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. 🥺🥺🥺😭😭 Fives absolutely has my whole heart and thinking about a Modern!AU just gives me all the feels. If you EVER decided to write that or even just expand with some HCs I would read it a million times and it would kill me every single time. I'm in awe of how frequently you come up with these, frankly stellar, ideas. Hope the new job treats you well! ❤❤

!!!!! Thank you! I've actually been fucking around with the idea of doing a modern/college AU for some of the clones! I have so many ideas, like:

Fives and Echo are obviously roommates. Neither of them realizes they have the same dad and the same birthday for the longest time despite the fact they look scarily alike and have the exact same zodiac signs

The companies are now SLG, or selective living groups. Idk if other schools do them, but Duke does (yes I am biased bc I was in one there). They're alternatives to Greek life. You get the community without the Greek life baggage

Anyway Torrent is a SLG that a lot of people want to be in. They're very small, though

Rex is the President for Torrent. Anakin is an RA, but Ashoka is another RA that fills in for him a lot

This is because Anakin is way more interested in boning his hot girlfriend. Who's a young, maybe the youngest in the school's history, Public Policy teacher. A lot of guys take her class sheerly bc of that

She's a hard grader, though

Obi-wan is a law student and the RC of the dorm

No one can tell if Maul is his rival or his ex

Obi-wan loves to annoy one of the tenured professors, Dr. Griveous. It's because Dr. Griveous gave him a C when he was an undergad. He would have had a 4.0 if it weren't for that C

Fives is a rabid sports fan. He and Hardcase go to every game they can. If there's any rituals surrounding sports, they're in on it

The rest of these are generic, but. I have to say this. Fives would be a Cameron Crazy if he went to Duke I just know it in my heart

Tbh I think Hardcase drags Fives to football games so Fives drags him to basketball games

Rex and Cody were roommates their freshmen year and regularly hang out with one another. Fives was CONVINCED they were boning each other, but no. They're just super close with each other

Cody has an athletic scholarship and is one of the star athletes on the rugby team

Dogma isn't allowed to smoke weed at Torrent parties because it makes him hella fucking paranoid

He and Tup are roommates, and they're right across the hall from Fives and Echo

Fives isn't a theater major, but he's been in a lot of the mainstage plays

He drags Echo into being a tech for all the plays

Honestly. Fives is a philosophy major. As a philosophy minor, I know this in my heart that Fives would be right at home

Listen. You can't tell me that Fives wouldn't be at home in a major that challenges you and lets you argue with people

Rex is probably either engineering, pre-med, or econ. He hates his major but feels like he's got to be one of those

Fives is trying to help Echo get an emotional support animal!

Waxer and Boil take care of the campus cats. They've started an FB page for people who want to help as well

Wrecker has an ESA cat, and he walks the cat around campus

Wrecker was an up and coming football star, but he got really badly injured during a game so he can't play anymore

The Bad Batch got their name bc most of them are athletes who were hurt or lost their scholarship

No one knows how Crosshair hasn't lost his scholarship because he's a SORE LOSER. They think it's because he put the school on the map for NCAA rifle shooting

I'm sure there's more I can think of

#persephone speaks

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wanderingaroundwithmysoul · 7 months ago

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Improve. Rain scoffed. "I'd hardly call it an improvement. Even if you are a skittish lil' bastard half the time, I'll take you over any of those manufactured hardasses anytime. People like that piss me off. There's a huge difference between compartmentalizin' to keep your cool in combat and bein' a straight-up heartless douchebag. I swear, half the reason those clone soldiers are so easy to take out is that they don't give a damn about one another."

Losing one's entire sense of self and turning into a mindless husk was certainly terrifying. It also easily found its place near the top of the short list of things that scared Rain, dethroned only by the thought of still having a sense of awareness but no control over one's body. She often had nightmares where she fully turned during that final train ride, but nobody would kill her so she'd have to watch herself maul all of them like a rabid animal. Matt's final hours must have been some serious hell.

To her recollection, she had never seen a person sporting the glowing, metal... bug-thing Kaplan was describing. It was good to know she had never shot somebody she thought was a clone, but was actually the real deal. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind." She hoped nobody ever tried to put one of those things on her. Jesus.

Rain was certain that if Kaplan had run into Matt before it was too late, he would've been able to disable whatever they forcefully implanted in that poor dude. She hadn't even gotten to know Matt for an entire night, but she knew she was never gonna forget him. Or what Umbrella had turned him into. She let out a quiet sigh. "What were you doin' when they closed off RC, anyway? How did you get out before they dropped that TNW on it?"

With everything made fuzzy both by the quality of the cameras and the darkness of the night, she struggled to make out the details of what was happening outside. However, when Kaplan's flashlight illuminated the figure's face and the unsightly second mouth sprouted forth, it became clear he wasn't dealing with anybody that needed help. "Ugh," Rain muttered under her breath.

When Kaplan returned to the vehicle, she lounged back against her bag again. "Nasty, aren't they?" She scratched idly at the bite scar on her neck as he continued to talk. "You know how those things are. There's hardly ever just one around. It's usually two or more."

Even though she was looking at the roof above her and not at him, Rain could tell he was already getting worried. She wasn't. She was confident in her ability to handle anything else that could potentially show up, and she knew he did have it in him to do the same. "I think you shouldn't waste your gas. We're fine. The two of us can fend off a pack of those things. Easy. But if you wanna save your stockpile... or seriously think some huge, messed up creature we haven't seen before is gonna pop outta nowhere, then we can move, man. I doubt it, though."

"The hell is your problem, dude? Did you seriously forget about me? Or what, you think I'm a clone? Be for real."

It was getting dark, so Chad pulled his armored vehicle over to the side of the road and set about preparing to settling in for the night. Over the years, he'd accumulated a lot of tech to help him survive, from computers and GPS, to motion sensors, timers, and alarms. Generators and power storage units were essential, as were solar panels and other methods of harnessing power as electrical grids began to fail seemingly everywhere.

Some of the tech he built himself, having raided hardware stores for parts, and others he'd acquired from abandoned police stations and homes. It passed the time, to sit and occupy himself with building computers, or to set up surveillance systems, or to create spreadsheets to catalogue all of his supplies, and he liked to keep his skills sharp. Why? He didn't really know anymore. Maybe it just kept him sane. He had about a million flashlights, flares, weapons, and a multitude of ammunition types, complete with all the batteries, solar chargers, hardware enhancements, additional parts, and optional adjustments he could store.

Metal boxes, backpacks, and duffel bags were stacked in an almost hedge-maze-like fashion inside the armored vehicle he'd taken over after it had been abandoned by the military. His bed was little more than a shelf nestled into all this organized chaos, but he found it strangely comforting to be boxed in while he slept... especially since he was alone most of the time.

Occasionally he joined up with some survivors, but he found it difficult to remain with them. Their goals were vastly different, with civilians wanting to find somewhere safe to hunker down and barricade, and Chad wanting to keep on the move to see what he could do to screw Umbrella over or help other people.

He'd gotten his motion sensor perimeter up around his mobile home, as it were, and had just taken his nightly dose of painkillers so he'd have half a chance of sleeping. The deep scars from where the licker had grabbed him as well as the pain of a few broken bones that hadn't quite healed properly from being thrown off the train on the way out of the Hive had him pretty much in near-constant pain. He'd learned to live with it, and as long as he was busy and moving, he could ignore it. At night, though, he needed some extra help from good ol' pharmaceuticals. Just over-the-counter, though, nothing too heavy. He couldn't risk not being able to wake up if something significant went down. And absolutely nothing with an Umbrella logo on the bottle.

That was when one of his alarms went off, indicating that something was moving in the near vicinity of the vehicle. "Really?" he groaned, his head falling to the right as he lay in his bed to look at the screen across the way. Sure enough, it was blinking. Sighing, he sat up and typed away, looking at the camera feed indicating movement. To his severe disappointment, it wasn't one of the undead. It looked like a soldier of some kind. "Just perfect," he said cynically. Grabbing a couple guns, he went out to investigate. What he found was... startling, to say the least.

It... it was Rain. His heart began to pound. No, Rain's dead. Don't get fooled again by those stupid clones. Man, they were creepy... Clones of his now-deceased friends and comrades that often times acted nothing like the originals. The Rain ones... were always particularly nasty. He lifted his rifle, leveling it at her. "That's far enough," he said coldly, assuming this was a clone. How can it not be?

But then she spoke, and almost simultaneously he began to notice that she looked a bit older. The clones always looked young, pristine. Swallowing hard, Chad found it difficult to breathe with how vigorously his heart was now pounding, rattling his ribcage. Faltering a little in his resolve, the tip of his rifle slowly dipped a bit and he stared incredulously at her.

"N-no, I-... Of course I didn't forget about you, but..." But you're dead. You've gotta be. Forgetting Rain - or anyone else he'd lost in the Hive due to his incompetence, poor planning, and cracking under the pressure - was never an option. He saw their faces almost nightly in the twisted horrors of his guilt-fueled nightmares.

Chad blinked, not knowing what to do. The rifle lowered just a bit more at the mention of clones. "Yeah, actually, that's exactly what I'm thinking. Wait, you're-... Are you telling me you're not a clone?" Oh, how he wanted to believe that, but he'd been fooled before, almost fatally. "Come on, don't fuck with me..." he said, more with a crestfallen type of exhaustion than with any sort of real intimidation attempt. "If you're not a clone... then prove it."

If this really was Rain, the real Rain, then he was about to feel like a huge jerk momentarily. But if it wasn't... he couldn't afford to let his guard down...

#muse: rain melendez ocampo #checkxmaster #character: chad kaplan #verse: wandering

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dakotafoster · 4 years ago

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Werewolf Bakugou x reader!! I’d like it if there was a lot of his wolf form!! Maybe the reader is a mage as well!! Perhaps there’s a war happening and they got separated in the midst of battle and one gets slightly injured. I know you said no gore. Sorry this is so all over the place!!

Thank you for requesting! This is my first request on this blog and I tried my best with this one-shot to meet it to your expectations so I hope you like it ♡ I went for a sort of forbidden fantasy love narrative if that’s alright.

ᴍᴏᴏɴ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʀᴇɴ

ραιяιиg : werewolf! katsuki bakugou x fem! mage! reader

ɢɛռʀɛ : fluff, a tiny bit of angst

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs : none

աօʀɖ ƈօʊռȶ : 4.2k

𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪 : Amidst a raging war between your fellow sorcerers and the Werewolves, you find yourself unexpectedly in love with their Alpha.

╔═══°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°═══╗

It was an absolute nightmare. It was not how you wanted to use the gifts you had been given, you didn’t want this. Your refused to use your grandmothers teaching of spells and magic for carnage and murder, you wanted to help and save, to nurture those who could not help themselves. You had been sent to fight a pointless war, driven by null excuses. Dragged and thrown into confrontation by your father and mother, who seemed to care little or not at all about your say in the matter. Everyone in your village, every sorcerer and mage believed that such beasts shouldn’t exist, that lycanthropy was nothing more than a demon’s stunt to lure you to Hell, going so far as to say their leader or Alpha was their term, was the embodiment of Lucifer himself.

You on the other hand, you thought that they were a misunderstood species. You wished to simply understand them, to perceive their culture and recognize them for who they truly are. Not based on some silly rumor to terrify children into being proper. You abandoned your family and left to start a life of your own, where you had the privilege to make your own choices. Though, nothing went according to plan. Third night of being in complete solitude, with nothing but the faint pale light of a full moon to keep you company, you had found yourself surrounded by beasts of the night. Ghouls and vampires alike, all frothing at the mouth like rabid animals.

You were sure you had met your maker, when out of the same obscurity appeared a small pack of wolves. Leaping from the wilderness both beautiful and utterly massive. Your saviors had either chased or mauled your captors, only when they turned to you snarling and barking you began to realize your relief was short-lived. At the head of the band, an enormous golden wolf with pearly grand canines and vibrant scarlet eyes. You couldn’t help but stare in awe at how bulky he was compared to the other wolves surrounding him, and how gorgeous he looked under the silver moon. His frame hunched as he gradually made his way toward you, lips pulled back with a thunderous snarl.

“W-Wait! Please!”

Your voice was hoarse with dehydration, your body shivered from the bitting cold and eyes swollen with how many tears you had shed throughout the whole night. You didn’t want to die like this, you refused to give up, even if you were far to frail to fight back. Your prayers must’ve been answered because before the blonde creature could pounce, a second voice boomed from afar.

“Bakugou wait.”

A crimson brute stepped around the blonde and stood in front of your trembling form. His audits pulled back in a pleading manner. Bakugou—was his name— was far from pleased.

“Move aside now Kirishima. Do not make me ask again. She’s a fucking wizard, she has to die.”

“Bakugou look at her, she’s dying. There’s no way she could cast a simple spell without killing herself. Spare her and let us help her.”

Bakugou sneered at his right hand man. Deep down he knew he had a valid reason, and when he peeked around his friends shoulder. You looked horrible, your clothes barely clinging to your rather boney frame, and you appeared to be severely malnourished. He couldn’t help but feel small pang of remorse just with a short glance.

“Please Bakugou, She needs help. Don’t be the monster they say you are. Prove them wrong.”

His scowl worsened, enraged by the Beta’s comment and his pack mates hostile and dissatisfied with the cardinal male. He jumped the at the male, puffing out his chest in a dominating manner and gave him a throaty growl. “You think I give a shit? Let them think what they want of me. Merciful or not, I’m doing it to protect you and the damn pack. My answer is final. No.” With a final snap of his jaws at Kirishima he turned his back on him, a deafening bark commanding the additional wolves to follow.

“No! I beg of you don’t leave! P-please..!”

The Alpha froze. Audits no longer dragged behind him in irritation but now rather set vertically upon his heavy cranium, clearly interested at the sound of your abused voice.

“I-I’ll help your pack. I can use my magic for harvest, livestock. I-I can heal your comrades! I’ll do anything! Just please... Don’t l-leave me to rot away here...” The other wolves became suddenly interested at your proposal, giving each other quick glimpses in question to whether or not you were trust worthy. Even so it was eerily silent with nothing but the weak chirps of crickets filling the void. For a moment everything seemed to freeze before Bakugou promptly padded toward your paltry physique, large paws mere centimeters from you when you felt his hot exhale on your cheeks. You gazed up at him locking into those bloody visionaries, pupils nothing but thin slits.

“Mark my words sorcerer. Attempt anything to harm me or my pack, and I’ll leave you to vampires to properly feast on. Do I make myself clear?” The emphasis he used on each word sent chills down your arms leaving you covered in goosebumps. You hastily nodded, receiving nothing but a firm grunt. Bakugou swiveled around once more and turned his attention to Kirishima, getting uncomfortably adjacent with his companion and repeating the same actions he had done with you.

“And you will be held accountable.”

Without so much as a second glance he sauntered away, his intimidating aura and the other wolves following along behind him. Kirishima assisted you as you climbed onto his woolly back and silently rested while you both made your way to what seemed to be a lions den. The clan was hostile and cruel towards you, you were certain that Bakugou would throw you to them like a damn bone once he was through with you.

You would have laughed if fate told you he would mark you as his mate and lover just weeks later.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“Bakugou!”

You and Katsuki both bolted from slumber at the frantic yelp coming from outside the cozy teepee, small flickers of the flame lanterns shone through. You looked over at Bakugou who was adorned with nothing but coal cotton trousers, and you in a simple nightgown. He caught your gaze with tired yet alarmed optics, molding his large calloused palm into your slim silky hand tenderly. Giving your fingers a gentle squeeze he swiftly removed the fur blankets from his body and made his way to the the broad curtain and heaved it open. Revealing a bruised and evidently exhausted Kirishima, you and Katsuki gazed wide eyed at the male. It only took you a second to quickly scamper to your lovers side. Katsuki grabbed a hold of the red-head’s arm, who you now had the privilege to call a dear friend. “Kirishima? What the hell happened to you?”

“Bakugou... It’s the sorcerer’s village. They’ve come. Oh god Bakugou... They have killed so many of our own.”Kirishima wailed, heaving feeling as though his lungs would collapse any second. Your heart seemed to be running a marathon in your chest, terrified for what was to come between your former folk, your former family. Katsuki growled lowly, pivoting on his heel aggressively and stomping his way to seize his fiery red cloak. You sweat dropped with every action he took, you felt like bauling your eyes out when you came to the awareness of what Katsuki was going to do. He was making his past you before you roughly grasping his wrist.

“What are you doing?”

