#sudden urge to log on here.

[viceroywrites]

deja vu - part 1

i decided to make a full-fledged multi-chapter fic out of this idea that i posted a few days ago with a cyoa ending potentially

thanks so much to everyone who showed so much love for it and hope you enjoy this series!

this is my first time writing for gravity falls so i hope to do it justice!

planning out your road trip through the pacific northwest, you find yourself inexplicably drawn to the town of gravity falls.

little did you know that this town held more memories than you could have possibly imagined.

too bad you didn't remember any of them.

stan x fem!reader/ford x fem!reader

original fic idea | part two

tag list: @awitchersbard / @theilluminatidragonqueen / @jazzypop-op/ @maryclanders/ @chaimshelii /

@starship606/ @swimmingrascalbatdragon / @stanfordsbaby

He wasn’t in bed.

You woke up in the middle of the night to find the space beside you empty, the blankets cool to touch, indicating that a warm body had not even slipped into the sheets. Begrudgingly, you slip out of the warm comfort of your bed to search for your lover.

Your bare feet pad against the wood floorboards, creaking with each step you take. Your fingers balancing a candle that you used to illuminate the way, too lazy to try and turn on the lights. 

You descend down to the basement, pushing open the metal door that reveals an intricate lab full of oddities and gadgets with a triangle shaped portal looming just behind the glass window. You let out a yawn, approaching the figure that had his back turned towards you. His six-fingers spin the pen in his hand effortlessly as he rests his chin in the palm of his hand.

Your soft yet groggy voice calls out as you place your hand on his shoulder, “Ford, come to bed. Your research will be here in the morning.”

Stanford jumps at your sudden touch before relaxing when he hears the sound of your voice. He puts his pen down, placing his hand over yours with his thumb running soothingly over the back of your hand, “I’ll be there soon, just head back upstairs. I just need to finish this last equation that's been driving me mad the whole day.”

“Stanford…” You say with an edge to your voice, knowing that he could easily stay up the rest of the night working tirelessly on this portal that he had been working on for the past few months.

“Alright… I concede. You win this round, my dear.” Ford sighs, turning to face you finally with a tired smile. He gets up from his seat, pressing a soft kiss against the top of your head before following you up the stairs but not before looking back at the portal.

-

You had the dream again.

It always starts the same. Walking down a staircase, the floorboards creaked with each step you took. Your eyelids feel heavy almost as if you’re resisting the urge to fall asleep. Your feet carrying you down to a basement. The warm flames of the candle you hold illuminating the way.

Your fingertips push the cool metal frame of the door to reveal a figure sitting in front of a desk, facing away from you. Your hand reaches out to touch their shoulder and as they turn around to reveal their face to you, you awaken.

Your eyes open abruptly, staring at the dark ceiling as your alarm echoes through the empty room. Slowly sitting up in bed, you instinctively reach across to turn off your alarm and turn on your lamp before your hand reaches to open the drawer of your bedside table, feeling around for something. Your fingertips brush against leather and wrap around the item, pulling it out to reveal a journal.

These dreams happened almost every night over the years. It had gotten to a point where you started logging them, just trying to find any pattern or meaning behind them.

You turn to the page labeled ‘The Basement’ - adding another tally mark in the margins that you used to keep track of the frequency of each dream. You close your eyes, trying to conjure up any distinguishable features from this mystery person but nothing new arises. 

Sighing, you shut the leather-bound journal, putting it to the side.

Now was not the time to be worrying about your cryptic dreams, you were supposed to be getting ready for the trip you had been planning for the past few months. 

A road trip through the Pacific Northwest, starting in Northern California and making your way up to Seattle.

You hop out of bed to start getting ready for your journey ahead. After completing your morning routine and slipping on some comfortable clothing for the long drive, you make your way to the kitchen, grabbing the map that was stuck to the fridge with a magnet from your alma mater, Backupsmore. 

Having already packed your bags into the car the night before, your feet make a beeline out the door, wanting to hit the road before sunrise to give you enough time to hit the places you wanted to visit on the way up to your final destination for the day, Portland. 

Unraveling the map in your lap, your eyes scan over it, reviewing over the route you had planned out today. Your gaze lingered on one particular spot you had circled closer to Portland that was unlike any of the stops you had chosen.

Gravity Falls.

You couldn’t explain what drew you in to choose this town to stop in out of all the surrounding towns near Portland. You knew that you had an old friend, Fiddleford, who had moved out to this area to do research. You had even visited him once during his time out there. However, you hadn’t heard from Fiddleford in years, correspondence seemingly dropping off as he stopped answering your calls and your letters always ended up returning to you.

Trying to push aside thoughts of your lost connection, you put your car in reverse, pulling out of your parking spot and heading out onto the open road. The winding roads take you through the lush forests that enveloped the region. As each hour passed, you could see the sun slowly starting to make its way up the horizon and decided to stop to watch the sunrise at Redwood National Park. 

After the brief stop that you used to stretch your legs and grab a cup of coffee, you make your way back on the road. Your original plan was to stop at almost every National Park on the way up to Oregon but after hitting a pocket of traffic that put you behind a whole hour, you decide to skip a few stops and make your way directly to the town of Gravity Falls, figuring it would be your last stop with the remaining amount of daylight you had left.

Unfortunately, you had hit another bump in the road, pretty much derailing the first day of your methodically planned out trip.

Your car had suddenly stopped in the middle of the forest about five miles out from the town.

Cursing under your breath, you step out to assess the cause of your delay. Your hands pop open the hood of your car, breathing a slight sigh of relief when you don’t see any steam or smoke. Figuring that the most likely cause is the battery dying on you, you pull out your phone, trying to look up the nearest towing company to hopefully bring you into town to get it looked at.

As you’re waiting for the screen to load due to the poor signal out in this forested area, a gruff voice calls out, asking if you need a hand.

You look up to see a red convertible with the phrase ‘El Diablo’ etched on the side on the other side of the road. Its owner, a man with gray hair, glasses and a stubbled yet chiseled jawline, wearing a black tank, a shiny medallion that sat on his exposed graying chest hairs, and a brown leather jacket, stares back at you, one hand on the steering wheel while his arm dangles lazily outside of the rolled down window.

You pause, taken aback as something about his features seems… familiar. You quickly snap out of your stupor, realizing you’ve just been standing there in silence.

"Uhm… yeah if you have jumper cables, I just need to get my car running to get to the next town and hopefully get a replacement battery,” You reply, figuring this option would be way cheaper than hiring a whole tow truck.

"Of course, I have jumper cables, toots - look at my car, you think I haven't been stranded out here myself." The stranger chuckles, making an effortless U-Turn with one hand before pulling his car close to yours. Your cheeks warm at the nickname given to you by this man you met literally seconds ago, This guy’s a total silver fox.

You step to the side to give him access to hook up the jumper cables after he fishes them out of his own trunk. You both stand in silence while he attaches the cables to your car before his deep voice cuts through, "So uh, what brings you out here? You just driving through?"

You almost chuckle at his awkward attempt to make small talk, "Sort of. I'm doing a whole road trip through the Pacific Northwest. I was gonna check out this town ahead, Gravity Falls, before I make my way up to Portland."

The older man blinks, expecting you to just be passing through the town at this time of a day. Normally, tourists only stop into town in the early hours of the day on their own journeys up north. His lips spread into a grin, pulling out a business card from his leather jacket. "Well, if you're stopping by, you gotta check out the Mystery Shack! One stop shop for mysterious oddities!"

You take the business card with a giant question mark on the front. He retreats back to his car, turning on his engine before nodding over at you as a signal for you to start up your own engine. You slip back into the car, slipping the card into your pocket before turning on the ignition. You breathe a sigh of relief as your car stutters back to life. Glancing up, you see him grinning back at you before the two of you step out of your respective vehicles.

“Thanks again for your help… sorry, I didn’t catch your name. I’m Y/N.” You say, extending your hand out in gratitude. The silver fox’s large hand envelops yours, shaking your hand firmly, “Stan Pines, nice to meet ya. It’s no problem, wouldn’t want to leave a lady like yourself stranded in the middle of the woods.”

“Do you say that to all the ladies that end up stranded in the woods?” You can’t help but tease, earning a hearty chuckle from Stan. “Well, let’s just say that’s not a common occurrence out here. So you thinkin’ about stopping by the Mystery Shack?”

You pause, stuffing your hands into your pockets as you thumb the edge of the business card Stan had given you. On one hand, you should probably be heading back on the road to make it to Portland and this Mystery Shack sounded like a tourist trap. On the other hand, the sun was starting to set and you weren’t keen on driving through the forest in the dark. Maybe it would be best if you stayed the night in this quaint town and start again the next morning. As you look up at Stan, you make your decision, deciding to appease the man who helped you so graciously.

You also had to admit you found him quite charming and curiosity got the better of you.

“Sure, lead the way.” You say with a casual shrug. Stan grins, “I’ll make sure you get a personal tour of the Mystery Shack. No need to worry about other tourists.” Your eyebrow raises in amusement before slipping into your car, “What, you know the owner?” You blink at the smirk that spreads across Stan’s lips, “Sweetheart, you’re looking at the former owner, Mr. Mystery himself.”

You bite back a giggle, “No wonder you were laying it on thick, just trying to get more tourists to visit, huh?” Stan rolls his eyes mirthfully “Hey, I was trying to lend a helping hand… though I have a good sales pitch, don’t I?” He grins, shooting finger guns towards you with a wink.

This’ll be interesting. You think to yourself as you follow behind Stan in your car, pulling into the empty lot of the Mystery Shack. You snort, seeing how the S dangles off the side spelling out Mystery Hack, before pointing it out to Stan as he exits his car. His features grimace as he grumbles out, “I noticed” before beckoning you to follow him, twirling his keys on his index finger.

Stan proceeded to give you a detailed tour of the Mystery Shack, spinning elaborate tales surrounding the variety of taxidermy animals that he had mismatched together. Despite the absurdity of it all, you can’t help but get sucked into his tales, seeing the clear passion and excitement he had for this place. You burst out into laughter at the sight of the Sascrotch to which Stan beamed at, “Good one, right? Probably one of the highlights of the Mystery Shack.”

You weaved your way through the shack, though there were certain sections of it that looked oddly familiar. Almost like you had walked down these hallways before. A wave of deja vu hit you as you walked through the doorway into the gift shop. “Usually this is the part where I try to sell people on an overpriced souvenir but I have a feeling that the whole schtick isn’t gonna work on you, is it?” Stan admits.

“Probably not but I’ll take a look around and see if there’s anything that catches my eye.” You chuckle, making your way around the space as your eyes scan the various trinkets. Your fingertips run across the mugs with question marks painted on them. You decide to use this opportunity to make small talk as you mill around the gift shop while Stan leans back against the counter, “So, you said you’re the former owner? Who owns it now?”

“One of my former employees, Soos. Kid’s been working for me since he was… well a kid. Only person with as much passion as me about this place.” Stan says, glancing over at the Employee of the Month picture that still hung behind the counter that showed a younger Soos. “What made you step down as owner?” You hum, thumbing through the t-shirt rack. 

Stan smiles fondly, “Me and my twin brother actually just got back from traveling, we’re only in town for the summer. It was always our dream to travel the world together by boat, and we finally got to make that happen.” You look up, smiling at how warmly he spoke of his brother. Stan catches you staring and crosses his arms defensively, “What?”

“Nothing,” You say, shaking your head before thumbing through the assortment of keychains and stickers that were displayed. “So twin brother, huh? What’s he like?”

“You’re sure asking a lot of questions… not sure if I should be flattered but it feels like I’m being interrogated by a government official.” Stan comments with a grin. You pause with dramatic effect before looking up and admitting, “Well technically, I do work for the government.”

Stan freezes, his stance becoming defensive as he looks you up and down, “Oh shit, really? Man, these cover-ups are getting better and better but I swear I haven’t broken any laws… recently at least.” Your warm laughter fills the room, finding the look on his face priceless, “Relax, I work for the National Parks.” Stan’s posture relaxes at the realization and he rolls his eyes, “Alright, you got me good. So what do you do? Are you like a park ranger or something?”

“No, I’m a geoscientist. I pretty much study rocks and fossils. Kinda boring day to day but sometimes I’ll come across a precious gemstone and keep it for myself… even though we’re not supposed to take anything off a dig site.” You admit sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. “Using the government’s resources to your own advantage? I like the way you think.” Stan chuckles.

You pick out a magnet to add to your fridge when you return as a reminder of your side quest at the Mystery Shack. Stan rings you up though you notice a significant markdown in the original price after he insists on giving you the employee discount. As you walk out of the gift shop outside, you round the corner back to your car. 

Little did you know that you would run into the man that you once loved as someone with a long tan trench coat was outside fiddling with a device with his back turned to you. Stan elbows you in the arm to catch your attention, "That's my poindexter brother that I mentioned, Ford. He's always working on some geeky invention."

"You know I can hear you, Stanley?" Ford sighs, turning around to face you two.

Time slows down as he meets your eyes, memories flooding back to him before landing on the last memory he had of you - your back turning away from him, your hand slipping through his fingers after he chose to continue with his research despite your pleas.

He freezes, seeing the woman that left him all those years ago, "Y/N?" He calls out to you.

You blink, staring back at this man that you had never met before calling out your name.

Stan is just as confused as you are, looking between the two of you. 

You tilt your head in confusion, “Uhm… sorry, have we met before? How do you know my name?”

[petew21-blog]

Poolverine

Spoilers for Deadpool & Wolverine

Deadpool and Wolverine aproached Cassandra while the others were battling her soldiers. Wolverine was suppressing his rage, Deadpool, on the other hand, was suppressing his words. He was still talking, just not as much as he would normally.

Cassandra Nova was ready for everything. After all, she was here for her whole life. She has seen everything. Even Loki escaping from the void. But now, these two basically immortal beings stood in front of her. One was a bigger paij in the ass than the other.

Deadpool:"Ok, Baldilocks slash wannabe Walter White in your kingdom. We know we had our ups and downs from the moment you killed Johnny, may he rest in peace. We loved him and will never forget him. But I gotta rain on your parade here, and I hope your bald head is not too sensitive for some cold rain drops, because now is the time to let us all go and end this drama show."

Wolverine:"You said you'll be holding back."

Deadpool:"Ohhh, this is holding back. I haven't even started."

Wolverine:"She has the power to kill you with a snap of her fingers, and you still think the best way to stop her is to insult her?"

Cassandra just stood in front of them, speechless.

Deadpool:"I think your X-men spoiled you with all the WE'RE-ALL-IN-THIS-TOGETHER attitude. Well, pal! This is my show, and here, we roast our enemies before we stab them after many unsuccessful attempts, moment of desperation and a collab with Madonna."

Cassandra:"I have no idea what he is on about, but the two of you look like a married couple after twenty years of hating each other's guts. And you know what couple therapists always say to the unfunctional couple?"

Deadpool:"Yep! They say, ‘You either learn to compromise… or one of you learns to hide the body really well.’ So, which one of us is digging tonight, Logan?!"

Cassandra:"I just... How do you put up with him?"

Logan:"I have known him for like 5 hours and killed him several times."

Deadpool:"And so did I! Cute, aren't we?"

Cassandra:"I can't... See each other's perspective and get out of my sight."

The two were now transported via portal back to one of the worlds to empty Xavier mansion.

Deadpool, now in Wolverine's body, stood up and looked down. "Ohhhhh, baby, yesss. Look at these!!!" Wade now popping his new claws. "Snikt! Yeaaaah. Oh, I could get used to this."

Deadpool turned his head to the audience and said:"Hey folks. Not to alarm you. Deadpool is still here, just a slightly broody and hairier version. Only now I got! Claaaaaws!!!" Wade sliced through a nearby painting that immediatelyfell down, destroying a statue on the table. "Whoopsie. Just normal Wolverine collateral damage, am I right?"

Logan:"What the hell is this? Why am I suddenly feeling... chatty? I need to get of this tight red spandex and this horrible mask."

Deadpool is now doing ridiculous poses in the reflection of a mirror. Screaming and scratching the air. "Look at me, I'm like a Canadian action figure." Wink at the audience.

Logan:"Stop this Wilson. We need to get Charles."

Deadpool:"Oh I don't know, I got this sudden urge to sing and get a circus. We shouldn't waste time."

They both search the house, but all the X-men are gone.

Now in the privacy of a small bathroom. Deadpool, stands in front o the mirror, shirtless, flexing. "Ohhhh look at that". He pops out his claws again. "If only I had these babies during my last taco truck robbery .- I mena, purchase."

Deadpool grabs a comb on the sink. "The hair! What an untamed mane. I look like a mix between a badger and a bad scripted shampoo comercial." Then he leans closer to the mirror. "And check out this jawline. Ladies and gents, feast your eyes."

"One, two, three, four, five...six! Finally jackpot. It's really like a washboard for all my dirty clothes. I could do laundry on these bad boys, If I ever did laundry."

"And what do we have here." Deadpool raises his furry eyebrows, following the hairy trail under, leading to the massive buldge. "Oh Logan, I knew you've been hiding some serious adamantium down here, but damn. No wonder all the X-men want to sleep with you. Pun intended. I mean... If I knew that you had this much heat packed in here, I would have switched with you sooner."

