#i would maul him to death with my teeth

[magicmagica]

Gonna come out to the lab today as nonbinary. One of my coworkers is already pusing back with uwu they them is too hard for my wittle brain. He him then fucker godddd this is gonna be so uphill

[hanzajesthanza]

milva and cahir: i will BOLDLY die PROTECTING YOU!!! MY BROTHERS!!! MY BELOVED!!!

angoulême and regis: whoops uhhhhhh ok blood is everywhere now LOL ok that’s a lot of blood! oh no

[suiana]

(yandere! t-rex hybrid x gn! worker reader) (wrote this because i saw this one video where it said t-rexes actually had good eyesight n stuff...) (erm brief violent and murder description)

you thought he couldn't see you.

that's what you were told. they told you that he had poor eyesight, that you wouldn't have to worry about him seeing you.

you saw that he had a mask on. the guards probably put it on to block his nose, so obviously it wasn't that he smelt you. tracks? you and your friend were careful to not leave any obvious ones. noise? surely you two weren't that noisy...

so how on earth did he find you two?!

"haha... oh, your face is so cute."

the hybrid snorts, wiping away the blood on his cheek as he trudges towards you. you take a step back, trying to put distance between you and the volatile hybrid. with shaky breaths, you nervously recall the previous events that had happened for things to have led to this.

you and your friend were tasked to enter the t-rex hyrid's enclosure after hours to look for something that a scientist had previously left inside. a chemical of sorts, one that made the hybrids more aroused and violent.

the guards and higher ups all said that they had tranqualized him and that he wouldn't be awake. they even said that if by any chance he had woken up he would be in poor condition and you two would be able to escape easily.

that was far from the truth.

the second you entered his enclosure, your friend had informed you that he could hear something moving. that should've been your cue to leave but... you were naive and wanted to finish your task. you should've known that there was something going on when the scientists let you two in without any form of protection.

because unfortunately, a few minutes after that, you watched in horror as the hybrid ripped your friend to pieces, mercilessly taking your friend away from you. his screams ring in your ear, forever traumatizing you as his mauled body now lay just a few feet away from you and the hybrid.

which is what brings us to your current predicament.

"you... how did you find us?! they said you were tranqualized and-"

you nervously babble, pointing a shaky finger at the bloodied hybrid who smiles sinisterly at you. you watch as he shrugs, taking long strides as he licks the blood of your friend off his fingers.

"what? never expected me to find you huh?"

he snickers, eyes looking down at you as though you were some sort of ant. you could only let out a soft whimper as you try to back up, only to trip on a rock as the hybrid laughs cruelly.

"oh you really are so cute! look at you! all scared and shaking... do you think i'll kill you?"

the hybrid mocks, smiling at you as his sharp teeth make you dread what he may do to you. shit, those teeth look sharper than knives! it'll be like going through a meat grinder!

"p-please! i only wanted to retrive something that the higher ups told me to do! i thought you had bad eyesight and-"

"me? bad eyesight?"

the hybrid interrupts, pausing in his steps as he raises an eyebrow at you.

"my dear, my eyes are far from being bad. in fact, i think they may be better than yours."

he laughs at you, shaking his head as you feel helplessness fill your mind. what? his eyesight was... good? did the higher ups lie to you?

"that's how i found you two obviously. this damn... muzzle blocks my senses."

he grumbles, poking the mask that restricted his sense of smell. you watch in horror as he suddenly pins you to the ground, a crazed look in his eyes as you say your final prayers. shit... you were definitely going to die here, weren't you?

"i'm so glad those people kept their promise... wanted you for so long."

he mutters, his tail wrapping around your leg as you freeze in place. ah... so this really was a set-up from the very beginning.

"a-are you going to eat me?"

you stammer, looking up at him as tears prick your eyes. shit, so your employers really were sending you and your friend to your deaths, huh? did they run out of food? and promise? was this damned t-rex thirsting over you and your friend? did the higher ups promise to give you as meat if he did something?

you whimper softly, looking at the t-rex as your body shakes fearfully. meanwhile, the hybrid remained quiet for a second, processing your words before deadpanning at you.

"eat you? ah... so they didn't tell you, huh?"

he mumbles, pursing his lips together before snickering again. little did you know that your fate would've been worse than just being offered to the hybrid as a piece of meat.

"why would i eat my future mate?"

"huh?"

oh. so they offered more than just your body to him.

"oh... so you're not going to eat me?"

"well i will eat you, just in a... different way. i'll eat your friend for real though."

you maintain eye contact with him, fear leaving your body momentarily. you blink slowly, staring at him with an exasperated expression before he breaks the silence with his words.

"what? why are you looking at me like that?"

oh wow, maybe because he just admitted to wanting to eat you? sexually? ugh... you can't tell whether this was worser than just being mauled to death like your poor friend over there.

the hybrid notices how your eyes drifted towards your friend before he pouts. his eyebrows furrow slightly, and the corners of his lips point downwards.

"aw, come on! i'll treat you good, promise!"

you stare at him with a dead expression before replying to him in the most deadpan voice you could come up with.

"you literally live in a dinosaur enclosure."

"hey! it's not my fault that those humans took me away and placed me in here! besides... it's pretty comfortable. they give me food and i don't really need to hunt anymore."

he then pouts before sighing dreamily.

"you really are the prettiest... can't believe i had to adore you from afar."

he shakes his head before using one of his hands to caress your cheek. you freeze as you feel his sharp claws touch your skin. shit, were they always this sharp? and what the hell did he mean by adore? did he like you?

"a-adore me? what, are you in love or something-"

"love? yeah... i am in love with you... even if this is the first time we officially talked."

he mutters, hearts in his eyes as he continues to gently touch your face as though you were a delicate statue.

huh... so he loves you? no wonder he isn't eating you... yeah, you remember doing some tasks in his enclosure before this encounter. maybe that's when he fell for you. wait, didn't he also say something about a promise?

"hey the promise-"

"ah, i said i would stop trying to eat them if they gave you to me."

oh.

so the higher ups really traded you and your friend just so this dinosaur guy would stop trying to eat them.

you continue deadpanning at him before groaning. damn it, why did you have to be subjected to the feelings of this stupid hybrid?

[yandere-sins]

Monstober - Day 7: Sphinx

Sphinx are my personal horror. Like, they actually manage to scare me. So... I tried to make them more likable for me, although it makes me add more fiction to an already existing concept :')

Prompt: Sphinx | Riddles // Sand // Giant Warnings: Yandere, Fem!Reader (Gets called "girl" only once but I should probably leave a note here), Violence (Sharp Teeth, Claws, Mention of Death, Mention of being buried alive, Being mauled to death (not the main character)), Monster and Monster Characteristics, Long Post

"Please... Please, you got to help me!"

Your sobs grew louder as you fell to your knees before the giant creature, your hands latching onto her paw, and for some reason, she didn't use it to crush you right then and there. Perhaps it was the desperation in your voice, or maybe the guardian of the ancient resting place of so many of your ancestors was weak to tears. Still, she didn't even growl despite you bursting into her sanctuary unannounced and, frankly, rudely.

Following the tales and warnings you had received since childhood, you should have acted properly and with dignity. But instead, you were inconsolable as you sobbed into her fur. Something about the image of the great sphinx and you, a mere human at her feet, had comical traits of one of the performances you made at the theater. However, what you once loved so much was now the furthest thing on your mind.

"Child of Man, do not sully my fur so," the sphinx finally spoke, and you rose from her paw, wiping the tears and snot from your face.

"I'm so sorry, Great Protector. But I just don't know what to do."

The sphinx shook her paw as if to get rid of the tears you had wetted it with before she sat down on her rear legs. Even though you knew she was alive, you couldn't help but feel like she was a golden monument. The statue of a god you were praying to—truly, as she was your last hope.

"Pray tell your worries then. I've been visited so little by your kind in the last years, it shall dissolve my boredom."

"They want to marry me off!" you explained bluntly, and her slitted pupils expanded upon hearing this before she closed her eyes altogether. Her whole body collapsed as she roared bellowing laughter at your misery. More tears—this time from frustration and disappointment—flooded your eyes. You couldn't even defend yourself with the sound of her laughter carrying far and wide through the cliffs all around the burial site, echoing and resounding, slapping you with her mockery.

"That's it?" she asked dismissively, making it clear your concerns weren't hers. "You come to me with a matter so trifling? Why should I care, Human, who you are to marry?"

"Because he's old!" you screamed against her roars, and though not disappearing completely, her laughter grew more subtle, turning into chuckles.

"So? Is that not desirable? Do you not wish to part ways with a man you don't want?"

It was nearly impossible to hold back your raging feelings of despair and anger and temper yourself. You should have expected her not to be indulgent to your whims, but you still had hoped as she was a protector. Leaning her head down to you, she twisted it from side to side, staring at you expectantly as she waited for your answer. Her lips parting to reveal her fangs should have made you quickly gather your bearings and leave, but you simply couldn't.

Death by being eaten, perhaps, was more merciful than what this marriage would be.

"They'll bury me with him."

Shoulders slumping, you looked down, staring at the sand softly clouding on the ground as the sphinx moved to stand before you properly again. This time, you didn't face her. Instead, you listened to the ruffling of her fur, wishing you could bury yourself in it instead. Of course, the great sphinx was no pet, but she resembled the cat you once called your own with her brown fur. It made you want to seek comfort.

"He won't make it very long anymore, and his last wish is to be married. My family couldn't refuse receiving most of his estate in exchange for my hand in marriage, but now they won't even reconsider, knowing the family plans to bury me with him—alive!"

The sphinx hummed, sitting back down again, which made more sand clouds rise, and you looked up, straight into her eyes watching you.

"It is the way of all things except mine. You would not wish for a life as long as I have. Why defy your fate?"

"Because it's too early!" you protested weakly, letting out a sigh.

"I studied to perform at the theater, to sing and dance. I worked my way up in society, and there was no one who aided me! They are all my accomplishments! And I barely had a chance to showcase what I can do and what I have studied so hard for! All I did cannot lead to me pitifully ending in the tomb of a man I didn't ask to marry!"

You sighed, shaking your head. Clasping your hands together in the motion of a prayer, you held them above your head, bowing to her as you made your final attempt at pleading with her. It almost seemed lost, but you couldn't sink deeper than you already had.

"They are coming for me soon. They always feared I'd run away, so they'll not stop their pursuit until they find me here, where I am asking, for once in my life, for help. Your help. Please, Great Sphinx, find it in you to aid me!"