What a stupid question. You knew better than to be so simpleminded. You knew exactly what he was planning, but you wouldn’t let yourself believe it for even a second. The look he gave you said it all, it let you know that you were at the point where you could lose him. He was at his wits end with this war, and he was going to put an end to it once and for all. Even if it meant laying down his own life. You sobbed, squeezing his wrist impossibly tighter, praying that if you did he wouldn’t be able to leave, to leave you behind. Katsuki released a shaky sigh, he let himself incline down to your level and pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. It was short, but by the way his eyes were clenched shut you could see he was resisting the urge to ravish himself in your beauty. He exhaled through his nose, nostrils flared when he turned away from you, lips tight lipped as he began to regain composure. He refused to meet your scrutiny, afraid that if he examine your beauty for a second longer he would have second thoughts.

“I love you (y/n). Please forgive me.”

“...What?”

He untangled his wrist from your sweaty palms, his once raging stare occupied with nothing but heartache and heavy sorrow. That all disappeared when he met Kirishima’s optics with a scowl and a stern nod. You trembled when you watched Katsuki clap his grip onto Kirishima’s shoulders, the former stumbling slightly at the impact.

“Take her as far away from here as you can, and if I don’t come back... You take care of my girl you hear me?” His profound voice trembled, and as soon he received a nod of affirmation from his friend he turned his back on him and you. Without so much as a sparing glance, and your heart dropped 50 feet below you.

“No! Katsuki no!”

You whimpered. You instantly made a run for your lover but before you get too far Kirishima grabbed a hold of your waist and pulled to back whilst you writhed in his arms, howling and sobbing after Katsuki.

“No! No! Let me go Kirishima! Let me go! Katsuki come back! KATSUKI! ”

Tears flowed your face without remorse, your throat ached as you screamed at the figure that disappeared into the trees, the silver beam of moonlight that broke through the tree line outlined powerful structure splendidly. Kirishima whimpered beside you, struggling to persevere in keeping you back as you howled and weeped after his friend. You eventually fell limp in his grasp, too weak to resist him any longer and only containing the energy to wail in agony. Kirishima’s knees wobbled, stifling his own cries he struggled to keep you upright and move. He failed. Falling to his knees all he could do now was mourn with you and whisper his apologies.

“Come.... We must leave before they get any closer.” Kirishima whispered after a few prolonged moments, his voice nasally and gruff. He carefully rose from his knees—which still trembled terribly— and grasped your elbows to assist you as well, but he froze when he saw he look on your face. An expression of renewed vigor and determination.

“(y/n)? What are yo—“

It was a plain graze to his bicep, but it was enough to send a sudden pulse through his body and his eyes rolling to the back of his skull as he fell limp. A simple sleeping spell you had learned at a young age, yet it’s effects last only 10 minutes before he would awaken.

“I’m sorry Kirishima. I refuse to run from this.” You scanned his unconscious form a moment, and made a mad dash into the trees in the direction you last saw Katsuki. The bare soles of your feet ached, sprinting over twigs and sharp rocks. You would only falter when you got deep enough into the forest in which you began to hear the howls and hollers of both man and wolf, occasional screams and yelps as well. You kept running until you found yourself in a large clearing at the mountain side, and just a couple meters ahead you could make out the shapes of some senior mages you knew and wolves who seemed to be outnumbering their foes quite drastically, but were at a disadvantage in terms of power.

Cautiously, you made your way around the commotion and squatting behind the thickets. you had been an apprentice under your grandmother to become a storm mage like her, but even if you knew some fairly powerful spells it wasn’t going to be enough to take on a handful of far more experienced sorcerers. Adrenaline flowing through your system, pounding about in your chest and head as you struggled to come up with a plan of action. Your legs throbbed but you couldn’t remain hidden forever, peered over the small sprigs and leaves to search for a specific golden canine.

It was moments before you finally spotted him, farther into the clearing he was evading the attacks of a elder mage. Large orbs of energy being thrown at the Alpha male proved futile when he practically sidestepped each one, and the sorcerer was growing quite frustrated and desperate. Katsuki was too occupied with the man in front of him he failed to noticed another approach him from behind, bright amber flames flickering across his palm and a devilish grin across his lips as he got increasingly closer to the Alpha. In a split-second you took one great leap from out of the vegetation and sprinted in his route, the adrenaline surges through your body so fast you could feel bile rise to your throat and the sailva thicken on your tongue. But not for a second did you hesistate, as you got closer you flexed your fingers, feeling a piercing heat spread from your fingertips to your forearms. Once you had gotten close enough you pounced and tackled the fire mage to the ground.

You both fumbled, twisting your body so you straddled the man and before he could counter you gripped his head between your hands and let an intense wave of electricity through your palms. The male in return shrieked, falling comatose in your grasp in mere seconds. You unfurled your fingers from his cranium, taking quick huffs and slowly standing to your feet. You gawked down at the mage, your muscles slightly sore and weak from the exertion.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!”

A booming growl broke your trance, pivoting on your heels to look at the wolf who marched toward you furiously, the elder sorcerer lay mutilated behind him. “You shouldn’t be here! You could’ve gotten yourself killed!” He snarled breathily, you appeared so frail in comparison to him, he towered over you even in his wolf form though he hunched over slightly to meet your (e/c) visionaries. You met his own crimson ones, completely livid. “You’re a fool if you really thought I’d let you turn your back on me like that. You’re a complete asshole!”

You pushed a finger to his woolly chest, your movements frantic as you hollered. Katsuki could only stand there dumbfounded, startled by your unexpected outburst. However he just wasn’t capable of resisting a smirk as you kept up your rambling about how selfish and moronic the ruffian was.

“Are you even listening to a single thing I’m saying Katsuki?” You finally ask and in response he unleashed a deep chuckle “Not a single word princess.” You growled and promptly pinched his blonde audit roughly which left Katsuki to jerk away from your grip with a small yelp. “What the fuck, you shitty woman?! The hell was the for? You know how much that shit hurts!”

You watched in amusement at such a dominant figure pussy away from a small nip, his ear now lopsided as he hopelessly to try and remove the stinging throb. You carefully amble toward him and seize his soft cheeks into your hands. “Because Katsuki, the fact that you sincerely thought you could just leave like that.. It breaks my heart. You do not get to abandon me once everything goes to shit, you chose me as your mate. I am not going to run, not from this and certainly not from you. Argue with me all you want, be a stubborn ass. I don’t care, I’m with you through it all.” You whisper, Katsuki huffed in defeat at your declaration and decided it would be best to keep his mouth shut. Threading your digits through the wild tufts of fur. Katsuki emitted a heavy purr at the action, his eyelids fluttered close.

His lids flew back open and his nostrils flared. The faint aroma of an unreleaved individual left him stiff, on instinct he sunk his canines into your night gown and launched you to the side. In an instant, all too familiar splinters of ice striked Katsuki head on, his form colliding violently at the base of a tree. “Katsuki!” You hollered after him, appalled at the motionless bundle of blonde laying in the fields of grass. You didn’t have the time to check if he was still alive when a figure stepped from the shadows.

“Mother?” You gaped at the woman in front of you, her once calm nature gone. She glares at you like an absolute savage, her mouth agape in a silent scream and her hands covered in frost from the use of her magic. Your mind all but clear, frozen to any movement you begged to take so all you could do was speak. “Mother.” you repeated and curled your lip, never had you thought you could so much resentment toward someone who had once meant so much to you, that was until now. Her scowl intensified at this, sneering in disgust as she began to circle you.

“Your judgement has been tainted by that demon! That... Devil! You’re not my daughter. My daughter would never allow herself to manipulated by such a beast. Allow me to be so kind and put an end to your misery!”

Her palms aimed toward you, a slew of words spilled from her lips and another wave of ice raced towards you. You still couldn’t move, and even if you could the rate the icicles we’re reaching you wouldn’t be able to evade it in time. On impulse, you raised your own hands. The same heat and prickles coarsing through your veins, and with your own mumbled words an enormous discharge of lightning boomed through the ice, tearing it in half and send shards flying all around you. The bolt of lightning didn’t seem to cease in momentum, charging rapidly toward your mother. All she could do was watch as the powerful fulmination surged toward her, and with a final screech it striked devastating blow to her chest. She soared backwards, her body disappearing back into the darkness of the forest. You stood triumphant, but in a great deal of pain.

Your arms where left severely burned and a furious red, the dull pounding made your head spin. Though you ignored the aching and immediately sprinted to Katsuki’s unconscious frame, small crystals of ice clung to his fur on the side of impact. As you neared his body you just about cried when you heard the heavy breaths that left his mouth, labored and raspy but a clear indication that he was still alive. You maneuvered tourist his large cranium upon your lap and assessed the damage done to him. You reached out to caress his coated chest, around the location the ice rammed into him. Katsuki began to whimper in response and you quickly retracted your hand. You choked on your sobs as you stared at him, you were far too weak to perform any healing spells on him. Even if you tried you would kill yourself before you would even be able to mend a single bone in his body. With that the tears broke out like water from a dam, you had never felt so powerless in your life, so weak. You knew you could’ve done more to insure his saftey but you simply were not strong enough.

Loud and boisterous howls sounded off behind you almost in a cheering manner in the direction of the clearing. You smiled crookedly, turning back to the wolf in your lap you cupped his cheeks once again threaded your insensate digits gingerly through the blonde pelt. “Katsuki, wake up. They did it. We did it. Wake up so you can see! Please..” You pleaded in a whisper to the unconscious male, fruitless attempts to soothe him through his suffering. Your heart clenched painfully with every passing second “I’m sorry Katsuki.. I’m so sorry..” You sounded like a fucking child , you were crying hysterically as you continued to observe your love’s trembling and broken form.

Thunderous pounding resonated behind you, gradually getting closer and without hesitation you roared in the direction of the sound.

“Over here! Katsuki’s badly hurt!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“Come with me. I want to show you something.”

His voice was as inticing as ever, his hand outstretched for you to take. You gave him a gentle smile and intertwined his fingers into yours, peering back to examine the three miniature silhouettes outlined by the candlight covered in pelt and wool blankets.

“They’ll be fine, they’re heavy sleepers.”

You snorted at this, rolled your eyes dramatically as Katsuki led out out of the comfortable teepee and into the woodlands. “I wonder where that got it from.” You squeezed his palm teasingly, Katsuki grumbled lowly in reply. He escorted you through the forest, the warm milky glow of the moon lighting the way. “Where are we going?” You finally asked, huddling into his side and nuzzling your cheek into his bicep . “Weren’t you ever told that patience is a virtue? We’re almost there.” He stated with a click of his tongue, his stride never stalled for a moment as he continued to lead you through the trees.

It was minutes when he then guided you through some brambles and bushes, and the sight you had been graced with was absolutely breathtaking. There you stood on a grassy cliff side by the sea, the ocean vast and wide. The waves boldly clapped against the boulders and stones below and wafted the briny aroma to your nostrils. You could almost taste the salt on your chapped lips, though that wasn’t even the best part. The Moon was the utter show-stopper. The Moon stood enormously in the sky, hovering just over the sea and seemed like a mere arm stretch away.

“Do you like it?” Katsuki broke your attention on the scene in front of you, tenderly wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his firm chest. You found yourself so entranced with the view it was getting increasingly harder to focus on anything else. “It’s incredible Katsuki… I love it.” You murmured, tracing soft lines on the arms that trapped you and relaxing in his hold. He ran the tips of his calloused fingers up and down your hips “I’m glad. It’s called a Super Moon, it only happens every couple of years, and I’ve been planning to show you this for some time.” You cackled, giving a small pinch to the mucle on his right forearm. “Wow, I’m impressed Katsuki. Who knew you could be so romantic.” You could almost feel the blood rush to his face, a crimson tint decorating his handsome face. “Tch, shut up.. It’s just my way of saying thank you.”

“Thank you? For what?” You brows furrowed in confusion, you focused your regard onto the the smooth ripples of the water. You felt Katsuki rest his chin on your dome, his pecs expanding on your shoulder blade when he sighed. “For everything. For saving me my ass, for giving me a couple of rebels for kids, and for loving me despite my reputation. You gave me something to live and strive for, so thank you.”

You grinned from ear to ear at his confession, biting your lip to suppress the intensity of your love for him. “I suppose I should be thanking you too. You gave me something to live for as well.” Katsuki gave a heavy chortle, leaning down slightly to indulge himself in your neck. His fiery breath against your artery sent tremors down your spine, nose nudging vertically up your collar.

Times changed, people along with it. His arrival in your life was unexpected and yet fulfilling to a great extent. You found each other in a place where darkness resides in, and together you and Katsuki illuminated a future you had both been blind to. You felt as though your eyes had been opened to new side of life. Surrounded in clarity, fullness and most of all, the beauty in love.

So you both stood embraced on the cliff side bathing in the pure rays of the Moon, who seemed to shine brighter than the brother Sun. Blessing the sky with her divine presence and joining the stars that freckled the black sky, the navy ocean acting as a mirror, reflecting the Moon flawlessly. She was the mother of the night sky, a goddess watching over every beating heart, because she is always there, close to our earth to keep us company while she can.

“I love you Katsuki.”

“I love you too princess.”

.•° ✿ °•.

“ тнe мoon тeacнeѕ υѕ тнaт darĸneѕѕ can’т нιde тнe вeaυтy oғ lιғe, ιғ we ĸnow нow тo reғlecт тнaт вeaυтy. “

- ᴅᴇʙᴀsɪsʜ ᴍʀɪᴅʜᴀ

╚═══°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°═══╝

Tumblr really likes to test my patience (≧Д≦) I kept forgetting to save the draft and lost about 1,000 words each time, I honestly thought about deleting it out of frustration. That and I’m not really that proud with how it turned out. But here it is! Thank you for reading and requesting. You are more than welcome to leave feedback on my works. ♡

- 𝖑𝖎𝖟 ☾ ✩

𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 : (𝟔/𝟐𝟑/𝟐𝟎 - 𝟕:𝟓𝟖 𝐩.𝐦.)

#katsuki bakugou oneshot #katsuki bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugou x reader #boku no hero academia #katsuki x reader #werewolf katsuki bakugou x reader #bnha oneshots #mha oneshot

201 notes · View notes

sinkix · 4 years ago

Text

《What your fav Haikyuu!! Character says about you│Nekoma Edition》

Yo-hoo! Here’s another part to this potential(?) series! I hope you enjoy the possible call-outs in some of these lmao. Writers block been kicking my ass recently but I had a lot of fun writing these. Enjoy <3

You can find the Karasuno ver. here

✧✧✧✧✧ ✧✧✧✧✧ ✧✧✧✧✧ ✧✧✧✧✧

Kuroo:

Have a hand fetish and will not say no to choking.

Daddy kink™

Will not accept anything below 6 inches.

More of a dog person but would love to own a black cat.

You drool over tattoos.

Your grades are mostly B’s but you know in your heart you deserve that A, and tbh you probably do. Chase ur goals bby.

Halloween is likely your favourite holiday.

You have to resist not to carve a dick into the pumpkin EvEry GodDAmN YeAr.

You either study for 6 hours consecutively or cannot study at all and you get very frustrated at this.

Have the potential to be a good leader and command the room but probably don’t put it to use as much as you should.

Your playlist parkours from sad 3am crying into your pillow songs to aggressive punk music you could rob a store to.

You like bad boys who hang around bars and look like they would put out a cigarette on your forearm and call you a slut. Just stating facts sweaty xoxo.

Either dress very feminine and girly with a ‘smol girl uwu’ aesthetic or a hardass punk who would kick your ass for a can of beer no in between and tbh both are equally hot.

You’re a big softie at heart either way and just want to be held and told everything will be okay.

Ur a hoe for when people stroke your hair or caress your chin it’s your ultimate weakness.

Watched Rick & Morty.

Twice.

Sleeves rolled up veiny forearms and donning a silver watch are your muse and something you fantasise about frequently.

Most of your memes are shitty top text bottom texts that are somehow funny and I don’t understand why lmao.

You call someone ‘bro’ even if it’s someone you’re immensely attracted to.

Did someone say ties? No it’s just ur dirty ass thoughts thinking about that hot business dudes attire from across the street and how you wish they were tied around ur wrists.

Probably had a crush on Jeff the Killer as a tween and are relentlessly haunted by your old Wattpad library.

Tbh any dark-haired dude with bedhead that screams rugged and probably not good for you is something that draws you like a moth to a flame.

You often question why every person you’ve fallen for has been a Scorpio and curse that tendency of yours.

Dw man they’re hot so I feel u.