Wade strikes a final pose and blows a kiss to his reflection:"Wolvie, you beautiful, hairy beast, I may never give this body back to you."

Logan enters the bathroom with a scowl, freezing in horror at the sight before him.

Deadpool in Logan's body, completely naked and a little too pleased with his new situation.

"What the hell are you doing, Wade!!!"

"Hey, Wolvie. Just getting acquainted with the goods. Man, you've been holding out for me. Honestly, If there was a claw shooting out of this thing, I wouldn't even be surprised anymore." Wade said with a smile, gripping his hard dick in Logan's face

"Get your filthy hands off my...!" Logan fighting the urge to kill his own body

"Logan, it's your hands, don't forget that. So that means I did nothing wrong. Your body that touched yourself. I haven't touched anything, if you think about it." Towards the audience:"It's like flashbacks from puberty."

"Besides, I only wanted to take your body for a test drive, Logan. You know, making sure that all the gears work before returning the keys. Quality control!"

"If you don't stop now, I'll claw off that smug off your... your real face when we get back" Logan gets closer to his old body, now feeling a strange urge to want him to get closer. Both of the bodies pulling towards each other

Deadpool:"Logan? Did you pay Magneto to get us closer? Cause I feel a strange force pulling me to you and I have to say i don't mind it"

Logan:"I'm not doing anything. I... No way. I'm trying to go away from you"

Deadpool:"Oh yeah, it's happening, baby. My body can't resist this beautiful, hairy pile of muscles, and your body is controlled by one of the most perverted minds alive."

"YOU SICK BASTARD. This is all your twisted head. If you'll be enjoying even a second of this." Logan shouted

Deadpool:"Oh, come on. It's just chemistry. You can't fight it"

Logan:"Gotta get control of this."

Deadpool:"No need for that. Your body's got the hots for me. I'm a walking talking thirst trap now. Give in, big guy. Let's make it weird."

Logan now with his new hands still in spandex, touching his old body. "Wade... When this is over... I'm going to make you regret all of this."

Deadpool:"I'm counting on it. But until then, you're mine"

Wade pulls of his old mask down from Logan's head:"Ohhh there is that crispy chipsy face I haven't seen for a while". Logan:"Please just shut up"

Their hands our now all over each other. Logan's burly figure standing above Deadpool's figure. Logan's body under Wade's control now pushes his old body towards the wall. Breaking it. They get to Cyclops and Jean's bedroom, now vacant, ready for their action. Dadpool starts making out with his body still on the ground from the collision. Logan wants to fight back, but gives up and makes out with his bearded face. It feels kind of nice, but he can't ever admit that to Wade.

Wade picks up Logan from the ground using his claws, and with their help, he rips of the spandex off of Logan. Scratching him in the process. Logan now moaning in pain, looking deeply into his old eyes. He now understands why many people called him a "beast." He did look like one. But sexy one at that.

Wade threw Logan on the bed. Turning him around. Logan was ready for immediate penetration, but suddenly he felt a moist thing pushing its way between Deadpool's hairy ass. Was he now experiencing rimming? "Wade, no...!"

Deadpool:"Don't worry, sweetpie. I know what my body likes. Just relax, enjoy and don't fart in my face"

Logan has never felt this feeling in such an intimate place. And it wasn't even his body.

Wade now turned Logan to his back. He positioned himself. "Ready? I know you're used to pain, but this might be a bit... unsettling."

Logan:"I can take a bit of pain... AHHHHHHH"

Deadpool."Sorry, boo. Haven't stretched out that thing for quite a while."

He started pushing more and more. At that moment, Logan tried to get up and leave. But something in Logan's body overtook Wade. He took both of his claws and pushed them through Deadpool's body's forearms, securing him in place. Logan screamed in pain. "Why???"

Deadpool:"Don't want you to give up during the best part when it stops hurting"

Sweat was dripping from Logan's body all over Deadpool's. All of Logan's hair were now glistening in sweat.

"Ohhhh moth.... This is so amazing. I feel like a Republican during the Fourth of July" Deadpool screamed out while his claws were still in place.

He picked up the pace, and when he saw that Logan was now moaning in pleasure and not in pain, he took out his claws and just enjoyed the ride.

"Oh Wolvie. I think I'm gonna get you pregnant now."

"Just fuck me!!!"

Now very close to the finish, Deadpool took out his dick and pointed it at his old face, cumming all over his old chest and hitting his body's eye. Logan came too, but on his stomach. He was still mesnerized. How come, through all these years, he never even thought about stimulating his prostate?

Both now watching each other, sweaty, out of breath.

Logan:"You won't tell a soul."

Deadpool looking at the audience, smirking:"Promise"

And at the corner of the room a quiet girly voice spoke out:"Promise". Kitty sunk into the wall leaving embarassed to the next room

Message from Inbox :)

Yo, i love your writing. And with your last story with Hugh and Ryan....What about their characters?, Wolverine and Deadpool swapping bodies thanks to Cassandra Nova powers that also made them aroused for each other in order to distract them from stopping her. Wade can't help but to give into Logan's body urges to dominate, and Logan just want the voices gone.

[spooky-pomegranate]

They'll Hear Us

Captain Price x F Reader (18+) 🔥🔥🔥 Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: On the eve of your first mission with Taskforce 141 your nerves have you wired. You beg Price to help you find some release but he worries the others will hear you through the walls of the dingy safe-house. Will you be able to stay quiet?

The air was thicker in Virginia than it was in London and it stuck heavily in Price’s lungs. The fire dwindling in the corner of the safehouse bedroom didn’t help his breathing much either but without it, Price worried you wouldn’t be able to sleep. It was cold inside the old creaking house and the dark clouds just outside the windows looked ready to release a snowfall at any minute.

He really should have asked Laswell for a hotel in the capitol instead of this dingy place. Someplace nice with working heaters, room service, and a spa he could have taken you to relax in. It would have meant a longer trek to the hangar in the morning, but at least you and the rest of the boys would have had a decent night's sleep.

Price stepped away from the window and threw another log into the fire before turning to look across the room. You looked peaceful tucked into the small bed in the corner. You’d fallen asleep almost immediately after getting to the safehouse. The plane ride over had taken a heavier toll on you than he’d expected. Military cargo planes were loud. He’d nearly forgotten about his first ride in one all those years ago. But the look on your face when the engines had roared to life, had reminded Price just how uncomfortable the ride could be.

He’d sat next to you on the flight and the entire ride your leg had bounced up and down, brushing back and forth against his own. Much like your tendency to speak at breakneck speeds, he knew this was a nervous habit of yours. He’d seen you do it on occasion when you felt too overwhelmed to speak your discomfort. He had wanted to reach out and hold your hand, touch your thigh, or simply lean into your ear and whisper that everything would be alright but he couldn’t. Not when the rest of the 141 could see. And if he had touched you it would have only served as fuel for distraction and he needed to keep the team focused. So as much as it had pained him he had kept his hands to himself.

Price watched as you shifted in your sleep and the blankets pulled down to reveal the curve of your neck. He felt a sudden urge to trace his fingers along that curve, to lean down and press his lips over your soft skin. But he again restrained himself from touching you and instead, he shook his head. This wasn’t the time. You needed to sleep. Tomorrow was too important.

With a heavy sigh, Price turned away from the bed and headed towards the balcony. He needed some fresh air to clear his head.

As he stepped out into the cold night, Price pulled his sweater around himself. Snow had started to fall lightly, the tiny flakes danced in the air as they drifted down to the ground. He leaned against the cold metal railing and took a deep breath, the icy air stung his lungs. He closed his eyes and listened to the quiet, the only sound came from the occasional gust of wind that rustled the trees. It was peaceful. It was relaxing.

But then the silence was interrupted. The balcony door creaked open and Price heard the sound of soft footsteps. He turned and opened his eyes. You stood in the doorway, wearing sweatpants and a thick woolen sweater. A blanket was wrapped tightly around your shoulders. But it was the way the soft orange glow of the fireplace behind you and the snowflakes caught in your hair that made his heart skip a beat. You looked heavenly. Like a vision plucked straight from his sweetest dreams.

“I had a nightmare,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the falling snow. “Just needed some air.”

Price nodded and opened his arms.

“Come here,” he said.

You stepped into his embrace and he held you tightly, rubbing your back. The snowflakes melted into your hair and your blanket, but you didn’t seem to care.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked softly, still holding you close. You shook your head and buried your face into his chest. He looked down at you, taking in the sight of your face, soft and sweet illuminated by the pale moonlight.

“I love you,” he murmured into the crown of your head. The words came easy.

You looked up at him.

“I love you too.”

Price pulled you closer, his hand cupping the back of your head as he leaned down to capture you in a tender kiss. Your lips were soft and supple against his. A warmth in his chest spread and grew like the fire roaring inside. A quiet whimper passed from your lips as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding along your lower lip before delving into your mouth.

For a moment, the two of you were lost, the world around you fading into oblivion. His hands slid down your back, pulling you tighter against his chest. The cold air no longer mattered, the snowflakes melting against his skin forgotten in the quiet moment.

Finally, Price pulled away, his forehead resting gently against yours as he caught his breath.

“It’s too cold out here,” he said.

“Mm’not cold,” you mumbled.

“You will be. Come on, love.”

Price took your hand and led you back into the safe house. He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled you down beside him. The fire in the corner was still burning, casting a warm glow across the room. You snuggled into his side and for a while, the two of you just sat there, wrapped up in each other's arms, enjoying the quiet of the night. The fire crackled and popped in the background, sending sparks flying up the chimney.

But as the fire started to dwindle, your hands started to wander. You reached out placing a palm along his thigh and slowly your soft hand slid higher and higher. But just as you were about to run your fingers over Price’s clothed cock he quickly reached forward and grabbed your wrist.

“We can’t.”

You looked at him. Eyes wide, wanton, pleading. Begging without saying a word.

“They’ll hear.”

With a long sigh, you took your hand back from Price and it through your hair with exasperation.

“I feel like I’m going to explode, Price. I’ll be quiet. Please.”

Price knew that your nerves were getting to you. The impending what-ifs of tomorrow's mission had worked you up and coiled you tight like a knot. He knew the feeling well. That buzz, the visions of what could go wrong, the fear that you'd forgotten some minute but critically important detail. It was an awful feeling. Uncomfortable and intolerable. It had caused him nightmares too.

Over the years he had tried many different ways to quell the feeling. Alcohol. Tobacco. Endless books on every subject imaginable. But he’d never done this. He’d never reached for another person. It wasn’t like he normally had a warm body in his bed the night before a mission. And while he knew that he could coax you out of your uneasiness he couldn’t help you like this. Not when the others could hear. It wasn’t a good idea.

But then you spoke… and your words broke his resolve.

“I’ll be quiet, baby. I promise you. I’ll be good. I’ll be so good for you.”

Fucking hell.

You’d never called him that before. Baby. It flipped a switch in Price. He could feel the blood in his veins quicken. And without a second thought his hands reached for you, touching you everywhere he could, ripping every piece of clothing from your body that got in his way.

Price pulled his own sweater over his head and you reached for his belt. Your anxious fingers fumbled against the leather and you huffed out an exasperated breath of air. The metal buckle slipped from your hands.

“It’s okay, love. Lay back. I’ll take care of you.”

You did as he asked, quickly crawling into the center of the bed. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly as Price undid his buckle and kicked off his pants and underwear. You squirmed, impatient and more eager than he’d ever seen you before. Your hands fisted in the sheets, clutching them so tightly your knuckles were turning white.

Usually, Price would take his time with you and worship every inch of skin you offered to him with sweet kisses, licks, and bites. But he knew that wasn’t what you needed. That would be tortuous and cruel of him. Right now you needed relief and he would do anything to give it to you. Especially when you looked at him like you were now.

He crawled over you and you eagerly spread your legs apart. Price leaned in, resting his lips against the shell of your ear as you wrapped your arms and legs around him. Even in this cold room, Price thought every inch of your skin felt hot like you were on fire.

“Can you take me like this?” he whispered.

“Yes. Yes. Please, baby please.”

Fuck there you went again calling him that sweet name. Who was he to deny you?

Price slowly pushed into you. Giving you his cock inch by inch. He could tell it was agonizing for you, going this slow. He knew you needed all of him but he’d never jumped straight to fucking you like this. He’d always worked you open with his mouth or his fingers, stretching you in preparation for what was to come.

And fuckkkk... you were so fucking tight without it.

Your soaking wet cunt was just as desperate as your mouth had been begging and pleading for him. You were gripping him so possessively Price felt like you were pulling him further inside you. It was intoxicating. He wasn’t sure he’d last long but he was going to try as hard as he could.

He picked up his pace. Plunging deep inside of you over and over again. The sounds of skin against skin and your pitifully hushed moans filled the room.

“Is that what you needed, love? Needed my cock like this?” he whispered softly into your ear, biting down on your lobe when you didn’t answer him right away.

You pulled your head from Price’s shoulder and just as he thought you were going to finally answer him, a pathetically loud moan passed from your pretty pink lips. Price panicked. He stopped his movements and quickly slapped his hand over your mouth before pushing you back into the pillow.

“Shhhh. Not so loud, love. You promised you’d be good.” Tears pricked in your eyes. “Can you do that? Can you be good for me?”

You nodded underneath Price’s large calloused hand. He started to move again, setting another fast pace. Your body was shaking as you clung to him. Your hands frantically digging into his back and neck. Price snapped his hips harder and he felt the skin on his back break open. He knew he’d have painful marks tomorrow but he didn’t care. You needed this. You deserved this.

Then suddenly your wet warm tongue darted out and licked against his hand. Price’s hips faltered. His cock twitched. Fuck. That had nearly been enough to make him come. But he couldn’t come. No. Not yet. You had to be first. He wanted you spent before he was going to spill inside you. Shit. You felt so good. He needed to get you there now.

Price wrapped his hands around both of your shoulders and pulled you down onto his cock impaling you over and over and over again as hard as he could. He closed his eyes tight, trying to will himself not to come inside you.

He could feel your pulse throbbing rapidly as he slammed into you. He angled his hips upward to reach that spot inside you that normally made you whine and mewl and cry out his name.

“Come on, sweetheart. Be a good girl.” Price whispered, panting hard as sweat dripped from his brow. “Come for me.”

You spasmed. He knew this was it.

“Price, I…”

He pulled away from your shoulder so he could watch your face, but when you parted your lips he worried you were going to scream. So he quickly covered your mouth again. Your eyes rolled back and you bit down on his hand.

The pain. The pleasure.

Price was suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that he couldn't breathe. He couldn’t think. He couldn't focus on anything but the way you were clenching and contracting, greedily trying to milk his cock as you came around him.

Fuck it was hard not to come. His cock twitched again, desperate for release, but he fought to stay in control. He wasn’t done. It wasn’t time. You were still coming and he wanted you to ride out your high for one simple reason. Price was selfish. His favorite part of sex with you was indulging in every single aspect of your undoing. And he wasn’t going to deny himself his favorite sin. He loved the feeling of every quiver and every muscle spasm you made as you came apart. He loved the way your hands tightly circled around his body. He loved the way your eyes widened and your chin tilted toward the ceiling. He loved knowing that no one else in the world could make you feel the way he did.

He loved it all too much to be distracted by his own release. And so he restrained himself.

Price watched as you slowly came down from your orgasm. Your once desperate clutch against him slowly released, your fingers uncurled from his back and neck. The tension in your body wayned into sweet and blissful relaxation. Only once you stilled completely did Price let his hand slip away from your mouth before sinking his head into your shoulder. Then with a low groan, he pushed in as hard as he could and held himself deeply within you.

His orgasm was powerful. More powerful than he’d expected. He bit down on your shoulder to keep himself quiet. Or as quiet as he could be. Fuckkkkkk you felt so good. And you tasted even better. Salty from sweat and slightly smokey from the fire.

“Price…” you whispered, your voice hoarse and slightly dry.

He lifted his head to see you. Your back was arched and your eyes were squinted shut. Sweat matted down your hair and the muscles in your neck and arms twitched as you silently struggled to keep still.

“Was I good?”

Were you good? Price couldn’t help but laugh.

“Good?” Price leaned down to kiss you, his lips gently meeting yours. “You were perfect. You always are, love.”

You smiled and Price’s heart felt full.

It wasn’t much longer until you both fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms. If only he had known what was coming he would have stayed with you in bed forever. But eventually, the morning came and so did the mission.

-----------------------------------------------------

(More from this story)

[faizhang]

hi oomfs! it's been a while.

felt the urge to log in here again because i was hit by a sudden bout of nostalgia (in the middle of a quarter life crisis because i am growing old but i still feel so young blablabla all that good stuff)

fyi, i'm now 24... time sure flies. i think the last time i was consistently active here was halfway through high school when i was 15-16. now i have a degree in public health and i'm already halfway through med school. that's insane.

wondering how many of you from back then are still here. how has everyone been? i hope you're all doing good :)

[hannahssimblr]

And so, begins an intense drive for work like I have never experienced. Perhaps work is the wrong word, as not much about creating art feels that way. Never before with ordinary, academically focussed work have I adopted this kind of extraordinary discipline to the point that I simply get through the motions of the ins and outs of my ordinary days, looking forward to the moment that I can lock myself away in my bedroom and draw for the evenings and into the night.