"I see," she finally relented, and your pulse quickened while you tried not to get your hopes up. Her understanding meant little when she decided not to take action. "Then what do I gain?"

Your breath escaped you as you looked up at her, trying to wager her thoughts. What was there you could give? A monster's help never came cheap, but it was much easier to figure out what they wanted by letting them tell you, their instincts never betraying them, unlike how humans acted on greed and desire.

"What do you want?"

Her tail flicked in the air, smashing and rattling the ground she sat on. Briefly, she averted her eyes, rolling them unnaturally slowly in their sockets as she thought, but soon enough, her lips split into the uncanny grin that suited her well as she came to her conclusion.

"You'll solve my riddle. If you can't, you die here and now and feed me." Her grin widened, sharp teeth glistening between them as if she enjoyed the thought.

"If you solve it, I will ask the same riddle to your pursuers once they come here. If they answer it correctly, I will eat them, and you are free to go, but if not, you will stay here for as long as I wish, amusing me with your song and dance while I get to feed on those that come to get you. Is that a deal you want to make, Child of Man?"

"Yes," you replied, not thinking twice. In reality, you were nervous, your heart thumping out of your chest, ribs aching. But you had come prepared, and you knew that it was possible for the sphinx to give you a riddle, her favorite pastime. Getting to your feet, you braced yourself, noticing how the fur of the creature ruffled in excitement or perhaps the anticipation of a good meal. Regardless, you told yourself to not be discouraged by her confidence.

"Then tell me, what means more to you than it does to me?"

You knew there was no time limit on the question. And yet, you felt the pressure of the sphinx awaiting your answer with hunger in her stomach and desire in her eyes. Reckoning that she wasn't as malicious as the childhood stories made her out to be, didn't help you in the face of your demise. She may have enjoyed having her riddle solved, but to her, it didn't really matter as she came out as the winner. Only for you was it a matter of life and death, and...

"My life..." you whispered out loud, the thought escaping you before you could hold yourself back. Even with your hand clasping over your mouth could you not take back the involuntary answer you gave the sphinx, and she cackled maniacally at your mistake.

"Correct," she purred, settling down on all fours and bumping her enormous head against your body, just like a cat would. Curling your hands into fists, you resisted the urge to pet her, the sound of her purring rumbling through the ground.

"You may stand beside me, for they are coming. Their armor is such a bothering ringing in my ears, yet it will save them from nothing."

An enormous boulder fell off your shoulders, even bringing forth a small smile as you quickly moved forward, positioning yourself next to her paw again. Strangely enough, it was the safest place for you at that moment, and you held onto her fur as the rattling of armor and shouting reached you that she had long heard.

"It's not usually so lively here," the sphinx sighed, her tail flicking and whirling up more sand.

"But it is, always, someone's grave."

"So, what will it be?" the sphinx asked, impatiently waiting for the answer from the four men who had been debating over the riddle for way too long. They felt the pressure, too, you were sure.

Although they made their intentions clear that they were here for you, speaking reverently and dutifully to the sphinx, she told them they'd have to solve the riddle or die trying to tear you from her grasp. However, you didn't forget your own deal with her, and between checking if she was preoccupied, you had been gesturing to the men, trying to help them and yourself.

It felt terrible since you were trying to save yourself by sacrificing them, but it had to be done. At least, you wouldn't have to go back to your village either way, but staying with the sphinx and perhaps one day becoming her meal wasn't the consequence you wanted to have either.

So you pointed at yourself since they wanted you. Then you did the universal sign of chopping your head off to signal death. Death and life, the man should have understood it since they wanted you alive and well to marry the old man. And finally, you pointed towards them. Their life, that's all they had to say.

The sphinx had no reason to honor her promises, but at the same time, she didn't have a reason to save you either. Yet, here she was, doing it in a way that suited her, even if it was hard to believe that despite her monstrous appearance, giant size, and appetite for humans, she could be so benevolent.

"Have you decided yet?" she asked, changing up her question in hopes of making one of the men nervous enough to give an answer.

Surprisingly, one of them reacted, the youngest of the soldiers nervously stepping forward, wringing his hands and glancing back over his shoulder a few times to get confirmation.

"The... The girl," he answered, and you felt your body stiffen as he gave you a short smile, not knowing the verdict yet. However, the sphinx bristled in excitement, cackling like she had with your answer before she lowered her head, grinning at the young man.

"Wrong," she revealed, fangs snapping forward, and you yelped in horror and shock as you heard the crunching of bones and metal, one bite enough to break through the man's body. The sphinx got up on her four feet, and with an ease that shouldn't have been impossible for a body this big, she pounced on the others that screamed and readied their weapons, just not in time to fight her off.

Maybe you screamed as the men were ripped apart one by one, a fun hunt for the sphinx, but not so much for you who had to witness it.

Maybe you simply cowered in silence until their gurgles and crunching bones stopped resounding in the atrium of the ancient burial site.

"They are wrong, you know?" you heard the sphinx call out to you, and you slowly lifted your head, not wanting to see the carnage on the ground. But her face, smothered in blood and looking so much more horrific than it had before, wasn't easy to stomach either. The wind blew through the pillars surrounding the hall, dragging out the sand stained with the blood of innocent soldiers who had been sent to "rescue" you and the severity of the situation began to sink in.

You only felt the tears brimming at your eyelids, but you didn't spill them, not when you were almost worse off than these guys. The sphinx laid down next to you, separating you from the entrance and exit to her lair with her gigantic body. Letting you go was not her plan, and you had agreed to this arrangement without thinking twice.

"What about?" you asked dully, watching her very human face lick her blood-stained paws with the naturalness of any feline creature. You'd have to accept that about her if you were stuck here now. But the thought had yet to fully register.

"You mean a lot to me, even if they didn't think so. But at least I get to keep you now, and you'll be my little songbird."

Tears broke loose as you sacked to the floor, her tail flopping against the sand as you began sobbing miserably. And she let you, as she had from the very beginning. Was this an outcome she had anticipated? One she allowed to happen as the opportunity arose? You would have been dead had you not done anything, buried with the corpse of a man you didn't even know. But now that you were in this situation, you realized your death had always been predetermined.

You merely prolonged the fateful day that you'd be buried here.

[mediumgayitalian]

“Death Breath! Hey! Wait up!”

Nico bolts. He makes it about ten feet away from his cabin door before Will and his stupid long legs catch up with him, throwing an arm over his shoulder and then immediately tripping over his own foot and sending them both sprawling.

“I hate you,” Nico groans, curling up on the grass.

It’s too early for any of this. He was just trying to get back at Cecil for covering everything he owned in aluminum foil last week — and then he was going to go right the hell back to bed.

He knew he should have fucking shadow travelled.

“Aw, c’mon. You love me.”

Nico pretends to gag. The only thing he gets is Will’s crossed arms and raised eyebrow, so he doubles down and really starts to retch. Whatever. It’s eight thirty in the morning. He fell asleep at five. Rational thinking is a distant, distant memory.

“Whenever you’re done.”

“I will be sick at the thought for the next eight weeks,” Nico informs him. For dramatic effect, he looks up at Will’s face — which he cant even see, since the sun’s in his eyes — and shudders.

“You know, you have a genuine, beautiful talent for the dramatic arts, the likes of which I have never seen. Are you sure you’re not secretly an Apollo kid?”

I better not be, ‘cause then all the staring I do at your calves would be real weird, he thinks to himself, then considers whether he can convince Kayla to give him a lobotomy. He thinks she might like the opportunity.

“Piss off,” he says instead of that, artfully schooling his face into the aristocratic mask he’s perfected from his father, squaring his shoulders and looking at Will like he’s a pebble lodged in the flesh of his heel.

Will rolls his eyes. “Get up, Sharpay Evans. You’re gonna stain your shirt worse than you already have.”

Nico sniffs haughtily. “My shirt is perfectly fine, thank you very much. I order them in black for a reason.”

He notices a giant grass stain on the side when he stands. He ignores it. Will does not.

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re the Goth King.”

“Ghost King.”

“Right, right. That helps your case.”

Nico shoves him, fighting back a grin. “Whatever, Solace. What are you bothering me for?”

“Oh, yeah!”

Nico is a deeply cheesy person. Down to the core of him, past all the sarcasm and prickliness and trauma, or whatever, he’s made of fucking mozzarella, because what business does he have comparing Will’s eyes to the morning winter sky? Huh? That’s embarrassing. It isn’t even original. If Nico caught anyone saying shit like that out loud in real life, he’s collapse into the shadows from embarrassment. He needs electroshock therapy.

“I was thinking —”

“Rare,” Nico quips, just to watch Will’s eyebrow twitch. It does. Nico smiles.

“I was thinking,” he repeats, mocking glare in Nico’s direction, “that you and me go to the city this afternoon.”

“You chased me across camp for that?”

“Oh, please, Zombie Face. I chased you maybe twenty yards.”

“I think all that time sniffing rubbing alcohol has deteriorated your brain.”

“I think I’m going to shove you in the lake.”

“Feel free to try. You will not wake up the next morning.”

“Nah.” Will shoots him a smug smile. Nico trips over air. “I can be as annoying as I want and you still won’t kill me. I have impunity.”

Nico rolls his eyes, refusing to dignify that with an answer. The less he acknowledges his own shame, the more likely it will go away on its own. Probably.

“Anyways. Guess what Cecil told me today.”

“His last will and testament?” Nico guesses, suddenly remembering his reason for being up this early.

“No, no, not that.” Will pauses. “Well, I mean, he did. I passed it on to Chiron. He has requested that when you maul him, you avoid his face, because he wants to be a sexy corpse and he can’t do that if you destroy his prettiest features.”

“Noted. Please inform him I will come for him within a window of the next fifteen hours.”

Theres a very particular face Will makes when he finds something genuinely funny. A smile a little more crooked than his regular one, teeth working at his bottom lip to hold it back, left dimple appearing in his cheek. It makes Nico want to do stupid things like press his thumb into said divot. He instead shoves his hands deeply into his pockets.

“I’ll let him know.” He clears his throat. “Anyways. You know what day it is today?”

Nico squints. “Tues…day? No, Wednesday.” He glances at Will. It’s been maybe….three days since their weekly sleepover? No, fuck, four. He thinks. “Thursday. Final answer.”

“Monday,” Will corrects, “and, gods, you need to sleep more. And a calendar. But no, that’s not my point.”

“Feel free to get to it.”

“It’s Valentine’s Day,” Will finally explains. He tries for exasperated, but it doesn’t work — he’s clearly excited, bouncing on the balls of his feet and waving his hands. “And The Five Seasons is doing half off for couples, so you and I need to go!”

