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#plunk extend
thecapricunt1616 · 2 months
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Sunday - (Chef Luca One-Shot)
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𝒮𝓃𝒾𝓅𝓅𝑒𝓉 (𝑀𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝐵𝒯𝒞!): Sunday. The one day a week that Noma is closed. The one day a week that your sweet, sunshiney boy got to stay home with you and ‘rot away in bed together all day’ as you called it which always gave him a good chuckle. But he loved these days, the relaxation and peace of waking up with you and having nothing on his plate felt like a taste of heaven every single week. This Sunday was no different. It was nearing 7 now, so you knew Luca would be up soon. Being the sweetheart you always were to him (since he of course deserved it) you padded quietly into the small kitchen of your shared house boat and clicked on the electric kettle.
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♡ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: It is you & Lucas favorite day of the week, Sunday, Noma is closed and you get to rot all day long in bed together <3 ♡ 𝐖/𝐂: 2.6K+ ♡ 𝐀/𝐍: Helloooooo!!! I am sorry to all those rotting away in my inbox Luca in S3 gave me insatiable brain worms im still working through forgive me!! I hope this Luca yumminess keeps you satiated while I continue working on requests! This man is a sweet fluffy golden retriever in my mind so thats how he's written! Hope you enjoy :D ♡ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐁𝐓𝐂: Fluff, Smut, Unprotected PV sex, Reader has a vagina & is referred to as 'sweet girl', No use of y/n, Size kink (Luca HAS to be hung. like theres no way he isnt.)
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♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡
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Sunday. The one day a week that Noma is closed. The one day a week that your sweet, sunshiney boy got to stay home with you and ‘rot away in bed together all day’ as you called it which always gave him a good chuckle. But he loved these days, the relaxation and peace of waking up with you and having nothing on his plate felt like a taste of heaven every single week. This Sunday was no different. It was nearing 7 now, so you knew Luca would be up soon. Being the sweetheart you always were to him (since he of course deserved it) you padded quietly into the small kitchen of your shared house boat and clicked on the electric kettle. 
You plunked a chai bag in for yourself and an English breakfast tea bag into his mug and grabbed out the cream and honey. That was something he had started ever since you’d been dating. He thought it was strange at first, since his family always put little sugar cubes in his tea but he found it gave it a much more natural tasting sweetness when you added the honey for him. You were sure to get the kettle just before it screeched and heard the sounds of Luca turning over in bed, likely in search of you from where you left him on his side all curled into himself how you often found him after he’d fallen asleep holding you. 
“Darling?” His husky voice called. 
“Coming doll, just putting things away” you explained, putting the cream back in the fridge and cinnamon and honey back in the cupboard before grabbing both steaming mugs and heading back to bed. “Morning handsome” you said and he smiled a bit. 
“Morning love, what do I do to deserve you, hm?” He took his cup, placing it on the nightstand. “I would love to extend my gratitude in a kiss, do you accept?” He asked in that silly way he always knew would make you giggle, and of course you did. 
“I love you, c’mere dork” you set your tea down on your own bedside table and he swiftly pulls you into his lap, kissing all over your face and neck in sweet short pecks. “Oh my gosh! That tickles, Luc!” You laughed, shoulders curling up to save you from his tickle attack. 
“You said you accepted so accept!” He teased, wrapping his strong arms around your middle and kissed your jaw with one dramatic final peck and a mmmuah! Before resting his forehead on your temple and giving you a sweet kunik kiss “love you” he said softly and you felt your cheeks heating, turning and resting your forehead on his. 
“I love you, I think our tea should be drinkable now” you said and he gave you one more gentle peck before leaning against the headboard. 
“Look at that, cinnamon and everything” he said and took a sip from the steaming cup, humming in satisfaction. “Thank you darling” he rested his head back and shut his eyes, and it was your turn now to shower his pretty face in gentle affection, kissing each and every little freckle of his, being sure to kiss along the trail of stubble that had grown since he’d not shaved since yesterday morning. 
“Of course. Have I told you how gorgeous you are in the morning, Chef?” You mused, gently smoothing down his wild locks from the pillows during the night and sometimes nuzzled into your chest, since he was convinced that was the best pillow in the house. 
“You’ve said so before I believe” he joked, peeking an eye open at you adorably as you gently stroked his cheeks with cupped hands. “If you keep stroking me like a pet I’m going to fall back asleep, angel” he took another sip of his tea and this time when he rested his head back you left supple kisses on his closed lids, causing him to smile and blush a bit at the tickle feeling. 
“You deserve some more sleep sweets, nearly 14 hour days this week. My poor love, 80 hours is a killer workweek” you cooed, kissing his temple when he rested his face in the crook of your shoulder nuzzling you adorably and relishing in his well earned and much deserved attention. 
“Thought about you multiple times an hour every one of the 80” he said sweetly, planting a kiss on your collarbone. “And just how bad I missed you” he kissed your neck “in more ways than one” he nibbled just below your pulse point, resting his tea back on the nightstand and soothing over the bite with his tongue, the sting and warmth causing you to let out a small gasp. You couldn’t help the smirk forming on your lips, hand trailing back and finding his hair as you leaned into him. 
“Yeah? You wanna show how much you missed me baby?” You gently tug on his frizzy strands from the night and his warm hand trails over your abdomen, rucking up one of his t-shirts you’d stolen for bed and rubbing his flat warm hand over your belly. 
“I do, may I take these off love?” He thumbs at the waistband of your panties and you smile slightly at his constant need to not waste any time. 
“You can, baby” you lay back on your side of the bed and he swiftly tugs them off before laying between your plush thighs and ravaging them with kisses. You gently scratch his hair and his eyes fall shut as he nuzzled his face into your soft flesh, enjoying the warmth and comfort you offered after such a brutal week in the kitchen. 
“Love you” he mumbled again, before kissing your thigh down, down, down to where you were aching for him most. “Love you more then anything, princess.” He kissed over your nether lips with a gentle movement, easing his tongue on the outside of your folds and smirking into you as he felt you shiver beneath him. 
“Please” you breathe, tugging his hair. 
“I’m gonna take care of you, love. I always do” he spread you out with one of his large tattooed hands, admiring the look of your cunt which always brought heat to your cheeks. “So pretty” he muttered before licking a gentle, flat stripe up your hole that was already dripping wet, over your folds that he flicked with his tongue, up to your clit where he attached his pretty lips and sucked in a way that made your hips twitch and back arch. 
You let out a whiny moan, looking down at him to see his piercing blue eyes melting into yours, cheeks flush with lust as he gauged your every reaction. “Feels -ah- so- so good, Lu- I missed you so much this week fuck” your head dropped back to the pillow in bliss, eyes fluttering shut. He trailed his tongue down, lapping at your cunt while his adorable nose rubbed at your clit like a man starved. “Fuck I’m gonna cum” you gasped, tugging on his hair tighter “please- please fuck me, Lu. Wanna feel you I miss you” 
“Can I make you finish on my mouth, then I’ll fuck you?” He asked in that sweet, innocent way. Like he wasn’t asking about fucking you raw on a Sunday morning and instead was telling someone how many grams of sugar they need in their frosting. A genuine question,with his nose wet from your arousal like a puppy, if you said no he would get right to work. That was something about Luca, he knew his job was overly demanding - so the fact that you wait at home for him to only get a few short hours together before bed every night and this one precious day a week together - he wanted to be sure to give you whatever you wanted. 
“Please” you beg, pushing his face back where it was and moaning out when he continued tonguing your pussy as he rubbed your clit expertly with the bridge of his nose. “So perfect- god you’re so perfect Lu - so so strong, and- and smart- just like that baby” you gasped. He hummed at the praise and you knew his cheeks were gonna be bright pink by the time he finished with all this praise he was getting. “An- so pretty” you spread your thighs further “no one can get me off like you do, baby. I love you” you said and he gave you a wet kiss on your inner thigh in response and thanks for your praise before continuing. 
It wasn’t long until you were whining his name and clenching around his fingers he used to get you ready for him, since neither of you wanted to take things slow this morning and with Luca unless you were going very slow you had to prepare or things could end badly. Safe to say your boyfriend was blessed in his pants many times over, but after 9 months of being together you thankfully had gotten used to the large stretch it gives. “That’s it. What a good girl, sound so pretty when you cum, you know that angel? So beautiful” he cooed in your ear as his fingers worked you through your high, jaw lacks in a silent scream and brows furrowed at the intense pleasure. 
He kissed over your jaw and cheeks, stopping as soon as you whined it was too much. “What do you want darling” he cradled you, kissing your now sweaty forehead as you rested over him in post orgasmic bliss. 
“Want another just- just give me a second” you kiss his jaw lazily and rest your face on his shoulder. Legs and core still twitching every so often from your comedown “felt so good Lu, so good” you mumble, kissing his warm skin. 
“Yeah? I’m glad baby that’s what I’m here for” he rubbed your side lovingly and kissed the top of your warm head. “I’m ready for you whenever you are love, however you want mm?” He squeezed your hips gently. 
“Wanna ride you, you look so pretty under me” you said, eyes still closed and nuzzled in his neck so you couldn’t see the way his cock twitched - more like jumped - in his boxerbriefs - or how his blush extended all the way down to his toned chest. 
“Okay baby. But remember it’s ok if you can’t take it all, yeah?” He kissed your head gently and you look up at him through your lashes, nodding obediently. 
“But I still wanna try” you said softly. He cupped your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your jaw 
“You’re always so good to me, Angel” he gave your nose a gentle kiss and you giggled shyly, taking his hand and kissing his palm. 
“No that’s you. Cmon lay down pretty boy, it’s my turn to take over” you joked and sat up on your knees while he shuffled down getting comfortable on his back with a smile. 
“There’s lubricant in the side draw” he told you, resting his hands behind his head comfortably and you laughed, shaking your head and he looks at you. 
“What? What’s funny?” He asked and you giggle more.
“Lubricant. Its lube you British weirdo” you teased and he rolled his eyes with an amused smile, shaking his head 
“If I made fun of your accent nearly as much as you made fun of mine I don’t think you’d be very happy” he joked and you pulled open his bedside table, taking out said lube and setting it on the tabletop. 
“Cause I don’t have an accent. You're the one with an accent” you kissed his neck, gently nipping over bites that had healed from last Sunday as you trailed one of your hands into his boxers and tugged out his length, not caring to take them off since you were already straddling him. 
“Actually you would be the only one I know here that has an accent darling - strangely we don’t get many tourists around Noma” he teased as you squirted some lube into your palm before stroking him in your hand and he grunted softly “shit” he muttered and you smiled teasingly 
“From what I’ve been told, by you is that you love my accent and you think it’s sexy” you smiled, lining him up and sinking down just about half way, using his chest as leverage. “Fuckin hell Lu-“ you hissed at the stretch, and he grabbed one of your hands, bringing it to his lips. 
“You don’t have to go all the way-“ he reminded you and you shook your head 
“I can fucking take it” you breathed, giving yourself a moment before sinking down another inch and he let out a moan 
“Ok- fuck- just- just don’t hurt yourself babe” he said, his breath coming out as warm comforting puffs over your intertwined fingers. 
“Feels so good- I just- let me move a little” you said and squeezed his hand as you slowly and gently move up and down over what you already had inside and you both moan in tandem, heads falling back and your thighs shaking at the overwhelming pleasure. “So fucking big” you gasp as you sat on him fully, pelvis’ flush together and he looks down, the sight alone causing his cock to twitch inside of you. 
“Jesus fuckin Christ” he looks up at you “how’s it feel?” He asked. You could barely even speak through the mind numbing pleasure that came with taking all of Luca. So instead you just take his palm and press it against your lower belly, beginning to ride him slow and careful and his mouth drops as he feels himself rutting in and out of you beneath his hand. 
“See how big you are, Lu? I can feel you in my stomach” you said hotly in his ear and he groans, grabbing the flesh of your ass and helping you move 
“I’m gonna cum- fuck you’re so warm darling I can’t-“ he moaned out and you giggled, kissing his jaw gently 
“So let go baby” you move yourself a bit quicker and harder with his help, squeaking when you felt the tip of his cock kiss your cervix lightly, jolting at the sharp sensation and clenching around him 
“Did I hurt you?” He asked quickly, slowing his movements and you shook your head bracing yourself on his shoulders and throwing your ass back on him harder - being sure to angle him up more so that wouldn’t happen 
“No- just happens sometimes when you’re big” you assured him and rolled your hips in a way that made his stomach clench and hand tighten around your wrist 
“Wow” he said, eyes nearly rolling back. You smiled at your newfound move and continued the action, alternating between quick and slow circles and he was sounding so pretty beneath you, whimpering “I’m- I’m gonna cum- fuck - Angel- can’t- i can’t” his breath becoming more ragged and tense. 