I draw everything in sight. I study fabric; the crinkle of the duvet, the crease in my pillows and the piles of discarded clothing on my bedroom floor. I draw the curtains from ten positions, then ten more. I study the exacting edges of man made objects. The hard, smooth ceramic of the mugs I should have brought back to the kitchen days ago, the individual keys of my laptop, a tastefully arranged stack of books from dad’s library that he surely won’t notice are missing unless he has a sudden urge to read about the battle of the bulge or Haguenau for the thousandth time. 

Mostly I study myself, my own anatomy, feet, legs, arms and fingers and all of the weird little bits of me that move about beneath the skin. I fill pages and pages this way, so many that I run out of paper and start drawing in between all of the drawings I’ve already done, overlapping like the work of an obsessed madman. Maybe I am. 

Have I eaten today? 

Often I pull up a mirror and study my own face in different ways. I pull different expressions or control the lighting so that I can create soft, diffused light in the early morning, or cast angular shadows over my cheek with the artificial glow of a desk light when the sun sets and the room around me is black like spilled ink. 

At school when I lay my work on the table for Miss O’Reilly I’m embarrassed by how many drawings of my own likeness cram the bursting pages of my sketchbooks. They look like the journals of a raving egomaniac to me, but to her it resembles art. She tells me that I show a lot of real promise, and that I have more to learn. I agree with her, and spend lunchtime in the library.

Art and science, it seems, go hand in hand. Hunched in a dark corner where nobody can see how uncool I have become, I pore over anatomy diagrams and look at muscles and tendons and bones. I learn what everything is called and the shape it makes when the skin is pulled taut over it. 

When it is curved on one side, it’s straight on the other, I observe, as I draw my finger down the length of an illustrated thigh on page sixty four of Biology Plus for Leaving Cert, trying not to think about how this is probably the closest I’ve come to intimacy with another human being in months, and as someone as uncontrollably and constantly horny as I am it’s becoming difficult to ignore. Maybe I should text Tara Neary and ask if she’ll help me study biology…

No.

I hastily skip over the pages about reproduction and start reading about something called the Cephalic vein instead. Sexy. 

I even log into the library computers and watch disgusting medical videos of dissections which make me feel so ill that I think I might lose my lunch, but they are informative as much as they make me feel like I am displaying psychopathic behaviour and worry that I am on a slippery slope towards becoming one of those people that murders cats and rabbits just so that he can cut them up and peer at their insides. What’s next? Robbing graves?

“Look up blue waffle next.”

I jump, and spin around to Jen who is leaning over my shoulder, and I quickly close all windows from the Video Atlas of Human Anatomy website. “And that’s fucking sick, whatever that is.” 

“Jesus, Jen, you scared me.”

“Only because I caught you looking at something you shouldn’t.” 

“It’s just biology,” I grumble, and she pinches my arm before pulling up a seat and slumping into it, “I didn’t think I’d find you here of all places. The elusive Jude Turner.”

“Is that what they call me now?”

“I’m afraid so. But honestly I thought you were doing something way more interesting with all your alone time these days.”

“I’m studying.”

“Do you know how to study?”

“Clearly.” 

She sighs, “Well can you give it a rest? I miss you. We don’t hang out enough lately.”

“It’s not because I hate you or something…”

“I know, you’re busy, busy, busy, drawing all the time. Ugh. I get it. Is this how you’re going to be all summer too? Down on the beach in Wexford drawing scabby seagulls?”

“If you wanted to hang out you could always come over to my house and let me draw you again, as long as you won’t move around so much this time.”

“I can’t not move!” She says in outrage, and as the librarian promptly shushes her she lowers the volume, “It’s so boring just to sit there and do nothing, I can’t think of anything worse. Oh no wait, I can, it’s hanging out with Michelle and Evan without you there to laugh at them with me. And now that it’s getting warmer and the days are longer I just want to be outside, but my only options are to sit in the park and watch them kiss or go for a sad walk all on my own, Judie,” she takes my hands, “Please, give it a rest. Down the pencils, I’m begging you.”

“I just really like learning about this.”

“Yes, but can you like it six days a week instead of seven? Can you give me a day? A measly day for old Jenny?”

“I see you Tuesdays still,” I point out, though I know that grilling her with maths questions while she groans in despair into her pillow isn’t exactly her definition of fun, but can’t she see that this is important to me? I can’t forgo my Ivy duties or rugby, so I must forgo my social evenings instead. Something's got to give, and now it has, and for the good of my future I have stopped texting everyone back. 

“We’re having a bonfire night at the weekend, will you come?”

“Who is?”

“Me and my friends.”

“The emos.”

“Yeah, the emos. What other friends do I have? Now that it’s finally semi-warm-ish we thought we’d have a fun night up by the beach and just sit around and chat by the fire. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“Well, yeah,” I admit reluctantly. “I do like a bonfire.”

“Of course you do, my little arsonist. So come. It’ll be good for you to get out and do something. You’re an extrovert, you’re not meant to be so cooped up.”

I begin to protest that I don’t feel cooped up, even, astoundingly, when I’m at home with my family. I feel alive and free in my artistic pursuits since I’ve unlocked this new exciting part of myself. I’m capable of focussing on something, doesn’t Jen understand how significant that is? But then again,  maybe she’s right. Maybe it’s abnormal not to socialise with other teenagers for three weeks in a row. 

“Alright, I’ll come then.”

“That’s more like it,” Jen ruffles my hair, no doubt getting it all out of place, but it’s fine, I’ll fix it later in the mirror when I’m back drawing my nose or my chin for the umpteenth time. “We’ll have a lovely time! I’m excited now!”

“Yeah, don’t get too excited, I feel like the librarian might have something to say about that.”

Jen peers around to see the daggers being shot her way, “Okay, fine. I’ll leave you alone.”

“You promise?”

“Yes! Look, I’m going!” She untangles her legs from the chair and does a whole show of sneaking away as quietly as humanly possible while watching the librarian with performative caution, “Hey,” She hisses from the door, just when I had started to believe she was truly gone, “Don't forget to look up blue waffle. Trust me.”

“Get out of here!”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[girl-mercury]

okay, i'll bite: "timegem" is quite the compelling word! 💎 reveal to us a piece of the war-tinted romance! 🇺🇸

(from the WIP meme, where i listed my many, many WIPs and asked for people to let me know what they're curious about)

This fic is set not long after Captain America: Winter Soldier, and through the power of the Time Gem or whatever the stone is called, Steve makes a wish for a second chance and old dying Peggy is spontaneously young again! How great, now she and Steve can live together here in the future, it all worked out!

... except, she's like 93 years old, in life experience. She doesn't know what a PDF is, okay? She's been married and widowed twice, she has great-grandchildren, and she has spent decades creating the legacy of an intelligence agency meant to keep the world safe, crafting connections across the world to ensure the stability of this institution that can weather its missteps and, she hopes, do more good than bad.

And Steve, her lost love from her twenties, just cannonballed into the side of that institution and blew up her entire legacy, to rightfully destroy the tentacles HYDRA had buried deep within it, but with no thought to preserving anything or anyone SHIELD kept safe, or keeping any of its secrets. Peggy might not have been the most fanatical as some of the Cold War hawks out there, and certainly had pursued the process of accountability for a number of bad containment policies of those decades, but the shades of grey she learned to see and Steve never had the chance to are making their sudden reunion a lot more complicated.

So she decides, time to go on a trip and see the world she had a hand in making, now that she's almost anonymous again. Along the way, she spends time with Fury, Natasha, and Bucky, and eventually finds her way back to Steve.

A SNIPPET:

Peggy slowly blinked awake in the morning sunlight, feeling an ache in her muscles like she had just completed a marathon, which wasn’t that inaccurate, really. She was in Steve’s apartment, and it was 2015, and she was in her twenties, give or take seven decades. It was luxurious, to wake up and be present in knowing where and when she was with a mind she could depend on. (It was also luxurious to have better options for sex than Milt and John asking her over bingo if she wanted to be in a threesome with them. Nursing home hookup culture was not for her, at least not if men were involved.)

Steve was asleep, laying rigidly flat on his back despite not having been limited to an Army cot in years. The sun glinted against his golden hair, and she resisted the urge to run her hand over it, not wanting to wake him. Instead, she pulled button-up shirt from his closet on, leaving the scrubs she’d commandeered from the hospital on the floor, and headed for the kitchen. The coffeemaker was simple and similar enough to the ones she was used to that she was able to get a pot started, after locating the bag of coffee in a cabinet. A quick peek out the front door (after checking for anyone looking in the hallway; she was aware of the security risk) revealed no newspaper on the doormat, which was a shame. Steve’s laptop was on the table, but she hadn’t used a computer in years, and even then it had been one of the big ones in the nursing home where someone had already turned it on and helped her log into her email. She had had a bit more luck with Google searches and saving her favorite news websites, but that had more to do with her understanding of Boolean expressions through codebreaking and programming, decades before anyone dreamed up Google. 

She was younger than some of her grandchildren, but couldn’t figure out these damn computers. She’d have to learn, that and everything else that young people did. It was almost enough to make her tired at the thought. She’d programmed computers in the forties, for heaven’s sake. Then the computers got small and difficult. And turned into phones that weren’t really phones anymore. 

Peggy sighed at herself. No matter what the mirror might say, she was old. 

She was on her second cup of coffee when Steve joined her in the kitchen. “I made a full pot,” she said. “I knew you’d be up eventually."

“I was going to cook you breakfast,” he said, and yawned. “I never sleep this late."

“You must have needed it."

“After last night? Probably.” He smiled, and leaned over to kiss her. “So, how many eggs do you want?"

“Oh, none, thank you. I’m not really a breakfast person, not since my youngest moved out,” Peggy said. 

“More for me, then."

“Do you get the newspaper?"

“Only on the weekends.” Steve took the carton of eggs from the fridge. There wasn’t a lot of other food in there. “Usually I just read the headlines on my phone."

“Well, I want to start getting caught up on the world, since I’m back in it."

Steve cracked eight eggs into the pan. “I think I still have all my bookmarks from when I was trying to get caught up. I can pull them up on the laptop for you."

“I’ve only got a few years to cover, thankfully,” Peggy said and smiled. She got up and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I'm actually  more used to reading briefs, when I was the director, so I may ask Sharon to get a few of her less-busy resources to draft briefs for me. I’m more interested in SHIELD’s involvement, so any analyst who can bring together the public record and the leaked SHIELD files would be best."

“Hill might be able to point you in the right direction, since she’s basically managing what’s left of SHIELD resources these days…"

“Thank you for the offering your bookmarked pages, though,” Peggy said belatedly. “I just have my habits, you know. When you’re in charge of an intelligence organization you don’t get much of a chance for leisurely reading, and a pile of briefs is much more useful to me than anything else."

“I’m sure it is,” Steve replied, and slid the fried eggs out onto a plate, then doused them heavily in hot sauce. Peggy winced as the vinegary smell drifted towards her, the accompanying spice burning her nostrils, but she knew Steve would probably think it was just a pleasant kick. “I haven’t had to deal with that side of things too much, on the strategy and operations side. I’m not sure I’d be too good with the diplomacy."

Peggy snorted. “Stick with your strengths, Steve.” She imagined him in some of the delicate situations she had managed; negotiating operational freedom between autocratic countries sounded explosive, with Steve in the middle of it, yet she had not come to it as a natural, either. “After the war, I had to deal with a lot of men who didn’t know my value, and I tended to charge right through any battle, to show I could punch as hard as they could. But sometimes I had to be more sneaky to get done what I wanted, and… well, you grow into the diplomacy."

“I guess you would,” Steve said. “You’ve lived quite a life, it just feels different now that—"

“That I look like I did when we met?” Peggy asked. 

“That you talk like you did,” Steve said. “You’ve told me stories, over the past few years, but they were just things that happened in the past, if you could remember all the details. Now you’re talking like the director of SHIELD. Hell, you sound like Fury combined with a few of the NSA divisional directors we’ve collaborated with, and maybe a few State Department officials thrown in."

Peggy raised her eyebrows. “You did read my CV at some point, didn’t you?"

Steve laughed. “It looks a little different on paper than sitting at my kitchen table."

“And you didn’t even read the classified CV,” said Sharon, coming around the corner.

“Goddammit, Carter, can you stop breaking into my apartment?” Steve complained.

“Romanoff said you didn’t mind,” Sharon countered. “Hi, Aunt Peggy."

“Romanoff is consistently full of shit. Especially when she’s talking about me."

“Hi, Sharon. You know, you’re going to have to drop the ‘aunt’ sooner or later, before it gets strange,” Peggy said over Steve’s grumbling. 

“Probably, but I’m not used to all this yet,” said Sharon. “I brought you clothes. I had to guess the sizes, but I figured these had enough stretch to make up for anything being the wrong size. I don’t want to cut your morning short, but we’ve got a meeting with Hill."

“I thought we might,” Peggy said, and stood. “Give me fifteen minutes to shower and get ready, and we can go."

“I’ll only take five minutes,” said Steve. “And can you return my spare key, please?"

Sharon let out a laugh. “I don’t need a key, Rogers."

[sacredwrath]

P1. You

Revenge, whumper turned whumpee, caretaker turned whumper, violence, slightly graphic description of throat cutting, death wish, very vauge suicidal ideation/ attempt?, implied future violence

Rain beats down on the roof of Logan's car, making it difficult to see the road ahead of him. The inconspicuous road to their home isn't lit, but usually, that isn't much of a problem. Even at night, they all know the road well enough to navigate it in the dark. Just use the headlights and drive painfully slow. Tonight though, with rain pouring all around, Logan wishes he had installed something to at least illuminate the cliff edge.

He crawls along, hardly touching the gas irritated at the delay. In the passenger seat a box of takeout grows colder by the second.

He rounds a bend and sees something lying in the road. It looks like a log, or maybe an unlucky deer, but as he gets closer he can clearly see a hand poking from the mess of fabric.

"Fuck" He exhales, slamming the brakes. No one on earth knows about this driveway except him and his team. Why would someone have come so far from the main road? And without any sign of a vehicle? Was it a hit and run? None of his team would've just left a random person laying in the road.

He jumps from the car, rain immediately soaking him through. Thunder rolls above him, and in the brief flash of light, he can see the body clearly.

The person must be freezing. They're not dressed for this weather. A thin, mud caked coat clings to them, heavy with rain.

A flash of misgiving shoots through him. He's seen this before. An injured person laying in the road, a trusting passerby jumping out to help them only to be ambushed. Highway robberies are more common now than they ever were before the collapse.

He freezes in his tracks, scanning the trees around him. Nothing.

He can't just leave the person lying in the road, plus if this was a robbery, why come all the way out here to do it? Surely, they'd have more luck on a busy highway.

Unless it's a trap spesifically for him or someone on his team.

"Hey" He shouts, but his voice is dampened by the rain. If the figure hears him, they don't show it.

Cautiously he takes a few steps closer and nudges the figure with the toe of his boot. Still nothing.

Crouching, he shakes their shoulder.

"Hey, buddy?"

The body rolls onto its back, head flopping over to reveal their face. Logan gasps, leaping to his feet like he's been burned.

It's Morgan. Intelligence specialist Adrian Morgan, the putrid filth of a man who spent six weeks torturing Jesse. What the fuck is he doing here? On their hidden road laying in the mud and rain, half dead at Logan's feet.

He growls, trying to keep from breaking his teeth on his sudden fury.

Why the hell would Morgan come here? How did he even find this place? Is this a trap from AQUA? He doesn't care.

He kicks the man awake. Morgan’s eyelids flutter open. He groans, eyes rolling back repeatedly as he fails to focus on Logan's face.

Logan presses his boot into the man's cheek, grinding his face hard into the mud.

"You" Logan growls, voice cold and low. It sounds somehow unfamiliar to him. His ears are ringing, or maybe it's his whole head.

"Me" Morgan grunts. Logan wants to feel his skull snap beneath his boot. He releases him.

Morgan struggles to rise, but collapses in a peal of thunder. He shudders, head falling back with a small splash, eyes drifting shut. Raindrops pool in his eye sockets, dripping down his face like tears. Logan's lips twist into a sneer.

The man doesn't seem afraid. Logan wants him afraid.

Rage builds hotter in Logan's gut, he feels sick with it. He lunges, grabbing Morgan’s shirt collar and pulling him right up close. The man doesn't fight back.

"Why the fuck are you here? You piece of shit." He spits through gritted teeth. "Come to terrorize my family?... Again." He shakes him, fighting the urge to throw him back to the mud.

Morgan says nothing, and the ringing grows louder in Logan's ears. Vaguely, he realizes he's tearing the mans shirt, nearly strangling him. He clenches his fist harder.

Logan pulls a knife from his belt and presses it hard into the soft skin of Morgan’s neck. His adam's apple bobs, knicking against the blade, but he makes no move to pull away. Red rimmed eyes fixate on Logan's own, boring into him with equal intensity.