He waves his hands, as if tying off some grand reveal. His (blue blue blue blue) eyes are squeezed nearly shut by the force of his beam, which lessons slightly with every second Nico does not respond.

“William,” he says finally. He opens his mouth, then closes it again. “William.”

Will pouts. “What?”

“Explain how this is relevant to me, William.”

“Aw, c’mon, Nico! Don’t be difficult!”

“William,” stresses Nico again. “We are not a couple. Did you hit your head again?”

“Well, duh, Neeks, it’s about the scam!” He flaps his hand in a way Nico assumes is meant to convey something. “We’re gonna — eat! Cheap! By pretending to be a couple!” Now both hands are flopping, paired with wide, imploring eyes. “Obviously!”

“Obviously,” Nico repeats, slowly. He instructs one half of his brain to keep its focus on not melting into a puddle of blushing embarrassed goo, and the other to exercise restraint and not strangle the boy in front of him. A headache begins to press behind his eyes. “Will, what the shit.”

“You of all people!” Will throws his hands up. “You love scamming people! You hate corporate holidays! You frequently throw pebbles at people who look, and I quote, too obnoxiously happy! You’re the best hater I know! You should be on board!”

He makes a compelling point. Not that Nico is going to make that easy for him.

“You seem very invested in this,” Nico points out. He manages to keep his voice tastefully judgmental, which he’s very proud of.

“Of course I am! I want cheap Five Seasons food, godsdammit!” He pauses, switching tactics. “Nico,” he says softly. He puts a gently hand on Nico’s forearm, making him freeze. He is suddenly very, very close, and wow, did his hair always frame his face in gentle waves? Has that always been a thing? “I really, really want to scam a restaurant with you.” He smiles, small and crooked and gods, Will doesn’t look dangerous very often, but holy Hades when he does — “Will you make my Valentines, and scam a restaurant with me?”

His fingers begin to trace little circles in the inside of Nico’s wrist.

“Yes,” he squeaks, voice cracking.

“Yes!” Will cheers, pulling his fist. “Yes, hell yes, Nico! We are going to scam the shit out of this restaurant! Half off for couples? How about half off for heathens! Free money, baby! Fuck yeah!”

He turns back towards Nico, smile still wide and radiant, blinking eyes pools of sparkling excitement. Nico’s knees go a little weak. “I’ll come get you at 2! Thank you, Neeks!”

He runs off back to his cabin, only tripping twice. Nico watches him go, feeling a little like he’s tripping, too, with all the swooping his stomach is doing.

“Dude,” he mumbles to himself, shaking his head. “Be normal. Christo.”

It takes him ten straight minutes to get back to his cabin, even though he’s standing at the porch.

———

The obsidian handle of the Hades’ cabin door rattles.

“Neeks!” calls a voice behind the door, “you ready to go?”

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.” Nico scrambles over to the mirror and stares at himself. He turns a little to the left. He scowls. “Shit!” Tugging the shirt off, he turns back to his closet, tossing the piece of clothing to join the rest of its brethren on the floor. “Shitfuck. Fuckshit. Shit.”

“Nico!”

“Coming!”

Tapping his foot rapidly, he looks harder, as if that will magically make the right shirt pop into existence, perfectly pressed, on a hanger. “Shit.”

“What could possibly be taking so long? You’ve had two hours!”

“I care about my appearance, Mr Flip Flops and Scrubs!”

“Bleh bleh! Hurry up!”

Nico bites his lip. It shouldn’t matter. It doesn’t, really. Five Seasons is not actually a fancy restaurant. He and Will just like to joke that it is, because it has tablecloths. They’ve gone there dozens of times before; they stop every time they’re in the city for supply runs or visits to Olympus or to harass their summer-only friends at school. There is literally no reason for Nico to be stressing about what stupid shirt he should wear. Gods know Will is wearing cargo shorts.

“Nico!”

“I’m coming!“

Scowling, he digs through the pile of discarded clothes until he finds the first shirt he’d put on — a dark green button up that was given to him, along with a bunch of other fancy clothes he never wears, by the Aphrodite cabin. He hastily shoves their buttons through their holes, cursing when he mixes them up and has to start over, and sprints over to the mirror to inspect himself.

The shirt looks good. It’s a little tight on the arms, which he suspects was on purpose, and the colour compliments his skin nicely. The buttons are a dark, shiny brown that match his eyes. They pair nice with his simple jeans and black vans, casual enough that he doesn’t look like he’s going to Prom, or anything stupid like that, but dressy enough that it looks like he put effort in. He runs his fingers through his hair, trying to make the staticky strands sit right, but gives up pretty quickly. It’s okay if one thing is a little messy, right?

“Finally,” huffs Will as the door swings open. He glances Nico up and down, then grins. “You look great.”

Nico was right. He is indeed wearing cargo shorts, although to his credit they are his one pair without various Head Medic stains. His sweater, too, is a pretty blue, V-necked, long-sleeved, and a completely different style than his shorts. It clashes horribly. His shoes are, for some reason, bright solid pink. Nico suspects Hecate magic. His hair is braided in two French braids, his favourite way to wear it. Nico believes he is also wearing a touch of sparkly eyeshadow.

“You look dorky.”

Will grins wider. “Thank you! I wouldn’t let anyone help me choose something.”

“You should have.”

“I wanted it to be authentic, Nico. Also, got something for you.” From behind his back, he pulls out a handful of daisies, black dirt clinging to their roots, like he plucked them straight from the ground. Nico is inexplicably endeared by the image, and prays the smile on his face is less soft than he knows it is.

“You got me flowers?”

“Well, duh, Avril Lavigne. We gotta sell the scam.”

Nico brings them close to his face and inhales deeply. They smell fresh and earthy and sweet.

“That’s a stupid reason to bring someone flowers.”

“Give them back, then.”

“No. Fuck off. They’re mine.”

Will’s eyes twinkle. “Okay.” He holds out his arm. “Ready to go?”

The jump is close enough that Nico can convince him to shadow travel, and not just because he sadistically looks forward to the shade of green Will’s face will get after. As dangerous as he knows it can be, he misses it, sometimes. There’s something comforting about it, something soothing and familiar. Shadow travelling to the restaurant eases any lingering nerves.

“If you’re gonna throw up, do it somewhere I can’t hear you,” he says as they materialize in an alley.

Will’s cheeks puff out. “I’m gonna do it on your fuckin’ shoes.”

“I will leave your ass here, Solace, I swear to the gods.” Despite his grumbling, he rests a cool hand on the back of Will’s neck until he’s recovered. “Good?”

“Yeah.” He straightens, dusting off his sweater. “Let’s go.”

Nico follows him down the alley and onto the street, elbowing past the crowd of pedestrians until they approach the familiar glass doors. He rolls his eyes fondly every time Will apologizes to someone.

“You need to be meaner.”

Will sticks his tongue out and tries to trip him. Unfortunately, he only manages to throw himself off balance, nearly crashing to the floor of Nico hadn’t caught him.

“Good gods, Solace.”

“That was your fault!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

The doors of the restaurant are absolutely plastered in cheesy red hearts and bows and cartoon kisses. And, as promised, a giant sign promising couples a fifty percent discount on their meals.

“My love,” says Will dramatically, holding out a hand, “shall we?”

Nico sighs, resting his hand delicately in Will’s. It sparks with electricity, like it always does. “I suppose.”

“Party pooper.”

“I’m not hearing oh, Nico, thank you so much for doing this incredibly stupid thing with me, you are my dearest friend and I owe you one. Or three, for some reason.”

Will’s mouth twitches. “Oh, Nico, thank you so much for —”

Nico shoves him, laughing. “Shut up.”

They’re seated pretty quickly, server smiling when they take notice of their clasped hands. Will orders chicken tenders, like he does every single time without fail, and water. Nico orders from the adult menu and absolutely does not make any kind of show about it.

“There is nothing babyish about chicken tendies.”

“Oh, of course not.”

“Is this about you having a credit card? That does not make you more adult than me. It makes you a nepo baby.”

“Mhm. Sure thing.”

“Nobody likes a nepo baby, Nico.”

“Look, I think your drink comes with a complimentary sippy cup.”

Teasing and joking with Will is so easy that Nico forgets the core of their mission. The pink garlands hanging from the ceiling fade into the background — he’s too busy crying with laughter when Will nearly chokes to death on a french fry, too busy flicking a forkful of food at his shoulder just to make him shriek, too busy kicking his shin under the table. He catches Nico’s foot between his the fourth time he tries it, keeping it trapped for the rest of the meal. Nico finds he doesn’t mind.

“And your bill,” says their server when they’re done, setting down a slip of paper. “Forgive me if I’m being presumptuous, but do you two qualify for today’s discount?”

Will smirks widely. “We do,” he says, with no small amount of pleasure. He shoots Nico the least subtle wink of all time. Nico rolls his eyes, cheeks going a little pink.

“Great! You guys have a wonderful Valentine’s day.”

“You, too.”

The server hurries away, turning to their other tables. Will’s smile is wide and smug.

“I knew it would work.”

“Duh. Easiest scam in the world, Solace.”

He sticks his tongue out. “And thus the best payout. You’re welcome.”

“Blah, blah. Gimme the bill.”

“Um, no way, di Angelo. I’m paying.”

He opens his wallet before Nico can stop him, mouthing as he counts the bills.

“What? No! I’m paying.”

“Are not.”

“Am too!”

“Are not.” He sets down a couple twenties. Nico snatches them right back up. “You we’re just complaining about my credit card!”

“Exactly. Thus my need to continue to pretend you don’t have one, so we can continue our friendship.”

“Solace, I swear to the gods.”

“di Angelo, I swear to the gods.”

Nico stares him down. Will stares back. He doesn’t even try to hide his lazy grin, his laughing eyes.

“You’re not paying for this by yourself,” Nico says firmly. “You don’t have a job. My father invented being rich.”

“Sure, but I made you come with me.”

“Ugh!” Nico throws his hands up, imagining how satisfying it would be to wrap his hands around that long neck (followed by his teeth and his tongue and his —). “Why are you impossible? I would’ve gone with you no matter what, stupid!”

As soon as he says it he wants to stick his head in wet cement. For a brief second, something like surprise flits across Will’s face, before he schools it back into his teasing smirk.

“Well, obviously, Death Breath. I’m excellent company.”

“You’re literally the most annoying person I know.”

“And yet here you are, hanging out with me, of your own volition.”

“…I’m paying next time.”

Will grins. “Whatever you say.”