Kenma:

Went through a ‘I’m not like other __’ phase and it’s something that you think about a lot and wish you didn’t.

Watched dan & phil as a kid.

Any mention of Pokemon has you turning into a rabid beast you get way too excited.

It’s cute though dw bby.

Pretty antisocial but interesting to talk to.

Your family often question how you’re able to sleep in till 3pm and judge you heavily for it.

Nocturnal night owl gang rise up.

Frequently have bags under your eyes but somehow manage to pull it off.

Listen to ASMR on the down-low and will never admit it to a single soul.

Frequently go on BL binges and have many related book marks.

You pray that someone will never find your laptop bc holy fuck the amount of smut on that.

You wear scarves & beanies even when it isn’t that cold outside.

100% went through a scene hair phase/attempted to.

You dye your hair a lot or REALLY want to.

You have a voice kink low-key so anyone with a pleasant/soothing sounding voice just gets u goin’.

Cats are your favourite animal and you either do or want to own several.

Would name them after video game/anime characters u fuckin nerd lol.

Speaking of cats ,you fantasise heavily about cat-boys and have a folder dedicated to them.

Oversized hoodies are your vibe and always ball the sleeve hems in your fist as a comfort mechanism.

Shopping centres are your worst nightmare and trigger your claustrophobia or social anxiety and honestly I feel that spiritually.

Have a cute sticky note collection.

You like a lot of music consisting of guitar and slow/soothing beats.

You also fw EDM/ techno on occasions.

Honestly wouldn’t wanna anger you since you have a seething temper when pushed far enough.

It’s the kinda temper that’s eerily quiet but no less terrifying, like the other person can tell you are graphically plotting their demise.

You love sleeping to the sound of rainfall and often play those nature ambience videos while you sleep.

Never tidy your sheets and it’s just a big scrunched up heap of fabric in the centre of your mattress most of the time.

Make your fucking bed.

Lev:

Your ships are chaotic and shamelessly controversial.

Would do something just for the sake of creating mayhem lmao.

You were the fucker who stuck their chewing gum under the desk, I see you.

Your brain never stops whirring it’s a constant hurricane of crackhead energy and you have no idea how to turn it off.

Would eat a stick of pencil lead for $2

You don’t help your situation with the amount of coffee/energy drinks you consume.

The class clown who cries themselves to sleep.

Such a wholesome dumbass but somehow kinda intimidating???

Even if you’re not confident you can do something you’ll try anyway and honestly I respect that about you.

You !! use!!! a lot??!! of!! random punctuation!!! so you always??!?!? seem!!111!! excited!!!!!11!?

Every time you’ve ever tried to make a sandcastle it has failed.

You tried to eat the sand once but we don’t talk bout that.

You would also pick up slugs and snails and chase your friends around with them.

Can never tell whether people are laughing with you or at you and while you don’t let it show it high-key bothers you when you’re laying alone in your room at night.

Not one to hold grudges, you carry a ‘shit happens’ mentality which is v good but it sometimes leads to people taking advantage of it or walking all over you.

Your meme collection is both questionable and horrifying.

Like how many cursed images and heavily distorted pictures does one person need.

Never organise the files on your PC/laptop so it looks like a complete dumpster fire.

The one at sleepovers who persistently woke everyone else up with their snickering and refusal to sleep till dawn.

For the love of Asahi charge your damn phone.

I see that red bar and ‘12%’

Charge it now.

Bought a plant one time, gave it a name and talked to it frequently.

It died not long after bc u forgot to fucking water it.

No one better ever make you responsible for a pet.

Type of person that when someone asks you to tag along on an endeavour no matter how stupid it is you will agree.

2am skydiving in france? hell yeah.

Midnight shopping spree and spending over half your pay check? count you in.

Exploring an abandoned hospital and performing an Ouija board to summon the demons of hell? you’re damn right you’ll be there.

I hope you have a mum friend by your side bc if not how are you still alive.

You sometimes put the milk in before the cereal and it’s something I’ll never forgive you for.

Yaku:

Very responsible and usually make the right decisions.

You do have moments where you act like a complete dumbass though.

Like u go from 50 year old to 5 year old in the blink of an eye.

A hopeless romantic but it’s a side you don’t often reveal.

Prefer strawberry milk over any other flavour.

You’re the type of person to shower twice a day w/o fail.

Where that stank smell coming from? Not you clearly bc your skin is basically 90% The Body Shop’s rose scented soap at this point.

You get stomach aches a lot and you can’t figure out why.

Probably an allergy to everyone’s bs.

Really good at dirty talk even though you don’t seem the type so people are always taken aback.

You have to be really in the mood though otherwise it falls flatter than Oikawa’s ass, use your skill wisely.

You often call people clowns when you know you’re secretly the biggest one going.

Honk honk, hoe.

You send messages in one paragraph rather than multiple texts unless you are REALLY excited.

People underestimate you at times then are shocked when they realise you are capable of being a fire-breathing dragon from the flaming pits of hell.

You like spicy chicken wings.

Such a petty little shit at times lmao.

Enjoy the view from the top of mountains so you either hike a lot or really want to.

Way more of a cat person since it’s just much more convenient for you.

Usually pretty cheerful or calm and people are drawn to your stable/friendly aura.

Went through a phase of drinking mountain dew and your body still feels the awful effects

Fav element is probably air.

You’re 5′6″ or shorter.

Box dyed your hair brunette several times and can never get the pigment out to this day.

Yamamoto:

Whenever you smell something weird in the room you always internally freak out and think it’s you.

Head-butting walls is your hobby.

You fell off your bike as a kid and still have the scar on your knee.

Probably have tons of ear piercings.

Would tame a pigeon and call it Larry.

You get frequent nosebleeds and can never tell if it’s a medical issue or your extreme simping for fictional men/women.

Hopefully the latter.

You constantly chew your pen/pencil in class so you never lend them to anyone out of embarrassment.

I really hope no one ever lends you stationery bc 30 minutes later it’ll look like it was mauled by a rabid rottweiler.

You really want to own a dog and would call it something intimidating like Banshee or Diablo.

You bleached your hair that one time and it almost fell out so now you’re forced to stay at least 10 metres away from all at-home hair dye products.

You tried your best though bby so A for effort, even if it did look like dehydrated ramen afterwards.

Your grades are mostly C’s and you’re barely passing bc you just don’t care about your classes lol.

Still though you’re actually pretty smart so put it to good use you lazy oaf, channel that crackhead energy into something good.

Your phone screen has several cracks in it from when you dropped it on the bathroom floor while shitting and you’ll always be angry at yourself for that.

You have some really weird quirks but you make it work.

Actually a v chill person but you just kinda attract chaos/trouble wherever you go.

Carry a lighter with you even when you don’t need one.

Shy texter but once people see you irl you are the complete opposite, you just dk how to text without coming across as awkward.

One of those people that’s unintentionally funny and always get confused when you make someone laugh but it makes you feel good regardless.

Have a cool necklace collection and own at least one dog-tag/army style pendant.

Should really consider buying a rabbit you would look so cute w/ one.

You have really nice legs and people should compliment them more.

Either severely dehydrated or overly hydrated to the point you are peeing pure tap water so for the love of god please learn moderation, your kidneys and bladder will thank you for it.

Inuoka:

Your favourite character would be Hinata but you like people taller than you so your love for Inuoka spawned.

You really enjoy using the double spiderman meme.

Cannot correctly verbalise your feelings without creating a minimum of 10 misunderstandings but once people are used to it it’s kinda endearing.

You usually wake up in a good mood and people can never fathom how or why.

You either stay up till 5am or you wake up at that time no in between.

A morning person bc you love the sunrise.

Change your lock-screen very regularly bc you get bored.

Your humour consists solely of poop jokes.

When you don’t understand a joke you laugh anyway and hope they don’t ask you if you actually get it.

Happened once and you’re still traumatised from the cricket silence that fell upon the room.

Really like the taste of lemonade and drink it more often than you should.

Often think about what you would look like with a shaved head.

More of an extrovert but def have occasional introvert tendencies where you wanna be left tf alone.

Never allowed to pick up anything in stores bc the last time you did you sniffed a scented candle and it shattered to the floor.

Constantly have spontaneous ideas of what to change about your appearance.

You use a lot of hand gestures like thumbs up and peace signs.

‘Dude’ and ‘lmao’ is 90% of your vernacular.

Your nails are a disaster, some are down to the nub while others are pretty grown out bc you only bite a select few please sort it out.

Look really good in red.

Your laptop has way too many tabs open from random google searches of words you didn’t know the meaning to.

You read a lot of books but for like 10 minutes at a time bc you have the attention span of a walnut.

You are the type of person to nuke your AO3 tags with things that aren’t even relevant purely bc you found them funny.

Your Tumblr drafts are a nightmare, you have like 100+ in the works yet keep starting new projects why do you do this.

Happy sunshine but you have a LOT of mood swings like that shit comes out of nowhere.

Cry pretty often but no one ever sees and it’s usually because of said mood swings.

You always smile and pick yourself up again though which I commend you for.

TYPES IN CAPITALS IN SITUATIONS THAT DO NOT REQUIRE SAID PUNCTUATION SO YOU SEEM LIKE YOU’RE YELLING ALL THE TIME.

#hq #haikyuu #nekoma #yaku morisuke #lev haiba #yamamoto taketora #kuroo testuro #kenma kozume #inuoka sou

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punkandsnacks · 4 years ago

Text

Between Wolves & Doves, Chapter Fifteen; Anticipation.

Author: @punk-in-docs & @adamsnackdriver

Also on AO3-

Masterlist-

Trigger Warnings: No warnings in this chap- animal shapeshifting but thas about it really-

Synopsis: Vampire!Kylo x OC love story. Inspired by BBC’s Dracula. Also inspired by Austen’s Pride & Prejudice.

He’s been stalking this earth long since civilizations can possibly fathom. Before records even began. He sneers at the fact that this pitiful young world has only just begun to see his reign of it.

He’s dined with moguls, emperors, princes. He’s consorted with bloodthirsty ruthless Queens in their courts, and whispered into the ears of powerful King’s, whose names still echo through millennia.

In his myriad of centuries gifted to his immortal self he’s been many many things. He’s been a lowly pauper. A crusading knight. An assassin. A sell sword. A soldier. A wanderer. A simpering suitor and a voracious unyielding lover. Aimlessly lost in time- besieging this earth. Ripping it apart and drinking what’s left.

He was made in the hinterland between snow and dirt and pine trees. Crusted with ash and blood and gouged from battle. Born anew. Sired from the hell-mouth of war. He was made in 789 AD.

He’ll come undone, one bitter winter night, in England, in 1816.

~ ~ 🥀 ~ ~

The very next days seemed to crawl by. As if time itself was dragging through claggy thick treacle.

Nothing moved quickly and Iris knows it’s because she’s anticipating the weeks-end more than any other event she’s ever awaited on in her life.

More than Yuletide morning. More than her birthday. More than buying a new book or taking an early morning walk all to herself. More than a sunny frosted morning where everything seems to glimmer as if crafted from gold, or seeing wildflowers dot the woods with their colour in spring.

She’s waiting on that much anticipated midnight with baited breath. Every second closer to it is both torture and sweet blessed relief.

She fulfils her remaining days with a permanent smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

Even her acetous mother remarks upon it. She tells her daughter the fine manner of her engagement must be bringing her joy. Iris bites her lip to keep from grinning.

She clutched her romantic secret all that tighter to her chest. Moulded it like warm clay to clasp around her glad heart.

Mother and Maratella insist on setting a date. And getting her whole ‘bouquet’ of daughters measured for their gowns.

Posy and Flora for they are of course to be bridesmaids, and Iris, of course, for her bridal gown. They get up a merry party to Pembleton one fine clear morning.

The snow and frost govern the landscape once more. Ebbing back in after the recent rain. The brown frost-hardened hills and trees and fields. Governed under the fierce cyclops of a mustard sun blazing in the effortless blue of the cobalt sky. It made Iris think of robins eggs, and the golden buttery buds of spring. When the bulbs and shoots blossom up through the earth with their sickly scent and colour.

It is a fine clear day and it indicates that the end of the long bitter winter approaches. The cold is as ferocious as ever so Maratella insists upon them not catching a chill in the vile icy winds. Shes most kind as to stop to collect the Misses Ashton’s in the Hux’s second largest coach. They are all bid to the dressmakers in the high street. Along the medieval shamble of barrel window and oak timber shops.

The news of her engagement spread far and wide. Before her boots have even touched the cobbles, stepping out the coach, their party is virtually mobbed by matrons and ladies of their acquaintance.

Iris had in mind a silly image of them prowling at the pavements like baying wolves, chasing after the muddy churn of the carriage wheels; anything for to first seize that newest scrap of gossip.

Posy and Flora ladle up all the attention. As does Mama. Proudly boasting - along with Maratella - of the suitability of such a fine match. Iris wants to roll her eyes as Flora greatly exaggerated the romantic manner of Hux’s proposition. She gabbled about a room full of red roses and how Iris wept tears of delight as he swept her into his arms.

The ravenous eyes turn toward her. “May we see the ring, Miss Ashton?” Comes out of numerous smiling mouths like a chorus of cawing seagulls. Iris feels like they’ll rip her glove off themselves if she doesn’t.

Unused to such attention, she blushes as she slips off her grey calfskin glove. Wrenching it off her hand. There is a troupe of awed gasps as they admire the diamond set in the gold band.

Iris feels as if she’s sticking her hand into a dangerous animals maw. Like some exhibit at a zoo. Feeding her hand to the rabid starving tiger’s. There’s so much gasping and in taking of breath it’s a wonder they don’t suck her up. And take half the street with them.

Luckily, Maratella fusses that they’ll be late if they don’t make haste. She then proudly utters that the ladies five, their happy little bridal party, are off to Madame Larousse’s dressmaking parlour for a wedding gown. And Mrs Ashton and Mrs Hux are to see to both having new hats to mark such a happy occasion.

The flock of ravenous ladies ceases. Satisfied with their mauling of Iris and her news and her engagement ring. The party is able to proceed along the pavement unhindered.

They slip into Madame Larousse’s. Greeted by the lanky, heavily perfumed proprietor herself. She was a tall, ungainly woman with poky shoulders and an always over-rouged complexion. And will always, without fail, exaggerate a mildly French accent to gild her words. For she believes that all the best dressmakers and seamstresses were French.

The tall stretch of Madame claps excitedly and demands to see Iris’ hand when she hears they are here to purchase ribbons and lace and all things fit for a bride. She is whisked away by a very efficient assistant. And stood on a pedestal for the next hour and half.

Iris spends that time with swatches pinned to her. Flapped around her ears. Tucked under her collar. There’s so many back and forth decisions from her mother, it makes her quite dizzy. A tape drawn tight around her so many times to squeeze the stuffing out her. Eventually, they stumble to a conclusion. It was to be a saffron orange.

Flora remarked it made her rather look like a carrot.

Around her they lounge on the chaises provided, clutched around the mirror and the box she’s on, and they drink sweet tea. Brown sugar sprinkled and stirred into the earl grey.

They all pose interjections and opinions and preferences on her. Iris just stands there like a tailors doll. Only half there.

She’s caught sight of a swatch of ruby-wine velvet near her thigh and is stroking it fondly. Remembering Lord Rens exquisite bed coverlet. How it felt under her fingers, it took her ricocheting back to that moment. And it calmed her.

That’s how she can stand all this grousing and prodding. It reminds her of her secret and she nearly faints off that box pedestal.

They settle on a pallid frothy blue silk instead. To better bring out the excellence of her mud and twigs hair. Mama chooses the best silk madame has in stock. Says she will have to fetch more in from her supplier especially. From London.

That causes much excitement for Flora and Posy. They’d never had a dress made from material fetched as far nor from a city as grand as London, before.

Posy had selected a teasing slip of pink silk. Flora, for her more fiery hair, chose a delicate pastel pea green. Iris thinks they’ll look like a platter of French fancy cakes.

Then a pang of something hits through her heart with all the intensity of an arrowhead studding there - she hopes Mama lets Posy and Flora keep their new gowns after she’s gone. She hopes very much. They are the stillest girls in existence but they do deserve nicer things than what they get.

By Madame’s husky drawl of a smoky voice is she brought back into the room, the awful pink pink pink room. Stuffed with velvet chaises and bolster cushions and trimmed fringed oil lamps. Great big fat rosebuds sprout up the wallpaper and flourish across the fabric of the pillows on the settee.