"Do it." He snarls. "You know how bad you fucking want it." He jerks his head forward pressing his throat into the blade. "Think how good it'll feel-"

Logan draws the knife slowly across his throat, feeling Morgan's body jerk against him. He fights the rage, fights the urge to dig the blade in deeper, the urge to feel its edge catch against the delicate bones of his neck.

Instead, he opens a shallow gash across the man's windpipe, only narrowly avoiding his carotid artery. Hot blood spills over his hands, pouring down the front of Morgan’s shirt, mixing with the ice cold rain.

"Coward," Morgan hisses, raising a hand to his throat.

Logan releases him and the man collapses back to the ground.

"You don't deserve it." He spits. "As badly as I want to kill you right now, a quick death is too good for a monster like you." He kicks the man again before hauling him up to deliver a punch to the side of his head. Morgan goes limp in his arms, and Logan drags him to the car.

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Taglist: @whumpacabra

[pocket-lad]

AOH my god has this been done before wait. Huge Adelaide “death” scare (not dead !! Never . But def roughed up and unconscious) I’m unsure where this could fit into any of the amazing fics u made but we need Ian inconsolable , I want this man in tears almost if that man even cries. All the angst. (then the insurmountable relief and softness when she wakes up lol) You characterize him super well, I’m so curious to see what you could possibly do with this idea..

Let's tear this man down >:)

~

Alan marched into the bunker with Ellie, intent on locating a gun or two to take these raptors out. And then they were out of here for good. It was a shame he also had some devastating news to deliver - news that might get him killed by something other than a dinosaur.

It all happened in the blink of an eye. They were in a large clearing, maybe a mile from the visitor’s center, when a herd of Gallimimus wheeled directly toward them. It was so fascinating, the way they flocked like birds. He honestly could have sat there all day.

But they were very large dinosaurs, and he was in charge of three exhausted, vulnerable people. Urged on by Adelaide, Lex, and Tim, Alan sprinted back the direction they came, each hand holding onto a child for dear life.

A big log rested on the grass ahead, and it offered as good of protection as any. Without slowing down, he and the kids leapt over the side then pressed their backs against it, waiting for the dinosaurs to pass. But as he did so, he felt the infinitesimal weight on his shoulders disappear and a faint scream filled the air.

When he realized what it was, it was too late. Alan’s head whipped around to locate Adelaide and catch her, but the moment his eyes landed on her was the moment of impact.

Before her body could tumble off the side of the log, Alan gathered her up and held her close to his chest so that they could wait out the herd. She wasn’t moving.

The dinosaurs disappeared, but Alan was too scared to pull Adelaide into the light. He sat there, blinking and breathing, nothing more.

“Dr. Grant?” Lex said, worried by the sudden shift in his demeanor.

That was all Alan needed to pull himself out of it. He slowly extricated his hand from his chest and laid his palm out flat.

Adelaide laid limply in his hand, her limbs bending every which way and her hair splayed out across his palm. Alan floated her around, trying to get a good angle to see if her chest still moved. When he couldn’t see anything, he held her up against his ear. He didn’t hear anything, either. He had no way to know if she was breathing.

“Is she okay?” Tim asked.

“I don’t know.”

***

Malcolm was going to kill him. There was no world in which Malcolm didn’t kill him. Alan couldn’t say he didn’t deserve it. It was now a matter of how to break it to the man.

The first thing Alan heard when he entered the bunker was, “Where are they? Where is she? Are they okay?”

The only sound that followed was the hum of the emergency lights.

There was no point delaying the inevitable. Ian, Ellie, and Hammond watched Alan intently as he reached into his chest pocket and pulled out an impossibly tiny person. Ellie already knew what was coming. She couldn’t bear to watch, yet somehow she couldn’t force herself to look away.

Alan held Adelaide out on his palm.

“What - what - what’s this?” Ian asked.

Alan closed his eyes. “Ian, you have to understand-”

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no, you bring me - you bring me Adelaide right - right now.”

“Ian-”

Ian quickly snatched Adelaide from Alan’s hand and held her up to his own eyes. If her chest was moving, he sure couldn’t see it. In an effort to quell the sudden burst of anger and sadness and fear and guilt, his jaw tightened so hard he thought his teeth would shatter. He slowly raised his gaze up to Alan. “What happened?” he seethed.

“We were running and I jumped over a log. She fell from my shoulder and I couldn’t catch her in time. I’m sorry.”

Ian looked Adelaide up and down, his eyes flickering back and forth in disbelief. She was so small, even smaller when she wasn’t awake to try to make herself look bigger. Even collapsed and unconscious, putting no effort into holding herself up, she was still so light. He gently nudged each of her limbs into place so that she at least looked comfortable. They moved all too easily under his fingers. 

“Della,” he whispered. “Della, come on. We’re going to get out of here, Della. Adelaide, come on.”

“Ian-” Ellie interrupted, tears welling in her eyes.

Ian ignored her. He held Adelaide to his chest. Maybe his rapid heartbeat would wake her up. She complained that it did that sometimes when she slept in his pocket. He frantically pulled her away to check. Still asleep.

The sound of clanging metal caught his attention. Dr. Grant was in the middle of pulling a couple guns out of storage. He didn’t even look bothered by the circumstances. Ian’s face turned red as an unbridled rage bubbled up in his chest.

Without thinking much about it, he shoved Adelaide at John Hammond, who instinctively reached up to hold her. Ian would need both of his hands for this. He lunged from the table directly at Grant, relying solely on his one remaining good leg. He more so fell into Alan, but grabbed him by the shirt collar and pinned him against the wall with his body weight. The gun clattered to the ground. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Get off of me!”

“You killed her. You son of a bitch, you bastard, you killed her.”

Alan couldn’t procure a response in his struggle to get the tall, heavy man off of him. With the help of Ellie, he was finally able to push him away, back toward the table he came from. If it wasn’t for Malcolm’s wilting leg, Alan wasn’t so sure he would have won that fight.

His clothes rumpled and his patience growing thin, he regarded Malcolm as he leaned against the table, panting. He looked in bad shape.

“I am sorry, Ian, I really am. But those kids are out there and we have to go find them before something happens to them, too.”

Ian wasn’t listening. He shot up - Grant’s irritatingly calm voice was all that was needed to prompt a round two - but Ellie eased him away again. His leg screamed in pain. He slowly slid down the side of the table and slumped to the ground. His conversation with Hammond came rushing back.

“She’s three inches tall, John!”

“And who brought her here?”

Ian had been too eager, blinded by his pride. He wanted to be the one to show Adelaide the world. She told him she didn’t want to come here. She was scared to leave the house, to travel far away, to be around a bunch of unknown giants. She was so scared that a human would take her away. Ian laughed it off at the time, thinking she worried too much, and that if he showered her it wasn’t so bad, maybe she’d open up more. He thought he knew what was best for her. He should’ve listened.

From the beginning, it was painfully clear that it was only a matter of time before someone got hurt. The park was doomed to fail, perhaps even catastrophically, and when dinosaurs were the main attraction…He just couldn’t imagine the ones to get hurt would be him or Adelaide. But the systems that fail don’t reward those who predicted their failure. Failed systems don’t discriminate. They take down everything in and around them.

“Give her here,” Ian muttered numbly. Hammond nodded, gently handing her over. Adelaide’s head lolled from side to side as he did so. She looked the same. Still unmoving. Still unconscious.

In the heat of the moment, Hammond was the closest and only option. If Ian was going to beat the hell out of Grant, he didn’t want Adelaide’s delicate body anywhere near the fray, so he pushed her into Hammond’s hands. Ian trusted Hammond, in most aspects, about as far as he could throw him, but he trusted he would keep the borrower away from harm for a few minutes. He trusted him with the task more than Grant, at least.

Ellie bent down to Ian’s level and rubbed his arm in reassurance. Then she was off with Alan to do something. Save the kids, maybe? Ian wasn’t paying attention.

His eyes bored into Adelaide for an eternity, searching for any sign of life. If he stared long enough, he was bound to catch a twitch of her hand or a flicker in her eyes. She was bound to wake up.

For once, Hammond didn’t say anything. He didn’t have any smart comments or consoling words, and for that, Ian was grateful. If Hammond opened his mouth, he was going to get hit.

A single tear leaked out of Ian’s eye and trickled down his cheek. And then another. And another. He wasn’t crying. He didn’t cry. His face didn’t contort and his breath stayed relaxed, but the tears built up too much and the dam broke.

One landed on Adelaide, drenching her face and shirt. Ian moved her out of the way.

It was his duty to protect her. She was always so confident and full of life, it was hard to imagine she wasn’t as durable as any other human. But she wasn’t. She was tiny and fragile. Ian forgot that, or maybe he ignored it. Either way, his blindness got her killed.

What was he supposed to do now? Take her back to Texas? And then what? Adelaide would be gone forever, with nobody to remember her except the few people who made it off this island.

“Why don’t we get you into the car?” Hammond suggested. Ian’s tear soaked face and dead eyes made Hammond falter for only a second before he continued. “They may need a pickup when they’re done.”

Ian didn’t want to move. But the world kept on moving whether he wanted it to or not and Adelaide deserved to go home. It was time to leave.

Hammond carefully helped Ian to his feet and supported him as they made their way to a Jeep. Not once did Ian look away from Adelaide. Not when they left the bunker, not when they left the building, not when Hammond situated his leg in the Jeep, not when they pulled up to the visitor’s center.

Not until he heard Dr. Grant’s voice. “Mr. Hammond, after careful consideration, I have decided not to endorse your park.”

Ian glared at him, and in their brief moment of eye contact, he saw the guilt plastered all over Grant’s face. He’d live with that guilt for the rest of his life. Good.

The presence of the people around him slowly came to his attention. Ellie and the kids stared at Adelaide.

They were worried. Maybe sad. He knew that. But the way they stared wasn’t like the way he stared. It was an invasive stare that would make Adelaide undoubtedly uncomfortable if she was awake. Instantly, Ian closed his hand around her and held her to his chest so that they couldn’t gawk anymore. They didn’t deserve to look at her anymore.

“Dr. Malcolm, is she-” One of the kids asked.

“Yeah, yeah, um…she’s…” He took a shaky breath.

“What are you going to do?”

“I uh, don’t know. What do you think I should do?” Ian asked. When he looked up, he saw it was the girl talking. Lex.

“Um…”

“No, really, cause I haven’t - I haven’t the foggiest idea.” The intensity built as he spoke. What kind of ridiculous question was that, anyway? What are you going to do? Kill John Hammond and Alan Grant and tear this whole island to the ground. That’s what he was going to do.

“Let’s leave them alone, okay?” Ellie suggested quietly.

Alan helped Ian into the helicopter when they arrived. He climbed in and pulled his hand away from his chest. Maybe this time…

But still she laid there, as dead to the world as before. Her face was slack, her body bruised and bloody. And there was nothing Ian could do to fix it. There was always something Ian could do to fix it. There was nothing Ian could do to fix it. 

Alan spoke. “Ian, believe me, I never-”

“Just - just don’t.”

“I did everything I could-”

“Hey, uh, I said DON’T.” Ian’s voice boomed throughout the interior of the helicopter. The space fell into an uncomfortable and agonizing silence. They lost so many people, but to have one of the dead trapped inside with them as a constant reminder…

Ian blinked away the oncoming tears as he slammed his head back against the headrest, studying the ceiling. He absently stroked Adelaide’s arm. He always liked to feel her in his hand, to know she was right there, safe with him. She was always safe in his hands. If only he had kept her with him when he lured the T-Rex away. But no, she just as easily could’ve gotten herself killed there as well.

Ian handed Adelaide off to Alan the previous night because he knew he would watch after her. Because Alan was a dinosaur expert and an all around smart, level-headed man. He would take better care of her than Ian could. Logically, the choice he made was sound. So why did just looking at Grant bring on such bitterness and hate? Why was he filled with so much regret? Why did it hurt so bad?

The world passed them by. Pelicans flew alongside the helicopter, uncaring and free. Hammond regarded the mosquito trapped in amber that sat atop his cane with detached interest. Alan and the kids fell asleep. Ellie watched them, wishing she could take a picture. Ian didn’t feel anything, save for the cold, lifeless weight in his palm.

A loud gasp for air accompanied by a large spasm in Ian’s hand drew everyone’s attention.

Adelaide was soaking wet and disoriented. Her back protested her startled jump into consciousness, a sharp pain radiating up her spine, through her neck, and into her head so that she could hardly move.

She tried to recall the previous events. There was a field. Dinosaurs. Running. She was thrown into the air and then…nothing.

She was in a hand. It was warm and spongy and she could feel the life pulse beneath her. Whatever they were doing and wherever they were now, Adelaide almost thought it was better she didn’t know. Almost.

Ian’s mouth fell open. If he couldn’t believe Adelaide was dead an hour ago, he sure as hell couldn’t believe she was alive now. But she was. She may have been extremely hurt, extremely scared, whatever, but she was alive, and the gaping hole in his chest left behind by her death flooded with relief so strong it was nearly tangible.

Ian regarded the borrower with the same intensity he did when he first snatched her out of Alan’s hands. His eyes jumped back and forth, searching not for a sign of life this time, but for a sign that she was hurt. His hand stayed motionless, frozen due in part to shock.

“Adelaide,” he breathed.

Adelaide blinked her crusted eyes open. Just lifting her arm to wipe the gunk away sent another flare up her back. She could have sworn that that was Ian’s voice. But she was probably dreaming again, and to get her hopes up would be to have her hopes dashed. Again.

“Ian?” she whispered tentatively, still unable to see through the haze.

Air came at her fast, and before she could brace herself, Adelaide was pressed into dark fabric, held tight by the hand. No matter what dinosaur they were running from, she did not want to be in this position. She thought Alan understood that.

Not only that, but it hurt. Whatever caused her to black out, it did a number on her body, and there was no way it could stand this pressure for much longer. She wiggled around as much as her poor body would allow, pushing and shoving along the way.

Adelaide thought she felt something along the lines of a laugh come from the Bean with the way the chest abruptly contracted and expanded and the way she could hear the expulsion of air through the giant lungs.

Why would he laugh? What was going on?

Gravity forced her into a prone position as the hand pulled her up into the air, and light emerged all around her.

They were not on the island. At least, they weren’t in nature. The world around her was metal. And the person holding her was not Alan. It was Ian. Ian was alive.

“Oh my god!” Adelaide cried.

“Oh my god yourself!” Ian said.

“Oh my god yourself! Ian!” She scrambled to an attempted stand but settled for a seat. She surveyed the palm around her, grabbing his thumb with both hands and pulling it close. She ran her hands along the skin. It was real. He was real.

The thumb suddenly sprouted a mind of its own and pushed inward, nudging Adelaide’s shoulder. She flinched but remained unbothered because it was Ian Malcolm, alive and in the flesh. A large drop of water splashed down next to her.

Adelaide just nearly dodged it, the quick movement hurting her back. But that wasn’t the issue. The issue was the water itself. It was a tear... Ian was crying? Crying wasn’t something Adelaide thought he was even capable of. Something must’ve gone horribly wrong, but she couldn’t think of anything so bad that it would make him cry. Who died?

Instead of asking any helpful questions, the one that came out of Adelaide’s mouth was, “Is that why I’m wet?” It didn’t escape her notice that she was still soaked from the torso up. Not only did Ian Malcolm cry, but he cried on her. Gross.

“Della, we thought you were dead.”

“W-What?” Adelaide had blacked out a number of times in her life, most of them being around Beans. Something about the toll of living in a constant state of fear…Regardless, it wasn’t unheard of for her to go unconscious from time to time. Before she could ask why they thought this time was any different, Alan’s voice came from across the helicopter.

Right. There were other people here too.

“You fell when we were running from the Gallimimus,” he said, and for once it was the giant who had trouble maintaining eye contact. “I couldn’t catch you in time. I am so, so sorry.”

“No, you don’t - you don’t get to talk to her,” Ian said.

Adelaide jumped in. “Woah, calm down. I should’ve held on better. That’s my fault.” She shifted her focus. “Thank you, Alan, for watching over me.”

“Don’t thank him,” Ian scowled.

“I can thank him if I want to thank him!” Adelaide shouted, but doing so caused another flare in her back. Ian’s thumb returned, gently resting on her chest. The weight forced her to lie down, which she assumed was his intention. If she had the strength to fight it, she would have, but laying down did feel nice.

Alan watched the pained movements. “You hit the ground hard. I’d take it easy if I were-” His advice was cut short by a glare from Ian.

Adelaide rolled her eyes. “It’s okay. We’re okay. We’re going home.” She slowly scooched over until she was resting up against his chest, relishing in the soft fabric of his shirt and the heat that human Beans seemed to have an endless supply of. “You know I’m never letting you out of my sight again?” It was only partially a joke.

Ian chuckled. “Oh, you think I’m going to let you out of my sight? Cute.”

Adelaide’s body vibrated in time with his voice. “I am not cute,” she insisted.

At the same time, she curled her body up even further against his chest, pulling her legs close and feeling the slight rise and fall as he breathed like the gentle rocking of a ship. As the minutes passed, she paid attention to his heart rate while it progressively slowed down. He really was worried about her.

Ian watched her settle in. Adelaide was correct - she wasn’t cute. She was absolutely adorable. And absolutely alive. And they were absolutely going home.