They walk around the city for a while before heading back to camp. Will says it’s because he needs the air, Nico knows it’s because he wants him to rest a little longer before trying to shadow travel again. He tries not to let himself get all melty inside.

(Nobody willingly hangs out around the city for the ‘air’. He’s a shit liar. Nico should be offended.)

It’s nearing curfew by the time they melt back out from behind Thalia’s tree, extra shadows of early evening making the trip easier.

“Those fries are going to make a reappearance,” Will grimaces.

“Not if you don’t want me to kick you in the face.”

“You’d never.”

He would indeed never. But he would rather pass away than admit it, so.

“C’mon, dot face. It’s getting late. You have a cabin to run.”

“Oh, Nico,” Will says in a breathy falsetto, “are you walkin’ me to my cabin? How chivalrous!”

“Nevermind.”

“No no no no no I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” Nico allows himself to be tugged, weak to Will’s giggles. “Walk me to my cabin. C’mon.”

Sighing, as if he’s so put out, Nico does. Some point in between Thalia’s tree and the amphitheater, Will’s hand slides down from around his wrist to tangled in between his fingers. Coincidentally, his mouth goes dry.

As they approach the Apollo cabin, Will slows to a stop.

“Hey.” He squeezes their fingers together, smile soft in the dying light of dawn. “I had fun today. Thank you for coming with me.”

Nico swallows. One day, those words will be said in a different context, if everything goes well for Nico, and he’s not sure how the hell he’s going to handle it without bursting into flame. “Yeah, well. Anything to scam a restaurant.”

“Right.”

They walk the last few steps to the cabin, rickety porch steps creaking under their feet as they approach the open door. Will doesn’t let go.

“Hey, Nico.”

“…Yeah?”

Quick as a flash, Will leans in and presses the softest of kisses to his mouth. The noise Nico makes is practically punched out of his lungs, spine going rigid in surprise.

“You can pay for our next date, okay?”

He’s gone before Nico can respond, ducking into his cabin with a small smile and closing the door behind him. Nico stands there, like an idiot, for three solid minutes at the very least, distantly aware of the giggles coming through the open window.

His hand comes up, fingers brushing his bottom lip.

“The little fucker set me up.”

Valentine’s day scam. Please. The only scam today was the scam of Will’s sneaky asking.

Nico smiles.

“You’re a mess, Solace!” he shouts, knowing damn well Will is listening.

He’s right. “Goodnight, Nico!”

Shaking his head, Nico runs back to his cabin, entire body tingling and cheeks aching with his grin.

[creative-clawmarks]

Longass Vampire AU Loredump

I feel I should preface this with the most important fact of this AU: supernatural beings are not actually a part of this world.

What I mean by this is there is no secret society of vampires, there is no chapter in the medical books on lycanthropy, and ghost hunters still have not found conclusive evidence. As far as you or I or anyone else knows the cast of MH are the only things like them in existence.

Because the Operator did this to them.

It's a parasite, and its strategy is to make people into predators then mop up the trail of bodies they leave behind.

As for why their monstrosity takes the specific forms it does? The Watsonian Explanation is that we will never really know, such things are beyond people's understanding. The Doyalist Explanation is that I have taken the character's metaphorical roles and made them literal to give myself an excuse to draw sharp teeth.

With that out of the way, here's what these freaks are actually capable of:

Alex (Vampire):

Standard package of fast healing, unnatural speed, and unbeating heart. Probably immortal but I guess now we'll never know.

Drinks blood, of course. But I like my vamps fucked up so there's a good dose of gory cannibalism for flavor.

He won't combust in the sun or anything, but his skin is especially sensitive to heat and his eyes are especially sensitive to light.

Heightened hearing, he could hunt someone down with his eyes closed just by tracking their heartbeat.

Venomous, specifically paralytic toxins. Once he's bitten you there's no running away, you're basically screwed.

Fangs and claws are retractable. I also gave him a forked tongue because he's like a terrarium snake to me :)

"Once more I have seen the director go out in his lizard fashion."

He can purr. Because I know what the people want.

Tim (Werewolf):

Standard package of fast healing, unnatural strength, and canine features. Would rather not think about whether or not he's immortal.

Does not hunger for human flesh. If given the opportunity he might maul a deer tho.

Burned by the touch of silver. He also personally thinks wolfsbane is gross but that's unrelated.

When in human form he's mostly that, human. Sure his senses are sharper and he can grow out his teeth and claws a little bit but otherwise he's normal.

When in wolf form, on the other hand, he is DANGEROUS. I'm talking bite through steel tear you in half only thing that can stop him is a silver bullet dangerous.

The wolf form is analogous to Masky in this AU, as in he turns against his will whenever he's threatened or misses a dose and he won't remember much whenever he eventually turns back.

The only time he can change under his own power with his mind intact is during the full moon. He looks forward to it every month because without the threat of loosing control being a wolf is rad actually.

If you scratch him under the chin he goes boneless. Doesn't matter what form he's in.

Brian (Ghost):

Standard package of walk through walls, disappear, and fly. I don't think the term immortal applies to this situation tho...

You know the excuse that ghost don't just physically manifest cuz they don't have enough energy for it? Yeah he's so incandescently pissed that he's tangible more often than not.

Its actually kind of the opposite conundrum where he has to focus and calm down to actually use his ghostly abilities.

Salt circles will totally work on him, but good luck catching him first lol.

Even if you can't see him you can still sort of feel his presence, the room will get colder and the shadows will get deeper.

If you catch him on a bad day he can pull some Poltergeist TM level shenanigans.

Can't really communicate like he used to, his mind is too broken and detached from what it once was. That's why all the ToTheArk videos look like that.

If you were to put a spirit box in the room with him all you would hear coming out of it is his death screams on loop.

Jay (Mortal):

He's just a guy lol, poor bastard doesn't stand a chance.

Why yes, he has read Twilight. Why do you ask?

[dufferpuffer]

The idea that Remus Lupin was trying to be CIVIL with Severus... MORE than Snape was trying to be civil with HIM... That... is hilarious.

Remus had one goal in POA: Look Good. Look good to Dumbledore - which meant not sharing useful information he had about Sirius Black, and likely outright LIED about things when asked. (he was his friend - and nobody asked 'is there anything you know to help with the search?' not even a stressed McGonagall...?) Look good to the Students - which meant not only being the bestest, nicest teacher possible, but to help them squash their fears. Their problems. To fearlessly walk all over Snape. I don't know if there is a single thing Remus said to Snape that wasn't passive aggressive and demeaning. Yet Snape, Mr Insults, Mr Witty Comebacks, Mr Explosive Temper - never once clapped back. He was always polite, always saying things sweetly... through gritted teeth, sure - but through gritted teeth is very much not his style when someone disrespects him.

"Severus was only being nice/putting up with it because Dumbledore told him to!" Yeah. Severus is a good boy, making an expensive and difficult potion every month, personally coming to serve it like a House Elf (Master Remus is in the habit of missing doses) Putting up with Remus' blatant lies about the map - even allowing him to take it away to his own office - because he knew snatching it back without proof would probably be against his orders.

I would call that being EXTREMELY civil. I'd call Remus' actions 'using him like a tool'. A social stepping stone. Not a good colleague.

"Snape only outed Remus' Lycanthropy because he was sore about not getting a medal!" When did Severus EVER do ANYTHING for positive attention...? If he wanted that medal so badly he could have killed Sirius Black while he was unconscious. Claimed he saved Harry Potter, dispelled the dementors himself... It would have been revenge for Lily, too! But no, he carefully lifted him onto a stretcher and took him to get medical help, despite thinking him a murderer set for execution.

"I think it is clear that Mr. Lupin is unfit to teach, due not only to the nature of his illness - but his behaviour regarding it. Having to teach his classes every month alongside my own was exhausting, as was brewing the difficult Wolfsbane potion in my spare time and delivering it by hand to ensure it was consumed... as he has proven himself indisputably irresponsible. That is not to mention the recent facts that have come to light about Sirius Black - information he never thought to mention. Worst of all, it is due entirely to his own negligence that I was forced to use my own body to shield three students from becoming infected with his illness... or worse, mauled to death."

Honestly I think that is a pretty reasonable formal complaint. But he didn't get Remus fired. Remus, now outed as disabled, could have used his LEGENDARILY RARE position as a beloved teacher with the personal backing of Albus Dumbledore to fight for better rights for and remain teaching. Albus did not fire him. The Ministry nor the Board of Governors had called for his firing. Remus quit of his own accord the MOMENT he got bad press.

It will be a long time before another werewolf will have the chance to advocate for their rights from such a supported position.

"I only missed my dose due to the emergency of realizing Sirius Black was on school grounds! I had a clean record the rest of the year, curled safely in my office - and despite it being my first year as a teacher taught my classes admirably. Any of the students and staff will vouch for my care towards my students and my subject... ...And the only one I harmed as a Werewolf was Black himself."

Remus would have SUCH an easy time explaining his negligence - and if he was willing to also use Sirius as a tool, as a social stepping stone, he could spin himself as a sort of hero, too. It would be a battle for sure. One he might lose, ultimately, and be forced to step down as a teacher. But he had the chance to be a POSITIVE face for those suffering Lycanthropy - in a world where most of them feel the only option is to turn to Fenrir Greyback. A fact he knows well, as a spy. The werewolf that was a teacher. That was PROUD of being a teacher. Whose students loved him. Who fought a murderer!

But he ran. Before anything. He would rather save face than fight for what he believes in - just like when he stayed quiet and didn't support Sirius in an argument, despite agreeing with him.

[am-i-interrupting]

Hello! I really love your work, I just HAD to pop in your inbox after seeing your fics about Alastor's daughter.

What if Alastor's daughter is an angel that is scared of demons.

Like, when they were alive, Alastor's daughter used to be such a sweet child and I mean SWEET. Would never hurt a soul. Though she got killed at a young age because of envious children her age, left her in the forest to scare her but she got mauled by wolves and died.

Before she died, she was aware of Alastor's killings but she wouldn't speak up because she was too scared. IMAGINE ALASTOR BEING SUCH A LOVING DAD BUT ALL SHE CAN THINK ABOUT IS WHAT IF SHES NEXT IF SHE FUCKS UP AROUND HIM.

And he's not aware that she thinks that way. So when Sera sent her to investigate the Hazbin Hotel (to see if Charlie's theory is really true) she sees Alastor and gets tense even though he's so sincere around her.

How would everything gooo omg I'd like to see how creative you'll get!!

.

You never hurt a soul and that’s what helped you get into heaven.