“Yeah? You wanna cum inside me. You gonna fill me up sweet boy?” You coo, kissing his neck and nipping gently. With a hot moan and a snap of his hips he was spilling inside of you, whispering the dirtiest filth in your ear of how no other girl has been able to take him how you do, and how your body was made for him and him only. Which of course brought you to the crux of your next orgasm and he just had to lightly play with your clit for a moment before you were crying out for him once again. 
Safe to say this activity was quickly added to the weekly Sunday roster.
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ourfatherwhoartinhell · 2 months
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Perfectly Misaligned (Dewdrop Blurb)
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Prompt: "I guess it goes to show, does it not? That we've no idea what we've got… until we lose it" Word count: 504 Warnings: None that I can think of?
Dewdrop is struggling with his new element. It's stopping him from doing things he wants to / used to.
A/N: Prompt given to me by @sister-nyx - I'm sorry it's so short! I hope it still meets your expectations! Also sorry it took so long to get to! If there's spelling or grammar mistakes, just ignore them. I did not proof read this.
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Dewdrop never really knew how deeply his element change had scarred him. Yes there were the physical scars, and the obvious change in personality from Water to Fire. However, through the first tour, he took it in stride. He loved the new boost of confidence almost as much as he loved annoying Copia and Aether on stage.
The first tour as a new fire ghoul was bliss.
The second tour was when things really started to unravel. He tried to join Rain in the hotel pool, and ended up almost drowning. When he tried to share a bath with Swiss, he ended up almost boiling the poor multi-ghoul alive. Turning the bathtub into a giant bubbling ghoul soup. Laying out in a storm one day gave him hypothermia so bad that Aether had to put him on bedrest for a week - apart from playing shows.
At first, Dew thought that it was just because he wasn’t used to his new element yet. Unable to fully control it. He knew these things didn’t bother Ifrit or Alpha the same way, he had seen them get caught in the rain or sharing a bath with Zephyr and Omega.
What he didn’t know was that when his element shifted, it meant that he was more intolerant to water. Aether, not having dealt with a ghoul switching elements before, also had no idea.
When they got back from the last tour, Aether had found him sitting by the lake behind the Abbey, skipping burning stones over the water's surface.
“Whatcha doin, little spark?”
Dew barely acknowledged him, skipping another stone into the lake.
Aether already knew he was sulking before he got close, a gift of his quintessence. Dew was sitting there, emitting waves of sadness that extended for miles.
“Anything you want to talk about?”
Dew groaned in frustration as the next rock made a ‘plunk!’ and sank straight to the bottom. “No.”
“It’s about your element isn’t it?”
“....maybe.” Dew sighed and finally turned to look at Aether. “I thought it was just because I can’t really control it very well, but I can’t do anything I used to love anymore. It’s like I’m allergic to myself.”
Aether smiled fondly at the little ghoul and knocked shoulders with him before taking the stone from his hand and skipping one along the lake.
“I might not know exactly why these things are happening, but I can tell you it’s not an allergy.”
Dew hung his head as his tiny body began to shake, a burning tear slipping from his eye. “I guess it just goes to show, that we don’t know what we’ve got… until we’ve lost it.”
Aether looked sympathetically at the smaller ghoul before wrapping his arms around him comfortingly. 
“You may have lost that part of you, but you’ve gained a lot of new parts too. You may not be the ghoul you were before, but trust me. The ghoul you are right now is still you. Maybe a little misaligned, but perfectly misaligned.”
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justtuffithinkabout · 9 months
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So I just got around to watching the first of the Lord of the Rings movies (extended edition of course) and they made me realize just how much Gandalf's death must've weighed on Pippin.
Like, when they come out of Moria, you see Pippin curled up on the ground with Merry holding him and at first you think "that's so sad look how much they're grieving that Gandalf is dead" but Pippin could reasonably blame himself for the death. He caused that corpse to fall down the well and let all of Moria know they were there, which probably alerted the balrog.
But!
Consider *book Pippin*.
Book Pippin did not poke an arrow and accidentally knock a corpse over the edge of the well. In the book "he groped for a loose stone, and let it drop. He felt his heart beat many times before there was any sound. Then far below, as if the stone had fallen into deep water in some cavernous place, there came a *plunk*, very distant, but magnified and repeated in the hollow shaft."
That was *not* an accident.
And that would be a lot of guilt for even someone like Aragorn or Boromir, someone accustomed to things going wrong and losing people, but Pippin is not even an *adult* yet!
Hobbits come of age at 33. Pippin is 28. Even if you are conservative about it and take that 33 to be more equivalent to 21, he is *seventeen years old*. If you go by the technical, legal adulthood of 18, he is *fifteen!!*
Like. Wow.
Imagine being fifteen and being the probable cause of death of an extremely powerful, possibly immortal being who has been involved in the history of your family (it's mentioned in The Hobbit that Gandalf has taken many Took boys and girls off on adventures through the generations) and community for probably centuries, because you were *bored and curious*
Like-
Can't wait to watch the rest of the movies and get emotionally whammied even more 👍
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"I can't let you back on the road in that fire hazard," Eddie says, huffing with laughter. "If there was a mechanic's code, I'd be breaking it." A giggle slips out of Chrissy's mouth before she can stop it. "Is it really that bad?" "Yep," Eddie replies, nodding his head as he sucks his teeth. "It's really that bad." "Well…" Chrissy feels a little thrill of confidence flow through her as she smiles at him, "...then I guess we're even after all."
happy one year anniversary to chapter 1 of if we don't leave this town, we might never make it out 🍾
i loved writing this fic so much and i miss this little universe i created all the time, so i thought what better way to honor the anniversary than to give you guys a little peek at what life's like for Eddie and Chrissy a few months after the last chapter ends. i hope you enjoy 💛
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when we begin again
The roar of an engine and the crunch of gravel outside of the garage doesn’t startle Chrissy like it used to. She’s long grown used to all the ambient noise that she hears on a daily basis from Eddie’s garage, even with the door to the office closed. There’s only so much sound that the simple wood can muffle, but it’s okay. Chrissy doesn’t feel the constant need to look over her shoulder anymore.
Sure, sometimes when she and Eddie are out somewhere she’ll get that tingly feeling on the back of her neck that makes her anxiety rise and she can’t help but fear that someone is watching her, but Eddie’s always there to keep her grounded. To protect her.
He makes her feel safe in a way she never thought possible. And yeah, sometimes she wonders if maybe she relies on him a little too much, but it’s only been a few months. She’s still healing, emotionally speaking anyway, and someday she’ll really learn to stand on her own two feet.
Still, having a safety net isn’t such a bad thing.
The door to the office creaks open - Eddie refuses to grease the hinges because it always announces his (and anyone else’s) presence so there’s never a worry of someone sneaking up on Chrissy when she has her back turned - and Chrissy looks over her shoulder to find Eddie rocking back and forth on his heels, fighting a large smile.
“What?” she asks with a laugh, staring at him curiously as she slowly gets up from the desk.
“I have a surprise for you.”
Chrissy tilts her head, feeling excited but nervous as to what this surprise could be. If it was another mixtape, he would’ve just waltzed right into the office and plunked it into the stereo already. It can’t be a meal, given that it’s the middle of the afternoon, but Chrissy can’t seem to come up with another idea of what he could possibly be surprising her with.
“What is it?”
Eddie extends his hand, his palm wiped clean of the streaks of grease that continue from the wrist up, and Chrissy doesn’t even think to hesitate before she takes it.
He leads her out of the office and through the garage, to the bay at the far end that she could’ve sworn was empty this morning after Mrs. Henderson came to pick up her Buick the day before. Whatever car is sitting in its place is much smaller than that, but Chrissy can’t tell what it is because it’s covered by a tarp.
“Stand right… here,” Eddie says as he gently guides Chrissy to stand right at what she assumes is the front end of the car, “and close your eyes.”
“Eddie…”
“Just for a little while,” he promises with a soft kiss to her cheek. “Five seconds - maybe ten. Please?”
Chrissy lets out a little breath and presses her lips together to hold back a smile, dutifully raising her hands to cover her eyes a moment later.
“That’s my girl,” Eddie murmurs, drawing a giggle out of her that she couldn’t have stopped if she tried.
As she listens to Eddie pulling back the tarp she imagines what he must look like; she has no doubt in her mind that whenever she opens her eyes the tarp will be all bunched up and shoved off to the side, making her wonder why he even bothered with it in the first place.
“Okay!” Eddie’s grin bleeds through his voice and Chrissy’s own mouth curls into a smile as she hears his footsteps come closer to her. He puts one hand on her elbow before he steps behind her, pressing his chest up against her back and all but enveloping her as he puts his mouth to her ear. “Open your eyes.”
She pulls her hands away from her face as Eddie’s hands settle on her waist, and while her first instinct is to turn around and look at him, as soon as her eyes focus on the car in front of her, she can’t look away.
“I… Eddie…” she lets out a surprised laugh, “what is this?”
“It’s a car,” he answers with a chuckle. “A 1973 Volkswagen Super Beetle, to be exact.”
“I know that,” Chrissy mumbles, pushing her elbow back against his ribs - not enough to hurt, but enough to show her annoyance at his snark.
“Okay, Miss Smarty-Pants,” he teases as he leans in to press another kiss to her cheek. Chrissy turns her head to catch his mouth, moaning ever so softly as he kisses her back.
“Whose car is it?” she asks when he pulls away.
“Yours.”
Chrissy’s jaw drops. Eddie slips out from behind her and walks back over to the car, his excitement growing more and more pronounced as he starts to ramble.
“I got a real good deal on it because it needs some work, but it runs and it’s a hell of a lot better than that hunk of junk you rode in on—”
Chrissy shakes her head a little; he’s never going to let her Gremlin go.
“—but since you’ve been saying you wanna learn more about cars, I thought why not get one that won’t fall apart and, y’know, it can be our weekend project, or whatever.”
“Eddie…”
He looks up at her, his smile faltering for the first time.
“Do… do you not like it?”
“No, it’s not—”
“Is it the color? We can totally change it, that’s not an issue—”
“Eddie,” Chrissy pleads as she rushes forward, throwing her arms around his neck and pushing up on her tiptoes to hold him tight. “I love it.”
“Yeah?” Eddie lets out a relieved breath and wraps his arms around her in return, laughing when he speaks. “You do?”
“Yes,” she says as she rocks her feet back down to the garage floor. “You shouldn’t have, though. How much—”
Eddie cuts her off with a kiss, chuckling into her mouth when she tries to wriggle away.
“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.”
“But—”
“I told you, I got a good deal!”
She frowns at him, but it doesn’t last long when he presses his forehead against hers and nudges her nose with his own.
“I wanted to do this for you,” he murmurs. “I want you to have a car that’s yours. That’ll get you where you need to go if you ever…”
Chrissy’s breath stutters as Eddie’s grip on her waist suddenly tightens. He goes stiff against her for a few seconds before he forces himself to relax, and she quickly brings their lips together.
She knows what this is. He’s giving her an escape route. This is his way of saying if you ever feel like you need to leave, I want you to be able to. He loves her enough to know that she deserves to feel like she isn’t trapped.
“I love you,” she whispers breathlessly as she clings to him, pressing her body against his as much as she can; if she could wrap herself around him any more, she would.
“Love you,” he says, lightning-quick in return. “Love you so much, Chrissy I—”
“I know.” She runs her fingers through his hair and kisses him again. “Thank you.”
Eddie fully relaxes against her but neither of them pull away from the other. Chrissy tucks her face against his shoulder and he does the same into the crook of her neck, and they just stand there for a while in each other’s embrace.
She doesn’t want to leave - she can’t imagine ever wanting to run away from Eddie like she did before - but knowing she’ll have the means to do so with his blessing? That means more to her than words could ever say.
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Chin/Neck Scratches. That's it, that's the blorbing thought for tonight.
~ The anon who wanted Kaveh but didn't want Baizhu or Ganyu Every time I send an ask, I have to go through my notes to find this exact signature. It's great XD
excellent thought, thank you very much
Foul Legacy LOVES chin scritches, no questions asked. if you hold out your hand, chances are there'll be a moth chin plunked in your palm- it only takes a few minutes too!! you learned this when you were extending out a hand to explain something to Zhongli and suddenly felt like you were holding something heavy. when you turned to look you were met with a blissful Foul Legacy, purring and nudging his head into your hand, your fingers curling around his chin. whatever you were telling Zhongli is quickly forgotten in favor of showering Legacy with affection and scritches, and the ex-Archon simply watches you both in amusement
Foul Legacy has a habit of also craning his head back so you can scratch his neck, to the point of nearly falling over. your hands move from his neck up to the back of his head, behind his horns, listening to his soft rumbles of contentment. his crystalline eye slips shut, occasionally gnawing gently at your fingers, and when he finally leans far enough and flops onto the ground, he takes you with him. an arm drapes over your torso, weighing you down comfortably before he sweeps you into a full-blown hug, nuzzling against your hair with little chirps and trills. he pushes your hand, craning his head back again for you, and you laugh, reaching up to run your nails over his neck again
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skyward-floored · 10 months
Note
Idk if your taking requests for your incredibles au but if you are, could you write something about Legend hurting himself (minorly) and being stupidly dramatic?