[survivalist-anon]

Log 21: The Devil in the Cave

50 years ago, 1974 in Guadalajara Mexico, a young and troubled Gustavo Mateo, has narrowly escaped the authorities but the rest of his gang.

A drug trade that had failed due to an undercover agent amongst them. On a high-speed chase down the highway and off to the desert near the mountain range, it was a miracle considering how far they've driven... If only it'd be a miracle if they had lost the FBI.

As the bullets continued ringing out, Gustavo had to think fast.

"I'm heading to the foot mountains! There's a cave system there where we can hide until the gringos are off of us!", Gustavo (age 19) shouted to his two last members. He drove as fast as possible into a tight side pocket of the mountain, where he had just luckily disappeared from the line of sight of the car.

He and his cohorts had slowly driven inside of the wide gaping mouth of the cave turning off the lights immediately as soon as they were deep enough in. "oh mierda! The tire tracks!", one of his colleagues had coughed.

They're only chance of escape now may have been dashed due to the short-sighted thinking and the underestimation of his plan.

"Come out with your hands up! Gustavo Mateo! Jose Salvador! And Pablo Montenegro! You're all under the arrest under jurisdiction of the FBI and the FDA!", for United States FBI agents had come out of an old Plymouth Fury sedan. The clicking of their firearms echoed in the cave opening.

They could see that Gustavo's car had entered the cave, they weren't sure however how many others were in there or what was inside the cave. But they're only worry was arresting them on the charges of drug trafficking.

"Mateo, tu burro! I told you to relax and stand still! If you hadn't shut that gringo! Then what I just taken the information and left!", his superior and gang boss, Pablo Montenegro, stopped him hard in the back of the head.

Gustavo has been in Montenegro's gang since he was a teenager, and he was always treated like as if he was still under initiation. "lo lamento, Pablo, but we would have been arrested anyway! You want to go to federal prison peacefully?! Hell no!", suddenly a burning urge to lay a fist on Pablo's face suddenly emanated from the very belly of a soul.

This wasn't the normal influx of rage he had felt throughout his life, but something far more darker. He fought the urge and one against it.

Suddenly, there was a deafening silence.

Like as if the Earth hushed itself for what was next to come.

A low, guttural roar slowly but surely bellowed out through the mouth of the cave as if the Earth itself was asserting itself from its depths.

I was loud enough to Shadow the glass of both cars, and send fear down everyone's spine.

"What the fuck was that?!", one of the federal agents had urinated himself in fear. The other three had put away their firearms and decided to bring out heavier weaponry, one of them got into the trunk getting grenades and other non-government issued weapons that they had illegally brought in with them. "Jesus Christ Jack! How the hell did you get those here?!", the same agent question in horror.

"Just in case if we some more of these hombres had an army.", Agent Jack responded.

But as soon as he picked up one more weapon, there was a sudden soft rumble.

One of the agents had felt this rumble, and then another, and then another.

He looked to the inside of the car and saw that his coffee was trembling. With each rumble following suit. "What the....".

Gustavo, his boss and Jose or deep already inside the cave with the unfortunate pleasure of greeting what was coming from the depths of the cave.

At first it was too dark for any of them to see what was coming from the back of the cave, but with each rumble of its footsteps, came a low guttural growl, echoing.

In the dark, they could see glowing red eyes and the silhouette of something monstrous. With a little light that's the late afternoon had left behind, the silhouette was highlighted with sharp jagged edges, shined with brass embellishments, and a towering figure not too dissimilar to the devil himself.

They would have been far more fortunate if it was the devil.

The monstrous figure lumbered over, curious to the strange object that had invaded his home, none of the men inside the car dared shine a light on it, and fear that it would be enraged.

Shaking and sweating, all three of them men could only speculate that this was a demon that had emanated from the Earth itself. Had this creature come to punish them for their sins?

The figure just stared deeply at all three of the men, then was interrupted when a gunshot had rang and hit one of its large crests.

It did not seem hurt, but it had felt disrespected. His wrestle gaze had turned to the origin to the shot.

"GOD DAMN IT MADISON! I TOLD YOU NOT TO SHOOT YET!", one of the federal officers had screamed at the other from the opening of the cave.

The figure to then decided to confront the Intruders out in the entrance of his cave. From the mouth of the cave the officers could see the same glowing pair of crimson eyes, nearly towering over them.

By this point the light of the afternoon had shun more than just small details, but the whole gruesome picture.

A horrific metal man, with blood crimson armor, adorned with sharp spikes with brass edges, jagged metal rods sticking out from his arms and back, and furious bloodshot eyes. He stood there silently, staring hatefully at the officers.

There was that upsetting calm silence again.

From inside the cave, Gustavo and the rest could hear blood curling screams, the bending and crushing of metal, continuous gunshots and each scream ceasing after a few seconds from each other. Everything went quiet after what felt like an eternity, what was only a few seconds.

The three men couldn't do anything, they stayed silently inside they're old car. Shaking in fear as if they were children once again.

The lumbering figure went back inside, frustrated, but satisfied that he had gotten rid of unwanted guests. Seemingly almost forgetting Gustavo and the other two. He glanced over at their car once more. But this time, although horrific and eerie stare, it felt more apathetic. As if his bloodlust was satisfied for that very moment. Lumbered over back to the depths of the cave, leaving the three men alone.

After what was roughly 3 hours, Gustavo turned on the car, breaking the silence of the three men who had just seemingly saw the devil kill for FBI agents. He slowly reversed back out through the cave entrance, as they slowly exited, they could see what the mysterious red metal man had left behind.

There was barely anything left of them, just mangled messes of men. One officer's head was bashed into his rib cage to the point it had split open, the other had been torn in half and crushed, the other had the car door slammed on to him, and the last had been twisted in a terrible way.

The car itself in comparison to the rest of them was relatively untouched, with the exception of the windows all destroyed, the trunk still open with agent Jack's weapons still inside and the car door being torn off.

Gustavo could feel the tears roll down from his eyes witnessing the scene. All three men had driven back to the city into the local bar. Where they stayed for hours trying forget what had they witnessed.

Pablo had drunk the most, saying nothing about the event, Jose could not stop sobbing to the bar tender's request, Gustavo....could not stop thinking about the entity.

Was it the devil who had saved them? If it was, why spare them? The questions in Gustavo's mins where buzzing like flies on roadkill. Ringing in his ears.

As the three men sat at their stools, a frantic and worried mother suddenly comes through the door.

"GUSTAVO! GUSTAVO MI HIJO WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!", she slapped in the face and buried him in a strong, shaking hug, worried sick if her only son was to be thrown into a foreign prison. "YOUR FATHER AND I HAVE BEEN WORRIED SICK!", she was sobbing, just happy to see her boy was somewhat safe.

Jose(26), mildly still crying, "Señora Mateo can I have a hug?".

She stopped for a few seconds and invited him to her hug. "Oh come here Jose.", the scene was heartfelt as much as it was heartbreaking. "Where have you boys been, everyone at home thought you were dead!", she hugged them as if she would never let go.

Pablo, who had been ignored this whole time, ".....we saw the devil, Señora....he's fucking real....", taking another swig of his liquor.

Señora Mateo stared daggers at Pablo, if you weren't for him, her beloved Gustavo would never have to have resorted to such a life to support them. "He should have taken you!".

Pablo was staring at his shot glass, "hehe, who knew that the devil...also hated gringos?", he turned to her with an evil stare. "I say....we ask him for a favor...."

Gustavo lifted his head from the safety of his mother's embrace, "We're not going back there. He left us alone because we didn't shoot at him."

Señora Mateo was horrified, "oh please mi hijo no!".

Slamming his fist on the bar, "Get the others! We will have the feds off our backs for good...and Guadalajara....will be free of corruption."

"Jose talk some sense into him!", Gustavo pleaded. "Did you see what that thing did to those men!".

Jose was just as reluctant as Gustavo to agree to this, "m-maybe, we...can get the pastor to help?", with that statement Jose had sealed both of their fates.

"And get Martinez too! I bet the devil would like some carne.....", Pablo stares at Gustavo. "You better watch your tongue....pequeña mierda irrespetuosa", he left his payment and left Gustavo, his mother and Jose.

"Mama, please forgive me, I-", his mother lifted her hand to him.

"Mi hijto, you...and I are going to the church right now.", sniffling through her tears, "if I can't help you, God will ....you too Jose.".

Later that afternoon, just before the church was about to close, the local pastor was told the whole story by Pablo, and had prepared the gang of 30 or so members to visit what they assumed was the devil.

Nearing midnight, the gangs come to the mountain cave, all of which were equally horrified to see that the entity had still left the bodies, now currently being feasted on by vultures.

Pablo, armed with 30 men, several guns, a live pig, and several liters of holy water. To confront....or convert the entity.

"¡Demonio! I have come to make an offering! As gratitude for sparing our lives!!!", Pablo had set up everything to look like some occult offering. Something about him changed, from that strange second he laid eyes on the entity, he had simply lost his mind.

Gustavo and Jose were far more lucid, scared that this monster was simply going to strike them next.

There was a sickly silence once more, then came the rumbling of footsteps. There was no loud and thunderous roar like earlier this afternoon, just a low guttural growl.

The light from the headlights of each car were shining on the opening of the mountain cave, The entity and stayed just and the corner, trying to escape the line of sights of the gang.

Gustavo could tell that the entity did not like light, "Hey! Shut some of the lights off!", he calmly shouting at some of those nearest to their driver's seats.

"YOU shut up!", Pablo shouted at him. The growling was a decibel louder, and Pablo had begun to shake.

The live pig had panicked, squealing it's head off. It had somehow escaped its restraints and headed straight into the cave and a panic.

Wheeling could be heard all the way deep down into the cave, it did not stop until it was far away inside. Passing by the entity entirely.

Pablo was dumbfounded that they're only offering had just ran inside the cave. "TU PENDEJO!".

The feral growling was getting more aggressive The entity have now grown enough confidence to show himself even further. Coated in now dried blood.

"shut off the lights! It doesn't like the lights and it only makes him angry!", Gustavo warned the men.

The gang had begun to weigh in on what should have been done, some of the members have turned off most of the headlights, leaving only one on.

Pablo by this point was frustrated.

The entity had slowly begun to walk towards Pablo, thundering to the gang leader, was no defiantly standing in front of his cave entrance.

The creature stook a good 3 feet above Pablo, who already was a relatively tall man. Glaring at him, not even needing to size him up.

He was doing it for show.

Pablo looked up at him, maddened by his sheer size alone. He fell backwards and stumbled back on to his feet, running behind one of his cars.

Gustavo was just as equally terrified, but with the little light one of the headlights had given. He could tell that something was significantly different about this thing.

It was tall, horrifying and looked like it had birth to itself from the bottles of hell itself.

But his stare was full of pain, filled with apathetic sadness. In a very strange sense, he looked almost tired.

The entity turned his head to Gustavo, staring him right into his soul. He lifted his heavy feet, and stomped towards Gustavo. The other members had stumbled away from Gustavo, practically abandoning him with the entity.

He was more than dwarfed by the entity, it loomed over him....it's bloodshot eyes piercing right through him.

Gustavo couldn't move, the longer he stared back, the more a grading and grinding voice had leaked into his soul.

"bloooood.....for.....the.....blood god....", The voice loomed inside Gustavo's brain. He could see a dark giant, he could hear the screams and roars millions of corrupted souls from that second.

Gustavo was shaking uncontrollably as if he was going through a convulsion, he had recited his prayers over and over again, until all he could hear was his own prayers. Has the voice continued fighting and further and further, he had fought back with full strength of a soul.

With one final push against the intrusive evil, he let out his own battle cry, "rrraaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHhhhhh". He had almost tore his throat open with such a cry.

Gustavo, had somehow......

Beaten Khorne.

The crimson entity was taken a back by such resistance. He even stepped back a little, impressed with this young human's spiritual strength. He gave a crooked, sharp toothed grin.

"You.... banished him...", the entity growled. "I....can no longer....hear him.", you looked up at the stars, his bloodshot eyes cleaned a little.

The other members of the gang were both mystified and scared, what did Gustavo do?

Pablo with a shaking gun, motioned to Gustavo come back, "LETS GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!", by this point emotion to the rest of his gang too quickly get out of there without invoking the wrath of this thing anymore.

Gustavo snapped out of it, he looked up at the entity and his horrific grin.

He nodded to him, turning around and running to one of the cars.

As the cars sped up, leaving behind the haunting figure, Gustavo looked back at him, he was looking back, watching the cars speed into the night.

The next day, early in the morning, Gustavo had woken up violently from memories that weren't his. Vivid visions of battlefields, bloodshed and friendly sparring amongst what can only be assumed as brothers. Covered in sweat and still in his clothes from last night. He could see that his mother had been sitting beside him, holding the cross in her hand, like we praying for him.

It was than he remembered how...and why...he was spared that night. He quietly and quickly gathered snacks, water and drinks.... Just before him had opened the door, you glanced over to a drawer in the living room, opening it up and he saw one of the Bibles his family had kept over the past few years. It was a strange urge to bring it, there would be no real practical reason for it, but instinctually gonna he feel that there could be some use for it.

You drove up again to the cave, this time seeing the horrific entity, sitting on a rock they opening the cave practically sunbathing, oddly enough with the same pig from last night and which he had kept alive this whole time. He was just sitting there contemplating, with the pig on his lap like a lap dog.

"...what the?", he decided to park a decent distance away from the cave, respecting the entities boundaries. He's slowly gone out and saw that the entity had greeted him with the simple turn of his head, he said nothing and just waited for him to come near.

"I can smell, the gun oil on you. I do not desire to hurt you....or at least....I do not want to change my mind.", he rumbled. Even with this threatening voice, the pig had not struggled or felt uncomfortable.

Gustavo had stopped, shocked that he knew he was armed. So, he had no choice but to bring the snacks and drink to him. "A... proper offering...amigo.", he had hesitantly called him.

It was clear the entity had no idea what that Ward meant to him yet, but he could feel that it was a good word...."a-migo?", he grumbled.

"y-yes, it means... friend.", Gustavo explained.

Gustavo can also say that the pig was relatively comfortable in spite of the hard armor, looked at him was mild apathy and went back to sleeping in the nice warm lap of the terrify man.

"w-what is your name...?", Gustavo asked.

The entity stood there, pensively thinking about his answer, "Sarek....", he muttered.

"......ugh..... would you like a different name? One that better suits you?", he muttered back.

The entity was taking it back a little, surprised that anyone would offer something is so strange as a second name for him. "....a different name?....", he responded.

"yes.....this morning, I couldn't help but feel that one of us has changed. Maybe one more so than the other, but I know that something deep down the side is telling me to give you a different name. One that will clean your soul. If you have one.", Gustavo had never been religious, not even when he would go to church with his family. Yet, meeting this, Sarek, had given him a new perspective.

"Would you like the name..... Alejandro?", it may have sounded random, but this was the name his grandfather would have given him if he were still alive.

The entity thought long and hard about this, never in his entire life was he given something as peculiar as a different name before, "....yes....Alehandrio.", he mispronounced a little.

The awkward silence was broken a little by Gustavo with a small friendly chuckle, "I'm going to have to teach you Spanish aren't I?", the strange and surrealistic feeling that he had just made friends with some demon, who has openly accepted his invitation for friendship without asking for anything so much as blood sacrifice.

What a strange situation, he thought.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

50 years later, on the same date, 2024. Las Vegas, in a secret underground fighting ring.

The strange friendship continues, between a man and his 'devil'.

As Señor Mateo box down the welded metal halls of the facility, he enters a room where it closely more resembled a living space fit for a celebrity, with a few humble things about it. They're sitting on the couch with a few other members of his bodyguards, playing a video game with them as if they were siblings.

Alejandro 'El Nino' Mateo sat amongst his 'siblings' and 'cousins', no longer adorned with the Blood stained armor he had once wore for the glory of a blood god, but now a glittering, blue, red and white luchador outfit fit for his gargantuan size. His mask covering predominantly the front of his face, custom fit to avoid the butcher's nails on his skull in which through some strange occurrence, I'm barely affected him ever since he entered our world.

Now only strange and immovable objects, permanently stuck to his head as a cruel reminder of his past, seemingly no longer hurt him.

His scars have healed, his rage controllable, his soul now his alone and his no longer plagued by rage and bloodthirst.

"I see you are enjoying yourself, how are you my old friend.", Gustavo smiled, giving Alejandro a hardy pat on his shoulder.

The reformed World Eater turned around, smiling his sharp toothy grin. "Hola viejo amigo, I heard tonight, I'm going to have some fun. Aren't I?", he chuckled.

One of the bodyguards, his 'cousin' Armando, nudged his rib, "Ha! Yeah man! Last night this guy was trying to bust out of his restraints!".

"Ah yes....the toro. That one you will not have too much problems mijo.....there is...one...I was surprised.....you had never told me....some of these Astartes.... could use magic?", Gustavo asked with concern.

Alejandro turned around looking at him, he pause the game real quick, "magic? What had one of them do to you Gustavo?", his calm demeanor had gone on guard.