It’s as if the whole room is the summoning of the evil fairy in sleeping beauty. Who commanded swarms of brambles and thorns and swamping plants to take over. That was this room to the last pink thread - only it was instead summoned to contain every incarnation of pink roses as far as the eye could see.

Her ears burn hot and pink as Madame talks of London. Relating the gossip back to someone in the village. Matter of fact, a certain Lord-

“Apparantly, you know he sent that tall turbaned butler of his up to London just yesterday...” Madame hushes to them in her hazy terribly-affected French.

“Sent him to Mayfair.” She grins crookedly as she measures from Iris’s hip to her hem. Barking orders at Suzy, her ever suffering assistant.

Maratella seems most diverted. “Pray whatever for?” She leans forwards. Perching her half eaten violet macaroon on her saucer.

“He sent him to Bond Street. You know there is an establishment there that supplies jewels to the palace. Apparantly he came back having purchased something.” Madame says.

“Pray why would be send his butler all that way?” Flora asks.

“Why, Miss Smith told me so this morning; she suspects Lord Ren has left his heart behind in Bavaria. He is soon to quit Hellford. She heard Clarence Pennington’s butler say that his housekeeper, Mrs Jones states that half his house is shut. And the staff vacated.” Maratella excites them all. Flora and Posy are mortified at such news.

“The house is emptying. And Lord Ren shall soon be gone.” She adds.

Mrs Ashton smiles gladly. “He is journeying back home to his castle I wager...” She delights. The spitting smug nature of her tone was clear. Good riddance.

“Who must he be besotted with I wonder?” Posy asks indelicately.

Iris tries not to be twice as smug. Thinking that she is that very woman.

He goes back to his castle and I will gladly go with him, she thinks.

The giddiness and joy roils in her stomach like golden champagne. Fizzes through her veins and she has to hide a smile. Biting her cheek hard.

“Well. if he is shortly to leave our shores. I’m willing to bet he’ll break a fair few maidens hearts in this county and the next over. Such a striking gentleman. The young ladies will certainly feel his loss most keenly.” Maratella comments in sadness for all the female admirers he’d amassed. They’d all be heart sore now he’s going away.

“You’re blushing Iris.” Flora sing-songs at her. Pointing it out. “Thoughts of your intended sweetheart?” She ribs her sister.

“You are a colossal pest. Flora.” Iris smiles at her. Matter of fact. Her little bug of a sister is quite right. She is thinking about the man she’ll marry.

Only another agonising hour whilst Mama and Maratella select their hats for the occasion. But Iris can atleast sit down and drink some much too sweet earl grey tea. Doesn’t have to stand on that wretched box for another hour.

Eventually their purchases were rung up and settled. Flora and Posy love Iris very much because she buys them two new ribbons each and some velvet buttons for their bonnets. They’re singing her praises as they quit the shop. Trilling like a pair of canaries about their gowns. Iris was glad to spend some of her pin money on them before she leaves for good.

She’s fully appraised of the weight of her actions. And the serious consequence of them. It would be ruinous for her mother and father. It would be a disaster for her sisters. But atleast she was of age and she could marry. Whatever else others might say of her - she fully believes Lord Ren’s intentions are honourable.

They can’t scandalise her for marrying Kylo. Just censure her for running away from Hux and jilting him. She’s certain he’ll recover amicably enough. He doesn’t love her. And his mother is suitably well connected. She could snap her fingers and summon another willing bride. She’s only sorry it can’t be her.

She’s despondent to remark upon the pain she’ll be causing hers and Hux’s family. But in time, they will recover. Posy would do well and Flora will follow in her footsteps. Mother will see to it they catch fine husbands when the time is right. Their mother is most skilled in that area.

The party journeys along Pembleton street. Maratella stops by the haberdashers to seek after some ribbons. Mama is in the milliners seeking after a new pair of occasion gloves. Posy and Flora amble slowly along the street with their sister. Watching the carriages and coaches trundle by. Various riders on horseback too.

A loud nickering snort behind her makes her turn. She can hardly hide the smile that quickly grows across her face when she catches sight of a lone rider on a huge stocky black stallion. Both man and his mount are furiously muscled beasts.

His Lordly attire is its usual. All black. Save for his white shirt and red cravat. The great overcoat frames his wide shoulders and his bulky chest. His boots gleam in the meagre sun. His grin tips up when he catches sight of her.

He looks terribly smug and Iris’s heart feels like it’s trying to ram out the cage of her ribs. This handsome lordly man who stole it away, sets it pounding freely and rampant in her chest.

She tries not to arouse the suspicion of her sisters. They were much too curious and meddling for their own good. She wants to protect her secret and she thinks she’s a proficient enough liar to accomplish it.

They burst into fits of giggles on seeing him. He rides Erland closer to where they are stood and dismounts. His strong boots thud into the frosty mud. His wool coat laps and swathes his body. He tethered himself to Erland. Massive gloved hand gripping the reins. The creature didn’t seem to have any care for wandering off. He just wished to see Iris - Kylo empathises with the horse. He rather feels the exact same.

Iris, Posy and Flora all curtsey to him. He bids them all a greeting. She bows her neck and when she looks up. His eyes fondly fix on her. Warm in the sun. The contrast of him is astonishing. Milky creamy complexion, bordered by the onyx shadow of his hair and eyes. Utter opposites in the juxtaposition.

“Miss Ashton. A pleasure to see you again. I trust you are still well recovered. You look very radiant this morning.” He comments. Walking Erland just that tiny step closer.

The obstinate animal his stallion is, reaches his nose out and snorts into her hand. Nudges her glove for pats and scritches of affection behind his ears. She doesn’t care that she’ll get horse hair on her. She strokes him.

“You are most kind. Your lordship. I am very well.” She smiles slightly. The pretty kiss of rose on her cheeks.

“I need not tell you Erland is pleased to make your acquaintance once more.” He remarks starkly. Hint of irony not lost on her. Erland almost nudges her to fall over with his big strong head. She laughs.

“Your ears must’ve been burning. Lord Ren. For we were just discussing you...” Posy flirts. Batting her lashes at the man.

Hands crossed in front of her. Like she was a genteel little doe. Iris glares narrowed silver dagger eyes at her sister to stop displaying herself so readily. As ever, the little vexation pays no attention. Not when there was a hot blooded male around.

Kylo tilts his head. Intrigued. “Is that so, Miss Posy?” He asks.

“We we’re discussing how heart sore all the young ladies hereabouts will be when you quit Hampshire...” Flora tells him.

Kylo takes her confession in his stride. “It’s true. And I am sorry more than I can exclaim to be leaving such carnage and desolation in my wake. But sadly I do return to Bavaria shortly.”

That handsome expression barely betrays a thing. The cold wind flounces and ruffles that wild hair. A tuft of it drifts in his face and tangled in his dark eyeline.

Iris decides in that moment he truly might be an angel sculpted by gods own hand; or a demon designed by the devil himself. She isn’t sure which of those creatures is all the more tempting.

One thing she’s certain of; He’d win that draw of most handsome, every time.

She quivers when those eyes gaze at her. Peels her right out her clothes and down to her goose pimpled skin. Then Posy has to go and open her foolhardy mouth some more...

“We were just helping Iris shop for her bridal gown.” She preens. “And our bridesmaids dresses.” She comments. Speaking as if she wants Kylo to snatch her up and steal her away to Bavaria. Stuff her in his pocket and run off with her.

“I had heard rumour of your engagement...” He lies. Iris is biting the inside of her lip and smiling genially to hide how wide her excitement wishes to make her smile grow.

“Show Lord Ren your engagement ring, Iris!” Flora bounces excitedly. Iris glares. Reminding her of the inappropriate nature of her words.

“Flora. Lord Ren is not interested in such matters. And I’m afraid we’ve already impressed upon too much of his time...” She insists.

Kylo holds out his hand to her. Steps closer so she has to crane her head back just to keep sight of his eyes. “I am certainly interested. And I might add, most eager to see the bauble that decorates such a fine, pretty hand.” He teases.

She decides he was designed by the devil. And lucifer gave him a silver tongue to boot-

Iris slips off her grey glove and gently lays her palm in his.

The way his fingers curl around hers is criminal. She tips her eyes up to his as he shifts closer and admires her ring. A soft smile tugs at his mouth. The gold winks at him in the sun. It’s a pretty delicate morsel. He can’t deny. But plain. Much too plain. Entirely humble as decoration went.

-it’s certainly nothing to the one he’d had Jomar go all the way to London to fetch for her from Bentley & Skinner on Bond Street.

“It is a fine ring. Miss Ashton. Sergeant Hux is the most fortunate man in England to have you as his intended bride. I’m quite envious of his fortuity.” He says. Bowing to lay a kiss on the back of her palm.

His eyes electrify her. He winks at her and she flushes with heat. Blood pressing up in her face.

“I’m sorry to hear of your leaving England. Lord Ren. Such a shame Hellford Park should be quitted before the summer.” She tells him.

Her palm leaving his. Sliding away from the touch of his hand would have made her wretched were it not for the heat in his bronzed eyes. Made a warmer melting shade by the shimmer of the buttery sun. And their shared secret lifts her heart.

“It is a great shame. But I’m eager to return to Ranlor. I’ve missed my homeland a great deal.”

“The rumour in circulation is that you have a certain lady in mind to return home too.” Posy dares most outlandishly. Iris chides her for her brash rudeness.

“Posy!” Iris calls out.

Kylo seems amused by it. “That would he telling. Miss Posy. Not to mention betraying the confidence of the most honourable lady in question.” He smirks at her sister.

Who giggles and blushes like it’s no ones business. His vampiric charms seeping out of his every pore, truly intoxicating to them, Iris can see it’s influence.

“Is she a great beauty? I imagine she is most elegant indeed and very superior and titled in rank and manner. And of great fortune...” Posy digs for more details. Kylo will reveal none.

“Pray. Don’t be impertinent twice-over.” Iris corrects. Posy pulls a vexed face. Shoves her tongue out at her sister.

Kylo’s chuckling. They were entertaining little chits. Relentless. But he admires something about that sparky quality. Iris had the same sense about her - only more sensible and humble.

“She is the singularly, most beautiful creature I’ve ever beheld in all my years.” He promises. “And I cannot wait to have her hand in marriage. She will make me a very blessed and lucky man.” He declares.

“How romantic.” Posy declares in a sigh. Flora dreamily agrees. They’re both veritably Moony eyed. Gazing up at him in wonder as a consequence. A silly girls kryptonite. A handsome and dark romantic man. A Byronic figure to set all the foolish girls swooning at the knees.

Kylo’s eyes sweep across to Iris at a passing glance. He smiles. And it almost undoes her.

“We must be on our way. We’ve availed ourselves of too much of your time. Lord Ren.” Iris says in parting. Trying to herd her vapid sisters away before they flirt anymore.

“We must go. For we are bid to the Hux’s tonight for a celebratory engagement supper.” Posy curtsies boasting as she’s bobbing away.

“Give the Sergeant and his family my warmest regards.” Kylo insists. Knowing what a barb that would be to Hux’s temper.

Iris turns and meets his eyes. Giving him a polite bowed head in parting. When Posy and Flora are otherwise looking elsewhere. She turns back and gives him such a look of longing and delight it makes him grin at her as she walks off down the cobbled pavement.

“Very good to see you again. Your Lordship. Have a pleasant rest of your day.” She insists.

Cajoling her sisters along the path and away before they get any notions. Erland snorts at her as she moved away. She smiles and gladly rubs the flat bone of his nose before she goes. Lord Ren stays standing until she does move away.

Kylo pats his neck, and hauls himself up on his strong stallions back once again. Booted feet in the stirrups. He adjusts on the saddle. Scanning the tumbled windows of the high street proprietors.

In the milliners, he sees a face like sour lemons and thunder glaring out at him. Mrs Ashton’s stony face peering outwards through the glass. Having seen his exchange with all her daughters.

He coaxes Erland into a slow walk. A little nudge in his side. He gives the foul Caroline Ashton his most winning enigmatic smile. And nods civilly in greeting at her as he rides off.

He sees it makes her lips purse in irritation.

Iris can’t resist glancing back at him. She knows those eyes watch her all the way down the street. She can feel them. Two pinpricks of heat, like candles, burning into her shoulder-blades.

It makes her too giddy for words.

They soon catch up with the rest of their party and are whisked away in the Hux carriage. Soaring across the dirty English roads. Mud churning in their wake as cold air and sunshine bounces off the roof.

Mama asks them what Lord Ren. Iris told them he was just politely passing the time of day. She seems satisfied with the answer. Iris fights not to squirm into shivers of desire at the merest intimation and memory of him.

Posy and Flora sing-song his romantic praises all the way home. Mother soon shuts them up with a cross cold stare.

The afternoon seems to fly her by. No sooner than she’s home and she’s readying herself for the dinner they’ll take at the Hux’s residence. Cavenham House.

The not so modest estate in the border of the next county. A gorgeous house if she’s being perfectly honest. Terracotta red bricked exterior, of modern Georgian design. Huge arched white windows. Rococo interior. All gilded with cherubs frolicking on the murky painted ceilings and baroque trim on every door. Rolling scrolls. Frescoes and pastel colours. Gilding, moulding and trompe l’oeils giving the illusion of motion and drama. Raining down from every ceiling.

A handsomely kept garden was also what it was resolutely famous for. Though it would not be pictured to its best quality in this dead winter. Spring will liven it soon. The hardy bright bulbs will crop up through the frost. But for now it remains speckled in snow with only the evergreens surviving.

Iris can see it all as they pull up the long stretch of the torch lit drive. In the coach Maratella was kind enough to send to collect them all.

Once again she was wedged beside Posy and Flora, and their shrill gossiping. Mother and Father opposite. Noiseless and as disagreeing as ever. Silence blazed between them as somber as a churchyard. They were about as animated with each other as two gravestones.

Iris dressed in her navy silk gown with 3/4 sleeves and a sheer white chemisette swirled with stitched white flowers, decorating her shoulders and neck. Meg cleverly weaves that teal ribbon into her hair coiffure again. She finishes the look with pearl droplet earrings and white satin gloves up to her elbows.

They are welcomed inside by stony faced servants in the blue Cavenham livery. Taken into the drawing room to meet their hosts. Maratella had invited some local flavour along also. Everyone’s merry and mingling. Posy offers to play a Handel piece on the Pianoforte before dinner is announced. She does so rather well. Thunks the opening notes in shocking volume but she picks up from that point onwards.

Iris is admiring the scenery from the drawing room window. Even in the dark she can see how lovely the gardens are. It doesn’t dissolve the fact that this house would still be a prison to her. There weren’t bars on the window and she won’t exactly be stitching mailbags - but it will still be her cage.

A handsome cage, she won’t deny. But a cage nonetheless as she mothers the children and lives for planning fine parties to boast of her and her husbands excellence. And slowly becomes a woman of high rank and no substance.

Hux moves to stand by her side, hands folded behind his back. A tall lean column of red, black and white in his ceremonial dress. Medals shining. Hair groomed. Perfectly respectable. Infuriatingly loveless, as always.

“You shall like the gardens in summer. I should think.” He remarks.

“They are most handsome.” She comments. “A fine prospect indeed.” She agrees.

They perfectly form the vision of lovers conversing by candlelight. She can hear Mama and Mrs. Hux cooing proudly behind them. It’s infuriating. Iris can’t spend the rest of her life in a manner such as this; being prodded and manoeuvred and gossiped over like a chess piece on a board.

“I care little for being out of doors. Save for riding with my regiment.” He impresses.

Iris nods. “I am perhaps overfond of walking. I take an excursion each day if I can.” She tells him.

He sniffs. And coldly watches the view before them. “Well. You shall have to make allowances and sacrifices when we are wed. I can’t have you scampering around the countryside when you are with my heir.” He insists.

Iris’s mouth turns dry. She makes little response to his words. He turns away to speak to someone else but she catches his arm to stop him.

“Please I just want to say-“ she starts.

She looks up into his face. The bright copper of his hair and the steel of his eyes. The surety of his rigid auburn brow. She doesn’t dislike him. He’s not an unpleasant man. Just, misguided.

She says what she’s thinking now before she loses the chance. No doubt he’ll think very badly of her when all is done.

“I think well of you. You know. You are a gallant man. Not lacking in honour or credibility. I admire that about you. Hux.” She says. Even if I can’t marry you for it.

He nods. Accepting her words. Then their granite faced butler coughs dryly and announces dinner to the room.