Okay so I was technically taking IAU requests when this was sent but it was right around when I closed them again, and I forgot about this one and uh. Yeah. Sorry. I wrote you a little something though anon, sorry for the wait, heh 😅
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Twilight was used to Legend’s antics by now, but sometimes he forgot just how dramatic his brother could be. He’d insist he was fine falling off his bike and scraping his knees and face to bits, but when it came to smaller things...
Legend let out a pitiful moan as Twilight came back outside to where he was sitting, and Twilight plunked down next to him, grabbing his brother’s hand and holding it out.
Legend immediately snatched it away.
“Legend, calm down,” Twilight tried for what must have been the fifth time now, Legend cringing away as he tried to hold his hand out again. “It’s only a splinter.”
“Well it hurts!” Legend wailed, and Twilight raised an eyebrow at his brother. He’d seen Legend hurt himself far worse than this and merely walk it off. The splinter wouldn’t even be difficult to remove— it was only stuck in his finger deep enough to make it difficult for Legend to pull out by himself.
“Legend, you’re not even bleeding,” Twilight said with a huff, and Legend flopped on the ground, clutching his hand like it was about to fall off.
“I’m gonna die,” he moaned, and Twilight crouched next to him, giving his brother a look.
“You’re not gonna die,” Twilight sighed, and took Legend’s hand in his. “Just let me take it out Legend, and stop being so dramatic.”
“I’m not being dramatic!” Legend snapped, then violently flinched away as Twilight tried to hold his hand still. “And I don’t want you to do it, you’ll make it hurt more!”
“Mom’s taking a nap and Dad’s still at work, and I know you don’t want Wild to do it. Who else is there?” Twilight said with his arms crossed.
Legend thought about that for a second, his mournful cries paused.
“Sky?”
“Also at work.”
“Warriors?”
“Work.”
“...Sun?”
“Legend you know the answer to that come on, just let me get it!” Twilight said in exasperation, and Legend glared at him a moment longer before finally extending his hand.
“Fine, just do it,” he snapped, and Twilight sighed in relief. Finally.
He took Legend’s hand and held it out so he could get at the splinter, finding the little sliver stuck on Legend’s finger. Twilight studied it for a second, then carefully positioned the tweezers he was holding, all while Legend kept his eyes tightly closed.
Then with no warning, he quickly plucked it out.
Legend stayed where he was, eyes still squeezed shut, hand tensed with anticipation. Twilight watched him for a moment in amusement, all while Legend’s face creased more and more.
“Are you going to pull it out or what?” he said after a few more seconds, voice strained, and Twilight couldn’t help his snicker.
“I already did, Legend.”
His brother’s eyes shot open, and he stared at his hand, now entirely splinter free. He turned it this way and that, and Twilight held up the tweezers, the little bit of wood still clenched between them.
“Oh. I knew that.”
“Sure ya did,” Twilight grinned, and Legend glared at him as he got to his feet.
He didn’t reply though, and after a moment of Twilight smiling at him, quickly made his escape, a muttered ‘thanks’ just barely reaching Twilight’s ears.
“You’re welcome,” Twilight called back cheerfully, and Legend turned into a bunny and darted inside, probably to hide the rapidly darkening color of his cheeks.
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spacenut334 · 9 months
Text
Shadowheart's Capture
Summary: Captured by Minthara in the temple of Selune, Shadowheart must please Minthara and Rugan until help arrives
Pairing: Shadowheart x Rugan x Minthara
Rating: 18+ Minors DNI, Dub Con
POV: 3rd Person
Words: 5400
Notes: Inspired by this artwork by Poar Art
Read On AO3
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“Run!” Tav was shouting as they rounded the corner. Tav had a frantic look in their eyes and the party stirred from their hiding places at the sound. 
Goblins began spilling around the corner behind tav, four, ten, fifteen, Shadowheart lost count but there were easily thirty in the group. 
“Ruuun!!” Everyone prepared their weapons, and reached for their packs frantically, preparing for an escape. 
Laezel quickly notched and loosed an arrow. A whiz, plunk, and scream let her know it had found its mark in the leading goblin. But there weren’t enough arrows or enough time to stop them all. 
Shadowheart said a brief prayer and channeled her energy towards the now nearest goblin to Tav. Its eyes widened as its skin sizzled then burst into flame. “May Shar bless and keep you!” 
Gale had quickly flipped through his spellbook, found what he was looking for, and after some terse muttering and hand waving, a series of magic missiles erupted from his fingertips, shooting towards Tav, then flowing around them like water. Each missile found its mark center mass in six different goblins. They were bowled over, but quickly replaced by more. 
Tav was almost to them, but the goblins continued to gain ground. There was no way they were going to make it out of this camp and into the wilderness like this.
Everyone’s packs were on now and they ran through the winding passageways to the exit of the temple. A light pain in her hand made Shadowheart wince, but it was the least of her worries. She had nearly forgotten her weapon in the rush, but quickly grabbed the bladed mace and fell in behind Tav, Laezel, and Gale. 
They had decided to only bring a small scouting party to avoid attention, but Shadowheart was missing the huge flaming barbarian and her warlock companion right now. They ran slower than her and would provide one more chance at escape. 
The goblins had bows and throwing weapons but were showing remarkable restraint in not using them. Likely their orders were to capture alive if possible. It seemed they were anxious for any information leading to the grove. 
The exit doors were still open and they came closer and closer to freedom. If they could get out and shut the doors, Gale would be able to magically lock it and buy them the time they needed to get scarce. 
Gale was first out, then Laezel, and Shadowheart close behind. Tav’s foot caught on a rock they went careening into the ground just short of the door. Shadowheart’s first instinct was to leave them behind, but the device had chosen Tav, and she couldn’t allow it to fall into the hands of the goblins. 
A rock whizzed by her head as she ran back to Tav to help them up. There was no time, the goblins were too close. She grabbed Tav by the neckline and belt-loops and tossed them through the opening. She slammed the heavy metal door and shouted at Gale to lock it, before turning to face the coming mob. 
Tav screamed at Gale to stop and re-open the door, but Shadowheart could already see the faint magic lines and the clicking of the ancient locking mechanisms by unseen hands. 
“You’d better come back for me!” There was a muffled yell from the other side, but she couldn’t tell what they said. 
When she turned around the goblins were upon her. A crude wooden club bounced off her plate armor, she replied with her mace. There was a satisfying crunch where metal met bone. No time to savor it though, another wooden club hit her shield. She crouched to absorb the blow and swept at the legs. Breaking ankles and tearing tendons. 
The smell of burning hair hit her nostrils as a familiar burnt goblin rushed at her with a dagger. Clearly their restraint only extended so far. In a quick upswing, mace met groin and goblin met ground. 
The goblins hesitated, clearly expecting less of a fight from the slight pale half-elf. Shar didn’t raise a weakling, and they would pay in blood for their underestimation.
The tunnel provided a perfect chokepoint, as perfect as one cleric versus dozens of goblins can be. Four goblins gathered in a semicircle a few steps away. A slightly larger goblin with a gashed scar across its milky eye motioned to the group and in a guttural voice said: “aw’right ye gobbos! Let’s do this all at once! She can’t take us all!”
The hollow sound of a horn blew, there was a brief moment of silence and then they rushed at her. Her mace met one head-on, spraying black blood on its friends, but the others had closed the distance. 
She felt a club meet her thigh and dropped down, putting the weight on her other leg and holding her shield high to protect her head. Blows rained down on her shield, numbing her arm and distracting her from the scarred goblin’s carefully aimed blow at her sternum. Her vision blacked out briefly as she gasped for air, dropping her arms to recover. 
Two pairs of small but muscled arms grabbed her shield, two more her mace. She struggled but could hold them off no longer. The shield and mace were tossed aside as goblins moved in to subdue her. 
Wrong move. As one reached out to take her by the shoulder, she lurched in and met its soft pointed nose with her hard forehead, resulting in squeals blood flow. 
“Careful now! She’s still dangerous and the drow wants her INTACT!” 
The scorched goblin was standing up again, holding the shattered remains of his manhood in one hand and his knife in the other. 
“Tell that to my shattered knob!” He screeched. 
Shadowheart whispered one last prayer to Shar and the goblin went from a toasty brown to charred black. A scream caught in his throat, and face twisted in shock at the final moments of his life. 
She could feel she was drained now, and would not be able to pull that off again, at least not until she had time to meditate and recover. “Seems like your friend needs to cool off.” She uttered dryly. 
Apparently the humor was lost on the scarred goblin, she saw a mailed fist come for her temple and then blackness. 
As Shadowheart came to she felt rough rope bindings tying her wrists behind her back. Leather collar was being put around her neck and a rope weaved through. 
“Did the gods’ favorite little princess have a nice nap?” The scarred goblin sneered, and then yanked her to her knees with the rope. “Get up! The boss will want to see you”
Shadowheart stood and followed the goblin down the crowded hallway. Keeping her eye out for any opportunity to affect an escape. None presented itself though. 
The hallway spilled into a large open room with vaulted ceilings and Selunite iconography everywhere. There was dirt smeared on every statue and artwork from goblin head-height down. At least the goblins have some taste, she thought. She felt fear starting to work its way into her throat and she pushed it down. They needed her, and a high value prisoner with information would be treated with respect as long as she cooperated. 
Most of the group split off and watched some obscene branding ritual happening in the center of the hall, but a decent sized detachment of guards stayed with her to continue the journey. She felt a yank at her throat, she had slowed down to view the ceremony, but the goblins were still moving. 
Shadowheart saw a beaten and bloody man being pulled down from a metal torture device, they passed by a room with a pale man gently self-flagellating with a leather lash. Tight knots were at each end of the lash, and there was a lifetime of fresh wounds and old scarring. She recognized some images belonging to Loviatar, The Maiden of Pain. 
They passed by a skinny man in a cage getting slapped around by a very entertained female goblin, and then a series of tunnels leading to a library. Shadowheart spotted a thin yet regal female drow leaning over a pile of maps and documents and a goblin was whispering in her ear. 
“Apparently his body gave out before his mind.” She said in a low husky tone. “Brave, but foolish.” The Drow turned to shadowheart. “Is this the one?” 
“Aye mistress, she put up quite a fight. A few of our best are down because of her and her friends.” The scarred goblin said in an as deferent of a tone as he could muster. This drow terrified him. 
“Saying ‘some of the best goblins’ is like saying some of the smartest dung beatles, nothing of value was lost and I’m sure your kind are already replacing them.” Her tone was mocking, but there was a surface of icy death running beneath it. 
“Yes mistress.”
“Get out of my sight, I can handle this from here.” She motioned for the group to leave, after a brief moment of hesitation they did. 
“I am Minthara of House Baenre, I doubt that means anything to you, but just know I am exceedingly important and hold your life in my hand. And you are?..” The icy undercurrents were still there and Shadowheart chose her words with great care. 
“Shadowheart, just Shadowheart, I would shake your hand but…” She made a motion towards her tied wrists. 
“Ahh! An unfortunate but necessary arrangement for now. Now tell me just Shadowheart what brings you to us on this wretchedly sunny day?” 
Shadowheart shifted her weight from one leg to the other, testing the strength of her bindings before saying, “I haven’t the foggiest, I must have taken a wrong turn-”
A slap stung her cheek and she saw stars. “Do. Not. Waste. My. Time. Elf, tell me what you know about a druid grove, or a small hexagonal device, and mark me, I know when someone is lying.” 
Shadowheart hesitated, why should she care about some druids or tieflings? but a deep pang of guilt built in her throat when she thought of giving them up. I may lose the artifact if they find Tav in the grove, she thought. There was more to it than that, but Shadowheart didn’t have time to dig into the feeling. 
“I haven’t the foggiest.” She put on her most dismissive tone, and tried to look hurt that she’d be asked such a question. 
Minthara’s eyes narrowed. “I see you’ve chosen the hard way.” A smile curled at the edge of her lips. “Know this, just Shadowheart, I will take my time, I will enjoy this. You will know awesome pleasure, and extreme pain, but in the end, you WILL tell me what you know.”
Shadowheart could tell that Minthara believed every single word she said, a flutter of fear tickled her stomach again, Tav is already planning a rescue, I just need to hold out a little while longer.
Minthara Led Shadowheart by the neck back to the cleric of Loviatar. “Abdirak!” The cleric looked up, “I have a new toy! I may need you to keep her alive, she knows something and I don’t want a repeat of last time. I’m bringing the Zhentarim trader with me.