You loved your father. You did but you were also terrified of him.

He was a serial killer, a murderer, and even if he tucked you into bed at night and made the best food, you could still be next.

You felt guilty the day he died because while you were heartbroken you were also so relieved.

You confessed to the police his sins as soon as they came to the house to break the news of his death.

You were crying, choking on tears as you told them everything.

It was the best and worst day of your life.

Despite that, life remained difficult for you.

People were cruel and mean and heartless and you died before the age of twenty.

You made it to Heaven.

You were a top winner, one revered for their kindness.

That’s how you got asked by Sera to go to Hell to observe Charlie’s idea first hand. Her being too untrusting of the angels to not start killing and “sanitizing” Hell as soon as they got there.

You were excited. You met Charlie while she was in Heaven.

She was somewhat of a kindred spirit. You got on with her well.

(Alastor actually does reminisce over you and his mother both in Hell. The lyric “You’re like a child that I wish that I had” in Hells Greatest Dad would have been changed to “You’re like the child which I used to have.”)

You went through the portal with her and Vaggie.

Both girls seemed conflicted, something must have happened during the meeting they had with the angels but Charlie quickly put on a smile and started explaining what everything was.

When you get to the Hotel, you seem him. You never thought you’d see your father again. You weren’t sure you wanted to even if you missed him. You immediately froze.

His brows furrowed as he looked at you before his smile widened, sharp teeth replacing the human ones you once knew but they were still coffee-stained.

“Is that my darling angel?” he asked as he walked towards you. “My dear, look how you’ve grown.”

He used the tips of his fingers to angle your face towards him and you couldn’t pull away. You were frozen in place, looking at him with wide eyes.

“You two know each other?” Charlie asked.

“Why yes, we do indeed,” Alastor said. “You recall I mentioned having a child.”

“Oh my god! Oops, sorry. Don’t use the lord’s name in vain and all. But this is so great!”

“Yeah,” you said meekly. “So great.”

Alastor would notice something wrong. He remembers your behaviors well. He’d try to make you comfortable while unknowingly pressing your buttons more.

Everyone else also notices something wrong, except Niffty.

Sir Pentious and Charlie likely think you’re just anxious and try to make you feel as comfortable and welcomed as possible.

Vaggie assumes it’s because you’re in Hell.

Husk and Angel realize it’s because Alastor’s there.

The two team up to make sure you’re never ever left completely alone.

They even manage to pull you away for a bit.

Husk offers some good advice and true silence not filled with the background of a radio crackling.

Angel let’s you bury your head in his fluff.

[scoutofmymind]

Bestie drop the knight fic lore pls 😭💘💘

Okay, so here’s some lore!! I’m glad you asked this actually, because it could help with understanding a continuation, which I am currently writing tiny moments between reader and Luigi since one of my little babies asked for some more moments of them between nights in the princess’ chamber where they have to act ‘normal’.

You'd first glimpsed your father's true nature at fifteen, during your first Grimguard Breaking ceremony. The sight haunts you still. A merchant's son forced to maul his own brother while the court watched in silence. That night you saw your father's face in the torchlight — not the grieving widower who'd lost your mother, but a man who smiled at the sounds of breaking.

In just ten years, he'd transformed from a man who wept at your mother's garden into someone who collected his army of hounds.

You remember how he'd stroked the newly-made Grimguard's head afterward, the same way he used to pat your hair when you were small.

Luigi had been fifteen when they caught him on the cliffs of Ironmere, fingers bloodied from climbing, still wearing the soot of his village's ashes. He'd nearly made it, too — just a hundred feet more and he would have crossed into Brightshore's borders. But the patrol had watched him scale impossible heights, tracked his desperate ascent through knife-edge rocks where even mountain goats feared to step. The king's hunters didn't see a refugee that day — they saw raw potential.

A boy who could climb sheer cliff faces would make a fine hound, they reasoned. Better to collar such agility than waste it in a prison cell. So they took him, not because he was a criminal, but because he'd shown such magnificent desperation. After all, the best Grimguards are made from those who have nothing left to lose.

The story of Luigi's thorned muzzle is written in the scars around his mouth. During his fitting, he'd stood straight-backed while other captures cowered, meeting each handler's eyes with unflinching defiance. "I'm not your dog," he'd declare, voice steady even as they approached with the steel. "My name is Luigi." He'd repeat it like a prayer, like a challenge, like the last ember of a fire refusing to die.

The irony wasn't lost on anyone when he finally snapped — literally — taking a handler's finger clean off at the second knuckle. They'd laughed as they fitted the first row of thorns, silver needles placed with surgical precision around his jaw. "See?" they'd mocked, "Bites like a proper hound after all." Each word spoken now draws blood, the thorns kissing his flesh, but still, he speaks.

The Teething is the kingdom's favorite sport — a bloodied ballet where fresh captures learn to dance.

In the training arena's dust, new pups clash with only muzzles and bare hands as weapons. These matches run brief but brutal, lasting until first blood or submission. Merchants close their shops to watch, peasants press against the arena's bars, and children perch on shoulders to glimpse tomorrow's hounds. It's a grim circus where the kingdom's people can witness their future protectors being forged, betting copper pieces on which pup will break first — both bone and spirit.

The Muzzling, however, is high art for the nobility.

Full-ranked Grimguards locked in formal combat, their muzzles gleaming with wrapped thorns and ceremonial spikes. They fight until one lies still or submits — though death, while officially forbidden, is an open secret in these matches. Noble houses sponsor their favorite Grimguards, wagering fortunes and political favors on the outcome. The King himself often arranges these matches with careful purpose — nothing demonstrates power quite like watching your rival's prized hound writhe in the dirt, choking on submission.

Some say more wars have been prevented in the Muzzling arena than at any treaty table.

(I am writing currently Luigi’s first Teething match for the previously mentioned request!)

This is some lore and backstory!! But I am totally willing to answer any more specific questions, too!

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Can I has a Joel x reader request where he ends up picking her up along the way(saving her) and she just kinda sticks around. She's good at medicinal herbs and foraging. speaking of WHY ARE THERE NO CHARACTERS LIKE THAT IN ANY POST APOCALYPTIC SHOW/MOVIE like that should be a course. Idk I want it to be fluffy like a clicker or an infected is running at her and he gets rid of it

I love this idea for sure, I hope you like it :)

"You're a fucking botanist?"

That was the first thing Joel asked me when he found me stranded in the country side of Wyoming, a young girl attached to his side when he looked down at the botany book in my hands and the array of flowers and twigs around me.

He almost shot me. Of course he didn't tell me that till weeks later, when we were finally settled in with his brother and the rest of civilization back in Jackson. He claimed that he thought I was infected by how much I was shaking but my claim was that it was nearly negative five degrees and my anxiety was skyrocketing as soon as I heard him step on a twig twenty feet away from me.

He saved me from freezing to death and getting mauled by a clicker and insulted my career in the same five minutes.

"Well botany was useless until the end of the world, huh?"

"I like to think that we were always useful, just not in obvious ways."

"Are you alone out here?" The girl asks with a kinder smile than the expression the mystery man is giving me, his eyes drooping low to look over me and my backpack to my left. She steps past the frightening man to step between the two of us, giving the man a hesitant but kind look before turning back to me.

"Yeah, just little old me." I shiver, teeth chattering as another blow of wind sweeps right through my bones, chilling me to my core. She frowns and pulls her jacket tightly around her chin before reaching into her pack to pull out a small blanket, tossing it onto the ground in front of me.

"Joel, can we keep her?" She asks as I scramble to wrap the blanket around my shoulders, already feeling ten times better than I did before.

"I'm not a stray dog." I giggle, looking at her with a teasing look and she nods bashfully, understanding how she came off.

"You practically look like it." The man mutters and I frown, heart panging as I lean down to smell my shirt and I have to be honest, it does resemble that of a wet dog.

"Ouch, when was the last time you showered, old man." I tease but his stoic expression sticks as his shoulders lift in a brief shrug.

"A week ago." He adds matter-of-factly and I feel envy swim in my belly at the thought of a snarky, unkind man like him deserving a hot shower, a shower that I would kill someone for.

"You guys are mean." I huff before looking to the girl with a smirk. "I like you." Before anyone else can say a word, Joel's eyes flicker past me and to the tree line and I feel my stomach drop at the frightened look on his face.

"Joel-" The young girl starts but Joel holds a hand up to her, taking a step towards me and I let him push me behind him and into the arms of the girl with a huff.

"I got it, Ellie." He mutters, holding the knife carefully in the air as the clicker approaches us and I look away in time as I hear the sound of the knife sheath itself into the skull of the monster in a split second. I take a breath, trying to regain my balance as I wobble a bit.

Between being scared by them and then the clicker, my heart needs a full restart.

"Jesus." Ellie whispers, head whipping in my direction as my butt hits the snow, head lolling between my knees while I try to catch my breath. Joel is in front of me in a moments notice with my backpack at his side, his hand carefully reaching out to rest on my shoulder, catching my attention.

"You okay?"

"She should come with us." Ellie whispers to him and he nods, reaching up to rub at his jaw as I feel my head start to spin, nausea bubbling in my throat.

"Yeah, she should." He whispers, pressing the back of his hand to my forehead before clicking his tongue, looking to the kid. "C'mon kid. Show her the ropes."

Ellie's laugh snaps me out of my thoughts, the fond smile on my lips returning to a normal thin line and I feel eyes on me as my head turns. Ellie and Joel are looking at me, forks in the air as they share a careful look and a laugh.

"What're you thinking about?" Joel asks with a curious, calm smile, a completely different expression than what he gave off when we first met. He's no longer stern and guarded around me, instead softening a bit and he's finally allowed himself to laugh around me.

"When we met." I shrug, nudging him with my elbow as I take a loud slurp of my soup, but the mellow tone is torn to shreds by Ellie's crude laugh, her spoon slapping down on the table while she looks between the two of us.

"You mean when you guys fell madly in love?" I feel my cheeks warm at her observation, an honest one at that, and I feel the butterflies return to my stomach as I sneak a glance at Joel who's blushing as red as a fire truck.

"Shut it, Ellie." He mutters and her eyes roll, hands raising in surrender.

"Oh I'm sorry for calling out the elephant in the room."

[honeybeefae]

can i request a newly mated highlord!rhys x highlady!reader fic with them going to the illyrian camps bc they have business to take care of, they still don’t like rhysand bc of his fae side and while walking through the camps she hears some illyrians insult him. Since they’re newly-mated reader can’t stop herself from destroying them. PROTECTIVE READER😍😍😍

um yes 100% this is AWESOME.