Maratella lets the engaged couple be seated next to each other at dinner. Wanting to encourage the tepid affection brewing between them. Iris doesn’t know what the woman expects from them. They weren’t matched for love but it’s as if that’s what she’s hoping to see blossom.

Maratella is hoping for romance to pass betwixt them.

It could and never will be that. Iris thinks.

Iris remarks inwardly to herself as she sips down her soup a la reine. Served alongside several large golden Bouchée à la reine’s.

The next course is of stewed beef and venison steaks, and a whole champagne poached salmon with slithers of white and black truffles decorating the cooked fish acting as scales.

More seafood came served in the form of fried then boiled sole, heaped in a terrine and a whole platter of pickled crab. A haricott of vegetables and mashed turnips. There was enough food spread on this very grand table, to keep them dining for a fortnight. Mrs Hux organised a feast intended to show off.

She gets everyone to toast to the newlyweds. The gentleman stand to raise their glasses and the ladies stay seated.

The pudding banquet is brought out and quite rightly enough, as she suspected, the whole table is flouncing in ruched fancy french sugar concoctions.

Silken French pies. Syllabubs of lemon and rose and brandy. Ice’s of all flavours. Custard tarts smothered with fat ripe fruit drowning steeped in syrup. Sugar plums and cinnamon and mace laced apple tartlets with baked custard. Iris indulged in some of the tarts and the fruits.

Posy and Flora fall upon creams and dainty fancies like hungry wolves. And eat until they are stuffed.

The ladies retire to the parlour for music and snifters of sweet ruby port wine. Iris indulges in a glass as her sisters and various other young accomplished ladies take to the pianoforte to sing and show off. Posy drags a reluctant Iris up to sing whilst she plays. She grumbles but bends to her sisters will.

She gives a shortly sweet chorus of ‘Let no man steal your thyme’ for it was the only song she could sing comfortably well.

She never much liked performing for amusement. Some girls were a glutton for it. Iris is no such a one. She stands with one hand on the pianoforte and the other folded behind her hip. She sings her choruses and smiles meekly at the small scattering of applause offered for her when she is done.

She heads back to her spot on the settee. Maratella is remarking to her mother how divine it will be to have a songbird in the house once again. Iris sits back in her seat and spends the rest of her evening in silence. Though she wants to say a great deal.

The evening slips past well enough. Night spills past her relatively quick. Another day gone. Another day closer to her happiness. She’s almost too giddy to contain it.

Then the time comes to bid goodnight to their hosts;

Iris watches as Hux fondly kisses her hand. Seeing her off out the rich gilded foyer out into the black black night. Sky so dark it’s a whole void studded with freckling stars. Cold shudders at the shivering trees.

She wants to say something impactful and veiled. To speak of her regard for him. She cannot think how best to do so. She swallows down her thick tongue. Remains a coward.

She can only hope in time, after the wake of her scandal settles. That Hux will find someone better suited than her. Maybe even find someone that he can love? She prays deeply for that little happy happenstance.

She is not so unfeeling as to wish a joyless life on the man who just wasn’t correct for her.

Her teeth grits with all the things unsaid. “I hope you’ll be happy.” She smiles lightly. He thinks her to be referring to the engagement that stands between them.

“I’m sure.” He comments. “Goodnight.” Is his curt response.

It doesn’t incense her. Tonight it vexed her. Caused a tiny crease between her brows. It seemed such fickle words to part on. But she leaves them be-

Let’s those words spirit up into the quiet undisturb of the night. The heavens can have those words. Iris wishes it could have been more. But how appropriate is it that even his parting words are found wanting.

She gets into the coach after curtseying a polite goodbye to Brendol and Maratella. She says something sweet to Iris about her singing. Iris cringes a smile. She won’t be thinking such good things about her shortly. She imagines she’ll curse her name for all of hell and heaven to hear. She’ll wake the sleeping dead cursing the day Iris was born.

Iris thanks her. For her hospitality. For her kindness. Under all her airs and graves, she’s a fairly nice woman and she should find a more amicable daughter-in-law to crow over.

She slots herself into the coach beside her sisters. Listens to the door slam shut. The rattle and crunch of it shifts on the gravel. Rumbled away up the long elegant curve of the drive.

Iris twists to look back. She isn’t sure why she wanted too. But they weren’t a dismal family. And she’s sorry for the pain and offence she’ll cause to them all.

She watches Hux’s stiffly-posed, regimented figure. Shadowed against the night. The scarlet of his blood coat. The ice white of his breeches stained blue, glowing in the night. The stars glimmer off his shining boots and off the pierce of his pale eyes. She wishes him well. She truly does.

They trundle on home. Full of food and as usual with Posy and Flora spouting gossip on and on endlessly. Mother chiming in. Father and Iris retain their silence. Eyes cross firing in a glance when they all agree on something cruel and senseless.

Westwell’s windows emerge gold out the dark. Surrounded by the bustling trees. All of the landscape is merely dark moulded shapes. Looming and shifting in the shadows. The moon casts washy film of silver to try and spill over the cover of smeared clouds.

They are just to the drive when a small dark shape flits overhead. Iris looks upwards, and sees the definable shape of a bird landing on her windowsill. She smiles giddily.

She exits the coach quick. Bidding them goodnight and rushing off up to her room. Her skirts picked up in her hands. Mama remarks how odd it is. Posy shrugs and supposes she’s got a secret missive to read from Hux.

Iris absolutely flies for her door. Twists the handle and launches herself in the room. Shutting the door firmly after herself. Pressing it with both hands flat to the wood.

The warmth of the fire hits her. She doesn’t even pay mind to the tiny crack of her open window. Or her swaying curtains that shift on the breeze.

She can only focus on the huge frame of a dashing vampire stood fireside. One elbow resting on the mantel as he gazes into the flames.

His big frame swallows up the whole room and strangled out all the air. The ochre of the blazing flames captured his skin. Turned that milky-cream of his complexion into pale fire.

She smiles and he does too. “Thank goodness it’s you. I was worried I’d scare seven shades out of your maid.” He drawls softly so his voice doesn’t carry. Smirk curling at the corners.

She crosses the distance. Her feet eat up the floorboards quick. She avails herself of an embrace. Throws herself into his arms.

The cloak of his fire warmed clothing envelopes her as his arms do. He smells like the damp snap of frosty woodland and the acid tang of woodsmoke. The night air of wild outdoors clings to every inch and fibre of his clothes. Swirls about him like a clouding tempest.

He chuckles as she gets herself in his hold. The deep bass of his voice rumbled through her skin and sinking to her bones. Her cheek mashed to his sternum. His arms close around her. Stroking her body through the rasping silk of her dress.

One big warmed hand clasps the back of her neck as the other holds the back of her waist. His nose nudges into the crush of her muddy hair. Her scent teases him just as much as his had, to her. Lavender and sage. The plain spice and calm floral scent.

“I could feel the happiness pouring off you as you alighted the stairs.” He smiles. She steps back and gazed up at him.

“How pretty you look tonight. Dove. You’re exquisite in silk.” He remarks when she steps away. Hand toying with the loose tawny curl at her ear. The sapphire dark of her dress suits her very well. Throws her complexion into brilliance. Does something to make the tones of her hair look rich.

She always looks ravishing to him.

She blushes. “I missed you all day. Isn’t that mad?” She asks.

“If missing is madness, then I’m out of my sane mind whenever you’re not in my sight.” He promises gently.

Big hands cupping her hot silken neck as he leans down to plant a firm, slanting kiss to her lips. His mouth is cold and he tastes of frosty air and wine.

Kissing him is like kissing someone who just stepped inside, taking shelter from a bitter cold wind.

She’s beginning to wonder if there is some clever addiction woven into his lips. One kiss never seems to be enough. She holds his wrists as he grabs her. Makes her feel small in his arms. She’s lost in his hold. It’s powerfully thrilling.

He breaks the kiss and his thumbs stroke at her cheeks. Her eyes glitter keenly at him. He spies the ring on her finger. The one that doesn’t belong there. It makes him smile.

“I’d like to surmise you snuck in here just to steal a kiss. But I suspect a different motive altogether?” She asks.

He broke into a grin that creases his eyes and bares his teeth in a smile. She was no thoughtless woman; his darling Iris.

She’s always thinking. Always fretting. Always mulling over things in her head.

That was one of the first things that that came to his notice about her. She tended to be introspective about all manner of things in comparison to her acetous mother who spewed vile words. And her daft sisters who spouted out their every dangerously silly thought.

He kisses her for that clever remark- slow and paced and soft. Languid like melting warm honey. Lips curling to hers.

“I do have some news. But kissing you will always my first priority.” He husks against her rosy lips. Her warm cheeks blaze from under his icy fingers.

“The date is set. We must leave tomorrow eve.” He tells her with a smirk.

Her stomach completely soars in giddiness. She doesn’t have to hide her grin here.

“It feels as if I’ve been waiting at eternity to hear those blessed words.” She cries in happiness.

“Slip away to me after everyone’s gone to bed.” He instructs. She agrees.

“Mother has been pleased with my conduct of late. She’ll have let her guard down over tonight. I’ll leave once everyone is abed. Even the maids.” She tells him.

Stroking her fingers down the finery of his waistcoat where they’re still stood close to each other. The material was so soft. The softest grain of velvet she’s ever felt.

“You don’t have to bring too much. I can buy you everything you may ever need.” He leers. Cupping her cheek. Feeling the smooth of her skin. Right up her jaw.

His eyes carve flinty paths down her neck as he strokes his fingers there. Her pulse quickens. He can feel and hear her blood slushing hot through her veins.

She shrugs. “I cherish very few possessions. Posy and Flora can have the rest.” She insists. Her hand coming up to stroke over his thick crook of elbow with the hand that’s touching her neck.

He drags the edge of the chemisette down and strokes along the flat of her collarbone. His eyes turn into a palette of bittersweet autumn. Orange and gold swirled with flecks of russet brown.

“Is it difficult?” She asks suddenly.

“Restraining from the need to...” Her face fixed on his. Words trailing away. Air bursting with heat and lust. His eyes snap from her neck to her face. Her cheeks bloom rose petal red. Blood red and hot.

“To feed?” He asks her. She swallows and nods.

His other hand catches the back of her hips reels her right in close. She gasps. Air around them thick and full of snapping sparking static. Her hands press to his cavernous chest.

“I have got several hundred years of restraint up my sleeve.” He crooks a smirk.

His eyes flicker to watch her jugular pulse. The thrum of her little timpani heart makes his mouth wet. He knows she’d taste like salt and sickly Turkish roses and warm bronze coins.

He presses the chemisette aside again and nudges his nose against her pulse point. Right at the epicentre of his life’s greatest desire. He hums a kiss against her neck and she almost faints-

“You shake all those very hard learnt lessons right down to their very foundations.” He promises.

“Iris my love, you are the hardest thing, I’ve ever had to resist.” He tells.

Swooping upwards to kiss at her cheek. Sighing in need against her hot warm skin. If he indulges the temptation of tasting her blood. He doesn’t even want to fathom what the raw animal in him will do to her. Such debauchery he’d surely scandalise her innocence to tipping point.

He will have her on their wedding night and not a second before.

Though the rogue in him does think how goddamn glorious it would be to have her on that bed of hers right now, torn out of that gown. Screeching his name for the whole house to hear. And they can listen to her rapture and whimper, and beg and writhe under the man who really does love her.

Bite her neck as he pumps deep into her slick heat. Gather up every groan as she opens those sweet pink thighs for him and claws at his back. He’d kiss her neck until she yanks her fingers into his hair and tugs. Opens that sweet songbird mouth and calls for him in her bliss, with that ambrosial voice.

He holds the backs of her hips and strokes the silk there with arcing curves of his thumbs. Drawing shapes on that stiff silk.

“I must tell you-“ She starts. “I never was much good at resisting you either. Even after knowing what you are. It shocked me I won’t deny. But it somehow in its twisted way, it made all the sense in the world. It didn’t alter me for my knowledge of it. It didn’t even begin to change the severity my feelings for you.” She tells him. Reaching up and stroking along the handsome plain jaw.

Wholly, un-confinably, remarkably handsome.

“My love-“ He begins warmly. “If I had to, I would throw you over my shoulder to carry you up the aisle to marry me. Even if I had to tear you from your bed and steal you away in the dark of night to be mine. I would have done it. Because this, what we share, it cannot and will never be undone. Can never be ignored.” He promises her.

“Vampires love more deeply than any mortal longing. What I feel for you, it is not fickle. It will never fade. Never wane. We love each other and that will last for as long as we exist on this earth. I thought I had better edify you with these clear facts about my nature, before we are to be bound in matrimony.” He pledges to her. Declaring his undying devotion to her.

Iris rather wants to swoon into his chest - if she had ever been inclined to be a swooning sort of woman. Instead she just beams. A smile so glad it touches the frosty barren place his dead heart inhabited.

“These last few hours will be such a torture.” She comments seriously. But giddy. So giddy it felt like her sides would split open. And molten happy gold would pour out.

His eyes turn promiscuous. As does his domineering smile.

“I can safely offer you nothing but pleasure once the torture is done.” He filthily promises.

She blushes. He wants to lift her up and devour her in a kiss again. Taste those saccharine sweet lips in an animalistic kiss. He savours holding her instead.

Tomorrow he can let the animal roam free over his delicate dove. Tonight is the last night it must be caged.

“Not long to wait now. The last of my household servants left today. I sent Jomar and Jones off to London to make passage to France. Erland and Kana remain to take us to Scotland with one driver, and the coach.” He tells.

She liked that he’s bringing Erland to their elopement. It’s quite fitting when the creature loves her almost as much as he does.

“Then it’s just us. Riding into the wild of the Highland. Roaming over the Scottish moors, and glens and lochs, as a Lord and his Lady.” He paints a vivid picture for her.

She sighs a smile. “Us, has never sounded so splendid.” And she beams brighter than the sun.

He clutches her close for another kiss before he slips away.

The appointed hour loometh. And Iris won’t sleep a wink for thinking of his sharp smile or those savage eyes.

She eventually dreams. And thinks of kissing his soft plush lips once more. Like kissing pink rose petals.

The next time she will, they’ll be well on their way to being man and wife.

~ ~ 🥀 ~ ~

#kylo ren #kylo ren x oc #vampire au #vampire!kylo #vampirelovestory #very wolves and doves #adam driver #Iris vibes 🕊#Draegan vibes 🥀#Lord Ren vibes 🐺#vampire #demon #ao3 fanfic #more swooning #secret lovers

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merriclo · 11 months ago

Text

OKAY SO RABIES IS A virus transmitted by bodily fluids, most often saliva and blood. while the entire chain would be susceptible to rabies, you’re right in saying that Twilight would be especially susceptible. this is primarily because as a wolf he fights with his jaws. if he bites a rabid animal or person and draws blood, then swallows, he would become infected.

it’s also likely that, as a farmer, he would be painfully aware of rabies. any warm blooded animal can fall victim to rabies (not just dogs and bats) so it’s not a reach to assume he’d know the signs and symptoms and how to deal with it. rabies is one of those viruses that man has known about for centuries. it’s also one of the few that man has always known a decent amount about, including where it came from. mad dog bites man, man goes mad, mad dog and mad man die. it’s pretty easy to follow.

anyways, twilight would probably know he’s infected, or at least be able to string it together once the symptoms surface. all of the Links would probably know, actually, considering the abundance of Keese and how many of them are from more rural areas.

the thing abt rabies is that as soon as you show symptoms, you’re as good as dead. it’s a virus that ravages the mind, destroys the brain and central nervous system. the moment you’re rabid, you’re dead. it has a near 100% mortality rate. i can’t stress enough how dangerous this thing is.

it comes in three stages: the prodromal phase, the excitation phase, and the paralytic phase. if you want to find in depth information on each phase (like many symptoms, what happens, etc.) then here’s a link to that.

what primarily happens, though, this that they get symptoms similar to the flu, they undergo personality changes, they are likely to become mad, they experience extreme difficulty moving and using their muscles, become paralyzed, and eventually die (most often due to asphyxiation from the diaphragm paralyzing and preventing breathing.)

death by rabies is horrific, and for centuries the most humane way to treat it was either suicide or a backyard murder. there were attempts to treat it before Louis Pasteur created the vaccine, but they were rudimentary and rarely worked. it wouldn’t be insane to imagine that maybe the sheikah had created a vaccine, or that the witches had a potion to cure it. hell, you could even make a loz equivalent of Louis Pasteur and put him in Hytopia!! make twilight the first ever patient under the rabies vaccine instead of that little boy who was tragically mauled.

but, again, once you show symptoms, you are dead. the “good” thing is that rabies can have a long incubation period, allowing time to prevent any damage.

so would twilight be able to survive rabies? maybe, depending on the world building in the fic. would it be fun? absolutely not!! the process of preventing rabies fucking sucks!!! and the terror that comes with an encounter with a rabid animal cannot be understated.

so uh yeah i hope that kind of helps a little bit. if you want more resources or have any questions please please please ask i love talking about this sort of thing. for some damn reason rabies and other prominent diseases and viruses throughout history are some of my favorite things to research, so if i don’t already know the answer i will be very willing to find it <3

Guys I’m not a writer but I do know writing fics take motivation but I have noticed a max or twilight angst fics which makes me very sad because twilight is such a good boy he deserves to feel a emptiness in his chest that comes closer and closer until he starts crying too and I have had a little thought come to me after I watched the new hunger games movie and it’s that Twilight could get rabies easily (maybe idk I’m not a biologist or whatever it’s called) AND I JUST WANNA KNOW WHAT WOULD HAPPEN LIKE HOW THE WHOLE CHAIN WOULD REACT BECAUSE GODAMN TWILIGHT U CAN TAKE A LOT BUT CAN U TAKE RABIES???