But the reassuring pat to his shoulder, Gustavo gave him a soft smile, "no no, they had not done anything to me. However, my mind was read like a book by one of them.....it had started me for a short time.", he could see his world eater gearing himself up to fight.

"....put him in the ring last...... I want to obliterate him in your honor. No one disrespects my amigo and lives.", she let out a heavy blast of hot air from his nose.

Gustavo was pleased, 50 years he was successful as a member of the cartel, he was successful at protecting his hometown of Guadalajara, all thanks to Alejandro.

For tonight, it was their 50th anniversary. Celebrating all these years of friendship.....and power.

End of Log 21

@kit-williams @barn-anon @egrets-not-regrets @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @walking-natural-disaster @starfrost740 @squishyowl @sleepyfan-blog @lawnchair86

[inkyvendingmachine]

Dawn Season 3, Episodes 16

💀 Call of Cthulhu: Haunted Hijinx Masterpost 💀 🎶 Call of Cthulhu Season Three Masterpost 🎶

Warning: This campaign is an edited version of Call of Cthulhu: Song and Dance scenario from the Tales of the Crescent City book. While a lot has been changed, there IS spoilers for it throughout these posts.

ANOTHER BIG THANKYOU TO @inkdemonapologist FOR HELPING ME WRAP UP THE LAST SUMMARY OF SEASON 3!!! THAT'S RIGHT! WE'VE MADE IT AT LAST!!! which means we can now start posting the 18384927 post game RP logs we've been doing meanwhile lmao.

ART CHANGES THIS SEASON!! @inkdemonapologist and I are collabing on all the art for these summery posts!! Shazz does lines, and I compose and colour the pieces.

Almost done, just one last muse to free.

But first, the Angel left a bit of a mess. While Jack is using all his willpower to NOT give into the urge to “fix” everyone by shoving ink into them, Joey pleads with Prophet to do the final ritual with Susie, so that there won’t be any weirdness between Susie and Allison. Prophet’s flattered, but he… would need more time to study this one. Why not let her do it? Joey concedes, but he wants to be the one to lead it. Jack helps Leon patch Allison up so she can be ready for round 3, while Joey and Prophet go to reset all the candles that got knocked over in the fight.

Susie wants to talk to Allison, while they wait. What were her intentions at the Studio? Allison assures her she didn’t even want the part (which offends Susie more, honestly) – she just wanted to keep her eye on this Studio, after everything they’ve been up to!! ... What… have they been up to, exactly, Susie asks?

… and Allison admits, well, maybe they were just… protecting their home. It sounded ridiculous at the time, but… maybe that’s really all it was. Someone told her recently to be careful of making monsters out of others, and maybe that’s what she did here. (Thanks for putting in a good word for us, Tom!!!)

Joey, of course, has been busy getting everything in order and has heard none of this, but Susie and Allison seem to be on okay terms, so let’s hurry up and do this ritual – without the creative power from the muses of storytelling or dance keeping him going, Joey is running on pure determination and adrenaline. Tasty.

And together, they’re able to do it. The golden glow drifts out of Susie, but this time, they all hear a faint “thank you” before the spirit disappears.

Susie collapses.

Allison tries to catch her, but it wrenches her bad arm and she falls to the floor as well.

Joey passes out, too, with his one goal done – and now Jack’s feeling the sudden drop in energy as the muse of music returns to normal; he loses consciousness as well.

But

Prophet’s too thrilled to give in!!! announcing “We’ve done it, my Lord!” before swapping back to regular Sammy – whhoooo ALSO immediately passes out without the extra creative energy keeping him going, leaving Henry and Norman and Timothee with a bunch of unconscious people. Henry and Norman are maybe not the ideal folks to handle the inevitable police visit after all those gunshots, but Timothee is also a child of Lady Orchid and can pull some of his influence before taking Nichole home.

Henry and Norman just get people into beds. Bendy, uh, helps??? Which means Joey’s body is wandering around, but Joey himself is practically unwakeable right now and Jack is bleary enough that driving home seems unwise. Better to just spend the night for now and sort it in the morning.

7 AM greets them with Henry waking Joey up with a panicked, “What are we doing here, what’s going on?! …I don’t think I remember last night.”

The colour drains from Joey’s face, and he tries to calm Henry, find out what the last thing he remembers is – Henry knows he remembers the contest. When asked if he remembers that scythe spell, Henry groans and admits that he does, but he’s still shaking and does not seem all right, so Joey runs off to dig through Jack’s bag and find something to draw with – oh, hey, at some point Henry’s sketchbook ended up in here, and there’s the rest of Joey’s ink, and also one of Joey’s nice pens? Anyway, that’s enough for him to bring Henry something to draw on, hoping that will calm him down. HE’S NOT GOOD AT COMFORTING and his brain is running at full capacity trying to figure out what to do…

Henry immediately starts drawing one of the monsters from last night. He remembers some things… he remembers attacking Sammy, though Sammy has no recollection of what Prophet did and can’t verify this, and Joey is sure that the two of them were working together by the end of the night and seemed fine – but, uh, Henry wasn’t quite himself and Joey had been afraid he’d lost him, LET’S NOT… USE THAT SPELL AGAIN,,,,,

in the meantime, Joey finally admits to himself his few and far between weaknesses, that maybe he still isn’t, at the end of the day, the one who can comfort Henry, and asks his best friend if… he’d like Joey to call Linda for him. Henry’s taken aback, and agrees, so Joey swipes Jack’s hat to cover his horns and heads outside to use a payphone.

Sammy goes to check on Jack, then on Susie, who looks a little worse for wear – she thanks him for coming after her, and admits that she remembers it all, but it feels like a dream. She… wants to talk about all this later, if they could, but for now, even as worn out as she is, she’s eager to get back and finally record a good take of that new Alice Angel song. She can’t believe they didn’t stop by the studio all week, when that was the whole reason she agreed! But Nichole had so many other things she wanted to do with them, that they just never got the chance…

Joey gets back, asks Henry how he’s doing. Henry says he’s doing okay (but he’s definitely not doing okay). So Joey gently pulls him towards the door, where… Linda is waiting for him. Joey actually called her over. Henry is overwhelmed, hugs his wife, and gives Joey a grateful look – he knows how much this means for Joey to do. Joey just tells him not to worry about the cartoon and to get some rest.

And then it’s time to clean up and get going!

Joey uses Bendy’s help to just make a giant cartoon squeegee, as you do, to smoosh all the candles and ink and paint and chalk together, so hopefully it won’t be useful to any future cultists, and throw this weird ball of gunk in the garbage. Allison tries to… sort of apologise? – or at least explain why she had thought mind-controlling Sammy was justified – but the boys are not interested and Joey simply tells her they’ll talk later.

THE PREMIER IS TOMORROW WE HAVE A CARTOON TO FINISH.

Well, first back to Jack’s house to get a shower since we’re all sort of gross from getting dunked in the lake but

THEN, WE HAVE A CARTOON TO FINISH.

The music department is sluggish, everyone there feeling the after-effects of the muses’ presence, but Sammy is as demanding as ever, refusing to let a musical cataclysm stop his department from creating excellent work. Lyrics are done, but Jack’s nonetheless here to… balance Sammy out a little. Henry shows up halfway through the day anyway, and Joey decides that if Linda let him come then he probably needs something to work on. Joey is feeling PRETTY DEAD today and mostly works out of his office, though he does clear off a spare desk in there for Henry to work beside him, away from the stress clamor of the rest of the studio, and also perhaps just to enjoy each other’s quiet companionship.

It’s been a long time since they both just sat and worked on animating together.

There’s a few messages for the boys throughout the day – one from Peter checking in with Joey on how he should describe their group to the reporter they rescued (Joey settles on “someone else who got tangled up with that cult and wanted to set things right”), another from Peter to Jack letting him know that his cat Beans had been fed the night before and DO NOT BELIEVE HER when she inevitably tries to convince him that she’s never been fed in her life, and finally, a simple letter to Joey that just says, “We should talk sometime,” with the address of a local cafe, a date and a time, and the signature of “Y.”

Joey………… decides the other boys maybe possibly do not need to know about this last letter right now.

Susie shows up – with that chocolate cake she promised last week, at last!! – to do a take on the new version. Joey stops by the department to cheer on his Alice Angel, which she appreciates; after everything, her first take chokes, but her second is beautiful. She loves the song and she loves the new changes to it. Sammy’s pleased with her performance, though he mutters that it might be the best thing he’ll ever write. But he’s soon cheered up by the prospect of a cake untouched by roaming janitors, even sharing a piece with Jack and Susie. Joey, who had figured out some magical control over ink at some point, will handle updating the lipsyncing so nobody has to redraw entire cells.

AND SOMEHOW, THE CARTOON IS FINISHED????

ON TIME????

A… feature length cartoon, in 1934??????

D…DID JDS JUST BEAT DISNEY TO A FEATURE???????

( joey b like: >:3c )

Well, Joey DOES have the break room magic that helps everyone in the studio gel with each other a little more to work faster, and stay awake just a little easier, and in this timeline JDS does still have Henry. It’s not in colour, and probably not as complex as Disney’s first feature will be, (joey voice hUSH) but still, the first feature length animated movie will be a Bendy cartoon put out by Joey Drew Studios! GOSH!!

That evening Joey reaches out to Nichole Savoy, the daughter of Lady Orchid, to let her know about the premier tomorrow – he did promise her and her friends a stage, after all, and he’s not one to go back on his word, if they’d like to perform for the premier? Or if not, he’ll just give them all tickets, but if they so choose, he trusts they’ll put on a magnificent show. Nichole is taken aback and tells him that he’s very strange, but gratefully accepts.

And now, the most important task before the premiere: Joey decides it’s time to drag all his boys out for fancy new outfits (It’s for the premier!!! It’s part of the premier budget!!! Don’t worry about it!!) personally tailored and picked out by yours truly. Perhaps it is also… a little treat for himself, getting to see all his boys dressed up nice… y’know, for finishing the cartoon. That is going to premiere. Only that reason, nothing more.

And the premier itself goes great. Susie sings the new song live with Colette as a dancer (and Sammy on the piano), Nichole doesn’t perform but seems really happy to see her friends get this spotlight and night out with her. The cartoon itself is pretty darn close to what they hoped it would be. Afterwards Jack keeps everyone charmed and out of range to socialise with Sammy while Sammy glares and looks unapproachable; Henry is a little tired for socialising but DOES want someone to ask about the animation on the scenes he’s proudest of, while his kids try to pick which scenes are his; and the head of the local paper catches Joey Drew to ask about an interview about this unprecedented accomplishment, and Joey’s all too happy to set up a time for a tour.

The head of the paper is also curious if Joey’s met Peter Sunstram? They seemed to know each other, and the man had been looking for a job at his paper, and he wonders how well Mr. Sunstram takes direction? There’s a glint in Joey’s eye as he realises his chance to talk Peter Sunstram up as only Joey Drew can. Jack surely won’t leave if his OTHER boyfriend is ALSO in New York!

And that one investor who started all of this is here, too; oblivious to the magical shenanigans he inadvertently kicked off, but thrilled with the finished film he’s just seen! Somewhere, Grant can breathe a sigh of relief, and hopefully soon, so can the boys.

Joey Drew Studios has managed the impossible, one more time.

💀 Call of Cthulhu: Haunted Hijinx Masterpost 💀

[Previous Episode]

[jiubilant]

4.E. 188

“So Ulfric Stormcloak’s coming to the city,” says the boy through a mouthful of chicken. “What’s so important about that?”

He’s shoveling down supper in a smoky public-house by the docks, where the Company men and their apprentices—of which he, as of that morning and its many contracts, is now the newest—gather at day’s end to dine. His hand hurts from signing his name. His legs hurt from walking. He suspects that he might have dreamed it all, the ships, the echoing warehouse, the food; when the barmaid’s girl had brought it to him, not to the well-dressed men chatting in the corner, he’d thought that the chicken—boiled in butter, melting golden from the bone—was a mistake.

Then he’d thought it was a prank. He half-expects his master of about half a day, a factor’s clerk with a long, frown-lined face, to whisk his plate away.

“The Emperor grants dustucks to Company factors and fiduciaries,” the man says after a thoughtful pause, wiping the grease from his hands with a kerchief. He’d paid for supper. He’s sitting across from the boy, facing the fire; his eyes glint in the hearthlight like two shards of red glass. “Can you tell me what a dustuck is?”

No, the boy thinks. He doesn’t even know what a fidu-cherry is. He sneaks a glance up at the clerk, then dares a joke. “Does it quack?”

The clerk blinks at him. Then he smiles—looking, the boy thinks, a little surprised about it.

“No,” he says. “A dustuck is a permit that exempts Company goods from any duties, stoppages, or inspections mandated in provincial ports. It means that our goods,” he says, raising his eyebrows at the look on the boy’s face, “go wherever we’d like them to go—and local customs-men can’t do a damned thing to hold them up, and not even the High King himself has the right to tax them.” He eyes the growing pile of bones on the boy’s plate with amusement. “Now, what do you suppose that means for us?”

Easy, thinks the boy, relieved. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Profit.”

“There’s a lad.” The clerk tips the rest of his chicken onto the boy’s plate. “Now, traders like, ah, like Shatter-Shield—that lovely little clipper in the harbor, the Bergfrue, she was his—they’re subject to the duties fixed by the jarls of each hold. And those duties are climbing by the day. Since Istlod can’t tax the Company at all, he’s got to tax his own people more.”

The boy, attacking a chicken leg, makes a muffled noise of agreement. Then the words sink in. He frowns up at the clerk. “That’s not fair.”

“That’s business.” The clerk’s smile is thin and vague. “But the Bear of Markarth agrees with you. He’s come to Haafingar to growl.” With a smile that transforms his solemn face, he catches the barmaid’s eye. “Well, to be more accurate, Istlod’s called him here to bawl him out for refusing to respect Company dustucks in his ports. He’s been costing us money.”

“Can he do that?”

“Ulfric?” The clerk holds up his tankard, dangling it by the handle. “Not according to the Emperor’s law. But men like Ulfric Stormcloak—”

“No politicking in my public-house,” says the barmaid, whisking up the tankard as she bustles by—and, to the boy’s amazement, tapping the clerk on the head with it for good measure. “Don’t go anywhere, Spider. I’ve some sveler for the boy.”

The clerk casts a plaintive look after her. “With bilberry jam, Birgit?”

“For the boy.”

The clerk raises his hands in airy surrender. The boy wonders, watching him, if the lines in the man’s face aren’t from frowning at all.

“Men like Ulfric Stormcloak?” he prompts, struck with a sudden urge to impress his teacher.

“Men like Ulfric Stormcloak,” the clerk says briskly, “like to know how far they can go.” With an even brisker smile, he stands. “Let’s see about those sveler.”

* * *

The boy brings the sveler, filled with jam and honey-sticky, home to his sisters. When he fishes it smugly from his coat, it looks more like a log of pocket-lint than a sweet; still, when he pieces it with painstaking care into seven portions, even picky Letta stuffs her morsel in her mouth without making any faces.

“Next time,” she says, eyes bright in her pale, pinched face, “bring back a cheese tart.”

The boy, with all the self-importance of a breadwinner, scoffs at her. “I can’t just tell Master Rano to buy me a cheese tart.”

Mina, chewing with her mouth open, grips his arm. The boy realizes with a start that he can see her cheekbones. “Candied pears!”

“Pleskener!”

“Kanelstenger!”

“I want to be an apprentice—”

It’s little Luce who tugs on his sleeve, her eyes wide with concern. “Mama, too.”

The boy’s portion stops halfway to his mouth. With a flash of remorse, he disentangles himself from his frail, hollow-eyed sisters. He’s been stupid, he thinks. Stupid and selfish. He should have pocketed some of the chicken.

“She can have mine,” he says, and lays his bite of svele on the table. If they’re asleep when she comes home, he thinks, it will surprise her. She’ll see that she won’t have to poss until her back aches, scrub until her hands crack and bleed from the water in the steaming washhouse-tubs. He’s the man of the house now—thirteen years old, full of knowledge of permits, and profits, and politics. He’ll provide.

Luce tugs his sleeve again. “Rafe?”

The boy blinks. Then he picks her up like their mother would: swirls her off the ground, tosses her so that she giggles. “Luce?”

His youngest sister, light as a ghost in his arms, pats his cheek with a sticky hand.

“Sweetrolls,” she says.

“Sweetrolls,” the boy solemnly agrees. Then he grins, heedless of the impossibility. “And a cheese tart, candied pears, some pleskener...”

[cyberbeast99]

Wolf in the City Part 2

I make it halfway across the street before I get hit by an eighteen-wheeler.

Pain shoots through my body as I’m knocked back onto the sidewalk. I lay there, completely dazed as the car slows to a stop

“Hey kid, what the hell do you think you’re do-“ begins the driver. Then his eyes widen as he realized what he just hit. He speeds away, leaving me lying there.

Am I hurt? Am I dying? It’s hard to tell. I feel no pain. You’d think being hit by a truck would at least sting a bit, but I don’t feel anything.

Unless….

I sit up, expecting a flash of pain. Nothing. I stand up. I brush the gravel out of my fur and examine myself for injuries. My clothes are in tatters from both the transformation and the crash, but I can’t find any bruises or blood.