A tall human clad in leathers, and a yellow and green tunic stepped out from the shadows. His hair was pulled back tightly and fastened with a small leather band. He looked young but signs of stress and battle marked his features. He had piercing blue eyes, almost too kind to be with this group. 
“Rugan, at your service.” He reached out a hand to the one Minthara called Abdirak. The cleric sneered at the hand. “Ahh, Rugan at your service” This time he reached towards Shadowheart, but removed his hand awkwardly, noticing the bindings. 
“I’m Shadowheart, and I will be the last person you see before you die, if you lay a single hand on me.” 
Rugan’s eyes narrowed and hardened. “Don’t think because you’re a beautiful woman that I have qualms about this task.” 
Her heart skipped a beat, maybe this one isn’t too kind after all. 
Minthara pulled Shadowheart at the neck to the room with the torture device. She saw Shadowheart eyeing it, “Oh don’t worry, we’re not ready for that quite yet.” 
“Let’s get rid of this worthless armor.” Minthara motioned again to Rugan. 
This was the armor gifted to her from her dark mother, Shadowheart swore under her breath a few threats if the armor was misplaced. 
Rugan approached, Shadowheart feigned helplessness, when he was within arms reach, she aimed a fast kick right between the legs. Like a flash he caught the foot and lept to the side chuckling. “I expected as much.” 
He slipped behind her and one by one various clasps, knots, and buttons keeping her hefty armor on were undone, un-knotted, and unbuttoned. With a resonant clang her breastplate fell to the floor. 
When the first layer of armor was off he went to Minthara and whispered in her ear. She smiled and shouted. “Skrag! Bring some of your boys over, we need a hand!” 
The scarred goblin, Skrag, came around the corner with eight companions.
“Strip her!” 
For the first time since being captured Shadowheart felt the reality of the situation slowly sink in. Tav wasn’t coming, she was in the middle of enemy territory, and there was no escape. 
The goblins licked their lips and approached. She was wrestled to the ground as rough clawed hands pinned her arms and legs. She struggled against the arms but there were too many. One boot was torn off, then the other. 
A flurry of hands grabbed her mail and pulled it over her head. Shadowheart was now only in her torn camp clothes, skin tight leather trousers and a leather shirt with a plunging neckline she was beginning to regret more and more. 
The hands stopped. 
Minthara looked down at her. “I told you to strip her did I not?” 
A look of lust and delight filled the circle of goblin faces. “Yes, Mistress.” 
“Strip ALL of her!”
Shadowheart strained, “You filthy wretches!” 
They didn’t remove so much as tear apart her shirt. Two sets of hands on either side tore the shirt from the neckline to the waist, pulling away and revealing the milky white skin and her tender swollen breasts. A deep purple bruise was left where Skrag had knocked her over.
Claws dug into the legs of her trousers and the goblins yanked down, exposing a bounty of thigh and calf. Shadowheart held her knees together to prevent the trousers from proceeding further, but green hands grabbed her knees and thighs, pulling them apart and allowing the trousers to be pulled off. 
Shadowheart felt her last bits of dignity torn away as one of the goblins ripped off her smallclothes. 
She was completely naked, the goblins pulled apart her legs to show off the soft pink lips beneath. She felt herself lifted and more hands spreading her ass and the snickering and sneering as goblin, human, and drow viewed her most intimate spaces.  She felt hands pawing at her breasts, saw tented trousers and more hands working their way across her rump. She felt fingers moving towards her cunt and tried to roll away- 
“That’s ENOUGH!” Minthara’s voice cut through the lustful growls. The goblins looked almost pained, from Minthara, to Shadowheart’s exposed body, and back. But their will to live was stronger than their desire to fuck, and they quickly backed away as Minthara went to grab her wrists. 
“Goblins, such blunt instruments, but I use what the absolute provides. Why waste a fine wine on a common rabble?” With one hand Minthara held Shadowheart’s wrists behind her back, and with the other she slowly traced her breasts in concentric circles to the nipples before leading her hand down towards the space between her legs. Minthara circled her entrance, as Rugan watched. 
Shadowheart stifled a moan, and tensed as she grew wet. 
Minthara quickly removed her hand, bringing her fingers to her lips. Shadowheart felt herself being led by her wrists.
“We have all the time in the world, and I want to savor you. Or you could tell me what I want to know, and you can leave now with your dignity… mostly intact.” 
Shadowheart held her head high “Do your worst! I am the chosen one of Shar! Scum like you are unworthy of even looking at me!” 
“Defiant even now?” Minthara chuckled. “Well we will do much more than look.” Minthara and Rugan were both looking now. Shadowheart was unable to cover herself. 
I can’t show weakness, they can’t think they’re winning. She stood tall and proud. She would escape, she would return, and she would slaughter everyone here who had wronged her. 
Minthara produced more of the silk rope. She bound Shadowheart’s with a silken harness, looping and curving, over her shoulders, around her breasts, arms, stomach, and looping twice on her inner thighs, on either side of her cunt, leaving the impression of wearing clothes that covered none of the pieces they were supposed to.
Minthara threw a loop of rope over a hook above. “I’m not an unreasonable woman, I believe in the carrot and the stick. We shall begin with the carrot, and if you still prove to be unreasonable, then I will have to get.. Unreasonable” Minthara’s eyes cast over the metal torture device, and fiery bowl filled with red hot weapons. 
A small cloaked goblin rapidly approached Minthara, and she bent over to hear the message. 
“I must leave for now, but don’t get too comfortable.” She spun around and quickly walked back towards her quarters with the goblin trailing behind her. 
Rugan smiled and settled into a nearby chair, “I guess we wait.” 
Rugan stared at Shadowheart, naked, helpless, her soft supple breasts bound tightly by the rope. Shadowheart saw the length in his pants grow. “Don’t look at me!” Her face and chest flushed, but Rugan had already stood up and began to pull down his trousers. 
Rugan had his cock in his hand and was slowly stroking it while circling Shadowheart. She strained to keep him in view but he made his way behind her, and  she could feel his eyes on ass and her spread hole. She felt herself growing wet from the attention. 
Tav would never have looked at her the way Rugan was. She was a purely sexual object to Rugan, and the thought of that excited her to slickness.
Rugan was in front of her again,  Cock at eye level and twitching. Shadowheart’s curiosity got the best of her and she leaned out towards him. He met her mouth halfway and slowly swirled his head against her soft lips. 
She could bite it off, but Rugan saw the desire in her eyes and knew that wasn’t going to happen. He leaned down and rubbed himself against her erect nipples, pulling her breasts together with both hands and sliding his length between them. 
Shadowheart let a long bead of saliva drip down from her tongue to help lubricate the process and her insides hummed at the thought of being used by this man. Rugan brought himself back to her mouth, and she opened. He slid his length against her lips and tongue and she brought him in.
Rugan gripped Shadowheart’s hair and began gently thrusting, Shadowheart gagged initially but then slowed her breathing through her nose and accepted his length. She was a receptacle for pleasure. Rugan’s breathing grew ragged and his knees began to buck. 
He let out a sharp groan and Shadowheart felt a spew of hot salty seed covering her lips and tongue. She opened her mouth wide, catching as much as she could. She looked Rugan in the eyes and swallowed. She suckled on his tip, gathering the last bits of seed before he shuddered and dismounted. She felt, helplessly, as his hot liquid dripped down her chin and onto her chest. 
Rugan pulled up his trousers and returned to the chair. Leaving Shadowheart gasping. He pulled his cloak over his head and leaned back, feigning sleep, but Shadowheart could see the glimmer of eyes from underneath and knew she was still being watched. 
Shadowheart pouted silently, as her cunt pulsed with unsated desire.
Shadowheart felt the minutes pass to hours. The sun was gone, and broken beams of moonlight came in through the shattered rafters of the temple. She felt moonlight pass across her naked skin, and her hand began to sting again. 
Even Seluna has come to mock me, she thought bitterly. A cool breeze passed over her and goose pimples formed across chest, back, and legs. The heat of a nearby fire pushed back the cold though. There were jagged and sharp instruments amongst the coals, waiting to singe flesh and break bone. Shadowheart prayed that Tav would return before things got that bad. 
The sharp echo of approaching footsteps on stone brought Shadowheart to attention from her stupor. From the confident gait she could tell it was Minthara even before she had rounded the corner. 
“You should be pleased to know we’ve found your friends.” Minthara waited for a response that Shadowheart refused to give before carrying on. “One of our scouts spotted their fire and I dispatched a company to eliminate them. After all, why would I need them if I have you.” Minthara’s words were laced with venom, but her eyes were unabashedly exploring Shadowheart while she spoke. 
Shadowheart felt her face flush and hoped Minthara interpreted that as anger. She remained silent. 
“What’s the use of continuing to hold out? No one is coming, and the only one who can show you mercy… is me.” After more silence Minthara sighed, “Very well, let’s begin.” 
Abdirak emerged from the shadows with his leather flail in hand. “Mistress may I?” Minthara nodded and he approached cautiously. “We’re not so different, you and I, after all the Maiden of Pain and Mother of Shadows are kin.” 
Shadowheart felt as Abdirak slowly reached and dragged the leather lashes across her skin. She tensed where every knot met skin. She felt as he moved each individual lash across her breasts, tensing on her nipple and then passing over, they grew erect and sensitive at the pale human’s deft touch. Shadowheart felt herself flush again and Abdirak noticed. An amused look passed over his face as he continued. 
The cool leather moved down her abdomen and she tensed, body rippling in the moonlight. He lowered it further, past her curls, passing from thigh to thigh and rolling over her exposed lips with each pass. Shadowheart felt herself trying to move in, trying to feel more, the urge to fill her emptiness grew. 
Abdirak kept teasing, moving back to her chest and then down again. Shadoweart felt the blood rushing to her face and to her clit, and shivered from an equal mix of cold and anticipation. She felt herself leaking and running down one leg. Minthara and Rugan saw, and seemed  to grow anxious, or maybe aroused. They weren’t immune to desire themselves. 
Abdirak flipped the whip over and brought the hard handle down to Shadoweart’s knees. Slowly bringing it up and meeting at the apex. He moved the leather handle around her folds, and Shadowheart ground against it. She needed this, despite Minthara and Rugan being in the room, maybe because they were here. 
Minthara had moved her hand inside the breast of her plunging neckline shirt as she watched Abdirak preparing Shadowheart. Such a body blessed to a non-drow. What a shame. 
Shadowheart continued to grind on the leather handle, trying to introduce her bud to the gentle vibrations of the whip, but Abdirak knew that’s what she wanted and deftly moved to avoid the one spot she wanted touched most. 
She shook with frustration letting out a small whine, “Please?” Abdirak chuckled but continued to deny her. 
“Step aside” Minthara motioned Abdirak away, he pouted like a puppy having its toy taken away but conceded and stepped back, whip in hand. 
“Rugan, hold her for me” The rogue stepped behind Shadowheart, lifting by the thighs and spreading her legs to the awaiting Drow. “good boy.” Shadowheart felt Rugan’s hard bulge jutting into her back, and wished it could fill the growing pulsating emptiness inside her. 
Minthara drew some loose strands of silver hair behind her ears as she knelt down to offer a prayer to Shadowheart’s quivering folds. 
Shadowheart drew in a sharp breath as warm tongue met aching lips. Minthara was slow but deliberate and quickly moved to Shadowheart’s dripping clit. Shadowheart couldn’t hold it back, “Fuck!” She moaned as the drow drew her in, sucking, and swirling her tongue. 
Shadowheart felt the pressure inside her building like a pot about to blow over, “Stop, if you don’t stop I’ll-” The drow sucked harder and Shadowheart burst. Her body was wracked with spasms of pleasure and the drow refused to stop, Shadowheart was dripping down her chin. The waves continued and Shadowheart let out a scream. “FUUUUUUCK!!!” The goblins in the center of the building stopped to stare at the scene unfolding. 
With a few last weak spasms, Shadowheart went limp, the drow stood and pulled her into a kiss, “Taste yourself, pathetic human.” Minthara grabbed the Shadowheart’s hair tightly and forced her mouth open, going in for a fierce kiss. Shadowheart tasted the sweet musk of her pleasure on the drow’s lips. Lightly spasming once more. 
“What do you think, Rugan, would you like a turn?” Shadowheart felt him twitching against her, he was an uncontrolled fire on the inside, but outside he just said: 
“If you wish, mistress.” 
“I do.” 
Shadowheart hung like a ragdoll from the rope as Rugan let her down and started unlacing his leather jerkin. Minthara moved in and  led Shadowheart to a table where she was roughly pushed down by Minthara. 
Rugan had flung aside his leathers now and pulled his tunic over his head. He had broad tightly muscled shoulders. A faint scar ran across his abdomen, and he had light curly hair running from his chest and trailing to his tented trousers. Shadowheart bit her lip in anticipation.