#i love thg movie but i have beef w how they showed rabies #don’t get me wrong they did well but it does not act that fast. it’s slow and terrible #it’s not slow slow like tuberculosis. but it ain’t over a few days lmao #again i love talking abt rabies this was so fun #sorry for any typos or grammar issues lmao #ALSO when killing a rabid animal never go for the brain in order to prevent accidental contamination via brain matter #the emptiness in his chest tracks tho bc rabies does cause an impending sense of doom

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bigboomboi · 5 years ago

Text

Anchor- Bakugo X Reader

Words: 3431

Warnings: Cursing and slight mention of blood

A snarl echoed through the training field and Y/N swiped at Momo, who easily avoided her claws. Y/N ducked under Momo’s staff, and punched her in the chest, sending her to the ground. Momo grunted, but didn’t miss a beat and tripped her attacker, taking her to the ground as well.

Growling, Y/N easily caught the staff aimed for her face, using it to flip the creative quirked girl over into the ground before trying to stand herself. But again, Momo was quick, kicking Y/N in the back, launching her through the dirt.

Momo stood and froze, noting Y/N’s adopted stance. Crouched on all fours, teeth sharpening further than they already were, a stripped tail sprouting. Momo hesitated her advance on Y/N as her eyes flashed, pupils thinning. Momo instantly reached for the blow dart, out of habit and fear.

But thankfully, Y/N shook her head, struggling to hold back her transformation. She slowly took several deep breaths before glaring at Momo again before charging her. Momo tightened her grip on her staff, seeing that Y/N stayed human.

Dodging the swing of the metal bar, Y/N slashed at Momo again, her attacks much more frantic than before. She had to exert the unused aggravation somehow. So when Momo created a pair of restraints and snagged Y/N’s hands, Y/N simply vaulted the girl and yanked her handcuffs into Momo’s neck to choke her. To which she responded by reaching back doing the same thing with her own weapon.

The girls stood, back to back, awkwardly choking each other out for several moments before the need to shift returned. Much stronger than the first time. Panicking, Y/N backflipped over Momo again and tried to pull away from the tangle of limbs they were.

Her opponent noted the panic in Y/N’s eyes and released her, to kick her again. Sending her across the field before jumping back herself, giving Y/N space. And once again, Y/N stayed crouched, growling and panting hard. She was going to shift, she could feel it. Her grip on her form was slipping, so she did the best thing at the time.

She slammed her head into the ground.

“Y/N!” Momo gasped, holding herself back from moving to check on her at least until Y/N collapsed to the ground, effectively ending the match.

In mere moments the class surrounded the concussed student. “You can’t knock yourself out, everytime you almost fully shift, Y/N….” Aizawa muttered, rolling his eyes.

Y/N groaned, and closed her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Give me a better option…”

“Figure out how to control your full shift.” Aizawa advised her.

"But, I can’t. I actually can’t.” She whimpered as Momo helped her up. “I get tranquilized everytime I full shift.”

Her quirk was an animal transformation, to be more specific she shifts into the world’s deadliest big cat. A Bengal Tiger. Coming from a family of shapeshifters, she was the only one with the quirk that couldn’t control her full shift.

“Fine, then in addition to the homework tonight. Brainstorm on some ways to keep a whole of your mind when you use your quirk.” Aizawa ordered, before dismissing the class. “Get to the nurse’s office.”

Later, back at the dorms Uraraka gently prodded, the bruises on Y/N’s cheeks with a cool towel. Despite the fact that Recovery girl fixed her broken nose and slight concussion, she advised Y/N to allow her bruises to heal naturally, for she far too exhausted to take in anymore accelerated healing. Y/N hissed and jerked away from her friend’s fingers when she poked a particularly sore bruise.

“Okay, what if you wear a shock collar that tases you bv every few minutes.” Denki offered.

“She’s not actually an animal!” Mina punched his arm.

“Technically … She is…”

Somehow her extra homework turned into a dorm discussion, when they all gathered in the living room to hangout. As much as Y/N appreciated the help, they were getting nowhere. But the ideas they came up with were surprisingly creative. A safe word, a whistle, netting her until she calmed down. Really, even the shock collar wasn’t a bad idea.

“We could just spray you with water?” Kirishima commented. “Like what people do when their cats are being bad.”

“Yes, Kirishima. Let’s spray the rabid, Bengal Tiger with water and see if you don’t get mauled.” Y/N grumbled.

“She’s not some stupid house cat. She’s a deadly Tiger that can’t control herself.” Bakugo grumbled from next to her.

“Yes, thank you for the reminder, Mr. Anger Issues and Superiority Complex.” Y/N huffed, trying to move away from Uraraka’s caring hands.

“At least I don’t break my own nose to avoid mauling my friends.” He glared at her.

“Don’t worry, when you’re in the ring, I won’t.” She snapped back.

His hand crackled at the threat. “You wouldn’t get close to me, shitty woman.”

“Let’s see about that.” She snarled, her teeth elongating. Despite the slight crush she harbored for him, he was still an ass and she wouldn’t let him get away with talking down to her.

“O-okay! We should get back to finding a way to control yourself.” Midoriya panicked.

“Do whatever, I don’t give a fuck about it.” Bakugo broke eye contact and stood off the couch.

“Asshole.” Y/N mumbled, glaring while he stomped off. “But anyway. Any more ideas? Or is the shock collar the best thing we got?”

After a moment of silence, Kirishima perked up again. “What about an anchor or something. Like, from that american show with the werewolf dude and his nerdy sidekick.”

“Are you talking about Teen Wolf? Where he dated a chick that hunted his kind?” Jiro raised an eyebrow.

“Uh, yeah. That.” He scratched the back of his neck. “But think about it. In the show, the werewolves needed an anchor to keep a hold of themselves. To keep them grounded.Like the Scott guy had his girlfriend as his anchor.”

“First off… She dumped him. Second… I don’t have a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend.” Y/N sighed.

“Do you want one?” Denki asked hopeful only to be nailed in the face by a couch pillow.

“Okay, yes, she did break up with him, but then he became his own anchor.” Kirishima added. “Remember yourself, who you are, where you are, why you’re here. Stuff like that. Or another person, a family member, Mina. Someone or something that means more to you than anything else.”

“An anchor…” She chewed her lip. What the fuck was her anchor going to be.

“Today, Y/N. Bakugo.” Aizawa matched up. “This time. I will be the only one with a tranq. Y/N you are to fully shift before the match is over.”

Y/N nodded, before turning to Mina, who gently adjusted the collar around Y/N’s neck. “Alright, Denki, remember only three time every minute if I’m wild, okay. Please don’t fry my brain.”

“Got it.” He nodded.

Y/N took a deep breath and stepped out on the field, standing across from Bakugo. He looked pointedly at her collar and scoffed at the fact that she actually went with the idea of it. His palms crackled and she activated her quirk partially, nails and teeth sharpening and amping her speed.

“Come on kitty, kitty, kitty.” He taunted before charging her.

She easily dodged his blasts, trying her best to find an opening, before he backed her into a corner. Snarling, she grabbed an explosive hand, aimed for her face and yanked him close only to thrust her foot into his chest. She smirked and followed his falling figure.

He grunted when he landed, but still managed to avoid her pounce. As he rolled over, he barely managed to slam his crackling palm into her side. Sending her rolling and gasping.

“Oi, I thought you were gonna let me have it, stupid cat.” He mocked.

“I’m just waiting for you to show me a reason to use my full quirk.” Y/N shrugged, hiding the pain in her ribs.

He growled and charged her again, this time she stood her ground, blocking his blows to the best of her ability. She easily ducked under his first and punch him in the stomach, before twisting to kick his side, pushing him to the ground, but he just swiped her legs from under her as he fell.

He was quick to pin her to the ground, sitting on her, and start slamming his exploding fists next to her head as she dodged. She growled, her want to shift pounding at the back of her skull. But she forced it down, knowing he was just toying with her, trying to piss her off enough to shift. She reached up and grabbed his collar and yanked his forehead into hers.

He groaned, dizzy, from the sudden head trauma, giving her an easy window to flip their position. She mimicked his own attack from moments before, but instead actually connected her fists to his jaw. Several hits in, Bakugo snagged her arm and flipped them again, twisting her arm out straight behind her back.

She cried out, and struggled against his grip but he only pulled tighter. Y/N panicked, he was going to break her arm if she didn’t pull out and the thought forced her fight or flight to kick in. She was shifting and needed to get him off.

Turning her head she glared at the foot next to her head and bit down on his calf muscle. He cursed, relinquishing some of his pull on her arm. She took the opportunity to free herself, rolling over, definitely straining the joint in her shoulder and using that same arm to push him into the dirt before scrambling to put a few feet in between them.

Like before with Momo, Bakugo watched Y/N crouch and struggle to control herself. As did the class, cheering for her to shift. She closed her eyes to steady her breathing as bones started to crack. Maybe if she transformed slowly she’d keep a hold.

Bakugo took his chance while she shifted and rushed her, palms popping.

A large paw extended claws forced him to duck, but not quick enough as a larger than normal Bengal Tiger pinned him to the ground. She snarled at him, warningly and opened her mouth to bite him, but she jerked as a sharp jolt was sent through her neck.

Bakugo was quick to thrust his foot into her chest, and roll away from her. She was already struggling to keep a hold of her mind, he saw the wild flicker in her eyes.

“Y/N, remember to control it. Not let it control you.” Aizawa called to her, but she only turned to growl at him. She was completely gone already, and the shocks in her neck were only pissing her off.

She crouched and narrowed in on Bakugo before pouncing. Even with several feet between them, he barely managed to dodge her claws. She spun sharply to follow his dodge and leaped to bite him. He cursed and punched her with an exploding fist. She yelped and rolled through the dirt, her shock collar falling off, destroyed from his blast.

Now there was nothing to pull her back to reality. All that was running through her head was to attack. And she couldn’t help the idea, her conscience was slowly drowning in the instinct to hurt him. She growled at herself and tried to shake her mind clear but it didn’t help, nothing helped.

She mentally felt faint, and seemed to be blacking out. Though she felt her body rush forwards and attack Bakugo, she couldn’t focus on the fact that she drew blood, tearing through his hero suit. Just the suffocation of her shift.

She was fading…

Further…

And further…

“Shit! Y/N, stop fucking biting the gauntlet!”

Blinking, she felt like an alarm went off as Bakugo shouted at her. She blinked, eyes locking on to his panicked ones. He struggled a bit more before he noticed her growls silenced. He froze looking at her.

“Y/N?” He gambled.

She blinked again, jaw loosening on his arm. She noted the blood on his cheek, an obvious scratch from her claws. Y/N slowly let go of his grenade piece and whimpered looking him over completely. He was bloody and bruised, thanks to her lack of control.

“Stop, stupid cat!” He noticed her backing away and quickly stopped her. “You’re doing it. You’re in control.”

He could clearly see the panic in her eyes, if he let her succumb to the overwhelming emotion, she’d lose herself again and he knew that. She whimpered when he reached out to her and he paused. Y/N heard a shout from behind her, it was only their attempts to call out to her conscience, and she whimpered shaking her head. Her grasp slipping again.

Bakugo sighed and grabbed her, his fingers deep in her fur. “Relax, Kitten. Look at me and only me.”

She did as she was told and tried to ignore the calls from the class. “See, you’re doing fine. You feel this?” She wasn’t sure if he meant his comforting fingers petting her or the feeling of control she had, but she jerked her head yes. “Remember it. Anytime you shift, okay? Don’t panic or you’ll lose it.”

She whined, licking apologetically at her bit mark on his arm. He pushed her face away, a slight pink colour tainting his cheeks. She licked and nipped at him playfully, feeling more comfortable now.

“Stop licking me, shitty woman!” He kept pushing away at her snout while she tried to lick his wounds. She ignored his protests and continued, now that she had better control, her emotions and feelings were multiplied and she couldn’t help but let them bubble over. Disguising her kisses as simultaneously apologizing and thanking him.

Suddenly Y/N yelped and glared at her side, where the tranquil dart stuck her. Bakugo followed her gazed and cursed, reaching to yank it out but it was too late. She’d already collapsed into his lap, revealing Aizawa making his way to them.

“What the hell was that for?” Bakugo shouted, before returning his attention to the tiger whimpering in his lap. “Shit, Kitten.”

“She wasn’t in control.” He answered, easily.

“Yes, she was.” Bakugo sighed as she passed out. “She had control…”

It had been a week since her match with Bakugo and Y/N had managed to avoid all contact with him since. No matter how hard he tried, she always seemed to slip out of his fingers. Even their friends started trying to trap her into seeing him.

It wasn’t that she was scared or anything, she just didn’t know what to do. She had the intense urge to touch him in someway, anyway. Holding his hand, hugging him… kissing him. But she knew that wouldn’t end well if she acted on her feelings.

“Y/N, babes, it’s us. We’ve brought dinner.” Urakaka’s voice called through her door.

Y/N sighed and stepped to the door. “You’re not trying to trick me again are you, cause I will bite.”

A moment of silence answered her before an actual voice did. “No, Y/N. It’s just us.”

Slowly, she opened the door to see her friends. She stepped aside to let them in and accept the curry Urakaka offered. They all sat and contemplated a way to start the conversation they’d all been putting off.

Finally, “What the fuck happened with Bakugo?” Mina yelped, tired of the pressure in the room.

“Nothing.” Y/N shrugged, pushing her food around on her plate. “I lost control and hurt him, like I always do.”

“He seems to think differently.” Jiro hummed.

“Yeah, well he was probably delirious from me slamming his head on the ground.” Y/N said.

Urakaka huffed. “Why are you trying to ignore the fact that he helped you control yourself?”

“Because, now I can’t shift without the thought of him in my head. If I try to think of anything other it will always revert back to him.” She snapped. “And it’s not just him! It’s wanting him. It’s my feelings for him and now I’m fucking scared to talk to him because when I fucking see him and want to run into his arms becuase I- fuck.”

“Because what, Y/N. You gotta figure this out, because at this point, we’re going to tie you up, put you in a box and give you to him like a present.” Mina threatened.

“That sounds kinky, ribbit.” Tsu teased.

“Can’t I just avoid him forever.” Y/N whined.

“No!” They all quipped.

Hours later, once Y/N was sure everyone had gone to bed she slipped down to the kitchen. She didn’t finish her dinner, but that didn’t mean she’d waste it, she’d just take it for lunch so she could run straight to her hiding spot of the day. But first she had to find her bento.

Muttering quietly, she checked the lower cabinets, where they normally were placed, but found the area empty. She opened and closed each cabinet until she found them. On the very top shelf.

Y/N grunted stretching to try and reach the lunch boxes, even though it was futile. She gave up and was about to climb the counter, knowing there was no one around to stop her- except the warm hand on her back. She froze, the light scent of warm caramel and a strong chest pinned her before her bento was placed in front of her.

For a long moment, they stayed frozen. While he hoped she’d turn and look at him, she was trying to will him to disappear. While she felt wonderfully serene with him so close, she needed him to leave. She wasn’t ready to face him yet. Not that she thought she’d ever be.

“Would you fucking look at me already?” Bakugo urged. Y/N shook her head, frantically, not trusting her voice.

“I’m not mad, if that’s what you’re worried about, idiot.” Again she shook her head.