Holy crow, I’m invincible!

Okay… now I just need to get home. 

Oh shit….

I had originally planned to call an Uber, but that was when I was in human form. That’s off the table. But I still need a ride home. I text my friends in the hope that someone’s in the city and can give me a ride.

CyberBeast: Guys, is anyone in Hyper City RN? I shifted at the grocery store and had a panic attack. Long story short, I’m stranded.

CandyRocks: Sorry man, out of town

HyacinthDoll: Same here :(

CyberBeast: Oh jeez… what should I do then?

CandyRocks: If I were you I’d call Erian. He should be able to explain why you’re randomly shifting all the sudden

CyberBeast: No way I’m trusting that fraud again. Remember what he did to Tanja?

CandyRocks: Touché

HyacinthDoll: If I may, why not ask your girlfriend for help? Isn’t she in the city?

My pulse quickens. Ask Roxanne? She doesn’t even know I’m a werewolf. I’ve been avoiding my girlfriend recently specifically because of that. She’s asked me to move in with her and I keep trying to skirt around the question. I know I have to tell her eventually but I’m just not ready.

CyberBeast: Uhhhh

CandyRocks: Yeah, what about Roxanne?

CyberBeast: Guys-

HyacinthDoll: Wait… does your girlfriend know about the treatment?

CyberBeast: About that…

CandyRocks: 🤦‍♀️

HyacinthDoll: Oh man…

CandyRocks: Just gimme a sec. I’ll call her. Stay right where you are.

CyberBeast: Candy, please don’t

CandyRocks: Stay where you are

I try to type up something quick but Candy logs off. Dammit. I can feel my heart racing, my breathing speeding up. The urge to start running again resurfaces. Just as I feel like I can’t take it anymore, I hear a female voice with a British accent.

“Babe?”

It’s my girlfriend. 

Roxanne works as a mechanic and it’s pretty obvious that she just came from work. Her dark hair is slick with sweat and the stench of oil and grease is almost unbearable to my canine senses. She’s wearing a navy blue uniform emblazoned with the words WHITEPAW AUTOMOTIVE and the logo: a smiling cartoon border collie with a wrench in its mouth. 

“Rox, I can explain-“ I begin but that’s when she runs up to me and wraps her arms around my furry neck.

Huh?

“Oh my gosh you’re so cute!” she gushes. “So furry!” She boops me on my snout.

“Y-you don’t care that I’m a werewolf?” I ask.

“Babe, I’m just glad that you’re finally comfortable in your skin.” she says. Then she punches me in the arm. “But you should have told me, you wanker.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry… I just didn’t want to scare you”

“It’s okay, Eric. I’m not mad. Is that why you’ve been writing me off though?” she asks?

“Yeah. Again I’m really sor-“

“Stop apologizing babe. It’s okay. I understand why you did it.” She smiles. “Just please don’t do it again, okay?”

“I promise I won’t.”

“Okay,” she says. “I got the rest of the day off: Mae’s covering my shift. Now Candy said something about groceries?” 

“Yeah, I kinda left them in the store when I… umm… shifted.”

“That’s okay! We’ll go pick them up together!” says Roxanne. The two of us head towards the grocery store. A tomboy mechanic and a wolf creature. Both of us have wide smiles on our faces.

[genderdotcom]

see the day

(888 words) the dark urge and karlach chat about birthdays. pre-relationship, early act 1

“You know what, I never even asked what date it is.” Karlach leans back against the damp log, sizzling slightly. “I mean, I know it’s been ten years- time doesn’t flow that differently down there- and I can see that it’s summer. But- other than that?”

Japhet looks up at the sky in silence for a long moment. Crickets chirp and frogs burble on the river’s shores. 

“I don’t know either. Part and parcel of the amnesia, I suppose. Why do you want to know?” It’s the amnesia that makes them curious, they think- but it also obscures the truth of their thought; I don’t think I’ve asked as many questions in my life as I have in the last two tendays. I must not have cared. Or there was nothing new happening.

“I dunno. Wanted to know if I’d missed another birthday, I guess. It’s in summer.” She laughs as she says it, but her smile is more of a wince than anything. 

Another lapse of conversation, this one lasting long, silent minutes. There’s nothing more for them to do tonight- dinner has been cleaned up, the tents have been set, and the sun’s slow descent gives them plenty of time to recuperate. But something niggles at their mind.

Birthdays… 

Their brow furrows.

“I don’t know how old I am.”

Karlach pries open one eye from where she’s sprawled, giving them a slow blink.

“Ah- I’m sorry. I just realised that in my amnesia, the memory of my age has completely disappeared.”

“Sorry, what? Think I dozed off there.”

“Huh.” She levers herself back up to a sitting position, leaning towards their face with a squint. “Okay, let me have a look.” 

Her golden eyes rove across their face, bending this way and that to take it in from all angles. This close, they can feel the puffs of heated air from her shoulder vents, the slow exhalation of her breath. They see how her eyes flick to their lips; they lick them almost unconsciously- her vents flare. A burst of heat flowing over their skin, strong enough that they blink back tears.

“Absolutely no idea. Sorry, mate, but you could be twenty or sixty and I wouldn’t know the difference.” She snorts. “I mean, I’m twenty-seven- or thereabouts- but I don’t really have an intuition for elves and such. Half-elves. D’you remember your birthday, at least?”

“Shit! Sorry.” She scoots back from them, an embarrassed grin blooming across her face. “Guess I’ve finished my professional examination.”

“And? What verdict have you arrived to?” With the new distance placed between them, the evening chill creeps in. A sense of loss. 

Birthdays. That’s the thought that had brought them to this- but even the concept feels foreign. What would they do with a birthday? What does anyone do with a birthday? Birth just brings forth thoughts of the gnolls they'd fought only yesterday, spawning from distended hyenas in a beautiful- gory- explosion. Perhaps it’s more like that. A more fitting beginning for the creature they are than any sort of celebration.

“I… am not sure I have ever had one.”

“Oh.” She looks terribly sorry for them, all of a sudden. “That might just be the amnesia, but- that’s really sad, Japhet. No… cakes or anything? Gifts? Well, I never got much of those either, but- celebrations? A candle to blow out?”

Gifts just put them in mind of- something. Luxurious black wool grown heavy with blood, keeping its warmth close, an endless embrace- and a headache that robs them of any more detail.

They shake their head.

“We should ask Gale about the date. Perhaps there’s time for us to celebrate your birthday, still.” The thought ill fits their mind, but they continue on. “You can show me what it’s like.”

Karlach smiles- small, at first, then breaking into a grin as a thought seems to occur to her. 

“Wait- I’ll do you one better. Stay here for a sec.”

She stands up in one explosive motion, leaping over the log she’d been lying on and bounding over to Gale. 

They watch on in slight confusion as the two exchange a few words. Karlach gestures grandly, flames flaring yet again- and Gale matches her enthusiasm. Finally, she returns.

“Well, I’ve missed my birthday by ‘bout a month- but we can still celebrate yours. It’s the fifteenth of Flamerule right now- let’s just say your birthday’s on the twenty-second. Sound good?”

They blink slowly.

“Why?”

“Why not?” She counters. “I mean, you can pick another date, but this way we get to celebrate it. Unless we go squiddy before then, at least.” She’s getting antsy the longer they look up at her. Shifting from foot to foot. Even if they’ve never had a birthday- they’ll try it for her.

They’d only met her a scant few days ago. She only saw them this way, as a friend, as someone she should get close to, because she’d arrived too late to see Alfira’s ruined corpse. They’d packed up camp, and by the time they’d returned to the Chionthar’s shores rain had washed the blood-drawn circle clean away. She didn’t know the depths of horror they’d sunk to without even a conscious thought.

“Thank you, Karlach. I appreciate it.”

She grins and flares so bright it reflects off the water for a moment.

“Aces.”

[shylilbunny15]

Prompt #2 pt 2

Writing Prompts

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    ・┆✦ʚStormed By Odssɞ✦ ┆・

Bang

Villain jolted awake, sitting up to glance where the sound had came from. An exhausted sigh escaped Villain's lips as to no surprise, the sound had been another log hitting the door. Villian took a mental note of the storm's progress. Probably not stopping yet. No matter, still had a plan to come up with.

Feeling much better, Villian ran a hand over his forehead, noticing his fever was practically gone. 'I don't remember taking anything..'. Biting his lip in discomfort, Villain beared mind to his messy clothes. Noticing Hero asleep against the couch beside him. Her state, no better. Both were sweaty, covered in nature's own debris, as well as completely soaked from the rain.

Villain, placed a hand on Hero's forehead, noticing the red blush on her face. She was fiery. 'Did she not treat herself'?  Villain knelt beside Hero, lightly shaking her. "Hero...Hero, wake up"!

Hero's eyes fluttered open, looking up at Villain through half lidded eyes. "Mm...good...you're awake". Hero gave a weak smile.

Villian looked away, feeling blood rush to his cheeks. "D-Did you not treat yourself, Idiot"?..

"Mm...I suppose I f..forgot." Hero's words started to slur.

Villain took in her current state. "Come on..get up, we need to get cleaned. That's the reason we're suffering from fever".

Villain pulled Hero up, holding her up, leaning the smaller being against himself.

"Haa... let's go..you can shower then rest."

"C-Couldn't....I couldn't..m' sorry." Hero wailed. Villain looked at Hero, surprise exhibit on his face.

"W-what are you spouting about"?!

"Can't lose you, too. S' my fault, but not losing this time." Hero let out a shaky breath as Villain led her to his bedroom and into the bathroom, sitting her on the counter.

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"Just clean up and I'll be ba-" Villain turned to leave, only to have Hero grab the cuff of his sleeve. Villian looked back, before turning himself to face her. Surprised was an understatement. Yet, Villian couldn't exactly tell himself what he was feeling. Perhaps concern?

Hero's head hung low, face as red as beets. Her cheeks were stained with tears, glistening as more flowed from her eyes and off her lashes. Hero seemed to be fighting back the urge to say something, but what put her in such a mood? Did calling her an idiot hurt her feelings? That was only meant to put the mood at easy.

"D-Don't go" Hero's voice cracked. "Please" Hero looked up at Villain, before slumping off of the counter, right into Villain's arms. Hero buried her head into Villain's lower chest, gripping his shirt. "M' sorry okie?...M' sorry"

Villain felt himself tense up at the sudden outburst. He'd never seen Hero in such a state. Not that she was always sunshine and rainbows. No, Villain knew Hero was human. He'd seen her get upset from time to time. This however, was a side he'd never seen. Hero was often playful, and bratty. It's how they were with one another. It made the days easier to pass. Villain and Hero, both nemesis. They knew they were enemy, however, their relationship was less than that. Rivals...frenemies? Of course, they knew that they disliked one another, but nothing to the point of having a vendetta against one another. Just a simple dislike that had sprouted from their first fight, and over the years.

"What's gotten into you Her-"

"I know m' messed up....but I couldn't lose you, too... couldn't just sit...let you die...need you here.. n-not alone." Hero slurred, shaking, and trembling against Villian.

"Hero... it's fine... I forgive you, okie?.." Villain cupped Hero's face, making her look up at him. "I forgive you..I'm not sure what this is, but don't beat yourself up about it"

Hero gave a slight nod, before crumbling into Villain, leaving him to hold her up again.

"I wish I could help you, but I don't think it would be very appropriate" Villian sighed.

"Hero.. you'll have to muster up some strength, and at least clean yourself in the shower a bit, I think it's best you take a bath."

Hero only gave an exhausted "mm".

Villain, reached for a large white towel, before throwing it over Hero, watching as it draped down to her legs. "Sigh...forgive me..."

Hero looked up at Villain like a ghost in a sheet.

"Strip" Villain ordered.

Hero obeyed, relieving her body of the dirty clothing, until all that was left was the towel engulfing her from her head to legs.

"Alright, just hold on to me" Villain murmured. 

Hero leaned her head again his shoulder, grabbing Villain's wrist, as he guided her into the shower, turning it on before closing the glass door behind himself, back turned from the view. Villain ran a hand through his wet hair..."Definitely a lot of history she's hiding..".

Moments later, Hero turned the water off, before knocking on the glass door, Villain leaned against. Villain moved to the side, allowing hero to emerge from the shower, with the towel once again engulfing her from her head to her legs. Hero leaned against Villain, wobbling in the process.

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"Gosh...you're not getting any better.." Villain led Hero over to a fairly large undermount tub. Turning his back once more, as Hero slipped herself into the steaming hot water, completely engulfed to her shoulders.

"Alright...I'll leave you here for a while...when you're ready, just knock again. I'll go find something for you to wear" Villain  left the bathroom, hearing Hero respond with an "okie".

The fever was definitely taking one hell of a toll on her. Villian knew there was no way Hero would be acting so calmly. Hopefully she would not remember this. Resting against the wardrobe, Villian ran a hand through his jet black hair, attempting to release bad nerves through a sigh. "Idiot... should have taken the medicine first instead of worrying about me..". 

Facing the wardrobe, Villain started his search for Hero's clothing. Realizing that it would prove to be a bit of a task, given that it was Hero who was staying here. "Shit, just my luck". Villain pulled garb after garb out of the wardrobe. The clothing was either too exposing or too big which Villain was sure would fall right off of Hero's frame.

Finally settling for a dress, Villain quickly grabbed a fresh towel and spare undergarments, before knocking on the door, and entering the bathroom. "Your clothes are here on the counter".

"I nee..mm" Hero whined, slurring as she looked out of the window.

"I'm not helping you". Villain snapped. "You'll have to manage on your own".

Quickly leaving the bathroom, Villain sat himself on the foot of the king sized bed. "What kind of Hero gets themselves caught in a Shadow Storm..pathetic". Villain found himself growing flustered, as he continued to think of the given conflict. Covering his mouth, Villian distracted himself with thoughts on their next move for the mission at hand. The mission was starting to prove more problematic than he'd assumed it would be.

Hearing a bit of shuffling, before the sound of a door opening, Villain looked up to see Hero leaning against the door, face flushed with fever. Hero's breathing had definitely grown to wheezing. Her movements were rather uncoordinated, as she tried to stand straight.  She looked completely vulnerable.  Villain wondered if he flicked her would she simply crumble.

However, Villain's attention was quickly drawing from Hero's state, to her attire.

It definitely was a good pick.

The dress was almost a perfect fit, if not a little short. It snugged Hero's form quite well. Falling loose in all the perfect places, stopping at Hero's mid-thigh. Truly a sight for Villain. How unlucky his rival be so tempting. Hero's wet hair, framing her face. Water droplets traveling from her roots, down lush locks, dropping onto Hero's chest, and attire.

Villain fell back onto the bed, arm resting over his eyes, as he tried to divert both his eyes and mind away from the sight before him.  Villain blamed his thoughts on his feverish state. However, Villain knew the truth. Hero, in sooth, was ravishing. How troublesome that they turned out to be enemies. Villain would definitely have trouble keeping himself from thinking about their issue at hand once this was all over.

"Feel weird.." Hero mumbled, through half lidded eyes.

Villain sat up abruptly, supporting Hero, as he guided her to the large bed, laying her down, under the blankets. "One moment". Villian rushed to the bathroom, cleaning up Hero's clothing, before grabbing a fever reducer, and returning to Hero's side. "I'll give you two tabs" Villain opened the pill bottle, before slipping two between Hero's lips, handing her a glass of water. Villain's eyes didn't leave Hero's form until he was sure she swallowed the medicine.

"Alright" Villian averted his gaze, setting the pill bottle on the bedside table. " Rest, I'll check on you in a bit".

Hero gave a small groan of protest, before giving in to sleep. "I want 4 times the payment for this trouble" Villain stood, grabbing his own change of clothes and towel, before going into the bathroom, closing the door. Villain allowed his thoughts to wander as he stripped himself, and went into the shower.

"Seems like there's a lot Hero isn't saying".

Villian recalled Hero's behavior and small breakdown. Maybe Hero was holding in a lot more than she showed. If so, it definitely taxed her mentality. Hero seemed broken, almost regretful in the moment of her outburst. "Hiding from secrets are we?.." Villain vacated himself from the shower, before sinking himself into the undermount bath.

Villain felt a smirk exhibit on his face. "Well Hero, let's see just how long you can hide, before I find every inch of  enigma"~

           ・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

Villain sat himself on the lounge couch positioned near the corner of the bedroom. Notebook in hand, Villian looked over the ideas in which Hero wrote down before falling unconscious. "Going in with just the two of us could work... however there are a few flaws". Villain took a sip of his hot tea, relishing in the warmth it brought to his chest. "No backup, we'll both be at a higher risk of getting caught...maybe we'll meet up with Task Force 114 and Faccina' Squad- if they stick to the mission." Villian listed as he wrote pros and cons.

Villain's eyes scanned over Hero's form, as she stirred in her sleep. 'perhaps with more rest she would be better by tomorrow '. Villain stood, stretching, before placing the notebook on the bedside table. Hero's hand reached out, grabbing Villain's sleeve, leaving to meet Hero's sleepy eyes...pleading.

"Jeez Hero... you're honestly rash when you're sick. Villian slipped himself into the other side of the bed.

"Can't fail the mission..do whatever it takes"

Hero mumbled.