Rugan looped his thumbs in his trousers and pulled them down. He was already hard at the sight of her, and the friction of Minthara’s actions. Shadowheart traced his length with her eyes, beckoning him to come closer. 
“Gods you are beautiful.” He nearly moaned.
“I know.” was her only reply. 
Rugan slowly pulled on his cock while he looked from Shadowheart’s eyes, to her heaving ample breasts, to her dripping  cunt. He stepped forward, wrapping one arm around Shadowheart’s back, and the other he reached around to grab a healthy handful of rump. Rugan pulled Shadowheart to his waist and she felt his hardness throbbing against her. 
She ached to be felt, to be seen, to be filled, Rugan could do all of this at once, and she wanted him. Rugan rocked back and forth, coating himself in her juices and using his hand to swirl the head of his cock against her folds. Shadowheart gently moaned, and felt her face flush again. 
Rugan held his member and worked himself slowly inside. Shadowheart gasped, and scooched in to meet him. He throbbed inside her and held for what felt like an eternity before thrusting. Stars twinkled in Shadowheart’s vision and she moaned again, desperate for him. 
Rugan had both hands on her ass now, gripping so hard she thought it may draw blood, and ramming into her again and again. Shadowheart arched her back, grinding her pelvis against him. Rugan’s breathing grew ragged as he kept up the pace. 
Shadowheart’s attention had been so focused on Rugan that she didn’t see Minthara had stripped down. Her lavender cheeks were flushed and her small breasts rose and fell heavily. She had her legs spread gently and was feeling herself as she watched Rugan entering Shadowheart. 
Shadowheart welcomed the attention, and gave Minthara a look that said, come hither. Minthara approached, one hand still on herself as she walked. Rugan kept his tempo, but was flushed from the effort of holding back. Minthara reached in and caught Shadowheart’s mouth in hers. They breathed eachothers ragged breath. 
Shadowheart felt the heat from Minthara’s lips, and the previously unfelt desperation to have and be had. Minthara tapped Rugan motioning to switch places, and Rugan complied. Minthara moved in and mounted her thigh, cunt spread and already soaking wet. Shadowheart felt her knee and thigh slicken as Minthara rode her, then Soft fingers plunged into her darkness, and they both grew closer to Climax. 
Rugan came to the side of the table. He cock was slick with Shadowheart, and it was twitching from uncompleted pleasure. As he stood next to her, Shadowheart shifted positions and caught him in her mouth. Rugan groaned in pleasure, it was met by a groan of Shadowheart’s as the drow introduced a new finger and a deeper push. 
Shadowheart brushed her tongue against him, sucking and drawing Rugan’s length further in. He wanted to thrust but she toyed with him. Pulling back to prevent it. She still had a little control of the situation after all. Shadowheart swirled her tongue right at the base, and felt the small bundle of nerves contract and his member engorge even more. She tasted drops of his salty pleasure, but held him on the edge until she had hers. 
Minthara’s pace lost its pattern, as she began to spasm to completion. Shadowheart was close behind. Her walls closed in around Mintharas fingers and she arched her back more. Minthara’s vibrations became her vibrations. 
Minthara slid off, one hand still on herself, and Rugan took the opportunity to go back between Shadowheart’s thighs. Rugan’s desperate cock entering her sent renewed vibrations of pleasure through her body, he thrust desperately for only a few strokes. 
Shadowheart felt as Rugan exploded inside her, his hot sticky seed filling her and moans of “You’re beautiful.” On his lips. She felt him leaking out of her and onto the table below. 
She panted back: “I Know.”
Minthara hooked Shadowheart’s leash over a hook in the ceiling and left her there, limp. Rugan’s seed slowly drained from her dripping wet cunt. 
While she bathed in the afterglow, another goblin had approached Rugan, something about a delivery. Rugan made his excuses, but quickly redressed himself. He gave Shadoweart’s bare body one last longing look and then hurried away.
Minthara walked over to the now much more subdued Shadowheart. “First a taste of pleasure, then a taste of pain. I have you here as long as I need-”
There was a commotion coming from further in the temple and unmistakable roar of an enraged animal. A bloodied goblin came sprinting in and shouted. “It’s the adventurers, they escaped our patrol and freed Halsin.” 
Shadowheart saw Minthara go pale, and without a word sprinted, still naked out of the temple in the opposite direction of the approaching clatter. 
Tav had come back, and the whole crew was there this time. There was a chorus of screams, grunts, cracking bones, and cries for mercy, they were always cut short by a roar and then crunch. 
A heat and smell of sulfur grew stronger before Karlach poked her head in the room. 
“What the everflaming fuck happened here?!” She gripped the rope above Shadowheart’s head and it fell to pieces from her raging fire. Shadowheart had to quickly step back to avoid being scorched. 
She quickly gathered her scattered belongings while the flaming giant stood guard by the door
Shadowheart was dressed and hurried out the door to find Tav and company finishing off the last screaming goblin. A huge bear stood beside them and then shrank slowly into the form of a large elven man. 
She ran up to give Tav a hug and gently mouthed, “Thank you.” Tav nodded, and the group began scrounging for whatever loot they could carry back to the grove.  Karlach didn’t say the state she had found Shadowheart in and neither did Shadowheart.. Karlach because she thought Shadowheart was traumatized, but Shadowheart stayed silent because thinking of what had happened in that cell sent chills of pleasure down her spine, best not make Tav jealous. She still thought of Rugan and Minthara inside her and thought to herself I will repay this indignity and more quietly with a fuck they’ll never forget.
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intotheseas · 5 months
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This Modern Love, Chapter 2: The Sound of Settling
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Sebastian watches, hand extended, as the farmer hurries away. He opens his mouth, but no words come. Swearing, he turns back to the ocean. Great going, you dick. She must think he's a complete asshole now. He scoffs. She wouldn't be far off. Why did he say that? He didn't want her to leave, he only wanted...fuck, he doesn't know what he wanted. What else is new?
He sighs and tosses a rock into the sea. The resulting plunk does nothing to soothe his frustration. What is she even doing here? Why would someone move from Zuzu to Pelican Town of all places?
And what kind of a farmer dresses like that? His thoughts linger on the shape of her legs in the ripped tights, the way her oversized sweater fell to the hem of her shorts. He palms his face. Snap out of it. They only met today. He has no business entertaining those sorts of thoughts. 
Still, he's curious why she left the city. There's something up with her. Something he finds familiar. His shoulders tense the more he thinks about it; the way their eyes met, how their gaze lingered. Nope. Nope. Fuck this. Sebastian pulls a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, lights one with a shaky hand. He watches the sun sink below the waves, sits there until the ashes drop into his lap.
He leaves the beach and plods over the cobblestone streets. Lamps bathe the area in dim light, and the chill deepens. The road up the mountain is long and winding, surrounded by trees and wildlife. Crickets sing, and the river trickles below. The full moon illuminates the path. It's eerie, a little forlorn, and Sebastian relishes it. Exactly his kind of mood.
His house comes into view, walnut siding with a blue-painted roof. To anyone else, the light pouring from the windows would look inviting.
To Sebastian, it makes his stomach twist.
He veers toward the mountain lake.
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Read the rest here!
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zoeology31 · 4 months
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Decided to mess around on Baseball Reference the other day to practice my... data sifting skills, I guess? Anyway, this is an exercise to find every time Nick Castellanos of the Tigers/Cubs/Reds/Phillies has hit a drive into deep left field to make it a 4-0 ballgame.
As great as the extended "Castellanos has an Absol-like ability to homer when something unfortunate happens" meme is, I'm not compiling a list of all his home runs, there's 220 of those counting the postseason. Instead I'd like to find every career home run of his that fits the criteria of the original meme (deep left field, 4-0 ballgame). There's a couple video compilations out there that do this, but they're all a few years out of date and I'd like to look through the data myself to see if anything interesting was missed.
Unfortunately there's not a good way to search a baseball database via the score before or after a particular play, so I have to manually go through all 12 years of Castellanos's B-Ref game logs. Here's my heuristics for this process:
For a given season, sort the game logs by HR to reduce scrolling, since we only care about games he homered in.
Check the final score. If Castellanos's team scored less than 4 runs, no need to even check the box score.
Otherwise, click through and look at the linescore to see if Castellanos's team scored at least 4 runs before the other team scored any, thus enabling a midgame 4-0 score.
If so, scroll down to the play-by-play to find Castellanos's home run(s) and confirm the score and direction.
Here is an initial list of every home run hit by Castellanos to drive in the 4-0 run, even if the total runs scored on the play made the score greater than 4-0, in chronological order:
6/7/2014: 3rd inning solo homer, LF, 4-0.
7/30/2014: 1st inning 3-run homer, RF, 6-0.
4/10/2015: 5th inning 2-run homer, RF, 5-0.
7/22/2015: 3rd inning grand slam, LF-CF, 5-0.
8/19/2015: 3rd inning grand slam, LF, 7-0.
8/24/2015: 1st inning solo homer, LF, 4-0.
7/17/2017: 2nd inning 2-run homer, CF, 4-0.
9/8/2017: 3rd inning grand slam, CF-RF, 4-0.
6/16/2018: 5th inning 2-run homer, LF, 5-0.
8/30/2019: 2nd inning 2-run homer, LF, 5-0.
9/3/2019: 5th inning 3-run homer, RF, 5-0.
8/19/2020: 5th inning solo homer, LF, 4-0.
8/13/2021: 6th inning solo homer, LF, 4-0.
9/11/2021: 3rd inning 2-run homer, LF, 4-0.
6/28/2023: 2nd inning 3-run homer, LF, 5-0.
9/15/2023: 1st inning 3-run homer, LF, 4-0.
9/20/2023: 4th inning 2-run homer, RF, 4-0.
9/24/2023: 4th inning 2-run homer, LF, 4-0.
And narrowing down specifically to drives to deep left field to make it a 4-0 ballgame, we are left with:
6/7/2014: 3rd inning solo homer, LF, 4-0.
8/24/2015: 1st inning solo homer, LF, 4-0.
8/19/2020: 5th inning solo homer, LF, 4-0. (Bonus: the extremely normal call from the opposing broadcast)
8/13/2021: 6th inning solo homer, LF, 4-0.
9/11/2021: 3rd inning 2-run homer, LF, 4-0.
9/15/2023: 1st inning 3-run homer, LF, 4-0.
9/24/2023: 4th inning 2-run homer, LF, 4-0.
That's two with the Tigers, a nearly five-year gap between occurrences, three with the Reds, and two with the Phillies, for a total of seven times. Yes, he's done it four times in three full seasons since the initial meme incident, after only doing it twice in six full seasons before that.
There's no real rhyme or reason to this distribution; Castellanos has hit more home runs on a rate basis since 2020, but had a long enough career before that to accumulate more total home runs. Intuitively, factors like team quality and ballpark affect the frequency of opportunities to hit a 4-0 home run, but as we can see from the larger list above, Castellanos's overall homers to drive in the 4-0 run (18 total over 10 seasons) are distributed roughly equally throughout his career. Those homers have just happened to match the exact meme factors more frequently since 2020. Baseball magic?
Also of note, that first qualifying home run after the meme one happened the at-bat after Castellanos got plunked in the shoulder, and the second one was, as you can see, on the anniversary of 9/11. Featured on both those videos is the Reds play-by-play announcer who replaced Brennaman, John Sadak, aka the guy losing his mind on every Elly De La Cruz highlight video (here's some good examples). Blessing in disguise, honestly, he makes Reds games fun to tune into.
This is an Elly De La Cruz post now, actually. Watch those highlights. He's so cool. Baseball is the best.
Bonus: In his young career, De La Cruz has hit one (1) deep drive to make it a 4-0 ballgame, on 7/30/23, though it was to right field. As a switch-hitter who therefore bats lefty the majority of the time, he will homer to left field much less frequently than the righty Castellanos, but of course he'll do lots of other stuff too.
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rainbowchewynuggets · 2 years
Text
TMA Encore #13b
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Jon is plunged head over heels into nothing. He’s falling. He must be falling. He just can’t see. The pulsing burn on his right hand and his reeling inner ear drown out any remaining sensations that could give him context. He is left to wait. His mind retreats inward.
He retraces his steps, running back over every pitfall that brought them here. He recounts how his denial, paranoia, self-destruction, and need for control were exploited–but also his concern, his caution, his dedication. His team’s best efforts. How it had been just the same the first time through. The great and terrible change still came, only faster. He was supposed to be better than this. He didn’t believe what he told Jonah in their last encounter, and he doesn’t want to believe it now. He can’t just give up, wherever he’s going.
Jon hits water. It’s thick and warm. He drags himself what he hopes is upward. His lungs ache as liquid trickles in.