Touched Nerves (Rhysand x Reader)

The sound of men grunting and rain pouring was the only greeting you got as you strolled through the camps with your mate, the High Lord of the Night Court.

Now that you were an official High Lady you saw it as your duty to go along to these meetings with Rhys even if he insisted you stayed home. He had been nervous the week leading up, knowing how brute Illyrian men were and how new the bond still was.

Rhysand had told you he was worried that he would end up slitting someone's throat if they even dared to look in your direction but no one could have predicted you'd be the one who was hot-tempered.

"There's the High Lord," A sarcastic male voice chortled as you passed them by, your mate more focused on his conversation with the generals than whatever anyone was saying. You, however, were all ears. "Walking with his newest lay. Did you hear he made her High Lady?

"It's cause Rhysand is too much of a bitch to rule himself." Another male snarked, missing your glare as you glanced at them. "I'm sure she rules over him in the court and bedroom. He always was one to hide behind his mother's skirts."

Your fists clenched in anger as you tried to control yourself. You were always protective of Rhysand's reputation, hating that people didn't know the real him, but with this mating bond, it seemed that that protectiveness had grown tenfold.

"His mother, his sister, and now his mate too. He ain't no real Illyrian." The first one sneered. "He's nothing but a trait-"

You had the Illyrian male in your grasp before he could finish his sentence, your nails digging into the skin of his neck as he desperately clawed at your hand.

"He is everything you wish you were. He's got more Illyrian fight and blood in him than you have in your toes." You emphasized as you dug your heel down into his foot, a sadistic side of you enjoying the way he whimpered and wriggled. "You'll be good to remember that next time you come face to face with someone who could easily wipe you off the face of the Earth, someone like me."

Your nails dug further into his neck and the animalistic side of you wanted to rip out his larynx for even daring to speak ill of your mate. The two men beside him watched on in horror and awe as you easily lifted the mail into the air.

"I suggest you find your dignity that is now in the dirt and apologize to your High Lord, to your leader." You said before throwing him backward, straightening your spine and brushing off your clothes. "Now."

A rush of cool night air blew next to you and you immediately relaxed when you looked to see Rhys smirking, his eyes dancing with amusement as he took in the scene before him.

"Well," Rhys waved a hand to the man, cocking an eyebrow. "I'm waiting."

"I'm-" The man began, red blood marred all over his neck as if he had just been mauled. "I'm sorry, High Lord." He said through gritted teeth, his stare colder than death as he turned and took off into the sky.

The other men followed but not before sending nasty looks your way, one of them mumbling something under their breath. You took a step forward as if to follow but stopped when you felt Rhys's hand wrap around your wrist.

"Shhh, darling. It's alright. Let them go." He murmured into your ear, pulling you close to wrap his arms around your midriff. "You protected my honor courageously. I would hate for you to stew in this."

"But they were rude to you, rude to me as if you had done nothing for them." You argued, turning to face him with a pouted lip. "I just wanted to protect your name. I don't like it when other people speak of you like they know you. Like they know what you've been through."

"I care what no one thinks but you." He assured, tilting your head up so that he could gaze adoringly into your eyes. "You are all I care about, darling. No one else."

You blushed and he smiled, kissing your forehead softly before turning to start back down the path. He held his hand in yours, keeping your body close, as he snickered and said, "Though it was nice to see you kick his ass."

[estherdedlock]

There’s a delicious theory going around that the Greek class wasn’t responsible for Harry McRee’s death...which of course, would render everything that happened afterwards all the more dreadful. I’ve been turning this over in my head and I’ve cooked up two different scenarios.

First, let’s recall what Henry remembers:

I heard something behind me, or someone, and I wheeled around...and swung at whatever it was---a large, indistinct, yellow thing---with my closed fist...I felt a terrible pain in my knuckles and then, almost instantly, something knocked the breath right out of me. It was dark, you understand; I couldn’t really see. I swung out again with my right, hard as I could and with all my weight behind it, and this time I heard a loud crack and a scream...I looked down at my hand and saw it was covered with blood, and worse than blood. Then Charles stepped forward and saw that it was a man. He was dead...He had on a yellow plaid shirt...and his neck was broken, and, unpleasant to say, his brains were all over his face.

Henry goes on to recount that Charles and Francis all remember different things, and Camilla seemingly has no memory of what happened at all, although her hair is drenched in blood.

Scenario 1: McRee Was Killed by Someone Else We’re told (via the Hampden Examiner) that McRee had “several  enemies” among the local poultry farmers, so it’s possible he may have been attacked by one of them. Maybe McRee survived the assault but was stumbling around his property, mortally wounded, when he had the misfortune to run into the Greek class and they inadvertently finished him off. The Examiner described McRee’s body as badly “mutilated,” so whatever the Greek class did to him would have covered up the real murder. Regardless, the Greek kids would still have been responsible for McRee’s death. If you run into someone who’s been the victim of a brutal crime, your responsibility is to help them, not finish beating them to death. All the same, it’s fascinating to speculate that McRee’s death was part of a whole different cycle of violence that had nothing to do with Henry et al, but in which fate ensnared them and triggered a whole new, pre-ordained cycle of violence. Or, to quote Aeschylus in the Oresteia: “Where will this frenzy of evil end?”

Scenario 2: McRee Was Killed by Something Else The group claims to recall the presence of a fifth person that night, but no one can say who it was. What if it wasn’t a  person, but a large wild animal, specifically, a mountain lion...a catamount? An animal that big could very well feel like another person in the dark, especially to a bunch of kids who were out of their minds. Supporting this theory is the very deep bite that Charles suffers that night, which is referred to several times with awe by the rest of the group. “Four inches around and the teeth marks just gouged in,” says Francis. “Looks like that deer took a plug out of your arm,” says Bunny. Would a wildcat take a chunk out of someone without killing them? Possibly. Might the same wildcat get frightened away by something, but then come across another human later and attack them? Perhaps a poultry farmer out on his property for a midnight stroll?

Henry says he saw a “large, indistinct yellow thing,” and then “something knocked the breath right out of me.” We jump to the conclusion the “yellow thing” must have been McRee’s flannel shirt, because Henry tells us that’s what McRee was wearing. But a large, tawny mountain lion might also look yellow in the moonlight. Henry never says that he felt a person hit him. The “something” that “knocked the breath” out of Henry could very well have been the animal taking off into the woods...after mauling McRee to death.

In this scenario, McRee would have already been dead when Henry stumbled into the scene. The “loud crack and a scream” that Henry heard could have been anything -- maybe Henry actually punched the lion and drove it off. What follows next, though, is pretty indisputable: The kids set about mutilating McCree’s body. There’s a vast difference between desecrating a corpse and murdering someone, but unfortunately, it hardly matters to the outcome. Tearing into McRee’s body would have destroyed evidence of a wild animal attack, leaving the group as the apparent killers. Without any clear memory of what really happened that night, the kids believe themselves guilty, so what they do to Bunny is inevitable...but all the more tragic if they never actually killed McCree themselves.

A seemingly unimportant incident occurs near the end of the book:

We were rounding a corner. Suddenly, in the wash of the headlights, a large animal loomed in my path. I hit the brakes hard. For half a moment I found myself looking through the windshield at a pair of glowing eyes. Then, in a flash, it bounded away.   We sat for a moment, shaken, at full stop.   “What was that?” said Francis.   “I don’t know. A deer maybe.”   “That wasn’t a deer.”   “Then a dog.”   “It looked like some kind of a cat to me.”   Actually, that was what it had looked like to me too. “But it was too big,” I said.   “Maybe it was a cougar or something.”   “They don’t have those around here.”   “They used to. They called them catamounts. Cat-o-the-Mountain. Like Catamount Street in town.”   The night breeze was chilly. A dog barked somewhere. There wasn’t much traffic on that road at night.   I put the car in gear.

So...what is this? A random bit of eerie atmospherics from Ms. Tartt? I don’t know. There seems to be very little in TSH that is random.

Perhaps she is, in fact, slyly pointing us in the direction of McCree’s real killer. Telling us, with hint after maddening hint, that even though the eventual outcome of that night in the woods would have been no different, fate is all the more cruel because the murder, which was a catalyst for everything that happened afterwards, was never even a murder at all.

[changenameno]

My Own (Chapter 9)

Summary:

Geralt finds himself once more on the path, gloomily looking at what lies ahead.And you? You had no one, no home and certainly no coin. Well that’d be something you had in common. No coin. You two are surely off to a great start…

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Fem. Nymph Reader

Warnings: 18+,cursing, blood, near death, angsty but good ending for this chapter, injury, second last chapter, MDNI (smut in the next chapter)

Word count: 2K

A/N: Also a little heads up, this story is coming to a close. So there will be only one more chapter ( and finally the smut I teased you with🤭😉). As always it’s not proofread, any mistakes are my own. Please be kind, comments/rebblogs are much appreciated…Thank you❤️✨

!The Witcher characters and world are not mine!

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(In case you’ve missed CHAPTER 8)

CHAPTER 9

When he opened his eyes, his whole body felt like lead, trying to pull him back under, but he fought against the deep sleepiness attempting to drown him.

 

 

He slipped between unconsciousness and half wakefulness, hearing someone talking next to him. Though he only understood snippets of what was being said.

 

“Fuck…Geralt…no…not like this.”

“Please!”

“Stay awake, damn it…”

“You have to wait for…”

 

“Will be back…saved you…got to thank…”

 

 

Jaskier was sick with worry, not just because of Geralt but because of you as well. Why hadn’t you returned yet?

What if you were…? He stopped his thoughts right there, he could not think about that or he would completely succumb to panic.

 

 

You had saved them. Transformed into a wolf, despite the danger of maybe never turning back. Then you had attacked the monstrosity twice.

The second time you had sunken your teeth into its black fur, desperately trying to get it away from the witcher, who was lying on the ground unprotected. And you had succeeded, though not quick enough to doge this time, the werewolf’s claws had sliced you across the snout, blood running over your own quite terrifying maw.

 

When it had lunged again, you sidestepped its attack. Sure to aggravate it enough, you snapped at the monster repeatedly, so it would follow you, and only you. Trying to lead it far, far away from the injured witcher and himself.

 

Though now it had been at least four hours since your disappearance, making him feel sick to the stomach. He couldn’t even do anything for Geralt, as the blood continued to pool beside his body.

 

 

Jaskier had prayed for your return, though slowly but surely he was giving up hope on ever seeing you again, as the night turned into early morning.