“Then, for the love of fuck! Why are you avoiding me, shitty woman?” He snapped.

“Because I’m scared!” She admitted finally turning to face him.

“Like I said, I’m not mad at you.” He tried again.

“That’s not it, I’m just scared!” She glared at him.

“Scare of what, Y/N?”

She opened her mouth to answer, but chickened out and pressed her lips together looking away. As panicked as she was, his proximity still calmed her. Tears welled in her eyes, not knowing what to do with her feelings. So she did what was best at the time; she slammed her head into his chest.

“Oi!” He grunted, ready to snap at her again, but paused when she mumbled something into his chest. “I can’t understand you into you whisper into my shirt, stupid.”

Taking a shaky breath, she spoke again, louder this time. “You’re my anchor.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, confused. “I’m your what?”

“You’re… ‘Someone that means more to you than anything else.’ An anchor, keeping me grounded, when I shift.” She explained softly.

Bakugo paused for a minute, thinking carefully of what to say next as to not scare you away. “Why me?”

“Because… I…” Y/N stopped and tried her best to build up the strength to say it.

“Kitten,” He tugged her chin up to look her in the eyes before repeating her question. “Why me?”

As cliche as it sounded, she couldn’t hide it or lie about it. There was nothing she could do about it. “Because I’m in love with you and I’m scared because I don’t know what I’ll do when you leave.”

She closed her eyes, bracing for his laugh. For rejection. Y/N felt his hand squeeze her hip and his nose bumped into her gently. She took a deep breath as he pressed her into the counter before his lips brushed over hers fleetingly.

“Who said I was going to leave?”

Bonus:

Y/N and Bakugo laid cuddle together on the couch, watching a movie. Y/N was slowly dozing off, thanks to the warm fingers rubbing her back. At least she was until-

“I thought you said you didn’t want a boyfriend?” Denki pouted at the couple on the couch.

This time Bakugo nailed him in the face with the couch pillow. “Fuck off, Sparky.”

#mha bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bnha fanfiction #bnha #bnha bakugou #bakugo x reader #reader insert #x reader #i love denki #but its fine #bakugo can have this spotlight #mina ashido #denki kaminari #kirishima eijirou #urakara ochako #bnha jirou #bnha momo #bnha tsuyu

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maxineswritingcenter · 5 years ago

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Bray Road - Fox Mulder x reader

So I have definitely been binge watching the X-Files and season one Fox? Oh what a babe. Sarcastic and has a problem with authority, WOO! Let go, kids! Using they/them pronouns.

“Oh he can’t be that bad.” (Y/N) brushed off their coworker’s words. Agent Jamison was referring to Special Agent Fox Mulder. An Oxford graduate, graduate with honors from the academy, and an excellent profiler.

"He’s so bad that he turned Dana Scully- The Dana Scully, top of our class Dana Scully into one of his followers.“ He said.

(Y/N) rolled their eyes, "I wasn’t aware we were in the presence of Christ himself, Jamison.” Chief Blevins assigned Scully to watch over Mulder and shut the X Files down. However, that doesn’t seem to be the case. “Make’s you wonder.” They muttered to themselves.

"Just don’t get spooky on me, alright?“ Jamison stopped just short of the annex that held the X Files and the agent inside. They knocked on the door.

“Nobody’s home!” A voice called from inside.

(Y/N) made their way inside, closing the door behind them. Sitting at a desk, piled high with files was a man with brown scruffy hair and bright green eyes. The next thing they noticed with the ufo poster on the wall with bold black letters saying I want to Believe. They weren't kidding about this guy.

"Special agent Mulder, my name is (Y/N)(Y/L/N). I'm your temporary partner while agent Scully undergoes treatment." They smiled. Agent Mulder looking up at them over his glasses, shook his head.

"I only work with Scully, so tell whoever sent you here that if they're trying to spy on me they should get a little more creative." He went back to reading his file.

They shook their head, "AD Skinner said you would react like this."

That seemed to get his attention, "Skinner sent you?" He said the name like he was recalling an old friend. It was no secret that Assistant director Skinner had favorites, whether he liked it or not.

"Yes, he said we would get along." They smiled.

"And why's that?" There was a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Because I believe I have a case that fits your criteria.”

After setting up the photo projector, They began their presentation.

“In nineteen-thirty six on a rural road outside of Elkhorn, Wisconsin there were sightings of a creature that has been described as a bear or wolf-like creature that stood up to seven feet tall on its hindlegs, a brown or grey color. Similar sightings appear through the years and also into neighboring Michigan, calling it the Michigan Dog man. In Wisconsin, however, they refer to as the Beast of Bray Road, the namesake of the road where it was first sighted.” They took a deep breathe before continuing, “In nineteen-seventy four, a couple and their child were driving down the road after a late night movie when they hit something on the road. They stop, husband gets out and sees what it was. The wife watches him get dragged away. She gets out of the car, gets dragged away. The kid was found the next day a police cruiser passing through the area.The first kill associated with the beast.”

“Alright, where’s this going?” Agent Mulder asked. (Y/N) clicked the remote of the projector showing photos of the crime scene photos from the most recent crime.

“Yesterday evening, the beast seems to have attacked again except this time in broad daylight. A group of college students were drinking and trying to find the beast when it seems that the beast found them. In the pieces they could find, it appears that they were mauled by a very large animal. The local fish and wildlife is puzzeled and local PD has no idea how to handle the deaths. The populous is in a uproar.”

“And rightfully so.” He said, standing from his chair where he had been reading the file that (Y/N) had put together.

“Well, looks like we’re going to Wisconsin, Agent (Y/L/N).” He closed the file, “I’ll go get us travel papers.” When he left the room, they took a deep breathe. Filled with a new hope for the case and getting justice.

After a plane ride and renting a car, the agents began the long drive towards the crime scene. As they got closer, Mulder couldn’t help but notice that his partner was fiddling with their hands nervously and staring out the window like they were in their own little world.

“Everything alright, (Y/L/N)?” This startled them out of their trace.

“Oh! Uh, yeah. Fine.” They said, giving Mulder a soft smile.

Mulder nodded, “Is this your first xfile?”

They looked at him for a moment and then nodded, “Yeah.” They were relieved.

“If it makes you feel better, I’ve been working these cases for years now, agent Scully as well, and everything turned out alright. We find the evidence, catch whatever this is.”

(Y/N) laughed it off, “You’re right. It’s probably just a rabid bear anyway.” They reasoned.

“I don’t know about that. Globally, there are only forty bear attacks per year, only eleven of those attacks happen in North America.” He paused, “If you’re so nervous about this case then why did you take the assignment. How did you even hear about it?”

(Y/N) gulped, “Friend of mine works in wildlife service, he heard it through the grapevine. He told me about the deaths before it. I put it together and brought it to the attention of the Assistant Director and he told me to come to you. That’s all.” They knew that Mulder had reason to be suspect because of their behavior. But he only nodded and the rest of the drive was silent.

They made it to the crime scene that afternoon, meeting with the sheriff outside the yellow crime scene tape. The agents made their way towards the cop.

“Can I help you folks?” The sheriff asked.

“Agents Mulder and (Y/L/N),” They brought out their badges. showing the cop.

“No disrespect, agents, but we didn’t call in the feds.” The sheriff said.

“Yes, sir, we were made aware of the situation by fish and wildlife.” (Y/N) spoke up.

“Well, you can ask the kid at the hospital what he saw and he’ll tell you what it was.” The sheriff shrugged.

“There was a survivor?” Mulder asked.

“Yes, sir. We found him a little ways down the road. He was barely alive when we found him.”

“Can you show me where?” (Y/N) asked, reaching into the file in their hand. The sheriff led the two agents to the scene where the boy had been found. It was also marked off with yellow tape.

Mulder looked over their shoulder as (Y/N) held up a black and white photograph.

“What is it?” he asked. It was a moment before they spoke.

“This is the exact spot where the car was found.” A sense of dread passed over them.

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

Alright! So I have found that there is a lack of Fox Mulder fics which is a damn shame. I’m adding to the few. Of these include some of the best fics I’ve ever read. I’m excited for this story, I hope you are too!

Read part 2 here!

Reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated!

Please shoot me a message if you would like to be tagged in the series!

#the x files #xfiles #fox mulder x reader #fox mulder

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florbelles · 4 years ago

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All evens for Wren’s better half? Thank you bby! 😘😘

thank you lovely, here’s installment one! 💋

nsfw. tw sadism, torture, murder, lyra-typical content ( there’s a reason this is going up at dead hours )

note that i’ve used “husband” where both john & wes are applicable, names where it’s specific to one (1) of the ferretbrooks men

02. do they have any kinks or fetishes?

honey what doesn’t she have

in all seriousness, lyra’s game for just about anything, but she’s been around enough that it holds little mystique or taboo appeal for her; she’s bored with most of it.

having said that, i don’t say lyra has sadomasochistic tendencies hyperbolically; she absolutely gets off on watching john make sinners confess, hunting them through the woods, carving them up; she’s excited by their screams; she’s excited by the adrenaline rush of combat, her own blood in her mouth, the way her body vibrates after a kill or preparing the unworthy for the judge chambers or a fight. she absolutely has a blood kink; she won’t engage in knife play with her partners, she finds no enjoyment in torturing someone she loves ( even without love, bdsm situations do nothing for her, even in a fully consensual/safe context; probably partly because it’s engaged with willingly; there’s no thrill there, there are no true stakes, it feels like dull roleplay ), but she does love to play with knives; she likes john best with blood on his hands. ( no, i’m not speaking figuratively, she has quite literally stopped by the confession chamber to request his presence in his office immediately, “do not wash your hands!”, even he gets mildly concerned sometimes )

she’s both exhibitionistic and voyeuristic, though those aren’t especially applicable to her sex life ( with the obvious exception of the perpetually victimized shaggy who has walked in on the minicultists and their verse-dependent third in virtually every sexual contortion that is physically possible and some he had not previously realized were; there have also been some unfortunate scenes witnessed by sinners in the judge and confession chambers but they generally have bigger problems and/or have just had their eyeballs removed by lyra, a generous queen ) outside of watching or showing off for her partners; no lights off in this house, she wants to see everything.

on a less horrifying note, this isn’t really kinky/fetish-y, but she Is absolutely feral in bed; she likes hair yanking, marking ( teeth/nails/bruises/variety pack ), biting/scratching ( her claws are a fucking menace, rip her partners’ chest/back/neck; shoutout to the first seed family meeting after lyra’s arrival in hope county and joseph was like “hello john have you learned anything about the fairbanks woman also why is your neck bleeding why are you holding a blood-soaked cloth to your neck” and john had to be like “i was mauled by a rabid animal” )

anything done to her neck is a go for her, she likes to be strangled/bitten/kissed there.

04. what is their favourite position?

if she’s on top, in her partner’s lap facing them; generally she prefers to be tossed around a bit/held down or taken from behind ( especially if she’s caught feelings and doesn’t want to deal with intense Eye Contact because sometimes a bitch just wants to get absolutely fucking railed without dealing with Emotions ). she’s not picky, though, she likes variety.

06. have they had any one night stands?

the vast majority of her sexual partners were one night stands, and she’s had many, many sexual partners. given that a good deal of them were targets she robbed, round two wasn’t usually in the cards.

08. Have they had sex in a public place?

yes, many times ( though, with the ranch staff, arguably every place is public to some extent; rip to shaggy ). in one particularly unfortunate incident not long after she came to hope county an unlucky local stumbled upon her and john going at it on the riverbank. rip to him. she stabbed him in the throat. she panicked. the adrenaline was already high. don’t @ her. ( john just watched like wOw NiCe GoInG WrAtH. )

in any case, the answer is yes; she likes to fuck whenever and wherever the mood strikes, and if that’s on the porch of the spread eagle, that’s just the way it is.

10. what does their favourite sexy underwear (to wear) look like?

white lace and barely there, like all of her lingerie.

12. is there anybody right now they’d like to have sex with?

her husband/spouse(s). lyra’s unused to not getting what she wants; she wouldn’t be married if they weren’t what she wanted.

14. do they like receiving oral?

absolutely; that pussy is platinum and she knows it. she likes to show off. ( she prefers being held down for it than face-sitting, but she will not object to either ).

16. what is a song they’d listen to during hard/rough/kinky sex?

here!

( honestly, she doesn’t need or really care for music during sex, she’s loud enough as it is )

18. are they into roleplay or dress-up during sex?

not even slightly. she’s done it, she’s not unwilling, but it’s not something she would ever personally seek out or suggest.

20. if they could have sex with anyone, living or dead, who would it be?

ah, lucky it specified “or dead!” in canon lyra never has sex again after john’s death; that part of her dies completely with him. she doesn’t even touch herself; she misses him enough without the reminder. i already gave the more general answer to the question above; lyra doesn’t have a hit list, she’s used to being able to fuck whoever she’d like and has never taken to fantasizing.

22. do they/would they use sex toys?

lyra’s only use for sex toys is railing her husband; she’d much rather have him inside her.

that’s universally applicable, and it always has been; they don’t do anything for her. that includes with other women or any partner with a vagina, she’d much rather get good head.

24. would they have sex with their best friend?

given that her best friend she isn’t married to is her sister-in-law, that’s a hard no.

26. what is something that will never fail to get them horny?

i covered this pretty thoroughly in the kinks/fetishes section most of which probably could have just gone here; setting sinners free, watching john flaying people alive, getting hunted through the woods by wes, hunting wes through the woods, any other form of physical exertion/endangerment. nothing gets her wetter than getting her partners off, though, which sounds more generous than it is; she just likes to watch them/hear the sounds they make.

( i’ll talk more about her normal human/softer/romantic lovemaking moods in the second installment and link it here, i’m embracing this as the gremlin chapter )

28. what is their favourite body part on the opposite sex?

thighs, hands, back, throat, chest.

30. do they watch porn/read dirty magazines?

sure, but she’d much prefer to watch herself get railed ( she may or may not abuse the cameras in the bunker for this very purpose regularly. ) otherwise she mostly likes to watch john’s confession tapes, those unfortunately really do it for her.

#yikes!#oc: lyra fairbanks #nsft #answered #nightwingshero

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reynesofcastamere · 4 years ago

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Jagged Crowns(1/2)[β]

(A/N: I had a bit of an internal debate as to whether I should keep writing while...Well, some parts of our world are in a rapid spiral towards a fascist dystopian nightmare due to centuries of institutionalized racism, ignorance, and hair-trigger violence, among other things. I understand that I will never fully comprehend what POC have suffered, because the system has been rigged in my favour since before I was born. There is much and more that can and has been said on the subject, but to summarize: It is not my intention to further harmful ideas/depictions or to hurt people via this self-indulgent outlet. If I have done so(and not given appropriate warnings), please do not hesitate to inform me so that I may correct this. That said, warnings for: gore, violence, death, intrusive thoughts, mental breakdown/hallucinations, and suicidal ideation. The prompt for this was ‘Ahsoka helping Maul through his own struggles, since he’s pretty much on the verge of insanity at all times.’ Unbeta’d.)

In the end, there is no need for a chosen one. No bright, wide-eyed youth to take up a burning sword and the incalculable burden of ridding the galaxy of an oppressive evil. The reality turns out to be less of a legend and more of a horror story.

The Royal Palace is littered with the dead and dying, but there is only one that matters. Sidious is still immensely powerful, but his body has grown old and slow, and there are only so many guards he can sacrifice to protect himself. Overcoming his Force lightning, preventing bones and organs from being crushed, protecting their minds from invasion and violation: That is much harder. But finally, finally Maul strikes off the Emperor’s head as Ahsoka’s twin ‘sabres pierce his shriveled, black heart. She steps back. He keeps going, slicing and hacking until the throne is in pieces, the floor is a cross-hatch of burning lines, and what was once an Emperor is nothing more than a pile of charred meat and cloth.