He breaks the surface and coughs hard. The air overhead is suddenly freezing. He pushes himself forward, still unable to see. The water drags at his skin. Something grainy and squishy sits on top of it and washes over him with each stroke. It smells fungal. Rotten. Jon tries to keep his head above the water as much as possible as he swims through it.
His hands graze something too rough and hard to be soil. More like cement. He climbs up to his feet on dry land and wicks the bad water off of his skin with his hands. Even after it feels like it should be off, his skin feels slick and tingly. The cuticles of his nails and the corners of his eyes sting.
A gunshot rips his attention away. At least, he thinks that’s what it was. It came from somewhere parallel to shore. He stands stone still and listens. For a while, there is only the quiet lapping of the water. Then, he thinks he can pick out footsteps on wet ground or a wave plunking against a foot. He calls out as loudly as he can, the cold squeezing at his chest.
Jon: Hello?
Nothing.
He starts to walk away from the water, uphill slightly. Branches–numerous and wiry–brush roughly at his arms and legs. He walks right through one as he keeps moving blindly on. It hisses. He extends a hand to guide himself. Something tells him not to make any more noise. His throbbing hand passes a shriveled tree. The impact is dull. A sign of damaged nerves. But against something steady, he can feel just how much he’s shaking from cold and fright. He rubs his arms to try to warm up and calm down. More bushes. Another tree. He picks his way through with his fingertips.
There’s definitely something behind him. The hissing isn’t just his.
He doesn’t hurry himself. He knows what this is. The Hunt can’t have him. He can still find a way out.
Their footsteps tap along to each other on the concrete ground.
There’s a noise in the distance. A voice. Its source is hard to parse as it bounces off the trees. The sound centralizes as he comes closer. Off to the left. It’s distressed. It’s Martin. He lets himself walk a little faster. The pursuer does too. Further on, he hears Tim and Sasha’s voices come into focus, off in different directions to his right. He hesitates over which one to follow. Whatever’s behind him stirs. He keeps following Martin, so as not to appear to change course. The rustling and hissing of bushes rings clearly ahead of him.
Jon: Martin? Can you hear me?
Martin: Yes! I hear you. I can’t see anything.
Jon: I know. Stay there, I’m coming.
Jon thinks he should almost already be there with him. However, he encounters nothing as he reaches out.
Jon: Keep talking so I can find you.
Martin: I’m right here, Jon.
It sounds wrong. Out of focus again. How did he miss him? Part of Jon screams that it’s a trick, but he can’t ignore the possibility that it’s not. He doubles back, and his face hits hard wood. Not a tree. A door. Its finish is oily, and the surface is wet. He can feel the peephole and the smooth silver knob. He backs away from it, nearly tripping over a small bush in doing so.
Jon: Martin!
Martin’s voice is far away now. Tim’s is closer. Jon has a harder time following. Tim is moving fast, as if running from something. His cries are as aggravated as they are fearful. Jon worries the man might be deceived into doing something dangerous. He sprints in cautious bursts to keep up, but he can’t seem to catch him or call loudly enough to be heard. His skin itches.
Tim’s voice leads Jon to turn sharply, and he slams into the oily door. Jon scoffs in disgust and pushes off of it. He stumbles over the little bush again.
Sasha is the nearest. He approaches her at a walking pace. When he calls, there are cavernous gaps between her answers. Her short hitching replies suppress a quivering terror that lies beneath. It sounds like she’s choking or coughing up water like he was. He tries to tell her it’ll be okay, but she doesn’t acknowledge the words.
The voice evenly rises to meet him until it’s too much. It’s high and tinny, like it’s coming out of a can. It’s so clear, she’s practically in the same space as him. He reaches out and feels nothing. Jon understands with deep dread that these are not his friends.
Sasha: What have you done, Jon? Did we mean that little to you?
Jon’s heart threatens to crumple. He talks past her, to the one he knows is watching.
Jon: I don’t have to explain myself to you. You did no better. At least I’m still human.
Sasha: And now, you’re blind. You’ll get tired of it eventually.
Wait. He’s lost track of the footsteps.
Jon turns reflexively and feels something sharp slice his left arm from where Sasha should be. He blenches and grips the wound, but forces himself not to run. That’s what it wants. He feels another cut at his leg. Then his shoulder. Then, a long sharp object invades deep into his back, grating on bone before retreating. His resolve leaves him. He bolts. The shades of his friends keep attacking him as he flees through the forest. Slashing. Clutching. If he pivots the second he hears them speak, he can hear their weapons whistle by his ear. He tries to direct himself between the trees without losing momentum. The bushes claw at his legs. Whatever’s on his skin has gotten into the cuts. The pain sears into numbness.
He runs into the door again.
Tim: Stay still.
Jon: ENOUGH.
A thud buries itself in the door, an inch from his neck.
Jon ducks away and tries to get as far from the door as possible. He runs and runs and runs. He’ll never escape if he doesn’t keep moving.
He loses heart. If he goes too far, he might not be able to reach that door again. Its location burns in the back of his mind with the part that always burns now. Where the two Eyes can see each other.
No, he has to throw away the guaranteed exit. He’ll find one on his own terms.
That is, unless there isn’t one.
A tugging at his side draws him back into his body. He slows down. His sleeve must have gotten snagged. He pulls and feels a faint response from a nerve ending behind him. It occurs to Jon that he can’t feel most of his limbs anymore. If it weren’t for the weight of his own body in his feet against the ground, he would have almost no frame of reference for where he is in space. He must have been tearing himself up the whole way. The responsive parts of his skin are wet. He smells blood. His mind leaps to picture what he must look like. The last of his energy leaves him. He has to stop to cough up a lung.
Something cuts his face. He falls backward. A pang of cognizance shoots up from his right hand as his palm wraps around metal. Momentum opens the door and draws Jon through, but Jon himself shuts it.
It’s like walking into a wall of water. Moving takes effort.
He gradually turns around.
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Feeling returns to Jon when the bullet pierces his breastbone. A shockwave of pain and surprise radiates outward. Warm liquid runs over his hand as he holds the wound. He’s still in darkness, but there’s a light up ahead. His legs move toward it. Soft dirt passes under his feet. His body grows heavier with each step. 
Heavier.
Heavier.
He might not make it to the light. Cold creeps through his chest, laboring his heart.
His limbs feel like stone.
His heart is still.
He might not make it.
He might not make it.
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morvantmortuary · 1 year
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hey, it’s Monday, and it’s also that time of year where I noticed a bunch of us are reblogging the “it’s really hard out here can someone please be proud of me” post (myself included, shakes fist at this semester!!)
so rather than run the risk of missing one, I just wanted to extend an invitation to, should you need someone to be proud:
please imagine your favorite necromancer picking you up and plunking you down on the soft surface of your choosing to rub your back and shoulders and tell you just how well you’ve been doing with Everything and that they know it’s hard, but they couldn’t be prouder of what a trooper you’ve been 🖤 and believe it or not, things will get easier — or we’ll at least have different problems in two weeks, which. is one way of thinking about it.
please feel free to do this as many times as you like! in the same day, even!! I know I do!!! :’D
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i-will-cry-you-a-river · 10 months
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We have the tradition that Santa Claus and Krampus come during the night and when kids wake up on the sixth of December, they either find nice things (from SC) or birch/switch (from the Krampus) in their boots, depending on how they behaved during the year. I wonder, does leaving the Krampus himself on somebody's doorsteps means that they were naughty or nice...
December was probably the worst time of the year. He used to love the Christmas season, he used to be the type of person who changed the entire decorations from Halloween to Winter Wonderland on the first of November, but…
Yeah.
Not anymore.
He couldn't stomach the cheerful snowmen and twinkling lights. Nor could he bear to witness the disgustingly, sickeningly sweet family of his best friend. Wei Wuxian was probably the only reason he survived, but if he had to spend more than a second with him, his adoring husband and cute kid, he would kill himself.
He had a list of more and more morbid ways to do that.
He was just joking! But no, not really.
Nie Huaisang sighed. Walking into the kitchen, he just took the whole tin of cookies with himself instead of refilling his plate. If he couldn't just fast-forward his life to January, at least he could suffocate himself with the delicious chocolate chip cookies Jiang Yanli baked.
With another weary sigh, he plunked down into the soft armchair. Picking up the only reminder of better times, his fingers brushed through the soft fur. The plush bear with a scowling face and tiny saber was the only thing that survived the fire - aside from Huaisang.
Sometimes he wished he could have died then and there.
Most of the time he wished they wouldn't have taken in him.
Closing his eyes, he wished he could have slept through the whole season, waking up sometime in the future. Or not even waking up. He would have been fine with not waking up at all.
He let himself be pulled into the waiting arms of the blessed darkness.
Minutes, then hours passed, Nie Huaisang deaf and blind to the world around him. Wind crept in from the outside, unnatural cold freezing frostwork on the windows. Nie Huaisang shivered, burrowing himself into the armchair, but he didn't wake up. Not until the footsteps that echoed in the sudden silence.
No.
Not footsteps. Hooves.
Nie Huaisang froze, eyes wide with fright. His throat was constrained, and his heart was beating as if he'd run a marathon. Silent, like a mouse, he rushed towards the door. He knew he shouldn't do it. He knew the menacing presence was there. Yet, he couldn't stop himself. It was as if his body was not his; he watched in terror as his hand moved without his accord to open the door. It opened slowly, torturously slow, adding to the terror of uncertainty.
Nie Huaisang gasped as a creature formed from the darkness. Huge and horned, hooved feet and sharp canines unveiled themselves. But they weren't the reason for Nie Huaisang's weakening legs, tear-filled eyes, and tattooing heart.
“Da… ge…” he whispered, his voice filled with anguish.
“Hello, didi.” A deep voice growled, different, yet so similar to the beloved tone of his brother.
Tears slid down his cheeks, he extended his hands. Trembling fingers pressed against furred skin, and it felt like time stopped around them.
“Da-ge,” he whispered again.
Sharp nails skimmed over Nie Huaisang's cheek as the monstrous form of Nie Mingjue tried to clear his tears away. “I'm here, didi. I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere without you.”
His left hand cupped Nie Huaisang's chin, a clawed thumb affectionately rubbing over his jawline, accompanied by a deep, possessive growl.
“But- how?” Nie Huaisang was shivering, not from the freezing wind, but from the emotions he tried to repress for so long. Nie Mingjue must have thought he was cold, because he wasted no time in reaching down and scooping him up in a princess hold, just like he used to do when Nie Huaisang was a kid. While he was higher, furrier, scarier, and much, much bigger, those protective arms and loving, gentle touches were the same. His big brother was the same.
“I'm here now. Does it really matter how I became the Krampus?”
Nie Huaisang supposed it didn't, not really. He could just count it as a Christmas miracle. The only thing important was that Da-ge was there. Krampus or not, goat-legged and furred and scary-looking or not, he was still his beloved Da-ge.
Nie Mingjue carried him to his bed, laying him down gently, so lovingly, it brought tears to his eyes. Since Nie Mingjue's death, feelings like love and safety were basically non-existent for Nie Huaisang. But not anymore.
“I missed you so much,” he confessed, pulling down to his bed his big and menacing-looking Da-ge with his arms wrapped around the Krampus’ neck. The bed creaked and gridded, but it bore the added weight of the monstrous form.
“I missed you too, didi,” Nie Mingjue rasped. His breathing tickled Nie Huaisang's neck and did other things to him he'd rather not admit. Feeling the big and strong body next to him, knowing that the only person he'd ever loved more than anything in the whole world was there and not going anywhere was a heady feeling.
Then, he felt the tip of a clawed finger trailing over his side and he let out an involuntary moan. His Da-ge was incredibly warm and real and he smelled so good! Similar to how he used to, but muskier, earthier, and it was almost intoxicating.
“A-Sang,” Nie Mingjue growled, and grasped Nie Huaisang's hip, pulling the much smaller body almost on top of him. Nie Huaisang squealed, but soon relaxed against the furred body, squiggling until he found the perfect, most comfortable position, with one of his legs between Nie Mingjue's, and an arm thrown over the huge body.
“Didi,” snarled Krampus. “Don't play with fire, unless you are ready for the consequences!”
Nie Huaisang's heart froze, his mind supplying him with memories of fire, burnt hands, and darkness. He felt like he was suffocating until gentle hands brought him back to the present.
“I'm sorry,” Nie Mingjue mumbled. “It's okay, didi. You are safe. Da-ge is here.”
Nie Huaisang’s breathing slowly normalized, and his body went lax against his brother's. He let out a whine, needing more comfort; he needed his Da-ge!
Krampus rumbled as he pressed his hand against Nie Huaisang's back, gently rubbing it, careful that his claws wouldn't hurt the human. “I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. You are safe,” he repeated like a mantra. “Da-ge loves you.”
Nie Huaisang smiled against the broad chest, rubbing his face against the furry pectorals. Yes, he was safe; yes, he was loved.