The first sun rays shining down, as if this particular morning wasn’t reeking of blood, despair and death. As if it was just like another lovely morning and he wasn’t about to lose his best friend.

 

 

Then there was loud, heavy panting. He immediately looked down at Geralt, though he was still only breathing shallowly, chest barely even moving at all. So he was definitely not the source of the loud breathing.

As the panting grew closer, Jaskier closed his eyes, giving himself over to the inevitable. The werewolf was back, surely about to maul him.

 

 

Suddenly a small, warm hand landed on his shoulder, making him flinch so violently, one could have thought a bear’s paw pressed down on him.

 

 

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Jaskier whirred around on his knees, blue eyes frantic when they landed on your bloodied face.

 

He swiftly pulled you down, in a rather painful hug,” Fuck…I’m so glad to see you.”

 

 

You whimpered lightly, because the hug aggravated your wounds. He quickly loosened his grip, inspecting your battered body closer. “S-sorry, are you…are you alright?”

 

 

You winced a little at the question, as blood still dripped down your cheek and nose, “Well no…not really.” At his teary eyes, you added, “But I will be. And he looks worse. Got…got to help him.”

 

Your own eyes skimmed over Geralt’s unconscious body, he looked extremely pale and the large accumulation of blood below him, made you feel nauseous.

 

 

“But you’re wounded, you should re-…”

 

 

“I’ll rest, after I’ve helped him.” Jaskier wanted to argue, but you shut him up, when you continued sternly, “Saddlebacks. His potions. Get them.” He looked at you doubtfully and rightfully so, because you could barely hold yourself up on your knees, you still pleaded, “Jask, please.”

 

That finally made him move. He was back by your side with all the potions rolled up in a special little bag. You scooted closer to Geralt, whimpering quietly as the minimal movement, wracked havoc and set your pain receptors on fire. Though you ignored your screaming body, starting to murmur lowly, while using a mixture of different potions.

 

 

The bard watched you, as your magic began to work. The flesh of Geralt’s shredded torso slowly started to close, then the wound was gone as if it had never existed in the first place. Jaskier saw that his chest finally seemed to move normally again.

 

Though he was now more worried about you. You had stopped murmuring and had taken a swig of one of the potions yourself. When you turned to look at him, your eyes were already half-closed, slurring, “‘ave to sl-sleep this off.”

 

 

Then you crumbled down, but he had prevented you from face palming into the ground, as he had caught you just in time. Jaskier carefully lay you down, next to the witcher then proceeded to put a blanket over the both of you. Beyond relieved that you two would be alright.

 

 

He knew you couldn’t hear him, though he still felt the need to whisper, “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

 

 

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It had been a few very slow and painful days, after you had woken up. On the first day, your wounds weren’t healed completely just yet. But you had been able to sip a bit of water before falling into a deep slumber again.

 

 

“…gonna be alright, you’ll see.”

 

Was the first thing you heard, when you woke up a second time.

Amber eyes flew to your face, at the little whimper you had let out as you had started to sit up.

 

 

Geralt was kneeling by your side, hand gently placed on your back, assisting you in sitting up.

Voice low, barely a whisper, “Careful now, don’t want the wound to open up again.”

 

 

You looked at him bewildered, “What?”

 

 

He looked nearly pained, when he explained, “Well…it really got you there on your side. And it seems like it won’t heal, at least not completely.”

 

 

You held onto his biceps with one hand, while you lifted your blouse with the other, until you saw what he meant. A deep gash on your left side, reached from your hip up to the middle of your ribcage. It was strange that it hadn’t closed yet, but at least that explained why you were still in pain.

 

 

“Well fuck…”

 

Geralt felt terrible, you didn’t deserve to be scarred for life. Especially not because he had been too unprecise with his sword. It was clearly his fault.

 

 

His dark eyebrows were drawn together in thought, when you let the fabric fall again. You were glad he seemed to be fine and just that alone was worth all the pain and destress.

In the spur of the moment you reached up to cup his chin. That seemed to do the trick, as his cat like eyes widened and looked down at your smiling face.

 

“You know I’ll be just fine.” You could feel him relax into your touch, which made you realize how close you two were.

 

 

Warmth began pooling in his belly, at your careful touch and the softness in your eyes. They were screaming forgiveness and a little something else, when your tongue briefly swiped across your lips. The urge to press his rough ones to your softly looking lips, was overpowering, so he began leaning in. Though not too quickly, wanting to give you enough time to pull back, if you’d want to.

 

 

Geralt’s whole demeanor had shifted, after you had said that and then he started leaning in, as if he had read your thoughts. Very slowly his face got closer. Actually too slow, not being able to hold back any longer you leaned in the rest of the way. He let out a surprised grunt, when your lips pressed against his. Though he quickly recovered and reciprocated the kiss.

 

 

The kiss felt electrifying, your lips were even softer than he had remembered them to be.

 

 

Unfortunately it didn’t last too long, as a certain bard interrupted you two, “Uuuh my…the two love birds together at last.”

 

 

Geralt wasn’t having none of that, he had pulled back, but only to throw a nearby branch at Jaskier. Who grunted when it hit him in the shin, but began giggling loudly anyway.

 

 

As the moment was now gone, you squeezed Geralt’s biceps, to let him know you wanted to stand up.

 

Worried you might fall, he helped you and only removed his hands from your back, when he was sure you wouldn’t.

 

It felt surprisingly good to simply stand up, after days of lying and sleeping.

 

Jaskier always the curious one, immediately asked, “So how did you do it? What happened?”

 

 

Both looked at you expectantly, when you didn’t start talking right away. The witcher offered you some more water, which you thankfully took, before beginning to explain what happened once you had lead the werewolf away.

 

 

“I knew I had to keep him busy until daybreak and that’s what I did.”

 

 

Geralt didn’t seem happy with the short explanation and raised a dark brow in disbelief, “There is more to it though. I looked for the werewolf, but couldn’t find a trace of it. So what happened?”

 

 

You shrugged your shoulders as if it was obvious, though hissing a little because the motion still hurt, “Well after he had finally turned back, I gave him a neckless.”

When you stopped again, as if that had been explanation enough, Jaskier grew impatient, “Yeah sure, so he’d look prettier, next time he nearly kills you?!”

 

 

You couldn’t help yourself and chuckled, but stopped the second your left side started to burn as if on fire.

Two sets of worried eyes on your pained grimace, but you waved your hand, “I’m alright. And no, it was a silver neckless with a special charm.”

 

Geralt nodded in understanding, “Ah so he’s not going to turn again, if he keeps wearing it.”

 

 

You shook your head, yes, then Jaskier approached and hugged your uninjured side gently, breathing against your hair, “You know, how amazing you are? Saving him, despite nearly dying in the process. Though I’m very happy you didn’t, darling.”

 

He still beamed at you when he stepped back, then he went over to Roach, who nuzzled his hand when he started petting her.

 

 

The witcher had observed your interaction with the bard and had to agree, so he began stumbling over his words, “You know…,” when you gazed at him lovingly, his brain stopped working all together, “um… you know…that…well…”

 

It was, as if your beauty had stunned him once again, overriding his thought process with just your gorgeous smile.

 

 

Jaskier didn’t hold back with the teasing, “Oooh, that’s just painful to watch. You witchters are real smooth talkers, huh?”

 

If glares could kill, the bard would have melted from the heated one he was now receiving from Geralt. You bit your bottom lip, trying not to laugh. Instead you opted to change the subject, “Um… I um… we need to head in that direction next.” Finger pointing in the direction, where you could sense a waterfall.

 

 

The sudden change of subject, puzzled the bard enough, he forgot he was in the middle of mocking Geralt, “What? Why? That’s in the opposite direction of the nearby town?”

 

“There is water there?” Jaskier looked at you, as if you’d lost your mind.

 

Without a word Geralt pointed at the full water-skin in your hands and you quickly explained, “Ah no, um not for drinking. For the wound, I sort of need it to heal.”

 

 

“Then that’s where we will go.”

 

Even though the witcher sounded final in his statement, Jaskier started, “Oh yeah as lovely as that sounds, I think it’s sufficient when Geralt is the one escorting you, right? I mean I don’t want to abandon you or anything, you’re way too precious for that darling. But…but I think a warm bed in a tavern in that nearby town is calling my name.”

 

Then he mumbled, “Beside anymore attempts at flirting from him and I may die from second hand embarrassment.” Geralt clearly was about to say something clever back, but you were quicker.

 

 

“That sounds like a plan. So we’ll meet you back in that town then?”

 

 

Jaskier happy you had agreed to his suggestion so readily, chirped,” Perfect. So I’ll see you soon.”

 

 

Once you three had packed up, though you weren’t allowed to do much as Geralt had prohibited you to do anything to worsen the pain, you said your goodbyes to Jaskier.

 

When he hugged the witcher he dared to wink, “You are welcome. Don’t fuck it up though.”

Swiftly sidestepping the fist about to meet his ribs. Then he waved at you, now a save distance away from the glaring witcher and was on his merry way to town. While you, Geralt and Roach headed in the direction of the waterfall.

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Taglist:

If you’re interested in being on my taglist, please let me know! And if you want to be taken off (my taglist), feel free to tell me!❤️✨

[ravens-and-rust]

WASTE DISPOSAL || MAUL.EXE STARTING UP … PLEASE WAIT … RUNNING DIAGNOSTICS … … … TACTILE SENSORS ONLINE. OPTICS ONLINE. VOICEBOX ONLINE. MOTILITY ONLINE. AUDITORY SYSTEMS ONLINE. OLFACTORY SENSORS ONLINE. MAUL.EXE BOOT UP SUCCESSFUL.

  Maul's eyes blinked open as notifications and pop-up windows exploded across her HUD, notifying her of her prolonged inactivity and her need for sustenance. Her joints twitched uncomfortably as she unfolded herself from the position she'd fallen asleep in: knees to her chest, arms curled around her torso, all three toe claws tightly curled to avoid snagging anything...it was uncomfortable. She hissed as her tail unwound behind her and opened the curtain to her little nest, blinding her light-sensitive eyes with the disgusting glow of sunlight. The corner of her HUD told her it was 6:47 in the evening; just about time for the sun to go down. Her teeth clacked together as she opened and shut her jaw, grumbling lowly and slithering her way out of her small enclosure.