“Is this...Am I free? No, this was too easy. Master always has a contingency plan.” He does not even realize he is voicing these thoughts, too occupied with searching the Force for something, any trace of Sidious’s presence. Foolish child. You thought you could defeat ME? I know your every pitiful thought, every scheme you concocted while you wriggled, a blind maggot encased in filth. “Be silent.” Maul snarls, fingertips coiled around his anterior horns, palms pressed into his eyelids. “Focus. Focus. Search for him, he cannot hide from us.” There is another voice, outside his head, but he cannot hear it. He has to know. Yet despite the venomous hiss that tries to steal away his concentration, there is...nothing. The Dark Side is empty of even the barest wisp of his Master. “Gone. Gone at last. Finally I have achieved Bane’s will...” He laughs, long and erratically pitched. Not a comforting sound, or even a sane one. Wait. There is something. He uncovers his eyes and re-opens them. Someone before him, unlit ‘sabres in hand. Another rival apprentice. Another test. “Have I not done enough to prove myself?” Maul whispers, disbelieving and enraged all at once. No. You must destroy all who would stand in your way if you wish to claim my power. Prove that you are worthy and strike them down! “Yes, my Master.” He had dropped his sabrestaff before -careless, stupid, he could have been killed-, but it leaps eagerly into his hand and activates as he begins his assault. He cannot seem to get a clear picture of his opponent, their form shadowed and not entirely solid around the edges. He sees their weapons clearly enough, though, especially when they clash with his own. His rival is on the defensive, parrying his strikes but not counterattacking. He cannot hear their words past the blood rushing in his ears, infuriated by this insult. Is he so weak that they do not even think him worth the effort of assaulting?! Maul drives them back, seeking to disarm, to maim, to kill, but he cannot connect. He resorts to yanking their legs out from under them with the Force, lips curled in a feral snarl as he raises his sabrestaff for the final blow...Then the Light bursts into his mind with the force of a battering ram, and he can feel-These thoughts, this presence, he knows it-Mine, this warmth is mine, cast from the star forever out of my reach. Ahsoka Tano looks up at him, eyes wide from exertion and fear. “Maul. Please, stop.” His legs give out from under him, weapon deactivated and slipping from his suddenly-nerveless fingers. He does not know how long it takes for her to come to him. Seconds, or perhaps years, her hands circling his face as their lips meet. He pulls her close, fervent and desperate in his passion. Yes. This is fitting. One last time, before the end. “You must kill me.” A whisper when they part for air, watching her blink in confusion. “What are you talking about?” “I have never fought for your hope of a restored Republic. You know this. You have prepared for it. Sidious is dead and I will inevitably take control of his Empire. Unless you stop me.” “I don’t have to murder you to accomplish that.” “Ah, so you are content to truss me up like a rabid animal and let your superiors toss me in a cage or cut off my head. How noble.” “No.” “Why? Because you believe that they will not take the opportunity to rid themselves of a long-standing nuisance? Or that they will simply leave me in peace because our goals aligned temporarily?” He summons her shoto to his right hand, snarling in frustration as he presses it to her left. “You are neither sentimental or naive, Ahsoka Tano. Do not hesitate.” For a moment, it seems as if she will go through with it. As if white light and the deep blue of her eyes will be the last things he sees. It is not the nature of the Sith, to surrender to death’s embrace so readily. But Maul has...never been a true Sith, and he is so very tired. The voices in his head are blessedly silent, yet it is only a temporary reprieve. Without purpose, without vengeance or ambition, he will lose himself again. “Stop running, Maul.” Her voice is firm, and oh, she burns bright enough to blind him, but he cannot tear his eyes away. Ahsoka takes her weapon from him, sets it down, and entwines their fingers instead. “You’re right. I know who you are and what you can do. I also know you’re capable of more than that.” He cannot breathe. What has she done, to make him feel this way? That there might be hope of being...something other than this? “Did you really think I didn’t notice all these years? The small acts of compassion and honour...Palpatine didn’t rip those away from you.” She is so warm, so willing to offer up these things he has blatantly denied himself and others. “A foolish dream.” Maul rebuts, but there is no real strength behind it. His left arm holds her more tightly, both for emotional and practical purposes. He is not certain how much longer he can remain even partially upright. “It doesn’t have to be. Join me.” Ahsoka offers. “There’s still Vader, Thrawn, and a whole mess of other Imperials to defeat or force surrender from. But after...We can try to build something of our own.” Her right thumb lightly brushes over his cheek. “Won’t be easy, but it’s a chance for both of us to try something different.” “You will regret this decision. Soon.” He points out dryly. There is only so much optimism he is willing to endure, even in this state. She only laughs. “And you haven’t driven me insane. Yet. I don’t expect either one of us to be perfect at this from the start. Just to try.” Her hand curves down and around, lightly dragging her nails up his nape and eliciting a low rumble from him. “Aren’t you going to give me your answer?” Her smile cements the fact that she is utterly devious beneath her relatively-harmless exterior and he will get her back for this later. “You. Are an unrepentant tease. And I will greatly enjoy administering your punishment.” He growls, both impressed and frustrated by her manipulation. “But I am willing to see whether this insane notion of yours will work.” His agreement brings a smile from her, but not before she rolls her eyes and gives a small, exasperated exhale. “‘Yes’ would have worked fine, you know.” “And since when have I ever passed up the opportunity to frustrate you, my Lady?” “Ass. Mmmmph...”

“Care to rephrase that?”

“No. You are the worst. But I might be persuaded to change my opinion.”

“Let us see if I am up to the challenge, then.”

This is merely the beginning of a very long, hard road. Yet neither one of them will walk it alone, and that makes all the difference.

(A/N:Things I didn’t include in the top note because it was getting a bit wordy: This is set around 5-ish BBY, so Thrawn isn’t a Grand Admiral yet, only an Admiral(or possibly Commander, depending on when his promotion happened). Obviously certain canon events didn’t happen (ie Malachor), and Maul and Ahsoka have been in a sort-of relationship for about a decade at this point. Also, sorry, they didn’t have sex in the throne room. Just makeouts and soul-searching. This is absolutely a starting point. Neither character is ‘cured’ of their various issues/traumas by the end of this installment even if they are being semi-cute and flirty. This is...not what I would consider a realistic way to handle someone being triggered/having a delusional episode, but I digress. *notices that fics that have started with gore or violent imagery have mostly ended in fluff* -_-....Hm...Well, that’s a pattern. Or possibly a problem. Cheers, everyone!)

#maulsoka #so much offscreen murder in this #except for Palpatine #because he is a BastardTM #I've decided to remove the 5-number limit and keep my askbox open for prompts/requests #for the moment #all of you are awesome btw

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vulpinmusings · 4 years ago

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Letters from Buxcord #8 - Werewolves of Buxcord

The title says it all, really.

Samantha,

This one’s going to hit real close to home for you. There are werewolves in Buxcord.

Spring has officially arrived here, heralded by a popular music festival, and this incident occurred on the very day. I didn’t initially plan on attending, but in the days leading up to the festival I had gotten my hands on Simone’s book of magic family secrets. I went at it with too much confidence and not enough preparation, and the “no peeking” spell made the text totally illegible and so disorienting I felt my magic senses fall even more out of sync with the local ley-lines than normal. I eventually decided to attend the music festival to get some fresh air and try to clear my head.

Oh, and Lea has asked me to try and determine once and for all if she’s human or Fey, and help locate her family if the former. I don’t have much to go on with that task, but I couldn’t really say no.

Anyway, on the day of, I overheard a lot of stories about animal maulings being discovered around town, with the general consensus being that some kind of rabid dog was responsible. I didn’t consider it worth my personal attention, but I filed the news away in case something more came of it later.

Which, of course, occurred.

The festival wasn’t going to get started until that evening, but I decided to head over to the park after lunch to poke around for trouble. I wasn’t looking for anything particular, but large gatherings and party scenes can be good places for nefarious things to hide in plain sight. Among the stage crews and other early hangers-out, I noticed a pair of men in very crisp suits and an air of authority, and then spotted Lea wandering around with a look of being hungover on her face. When Lea saw me she came straight over, a mixture of worried and relieved.

Lea recounted her adventure of the previous night after she’d finished her bar hopping. She’d been wandering about looking for a place to crash when she entered an alley and found it full of thrashed garbage cans, broken fencing, and a substance like fresh blood on the ground. She also showed me a name tag she’d found stuck on the fence, bearing the name of Tyler. Lea said that was the name of a bartender who’d failed to show up for his shift.

Now that caught my interest, but before I could ask Lea to take me to the scene, those two sharp-dressed men approached us and identified themselves as agents of the FBI, the interstate police agency of the area. They asked us some questions about the spider-hive-man incident. After trying to tease the reason for the investigation now out of them and getting rebuffed by their strict professionalism, I provided a brief summary of the facts. They took it all in with no sign of finding it unbelievable, and then let us return to the business at hand.

We bumped into Mr. Penn on our way out of the park, and he also took an interest in Lea’s discovery as he’d seen local police investigating more animal maulings near Bayou Boating.

The alley was still a mess when we arrived, and one of the Sheriff’s deputies was checking it out. I prompted Lea to hand over the name tag to the deputy before beginning my own study of the scene. There was definitely blood on the ground, and our search turned up a fair amount of shed black fur and the distinctive claw marks of an active lycanthrope throwing a tantrum and not caring if they leave a clear trail to follow. The trail led us back to the park, where we lost it among the milling crowds.

Penn suggested that Lea fly up and study the crowd from the air to try and locate Tyler, but Lea refused flat-out since it was broad daylight and there were people everywhere. I had to agree with Lea; given the general attitude toward magic in this wold and the unknown disposition of our werewolf quarry, it was best that we try to keep a low profile. Unfortunately, that left us with the unenviable task of trying to spot one man among hundreds while in the midst of the crowds ourselves.

We saw Piper among the people, but she avoided us when Lea tried calling out to her. Lea then tried to pick out the werewolf’s aura and found two suspicious feelings too vague to track down. Penn then noted that Piper had missed her shift at the boat tours that morning, which was out of character for her. That seemed like a suspicious correlation, so we set out to track down Piper.

We caught up to Piper on an isolated path in the woods at the edge of the park, and she tried to get away from us until Piper caught a hold of her wrist, applied some Faerie charm, and got the story out of her. Seems Piper had been bit by a werewolf a few years earlier, the initial transformation had ended in the deaths of her parents, and she’d come to Buxcord seeking a cure. At this point, I stepped in and, without needing to name names, convinced Piper that I knew enough about her condition to be able to help her deal with it properly.

Of course, finding a peaceful pack of werewolves to take charge of her would be ideal, and creating an amulet to help restrain the wolf’s rage a close second, but our time was short and needs must. We took Piper back to her apartment and I fought through my magical malaise to weave strength into the walls and a seal on the door so that she wouldn’t be able to get out and run wild that night.

Returning to the park, we found that the festival was starting up. Time was getting even tighter, and I had to be ready for the possibility that the remaining werewolf wouldn’t be as reasonable as Piper. We needed to get our hands on some weaponizable silver.

Lea recalled hanging out with the festival’s main act earlier in the day and noticing the lead singer wearing a silver necklace, so she went off to work her magic on obtaining that while Penn and I tracked down the FBI agents to gauge their potential usefulness. They didn’t commit to assisting us, but one of them did remind me of how a werewolf’s eyes always reflect light back, even in their human form.

Penn and I spent several minutes discussing potential light sources and how to get our hands on them, until I realized Lea still hadn’t come back with the necklace. I went to look for her, leaving Penn to handle the light situation.

Despite my worries, Lea was in perfect health. She’d just gotten distracted with chatting up the member of Killer Thriller, drinking their beer, and making out with the lead singer. I made my presence known with a few sharp words, and Lea quickly got back on task, using her fey magic to charm Thrax into lending us his necklace. In the conversation that followed, I learned that the band’s groupie, Nightshade, had been missing for quite some time despite being all professionalism earlier in the day. Not wanting to leave anyone unaccounted for, Lea and I headed for the parking lot to check the band’s truck.

While I was fetching Lea, Penn had managed to sneak backstage in between the opening acts switching out. After some consideration, he grabbed a flashlight and proceeded to run out into the audience and quickly but systematically flash every person in the eyes. Naturally, this shenaniganery attracted the attention of festival security, and Penn narrowly escaped being apprehended after running back to the stage and checking Killer Thiller as they were setting up. Penn then slipped away and met up with Lea and me in the parking lot. Quite an impressive performance, I must admit.

So, with all but one person accounted for and cleared, and with the trail from earlier now easier to see, it was clear that we were approaching a large truck containing a werewolf on the verge of full-moon transformation. The truck was closed up when we found it, and we engaged Nightshade in conversation through the shut gate. Lea and I offered assurances and help, but Nightshade’s responses made it clear that she had embraced the monstrous and fully intended to cause mayhem at the festival. Still hoping for a peaceful resolution, I bespelled the truck’s gate to be immovable so that Nightshade would be locked up and harmless until morning, at which point I intended to turn her over to the FBI agents.

There were clues that things weren’t as simple as we’d assumed, but I can only see them in hindsight. There had been a moaning sound early in the conversation that I thought had just been from early transformation pain. Nightshade said something about running an experiment. The trail of blood leading to the truck, and Tyler still hadn’t been located. After the success with Piper, idealism had clouded my judgment a little.

The three of us still stood guard as the transformation took hold. I hadn’t become that idealistic.

I had focused my spell on the truck’s gate, trusting that the magic spreading through the rest of the trailer would be enough to restrain a single werewolf. Maybe it could have, but it was no match for two. They burst out of the side of the trailer and the more feral one – Tyler, recently turned and transformed – made a break straight for the festival. Penn, perched on the top of the trailer, produced a whip and caught the wolf by the leg, holding it back. Tyler swiped at Lea, triggering Lea’s panic response to animate a nearby tree. She managed to control the tree’s actions, sending it to slam and pin the feral beast to the ground, and then somehow caused the asphalt of the parking lot to flow up and around the wolf’s legs. I caught Nightshade in a Tangler as she pounced at me, and then I let out my frustration in a blast of fire.

Penn wrapped the silver necklace around one fist and leaped down to try and punch Nightshade into submission. He landed some solid blows, but got bit twice for his efforts. Lea also took a light bite to the foot in her efforts to get away from the feral Tyler and over to apply a light healing spell to Penn.

Penn broke off from his brawl with Nightshade, using some flash powder to stun her, and I threw a Tangler onto Tyler just as he broke free of the asphalt. I then went over to Penn and, realizing the necklace wasn’t suited for the job, Wove a spell to merge the silver with the bullets in my revolver. Lea tried to fly away to fetch help from the FBI, but she turned back when Nightshade broke free of her Tangler and made chase. Instead, Lea decided to fly about, taunting the wolves to keep their attention away from the innocent and blissfully ignorant crowds.

Penn took my revolver and shot Nightshade through the chest, but she was still kicking. In a momentary fit of insanity, I reclaimed the gun and made a shot of my own. I aimed too hastily, and the bullet appeared to go high, straight toward Lea. By pure luck, Nightshade chose that same moment to lunge for Lea and jumped right into the bullet’s path, which killed her. Penn and I then turned our attention to the other werewolf, restraining him and putting a silver bullet in his head.

We assessed the damage, and I promised to provide doses of the lycanthropy antidote (and boy do I hope I can remember how to make that stuff, since I’ve only read about it a couple times) for both Penn and Lea. I’m not sure if Faeries can contract lycanthropy and I’ll admit I’m curious to find out, but I’m not going to experiment on someone who was unwillingly infected (and may not even be Fey in the first place). Lea then went to fetch the FBI agents for help in concocting a cover story, while Pen and I dragged the corpses into the woods and buried them as best we could in a short time.

Yes, I know, but I am not going to lie and I do acknowledge that spreading word of werewolves in Buxcord would only cause a panic among the ignorant masses.

The agents returned without Lea, claiming she was too distraught by the events to want to come back, and then asked for an explanation. After we explained, the agents took us to a more secluded spot and brought out these strange little pen-sized devices. The devices produced a blinding flash, and I felt my mind reflexively reconfigure to deflect foreign alterations, although I think that protection Mnemosyne gave me actually dealt with the attack. They had tried to wipe our memories. Penn’s reaction to the flash convinced the agents it had worked, and they left after instructing us to return and enjoy the festival. Once they’d gone, Penn revealed that the devices hadn’t affected him either, which is… interesting.

We did return to the festival, but mainly to find and check on Lea. She had been memory wiped, recalling nothing after we’d finished helping Piper. We filled her in on what had happened, both to let her account for her wounded foot and to warn her away from interacting with Killer Thriller, seeing as their groupie was dead, Thrax’s necklace was gone, and their truck was a mess.

So, in the end we managed to help one werewolf come to grips (albeit that’s an ongoing project), took down one werewolf willfully intent on being a monster, and failed to save a third who’d only just been changed and never got a chance to understand what had happened to him. A mixed bag, but after some consideration I don’t think you’d be too disappointed in me. After all, I started from the stance of wanting to help them all adjust and make peace. That’s better than when we went through it, right?

-Ash.

#MOTW #Vulpin plays

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