“Didi loves you too,” he mumbled, blinking up to his brother with huge, innocent eyes. He knew very well that those were Da-ge's kryptonite.
“You minx,” Nie Mingjue grunted as his hands tightened around Nie Huaisang's hips. Lightning struck through the younger man, he felt like he was going to die if he couldn't get more of that delicious possessiveness. He always adored being Nie Mingjue’s number one, to be his priority over anything and anybody else.
“You want this,” the awe in Nie Mingjue's voice was almost palpable.
Nie Huaisang nodded, “I love you, Da-ge. I always wanted this… I always wanted you.”
There was something feral about the way Krampus growled, and kissed Nie Huaisang like a hungry beast. Teeth gnashed together, lips pressing against each other, submitting to the shared passion they hid for so long. A wayward hand groped Nie Huaisang's round ass, another clawed his shirt as if it was nothing but paper. Furred arms rubbed against his sensitive skin, adding an extra factor to the already mind-blowing experience.
Nie Mingjue explored Nie Huaisang's upper body, caressing his unblemished skin, and trailing sharp claws over his neck. Nie Huaisang could feel the growing erection against his thigh, and he knew his brother could feel his excitement too.
“Haa,” he gasped for air as they broke their kiss. The canines, he expected. But the elongated tongue that could explore places… that was new. He shivered as said long tongue slithered out of Krampus’ mouth to rub against his neck, his hips rutting against Nie Mingjue's stomach.
“Didi,” whispered Nie Mingjue almost reverently. He pushed Nie Huaisang onto the bed, climbing over him, towering over him like the big mountain he was. Nie Huaisang’s pants followed the same fate as his shirt, sliced through and discarded without care. He wanted to huff and puff and grumble about that, but honestly… he has countless other pants. Who cared about them, when he had Nie Mingjue covering his body and pleasuring him?!
He could hear a pleased purr as the last fabric that covered him was torn apart, and lips were pressing against his. It was a quick, but dirty kiss; drool was dripping from Nie Mingjue's tongue as they parted, and he didn't hesitate to kiss deeply another part of his didi. It was strange and weird and slick, and Nie Huaisang wanted more. His hips thrust forward to feel more of that long tongue, to feel all of it inside his body. It was sleeker than any of his toys, but it felt much, much better. He could barely wait to feel Nie Mingjue's cock if his tongue already felt like Heaven.
Nie Huaisang fisted his blanket first, mouth open and panting, but as he looked down, not wanting to miss a thing, he had a better idea.
He grabbed Nie Mingjue's horns with his hands, and he was convinced that they were there only for this reason. “Fuuuck,” he whined as his body took more of Nie Mingjue's tongue. Warmth flooded his body, legs tensing and toes curling at the unfathomable pleasure.
Nie Huaisang cried out as Nie Mingjue pulled away, leaving him teetering on the edge of completion. “Da-geee!” He screamed with unfulfilled desire.
Hands were groping him with naked want, and Nie Mingjue dove un for another mind-melting kiss. One of his knees slipped between Nie Huaisang's thighs, pushing them apart so he could fit there. He was a big man in his life and an even bigger man as Krampus.
Nie Mingjue's tongue flicked against Nie Huaisang's nipple, pebbling the sensitive flesh, making him squirm, and gasp and whine for more.
He didn't have to wait for longer, before he could fully process what was happening, Nie Mingjue was hovering over him, his own clothes thrown away, showing off his muscled form. Even with the dense fur, sharp claws, and huge horns, Nie Huaisang's mouth was watering at the sight of his beloved brother kneeling between his legs, his well-endowed cock ready to bury itself into Nie Huaisang's body.
“Gimme! Now!” He whined like the spoiled brat he was for - and because of - his Da-ge.
“So impatient,” Nie Mingjue shook his head in mock disappointment but followed his didi's order. Nie Huaisang gasped as the tip of Nie Mingjue's cock grazed against his aching hole. Nie Huaisang's body went rigid with fear that he might be too tight without fingering himself first since the last time he used one of his toys was hours before, but before he could voice his concerns, Nie Mingjue suddenly pushed in.
It was painful, a bit more painful than he was used to, but it was also so fucking deliciously good that he didn't care about that. He would whine and pout the next day and guilt his brother to pamper him properly, but that time he wanted nothing more than to feel the whole length of Nie Mingjue's cock inside of him. Nie Mingjue started thrusting, shallow first, then, as he found that spot that made Nie Huaisang see stars, he thrust harder and deeper. The pain was just an afterthought for Nie Huaisang, especially when Krampus’ hands were touching him, caressing him, gently scratching him as if he wanted to mark him.
Nie Huaisang moaned, cursing under his breath as Nie Mingjue fucked him. He wanted more. No. He needed more.
“That's it. Good boy, take what you need,” Nie Mingjue said in a rough, husky voice when Nie Huaisang ground his hips forward to get more of that amazing cock.
The pace shifted as Nie Mingjue became rougher, fucking him like he owned him. Nie Huaisang supposed that wasn't that far from the truth; he really was Nie Mingjue's.
“Da-geee,” Nie Huaisang cried out as his brother ground into him. Clawed hands held his ass for a better position, fucking Nie Huaisang's ass as if he never wanted to stop. The younger man's moans became broken, just a mess of grunts and whines and soundless gasps. He reached up to grasp the horns with his hands to meet his brutal pace with his own movements.
“Yes, didi! Just like that!” Nie Mingjue rasped. After a few more thrusts, he came inside Nie Huaisang with a loud growl. The rush of pleasure was enough to push Nie Huaisang over the edge. Toe-curling, dizzying, earth-shattering pleasure ran through Nie Huaisang. He could barely feel his brother's cum filling him uncomfortably full, he was just floating on air. It was like falling and being drunk and feeling the happiest he'd ever felt mixed together into the perfect cocktail. Nothing mattered, only them.
When Nie Mingjue finally pulled out, fatigue claimed Nie Huaisang. He was halfway to Dreamland, when he heard, “Sleep, A-Sang. I'll be here when you wake up. You will never be alone anymore, I promise. Sweet dreams, didi.”
Nie Huaisang felt whole again, full like never before. Before this, he hated Christmas, he despised it, but in the end, Christmas miracles really did happen. There would be no more lonely days for him, not anymore.
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elizabethplaid · 10 months
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Tryin' to get some nice family portraits, and this gal just walked right in front of the camera.
I get so frustrated as I try to find "just the right" pose for my sims. I use CC pose packs, but the facial expressions are either too serious or too goofy for my needs. The serious ones don't look so great on elders.
I've started futzing with combining single-sim poses and (partial) group poses. The draped-arm pose is from a group pose, while the hand-at-head is a solo one. I keep coming back to @ratboysims pose packs, as I can often interchange poses, as long as they're in the same position (eg left, middle, center)
If I wasn't so stubborn about getting "physical" copies of the pictures (eg objects you can display in their house), I'd work on getting more family portraits. I had some really pretty ones from Harper Ivey's family. Alas, with 8 sims in the family, there's no one left to work the camera!
Pics of Harper's family below the cut, as I seem to have forgotten to post them:
Obligatory body horror of everyone standing in the same place.
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The Henford-on-Bagley world is so gorgeous. No need for a fancy background. They're just in their front yard.
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I think this was 3 separate poses. You can tell by how they're each clustered together.
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Middle kid was sorta plunked down in the middle, using a separate solo pose.
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Harper's 3 older daughters are in more of the "group model" poses, but each from a different pose.
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I really liked this family portrait, centered around the couch. There were a lot of options, and I really liked how many spots there were for toddlers and kids.
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Iirc, I had multiple sims in the same pose, so they could hold all those toddlers.
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Again, had the 2 children in the same pose, so the "line" could be extended. Otherwise, I think the original pose had 1 child and 3 toddlers.
I really love Harper's kids, but I think playing in that world made it extra fun.
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Fun fact: When you "take photos" in the game to get photo-objects, the game takes a wide-view screenshot at the same time. So whatever cropping you had in mind is lost.
You also can't make more "prints" from a photo, so you have to take multiple at the same time if you want different sizes.
But wait, there's the photography skill! Some of your pics turn out like shit if your skill is low. What do you do?
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... Suffer
On the bright side (sarcastic), I have tons of screenshots of my game that I never bothered sorting through, cropping, or deleting. So many I never posted, after my big spree a couple years ago.
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voraciousvore · 11 months
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In the Belly of the Giant (23/39)
Chapter 23
Joey chugged another coffee as he watched the small red dot that represented the human bait blinking on his computer screen. Humans couldn’t walk very fast, having such short little legs, so the dot didn’t move much as it crawled sluggishly across the live map screen, close to the school. Joey had been observing for a couple hours now and was beginning to feel disheartened. He knew, logically, that he needed to be more patient, but didn’t know what he was going to do if his plan failed. He didn’t have any leads in the investigation. The last thing he wanted was a cold case when so many lives were at stake, including Eren’s. 
Ray came into the room, chowing down on a family-size bag of chips as a late-night snack. “Anything new?” he asked, offering Joey some chips. Joey sighed, shook his head, and snagged a handful of greasy crisps, stuffing them into his mouth. As he crunched the chips with his teeth, he gazed with an empty expression at the screen, as if he were watching a program on TV. He tried to stay focused, but his eyes were glazing over with boredom and fatigue. His extended stint of long, stressful hours and late nights were wearing him down to a nub. 
Abruptly, the slow-moving dot jumped and changed course, darting swiftly in the opposite direction. Joey snapped up, his fatigue vanishing into smoke. Ray was jolted out of his stupor with Joey’s jerky motion. The two cops watched the dot, spellbound, as it raced across the map. There was a pause, and then the dot picked up speed even more, faster than even a giant could run. The human was in a car. 
“He’s-he’s been taken!” Ray exclaimed. “It actually worked! They took the bait!” He sounded surprised. Though he hadn’t admitted it out loud to Joey, he didn’t think the kidnappers would just be hanging around all night waiting for a victim.  
Joey jumped out of his chair, grabbing Ray’s sleeve. “Come on, let’s go!” 
Ray used his superior bulk to pull Joey back into his chair. “Whoa, hold on there cowboy. We have to see where they’re going first.” 
“But-” Joey began to protest. 
“Don’t be stupid, Joey,” Ray interrupted, more serious this time. “There’s no point in intercepting them before they reach their hideout. Have patience.” 
Joey slumped, resting his elbows on the computer desk, and glued his eyes to the screen. From the direction the car was moving, he assumed they must be going to the wreckage that made up the bad area of town. Suddenly, the little blinking dot disappeared. Joey blinked, wiped his glasses, and gripped the monitor with both hands. The signal had been lost. 
“Shit!” Joey cursed. Just then, the dot blinked back to life on the screen. Joey was stunned to see that now there were two dots. One stayed in the car, and the other lay motionless on the side of the road. With the two trackers in the shoes separated, the signal was weaker, each dot flickering with irregular pulses. 
“What happened?” Ray asked, confused. “Why are there two dots?” 
Joey covered his mouth in horror. “What if... he got torn in half?” He jumped up out of his chair again. “We need to go!”  
This time, Ray didn’t protest. He grabbed a nearby officer and plunked him down in front of the screen. “Watch this for us, please. Keep us informed.” Joey and Ray sprinted out to their police cruiser and rushed toward the location of the immobile dot. Joey was scared to see what they would find. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if the human had been killed because of his harebrained scheme. He imagined having to call up the man’s wife and inform her of her husband’s death, and the thought churned his stomach. 
They pinpointed the source of the signal and parked the cruiser close by. Joey didn’t want to accidentally run over the doctor, if he was injured in the street. They got out of the car and searched the asphalt for any sign of him, dead or alive. The closest streetlight was burned out, so Joey swept the area with a flashlight. He spotted a miniscule object near the gutter and crouched down to investigate. He was surprised to find the pair of pants he had the human change into earlier. The pants were crumbled up but intact, without any bloodstains or indications of violence. Joey searched nearby and found a sock, so microscopic that he wouldn’t be able to tell what it was if not for the distinctive shape. 
Ray rejoined him, carrying a speck of something in his palm. Joey had to squint to discern it was the doctor’s shoe, with the tracker inside. He was relieved to see there was no foot ripped off inside the shoe or anything grotesque. The shoe was as small as the nail on his pinky finger. The cops glanced at each other with confusion. 
“What happened here? Why did he take his clothes off?” Ray questioned. “There’s no blood, so at least they didn’t shred him to pieces. I hope they weren’t doing anything nasty and perverted to him.” 
Joey paled. “Do you think they knew about the trackers we planted on his person?” 
Ray shook his head. “Doubtful, considering one of the trackers is still in the car. Although…” He looked down at the diminutive shoe, dwarfed by his palm. “Human shoes are so small. Maybe they missed one.” 