  The tall wall of windows illuminated her as she padded past, throwing her shadow across the floor like a thick, black carpet. Her casing glowed with an unnatural, oozing hue of sunset orange, so far off from her own colour scheme that she paused for a second to admire herself. She dragged a claw up her calf, crooning softly at the bold colours of the evening.   "You're an interesting DCA model," said a gruff voice from behind her. Her head whipped around so fast that her rays rattled in their housings. She felt every wire in her body pull taut as she examined the voice's owner. Another Eclipse, from the looks of it, but...with pants, flat feet, and a third arm. He had one arm held aloft, some kind of screen illuminating his face with blue-toned light; a hand hovered over it as if he was typing. His emotes also seemed to be on, and he was watching her warily. Her tail lashed as she slid into a defensive position, claws digging into the linoleum and mouth pulling back into a razor-bearing sneer. There was another machine in her territory, and he stank of rust, iron, and oil. He'd killed recently.   "You smell like death," she growled, her programming urging her to move forward, to attack, to pin him down and sink her teeth into his upper left arm and yank. She resisted, though, instincts telling her he could easily wipe the floor with her oil. She could feel the last remains of the day sliding down her body as the sun set, and she could finally see the bot in front of her properly. Scarlet and raven casings, sickly saffron-yellow teeth, three ebony and sunset eyes, and vibrant orange vanes that sine-waved slowly as he assessed the danger she displayed.   "So do you," the eclipse replied calmly, looking her up and down and fixing her with a pointed stare. "You also look like a walking, talking caution sign, though, so I'm going to assume you're a hostile machine."   Well, duh. She returned his stare with her own, raising and lowering her tail spines in thought. This model clearly wasn't from anywhere near, not with his strange choice of clothing and body type.   "I suppose you could say that," she rumbled, her mouth snapping shut a few times and filling the space with clicking noises. "You look like a Dorito."   The other didn't seem to like that; in fact, he winced at the comparison. "I am not," he paused, pointing at Maul with a clawed finger, "a Dorito."   She grinned. "You look like you're spicy nacho-flavoured."   "Well, I'm not, so don't get any ideas," the eclipse grumbled, lowering the arm with the screen. As if it detected that he was done with it, it shut off, leaving just red and black ombre in its place. Maul couldn't help but wonder how easily his arm would crunch in her jaws. "Considering my computer told me that you're a cannibal."   "What's...a can-ni-bal?" she asked, her posture tensing further. Was it something negative; was he insulting her?   The eclipse's expression soured further. "It's someone who eats their own kind."   Her own kind. Her own kind!? She was alone, actually, thank you very much, Mr. Mysterious! She was the only one like her; her cousins--Mouse and Mutt--were built differently and only fed on human flesh. They weren't as resilient as she, they weren't as bold as she, and they needed to be protected. She was fine all by herself, and she made that known.   Her claws clacked against the linoleum as she got into the male's personal space. Her size outmatched his at least two-to-one. "I am my own kind," she spat, narrowing her eyes and hissing steam from her vents in irritation. "I am the only one of me."   "No, you misunderstood." His demeanour stayed calm and collected despite the monstrous animatronic that stank of blood and oil hovering over him.   "How."   "I meant your kind as metal; machinery; needs electricity to work. Not you specifically. Like how I, Eclipse, am of the same metal as you."   Ah, so his name was Eclipse. How...original. She backed away, growling deep in her throat, and sat a few feet from him. "Then, yes, I suppose I am a cannibal. What of it?"

[beanhardy]

Hold Me Tight and Tender

One shot : Peeta x reader

Angst😡 small bit of fluff ❤️

Peeta wakes up from a nightmare, but you’re here to keep him safe.

His lungs burn, legs ache and head throbs. The deep gash on Peeta’s forehead slowly gushing with blood, flowing down his brow and into his eyes blurring his vision. He’s severely out of breath and feels light headed. He knows he can’t stop because if he does it means certain death.

The mutt chasing behind him is getting closer by the second and the rocky terrain of the arena is not making running any easier for him. Peeta can feel the mutts teeth grab a hold of his shirt ripping the back. Peeta’s exhaustion is getting to him. He fights the aching pain in his muscles to keep going, the adrenaline and fear being the only thing keeping him going.

But it’s not enough, he’s not fast enough, strong enough to stay alive. Each time the mutt tries to bite at him he can feel and hear it get closer and closer. Ahead of Peeta is a cliff. A dead end. He’s not going to make it. Will he jump and fall to his death? Or stop and be mauled by the capitols mutts? He doesn’t have the luxury of time to decide so he jumps. At least he’ll be in less pain right? He won’t be ripped apart limb from limb like a lamb for slaughter.

Just as he jumps he hears a familiar voice shouting his name from afar, “PEETA WAKE UP PEETA!”.

Peeta is drenched in sweat and tears thrashing in his sleep. You wrestle his sleeping form to try and pin him down. He could hurt himself or even you. “PEETA WAKE UP PEETA!”. He shoots up from his lying position and screams at the top of his lungs “HELP ME PLEASE”. His sobbing figure shakes in fear still not filling realising it was just a really bad nightmare. You reach for him once more holding him in a vice grip. His head in your hand laying against your chest, your other hand wrapped around his back. “Peeta shhhhh, please my love you’re home, you’re safe, you’re not in the arena anymore”, you reassure him sternly. Peeta sobs in your arms, shaking like a leaf. The sound of his cries breaks your heart every time.

You wish you could take away his pain. It’s all you’ve ever wanted, but the best you can do right now is be there for him during his nightmares. His sobs start to quiet down and you revert to rocking him gently, stroking his drenched hair to try calm him down even more. You can tell his breathing is starting to regulate. You start singing a soft tune for him to fully calm down.

“Are you, are you, coming to the tree? Where they strung up a man, they say, who murdered three”

Your voice slowly trailed off as you finished the song. Peeta’s crying had stoped and his breathing was back to normal. You gave him a reassuring kiss to his sweaty forehead. You hear a hoarse “thank you” coming from the man in your arms, “I woke you up didn’t I? I’m sorry y/n ”. You let out a heartbroken chuckle in response. Your sweet boy just had a horrific nightmare and he’s worried about waking you up? Nobody’s deserves this man yet somehow he thinks you do. “Never apologise for having a nightmare Peeta”, you reply to him.

He looks up at you from under your chin, his head puffy and red from crying. Looking down at him you feel your heart break all over again. For the boy he used to be, unharmed by torture of the capitol. You give him another gentle kiss this time of his lips. It’s sweet but holds a lot of yearning at the same time. Yearning for comfort and safety. For your warmth. You hear Peeta’s broken voice say to you, “please keep singing, it makes me feel better”. You happily oblige, willing to do anything to make your man feel better. It’s the least he deserves.

“Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be. If we met at midnight in the hanging tree.”

[macravishedbymactavish]

Friday (Alex Keller x F!Reader)

| Blog HQ | Modern Warfare 2019 / 2022 Masterlist |

| No use of Y/N | 18+ MDNI | Taglist Open |

Submission #2 for the Alex Keller Challenge - hosted by the amazing @glitterypirateduck

TW for : Steamy make out session (nothing graphic) - semi public and getting caught. OC Keller family.

Prompts Used:

Don't look at me like that

I told you it was a terrible idea [I told you this is a terrible idea]

This is by far the dumbest thing we've done

You wanted this as much as I did [you want this as much as I do]

“What's the worst that would happen?” You whispered, elbow resting on his shoulder as you two whispered back and forth. Your lip caught between your teeth as he stared at the ground, shaking his head.

“Someone catches us? A bear mauls us to death? Trying to explain how we both got poison ivy up in our business.” He whispered back, convincing himself that sneaking off from the campsite would be a terrible idea. Especially since his entire family was present, including his neices and nephew's.

“Then we keep it PG. We don't risk Poison ivy burns, or the wildlife catching us with our pants down.” You shrugged, standing from your spot as you started walking toward the cabin his parents owned. Smirking as you heard him softly cuss, jumping up to follow you to the back.

“You're terrible.” Alex sighed, rolling his eyes as you smiled at him. Tilting your head slightly as you studied his features. “Don't look at me like that.”

“Like what?!” You laughed, reaching up to rest your hand on his chest. Rubbing over the fabric slightly with your thumb.

“With the bedroom eyes.” He groaned, laying a hand over yours. Eyes moving over your figure as he actively reminded himself of the time he fell into poison ivy as a child. The discomfort he felt as he swore he'd never let it happen again.

“Well sorry, let me just pop my eyes out and replace them with my campsite eyes.” You teased, any further teasing cut short by his mouth gently finding yours in a loving kiss.

“This is a bad idea.” He mumbled, despite showing no signs that he wanted to stop.

His mouth moving against yours, the feeling of his hands warming your hips as you backed into the wall of the cabin. Your hands cupping either side of his face, holding him in place as he hummed in content.

“This is a terrible idea.” He whispered once again, barely pulling away. Eyes still closed as his moral compass spun out of control.

You both knew this was risky, you both knew this was to a degree disgusting teenager like behaviour. But the feeling of his body pressed against yours under the warm rays of sun; your personal little bubble of paradise wiped all concern from your mind.

“If it's so bad, why does it feel so good?” You taunted. Sliding one hand to the back of his neck; tugging gently on his hair. Eliciting a soft groan as he pulled you back into a deep kiss.

His hands sliding around your hips, cupping your ass as he pulled you flush against his hips. Kiss filling with fervor as he all but begged between kisses to leave the damn bonfire and continue this at home.

Moving your hips forward, you moaned softly into his mouth. Breath catching in your throat as you felt him pulling you closer, urging your actions on. Riling you up in return, until a small voice ruined the moment.

“Gross!” Pulling apart quickly, faces flushed from both your prior activities and being caught by Alex’s young nephew. “Everyone’s looking for you guys. It's time to eat.”

“Okay, bud. We’ll be over there soon.” Alex sighed, shuffling to stand behind you with an arm around your middle. Pressing his face against your shoulder as the boy immediately ran back to the group, explaining in great detail what he just saw.

“This was by far the stupidest thing we’ve ever done.” Alex groaned, voice muffled by your shirt. Pulling back slightly to readjust before walking back out to where his family sat.

Walking back toward the picnic tables, you called over your shoulder. “You wanted this as much as I did.”

Sitting down at the picnic table, you smiled at the small baby in Ellie's arms. Wiggling your fingers, and chuckling at the squealing laughter you caused.

“So, I'm going to be the cool Auntie sooner than later?” Ellie teased, watching in amusement as your expression fell and cheeks lit up in a deep blush.

“I told you it was a terrible idea!” You heard Alex argue from somewhere behind you.

Taglist: @bloodonmyhands-1221 @v1naco @bowtruckleninja

Alex Keller Taglist: @deadbranch @gcing-back-to-505 @glitterypirateduck