“If they figured it out, he’s in danger! We need to rescue him!” Joey cried. Ray acknowledged Joey’s concerns with a tense nod and called up the officer he left by the computer back at the station. He asked for an update. As he listened to what the officer had to say, his eyes widened. 
“Joey, they traced the other tracker to that abandoned industrial park up the road. However… they lost the signal again. We’ve lost him.” Ray hustled back to the cruiser, Joey on his heels. “We need to find him, stat!” They jumped in the police car and skidded off. As they followed their fellow officer’s directions to the last known location, Joey scanned the surrounding area from the window for anything notable or unusual. 
Ray slowed to a stop in the middle of the road. Joey looked at him questioningly. “This is it,” Ray said. “We don’t know where they went from here.” Joey surveyed the area. All he saw were rows of abandoned buildings that were falling apart, old warehouses, ancient industrial equipment eaten away by rust, and dirt lots. No cars in sight. Woe crept into his heart. He had failed. 
“Drive up the road a little ways,” Joey suggested, not willing to give up yet. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and find a clue.” Ray piloted the cruiser up the road, to a four-way stop. 
“Which way?” Ray asked. 
“I…” Joey glanced down each road, then groaned and covered his face with his hands. “I don’t know!” Black despair flooded over him. He was never going to find Eren. Dr. Rajak was going to die. The poor human teenagers would suffer a life of slavery. All because he had ruined the investigation; he hadn’t thought through what might go wrong. He slammed his fists onto the dashboard with frustration. “Damn it!” 
“Hold on, Joey,” Ray mentioned, staying more levelheaded. “We need to think. We can figure this out. Put ourselves in the minds of the criminals. If we had a hideout, where would it be?” 
Joey tried to puzzle it out, but his mind drew a blank. He was beginning to spiral. He clenched his fists hard enough for his nails to bite into his skin. Just as he felt like screaming, a recent memory surfaced in his mind. They had been in this area just a few days ago. He had seen suspiciously nice cars, hidden in a gravel lot next to a warehouse. He connected the dots. 
“Ray!” Joey shouted. “I know where to go!” 
Ray grinned. “I knew I could count on you, Joey!” Although the industrial park looked different in the night, they managed to locate the familiar route and find the same warehouse. Just like before, there were several slick, expensive, black cars parked alongside it. Ray parked the cruiser in a discreet spot and Joey made a move to get out. As usual, Ray had to grab his arm and tug him back. 
“We need to call for backup,” Ray insisted. “If that is really a gang hideout, it’ll be like storming an armed fortress.” Joey immediately realized the sense in his statement and picked up the radio to call all his cop buddies. Before long, the warehouse was silently encircled by police cars, like sharks drawn to the smell of blood in the water. His co-workers had brought with them a veritable arsenal of gear and equipment for assaulting the building. Joey hoped his hunch was correct; otherwise, his boss might not be too happy with him for wasting resources. 
The police converged on the building and covered all the exits. Joey’s adrenaline was coursing through his veins. He had trained for this sort of situation in the police academy, but he had never been involved with storming a building full of hostile enemies in real life. He didn’t have time to dwell on the thought, though, because the signal was given. Joey and Ray pulled the pins on the flashbang grenades they were holding and tossed them through the door, then shut the door and turned away to block out the light and noise. 
The police charged into the building, guns raised, to swiftly incapacitate the stunned criminals. Joey ran through the chaos and blindly bull-rushed the first giant he encountered, a hulking brute of a man. Using his momentum and the element of surprise to his advantage, he knocked the man to the ground, pinned his arms behind his back, and cuffed him. Another muscular giant was behind him with a knife drawn, but Ray knocked the man over before he could stab Joey in the back and placed him under arrest.  
The police had blindsided the gang, so they were able to successfully and efficiently subdue the dangerous men without any casualties or significant injuries. Joey hauled the bigger giant he had tackled to his feet and dragged him out the door to the police car. The man was fighting against him, cursing and shouting and frothing at the mouth. His voice was familiar, but Joey couldn’t place where he had heard the man talk before. Joey, pushing him forward from the back, looked over his fancy pinstripe suit and realized he must be someone important. He caught a glimpse of the giant’s face and felt a jolt of shock. 
“Principal Greenwood?!” Joey balked. Mr. Greenwood stopped yelling and scowled at Joey. He didn’t know Joey, but he figured he must have been a student at the school. Joey boiled over with rage. Mr. Greenwood had harmed his girlfriend while at the school, and now he was here, linked to her disappearance. He tightened his grip on the cuffs until his knuckles whitened and slammed Mr. Greenwood against the car. He wanted to beat this man to a bloody pulp. 
“Joey, buddy, don’t do anything you’ll regret,” Ray warned as he dragged his own prisoner next to Joey. “It’s not worth compromising the investigation.” Joey gritted his teeth and nodded, indicating he understood. The officers recited to the detained criminals their rights and locked them up in the backseat of their police cruiser. Once that business was taken care of, Joey rushed back inside to see if he could find Eren. 
When he entered the warehouse, he saw that several of his coworkers had already begun the process of securing the drugs, weapons, and other contraband. One of the officers came up and slapped Joey on the back. “Good job, man! This was an excellent find!” Joey didn’t say anything in response, as he was too distracted and not receptive to praise at the moment. He looked around until he spotted the human cages and hurried over. He prayed desperately that he would find Eren. 
One of the giant police officers was already systematically unlocking the occupied cages to free the humans. All the humans had been stripped naked, clothed only with the wretched slave harnesses. Joey helped remove the harnesses, peering closely at the humans and inside each cage for his girlfriend. Dr. Rajak had been freed before Joey arrived by the cages. He looked shaken and didn’t talk much. Joey thanked him profusely for his help; he gave a weak nod in response and requested he be taken back home to his wife. Joey called somebody over to help him out and give him a ride home. 
While all of the humans were suffering from their terrible experience, some of them were clearly not used to giants. They were terrified of all giants, even the police officers who were trying to help them. Joey could only assume they had been taken from the human side of the wall and had no prior experience with giants. The idea that they were sold by their own people to horrible giants filled Joey with sadness. Joey wanted to help them, but he recalled how he had caused the human at the hospital to faint and held himself back. Fortunately, the humans who knew that not all giants were bad worked to coax out the others and make them more comfortable. 
Joey had to turn away with bitterness when he finally accepted the fact that Eren was not among them. He was too late, assuming she had been here with the others. He cursed himself angrily. He saw the warehouse a few days ago and had his suspicions, but didn’t act in time. He might have been able to save her. He left the warehouse, oblivious to his surroundings as he stumbled back to the police cruiser and leaned on it numbly. Ray joined him a few minutes later. 
“Joey… is everything okay? Did you find her?” his partner asked. 
Joey burst into tears. 
Chapter 24
Chapter 1
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lostcybertronian · 2 years
Note
"don't act like you don't know me" docthor
Docthor Week - Day 3
Prompt: Trap
---
The bar was crowded, but not so much so that Edward couldn’t squeeze onto a stool right next to his target. The man was massive and muscled and frightfully handsome with his dark hair swept back from his forehead. He was exactly Edward’s type, if that was what he was here for.
Still, he gave the man a slow look-down, just to let him know, but played hard to get when the man in return shot him a crooked smirk and a wink.
The man– whose name he would come to learn was Marcus– opened his mouth to say something when the Author made his appearance.
He plunked down clumsily onto the empty stool to Edward’s left, doing a pretty good job of acting trashed. In one hand he clutched a half-full stein of beer, which he slammed to the bar, amber and foam sloshing over the rim.
“Who are you?” He directed at Marcus, then at Edward, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Edward paused, as if considering whether or not to answer, then plastered a smirk to his face and pointedly turned away, leaning toward Marcus despite the Author’s protests. “So, what’s your name, handsome?”
“That’s your pickup?” He arched one thick, caterpillar eyebrow, but nonetheless gave Edward an answer, extending his hand. “Buy you a drink?”
Edward snorted. “That’s your pickup?” But nonetheless he shook Marcus’s hand and let him buy a round of beer, because that was how the trap was set.
No sooner had they signaled the bartender did the Author stand and grab Edward’s arm, forcing him to his chest. This was always the scariest part, and over time Edward had found it easier and easier to act frightened; the Author’s nails dug deep into his skin and even facing away from him, Edward could see his animalistic snarl. 
“Don’t you act like you don’t know me,” he hissed into Edward’s ear. Even whispering, his voice was barely audible over the din and clamor of the busy bar. “You don’t get to ignore me.”
“Let him go.” Marcus stood, face contorting into a deep, ugly, angry scowl.
The Author grinned, and shoved Edward toward him, using Edward as a shield to hide a quick punch to the face.
As planned, the bar dissolved into chaos soon after that; drunk people loved a good brawl. It was simple to knock Marcus out and slip him through the emergency exit.
The drive back to the cabin was quiet. Marcus was crammed into the trunk. The occasional bang echoed through the compartment as he tried to force his way free.
“This is the last time I’m doing this, Author.” Edward broke the silence quietly, keeping his eyes glued to the darkening road, painted yellow by the headlights.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not luring your characters in anymore. They’re innocent people.” Edward braced himself for the blowback, but when the Author didn’t respond, he forged on. “Do it yourself from now on.”
There was a pause. And then-
“Okay, fine.” The Author went back to writing in his journal.
Edward continued driving.
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skyward-floored · 1 year
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How about something with sky, time and wars bonding?
Literally the first one and I break my own word limit agahagfkffh
This one’s set a little bit before Lost Time, Sky and Warriors are still very much kids. Not totally bonding, but it’s a nice moment between them all anyways?
———
Time walked inside with a couple of grocery bags, yawning as he toed the door shut behind him. He set the bags on the counter and walked into the living room, but paused, blinking at the mess the space was in.
Leaves and dirt were scattered across the floor, along with a couple bottles, multiple combs, and several bright red feathers. Warriors and Sky sat cross-legged in the worst of it, Warriors looking harried while Sky looked miserable.
“Do I want to know?” Time asked as he walked more fully inside, and Warriors and Sky both looked at each other, then at him.
“Well, uh...” Warriors began, looking frustrated. “We ran into some trouble— and before you ask we dealt with it and we’re fine— but Sky sort of got thrown around a little and his wings...” Warriors trailed off, and looked back down at the wing extended across his lap. “I was trying to help him clean them up and preen them, but they’re... they’re really bad. I’ve barely even started.”
“I’m not going to be able to fly anymore at this rate,” Sky said miserably, and Time crossed the floor and knelt by his side.
He winced at the sight of the crooked feathers and detritus still caught in Sky’s wings, and carefully ran a hand along them, studying every out-of-place feather. Despite the messy appearance though, the majority of feathers were still where they were supposed to be, and Time squeezed Sky’s shoulder.
“You’ll still be able to fly Sky, this is just going to take some work,” he assured, tugging a stick out and tossing it aside as he settled himself into a more comfortable position. “I would like to hear about how exactly... this happened though.”
Warriors and Sky exchanged glances again.
“Well... there was this weird noise coming from down the street, and since we weren’t doing much me and Sky decided to investigate...”
As Warriors and Sky took turns explaining their busy afternoon, Time started in on removing the few foreign objects still trapped in Sky’s feathers, sticks and leaves and even a few small pebbles wedged in between the shafts. Warriors had gotten most of the mess out, but he’d missed a little, and Time worked carefully on getting out every little twig.
He listened to the two’s story with a growing sense of exasperation, (did they have no common sense?) but focused most of his attention on getting to work on Sky’s feathers, smoothing them out and tucking them back where they were supposed to go. Sky had shown him how to fix feathers in case of emergency, but Time had also watched him preen them himself many times, and remembered the basic motions.
He asked for instruction once or twice, but mostly followed the natural shape of the feathers, allowing Sky to check his progress every so often. Warriors copied his motions, and Sky’s wings slowly began to look like themselves again.
“...so that’s why Sky’s wings look like they got stuck in a blender,” Warriors finally finished explaining, and Time couldn’t help but give them both an unimpressed look, pausing in his work.
“Sky, why didn’t you just let Warriors climb the tree?” he asked, and Sky shrugged, looking sleepy.
“Mia doesn’t like him as much,” he said with a smile, then yawned, and nearly slumped onto Warriors’ shoulder before catching himself. “Uh— sorry, guess I’m kinda tired.”
“It’s fine,” Warriors shrugged, “just don’t drool on me. Or snore.”
Sky smiled at him and plunked his head on his shoulder without further ado.
Time help back a smile of his own as he watched Sky’s eyelids grow heavier, tucking away the knowledge that preening made Sky sleepy, even if he wouldn’t admit it.
By the time Sky’s wings were completely back to normal, Time was watching in amusement as Sky slept on Warriors’ shoulder, looking utterly relaxed. Warriors was dozing a bit himself, and Time was careful to get up without making any noise, letting the two of them sleep in peace.
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