"What if you need something I can't provide? I suppose this is fine, as I would like to keep an eye on your recovery as well as make sure you're not snooping around."

"M' okie...I'll tough it out ".

'I knew it. Hero's definitely got a lot of history'.

"You're lucky I managed to pull some strength together, otherwise you'd probably be spiraling into the highest fever you've ever had. What kind of idiot doesn't take medicine for a Shadow Storm?"

"Sh... Shadow Storm"? Hero turned on her side, facing Villain.

"Yes..please tell me you know that's what's out there.."

Hero only shook her head.

"Hero! What the heck! You do know what it is, no?"

"..."

"Of course. I should have noticed. A Shadow Storm isn't just any regular storm. It's often formed by the negative emotions of a person depending on the severity it can be fatal to anyone in its path. Many people have negative emotions, yes. However, not always to the extent that it forms a Shadow Storm. It tends to take quite a lot, also the reason many people like to be alone when they're" upset" . 

Hero gave a soft nod, blinking lazily.

"It can also be done manually, many steely castors tend to do so when trying to catch someone or fight on a large mass of land. I believe that's how we got split up from our teams. I'm not sure if it was a castor however I have reason to believe so do it the Strom following us. Had it been aimlessly roaming, I'd have assumed someone nearby was in a rather sour mood.  Anyway, like any storm you could get sick by it, however it's much more severe and often disorients the affected person. The fever tends to sneak up on you, and the storm itself tends to follow, and eventually fade away. You may or may not experience the castor's mood, or dramatically changing your mood which is where it gets it's name "Shadow Storm".

"Right"..

"Rest up, Hero". Villian laid on his back, closing his eyes.

Hero gave a quiet "Kay" before swiftly falling into slumber.

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Honestly, the worst fever I ever had, I couldn't move, I was delirious, and I was stressed so bad.

Aside from that...part 3 may be soon. Until then Sweet Dreams ~ 🖤🐇🖤

[swampstew]

𝔸𝕥 𝔽𝕚𝕣𝕤𝕥 𝕊𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 - 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟚

Welcome to Raven's Reading Nook - a small corner of this blog dedicated to cozy story times. Take a seat next to the log fireplace as we begin this in-progress, spicy/smutty reader insert story starring YOU (AFAB Reader) and the Kid Pirates. Powerade and snacks are provided! You can find links to the mini-series on Wattpad and AO3 at the end of the post.

Minors DNI you will be blocked - for mature audiences only.

Y/N was in shock.

She certainly hadn't expected Captain Kid to find her, and definitely not right after she finished masturbating to the thought of him. Her core fluttered from the recent memory of being three-fingers deep inside herself, imagining it to be his cock. Now here he was! Offering to fuck her stupid. Y/N was cautious, weighing her options. A one-night stand wouldn't be a terrible idea...right? Just one and done, then she could go on her merry way.

Sure.

"Sure, come in," Y/N said with more confidence than she currently felt. She could handle this situation. It's just sex, nothing more.

Wide grin still on his face, Kid sauntered inside as if he owned the place and made himself comfortable on the...worn down excuse of a couch in the big room. Eyebrow twitching, "short term rental?"

"Yep, including the furniture. Sorry its..." she pointed to it, "well that."

"You think the bed can hold us? Or maybe the walls?" Kid spoke aloud as he examined the interior, trying to get creative with the situation. "Course," he slowly turned to look in her eyes, "we could always move this party to my place."

Stay in control Y/N!

"The bed will do for now," she hated the way her voice cracked as she spoke.

Kid raised his hands in surrender, "ok, offers still on the table if you change your mind."

Y/N nodded, tucking a wet strand of hair behind her ear. Clearing her voice, "so you said you came here to fuck me stupid. Gonna keep me waiting?"

Kid cocked an eyebrow at her before he let out a laugh. In the blink of an eye, he was towering over her, shit eating grin back on his face as he held her chin in his massive hand while his metal hand grasped her hip, pulling her flush against his body. He enjoyed the heat radiating off her skin from the bath, the way her plush body felt against his hard frame. A pleased growl rumbled in his throat, metal fingers reaching to squeeze her ass gently.

"Famous last words," he chuckled again before smashing his ruby painted lips against hers hungrily.

Y/N's eyes flew wide open from the sudden kiss before she let them close, returning Kid's fire as she kissed him back. Fighting for dominance over one another, teeth clashing, lips bitten, tongues dancing against each other. She let out a mewl as Kid tilted her head upwards, thrusting his tongue deep in her mouth forcing her to take him, to melt under his touch as he took control.

The redhead walked them backwards until the backs of Y/N's knees hit the bed's edge. She made a noise of surprise. With a wicked smile on his face as he kissed her, he harshly shoved her down. Her long shirt fluttered over her thighs as she bounced on the bed, Y/E/C irises blew open from the action, watching his every move carefully.

She began crawling away from him as he climbed the bed, teasingly stalking her like an apex predator playing with his meal. Kid wasn't sure if he was smelling pheromones or what, but he suddenly felt a deep desire within himself. Not just to dominate the woman in front of him, no nothing as simple as that. He felt the urge to...devour her. Snatch her right up. Make her bend and twist to all of his whims.

He pounced.

Kid pulled her arms above her head, gripped tightly together in his metal hand. His knees straddled her waist as he hovered over her, licking his sharp canines as he considered where he wanted to start. Having decided, he swiftly dropped his head down and nipped her jawline down to her throat, licking the artery on the side of her neck before pursing his lips over it and biting down.

"FUCK!" Y/N squealed and squirmed underneath him.

The bite wasn't overly aggressive but it shocked her all the same. The pain quickly morphed into something else as he licked the mark he made, trailing messy, open-mouth kisses all over her neck smearing his lipstick on Y/S/C.

Y/N began to lean into his mouth as he sucked her flesh, eyes turning to meet his burning ones as he watched her reactions like a hawk. Smirking as he left another mark at the junction where shoulder met neck, his flesh fingers squeezed her inner thigh flesh. The action made Y/N instinctively squeeze her legs shut, that only served to make Kid laugh.

"Shy all of a sudden eh?" he cackled, strong fingers deftly digging into her soft flesh until he felt the heat of her core within in his reach. Using a thick knee, he pushed it down between her thighs, forcing them wide open. Kid pulled back from her neck to take a look.

"Mmmmm fuck, look at that. I can literally smell your arousal but to see it like this..." he husked, "shiiiiiittt. You could bring a lesser man to his knees with how much honey you're dripping."

His metal hand tightened his hold on her arms, his flesh hand began a slow, agonizing trail of soft touches up her thigh, intentionally avoiding her slick core, teasing every parcel of flesh except the one they both desired.

"But I'm not like any man you've ever seen or known," he growled lowly.

Kid finally dragged his palm up Y/N's slit, making her body shudder and face flush. He rubbed flat circles on her clit, leering as her hole clenched around nothing while he teased. Watching her face scrunch in pleasure, her teeth biting down on her lower lip to prevent any noises from coming out, eyes screwed shut as he kept palming her center.

Tutting, "no no, none of that shit," and he pulled his palm away.

Instead - with intentionally slow motions - he began to unbuckle his pants, pushing them down mid-thigh. He pulled his boxers down the same, watching Y/N's eyes widen as his cock was freed, slapping against his abdomen.

"You're not gonna hold back on me. I wanna hear every depraved noise that comes out of your slutty mouth," he grinned like a lunatic. Watching her watch him slowly stroke his length with hungry eyes.

"If you wanna hear me, you gotta do shit worth making noises for," she finally responded, lust filled eyes holding his amber one's hostage as he processed her words.

Feisty woman, he chuckled. He loved that kind of brattiness in a fling. Lived for putting a pretty doll in their place.

Y/N may only know of his reputation through what she read in the papers and while she was cautious of him, she'd refused to let him hold all the power over her. Giant cock be damned. Although she really, really wanted it. Splitting her open, convulsing on it. She shuddered at the thought.

"Guess I have no choice but to split you open with my huge cock. Don't act like you're not into me, like you didn't want to ask me to bang you when you laid eyes on me in the shop." He stopped his teasing and ripped her shirt off, exposing her perky tits and he shifted up her body to place his cock between the two peaks of flesh. Before he could fuck them—

"Ask you? I-- gasp were you watching me take a bath?!"

The red patches that bloomed on his face answered the question for her.

"You little pervert!" she squawked, trying to pull an arm from his grasp to smack him.

Kid couldn't help but laugh, as if she should be affronted when she was the one with nasty little fantasies about him.

"I'm not a little pervert," he let out a low hum, salacious smile stretching across his face. "I'm a big one."

He spat on her tits, rutting his cock between the two mounds. Kid released her arms to drag them down to either side of her breasts, pushing them together as he kept fucking between her tits. The added pressure of flesh covering his sensitive member was enough to make him let out a pathetic groan.

Y/N would be lying to herself that the actions weren't hot to watch. To have Kid's weight trapping her in place, to feel how heavy his cock sat above her stammering heart as he used her tits to jerk himself, watching his eyes squeeze shut and his mouth twist as he let the pleasure take over him. She could feel her core overflowing with desire. His flesh hand reaching down to tweak her nipples as he kept bucking down on her made her keen out a moan. He did it again. And again. Reaching over to tweak her other nipple. Y/N let out a louder squeal.

"Hmm yer tits feel nice and all but I do wonder, what's that mouth do?"

Y/N became dizzy for a moment as he moved off her and brought her up quickly, manipulating her body and hands until she was on her knees in front of him. He stood on the worn, wooden floors as he stroked his thick, veiny shaft in front of her.

"Open up, doll," he purred, rubbing his leaking tip on her mouth, coating her lips.

Her tongue darted out to lick her lips, humming at his taste. She flicked it out and lightly teased his engorged head, making him grunt. A giant bead of precum swelled from his slit, Y/N reached out to slide it down his shaft, rubbing her thumb over his pulsing veins; Kid's hips bucked forward and his wet tip hit her cheek, dragging down to her jaw. She finally opened her mouth, a small 'O' shape and without wasting a single second more, Kid shoved his needy cock in her mouth.

Groaning obscenely as her hot, wet cavern closed around him, Kid did not give her a chance to adjust before he started pushing deeper in her mouth. Tip pushing past her uvula caused her to gag around his thickness, making him moan. He pushed deeper and deeper until he could feel her throat closing around his length.

"Ohhh fuuuuuuck your mouth is..." he sighed. "Mmm that's good, so so good," he spoke through his thrusting.

Y/N's nails dug into his thighs to anchor herself as he fucked her mouth. Barely allowing her a few gasps of air, Kid's hand clutched at her crown, fingers tangled in Y/H/C locks as he pushed her face into his pelvis. He pulled out, drool coating him and dripping down his balls and thighs. He dragged his flesh hand on his cock and with a few snaps of his wrist, flicked away the drool.

"So you can feel every inch of me better," he winked, gently massing her throat as he pushed her to lay back on the bed.

His fingers twirled around her clit, pushing her outer lips open and probing her entrance with all his digits. Dragging ragged breaths from Y/N's throat as she shuddered. A coil in her gut tightened, vibrating even as he built her up, her lower half shifting to meet his pace. Her legs quaking the more he played with her, Y/N couldn't hold back the high pitched squealing as her body was wracked with pleasure.

A quick pinch here, a curl of his fingers there and she gushed as the orgasm hit her. Letting out whimpering whines as she rocked her hips against his hand, riding the waves of ecstasy for as long as she could.

Kid took a few moments to marvel at how wet the sheets underneath Y/N were before he retracted his hand. Licking a few fingers before using the rest of her wetness to stroke himself, watching her get control of her breathing.

As the hazy clouds lifted from her eyes, she tilted her head at him, "that wasn't bad, pirate. Wasn't bad at all," she sighed.

"You'll be calling me Kid by the time I'm through with you," lining his throbbing, red tip to her core.

It was so hot, almost blazing hot, and it felt so fucking good on him. Puffed head pushing her entrance open, forced her core to expand to let him in. Sliding against her lubricated, ribbed walls as he thrusted in fully. The sound of her broken moans enough to make his eyes roll back as he felt overwhelmed by her body enveloping his. His fingers gripped her plush thighs leaving indents as he rolled his hips, making sure to fully stuff Y/N with all of him before he could start.

"Oh fuck, oh fuuuck," Y/N moaned, rocking her hips in response. "You-you feel—" she stuttered through her panting, "oh my goOOdd!" she yelped as Kid rocked his hips harshly, feeling her lower belly clench then ripple with pleasure and it made her keen more. He grinned; she was ready to take him.

The Supernova pulled his impressive girth out of the woman beneath him, watching in satisfaction as her hole pulsed and closed repeatedly. Impatiently. Hungrily. His cock throbbed with primal desire to flood her core with his milky seed. He let out a low growl at the thought as he watched the squirming mess below him, looking so debauched and starved for more of him.

Yeah.

With a sharp tug, Kid lifted her thighs and pushed them down, not all the way to her chest just yet. Spreading them wider just an inch, Kid lowered his body over hers and pressed his cock head against her core once more. Her entrance fluttered on instinct, tried to pull him in, teasing him with the promise of her warm tightness. He felt his balls rise.

Kid's hips snapped sharply as he entered Y/N again, ripping a pleasured cry from her throat as his pelvis smacked into hers; his balls followed up with an aftershock slap. Grin on his face, Kid began a fast and rough pace, in and out of her as he pressed down on the sides of her hips, trying to tighten the pressure on everything.

"FUUCK!" he rasped.

"FUUUUUCK!!" her moan was broken with high pitched keens.

Y/N's thighs were pushed down to her chest as Kid pistoned into her, panting wildly over her face, steeling his knees firmly against the mattress as he slammed into her; the mattress springs protesting loudly.

"OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIIIIIIIIITTTT!!!" she screamed, feeling the white heat that had simmered in her explode, cumming on his twitching cock.

Kid's flushed face pressed against her forehead as his thrusting grew erratic and with a few final pumps, came inside her with a growl. Filling her to the brim, he snapped his hips a few more times, and on the third snap—

C R A C K

The bed frame collapsed, Kid and Y/N yelping in surprise as they tumbled. They looked at each other with shocked eyes for a moment before Kid's head jerked backwards as he roared with laughter.

"OH SHIT! Haven't broken a bed in a long ass time," he sneered in pride.

"My...bed," Y/N frowned. "It wasn't particularly great but fucking shit dude I still needed that for a bit."

"Quit whining it was just the frame. The mattress can lay on the floor and you'll be fine," he chuckled. Turning his eyes back to her, "Are you hurt? I didn't crush you, did I?"

Y/N's colored eyes widened at the consideration, "Oh um yeah I'm ok, thanks." Silence for a few moments, "aces job there pirate. Great orgasm, I rate it a 10/10."

"I told you, my name is Kid," his eyes narrowed as he brought her legs down in favor of caging her between his hands as he hunched over her. Cock still buried to the hilt, a line of cum dribbled from Y/N from Kid's movements.

"Great job, Kid. I'd give you a gold star if I had one."

The pirate scoffed at her, deciding to cross his arms on her chest and rest his head over them. Y/N's body pressed into the mattress; Kid heard a stream of air hissing between her lips as she deflated a bit.

"Opportune timing for it to break. You said you were looking to get off this piece of shit island?"

"Yeah, surprised you remembered. No point staying here, I've exhausted my resources and I'm not looking to find another temp job," she managed to get out before sucking in air. "You're heavy."

"So I've heard. Any destination you got in mind?"

Y/N regarded him closely for a moment before, "No not quite. I know the general heading but I don't have a specific destination yet."

Kid cocked an eyebrow at her, "you gonna explain?"

"Hmmm...I'm looking for some people. Who stole things very precious to me. I won't stop hunting them down until I get back what once was mine."

Grunting at her, "I see. What's your heading? We're travelling around but we stop and explore every island we discover."

"The last information I was able to confirm was that I needed to head deep into the New World. Due East."

A grin began to spread on his face, "Is that so? Just so happens that's the direction we're going. And seeing as you're not looking to stay here longer than necessary, how about it doll? Wanna join my crew?"

Y/N's eyebrows knit together, "I...just told you I'm on a mission of my own. I won't really have time for your agenda."

Not letting that stop him, "Ok then we'll give you a ride. You pay us when you get to where you want to be. If it's not the place that has what you're looking for, you can keep sailing with us. All you'd have to do is contribute to ship duties, help keep it running smoothly in exchange for room and food."

Y/N regarded him suspiciously, "This seems a little too good to be true...."

Kid lifted his upper body up, his actions eliciting a moan from her as his semi-hard cock shifted inside her.

"Despite what you may have heard about me, which is all completely true by the way...I'm not that bad of a guy."

"So to be clear, you're offering me a travel pass with the expectation I contribute to ship duties, and all you want from me is gold for passage?"

"Yep. Some more of this too if you can't get enough of me," he winked and she became acutely aware of his hardening length inside her. Her walls fluttered.

"And how do I know you won't turn this into some perversion and keep me hostage on your ship or something?"

"Jesus Christ I have better shit to do than hold someone against their will."

Y/N and Kid's eyes sized each other up several times. Finally, "Fine, I'll take your deal, pira—ah I mean, Kid."

He smiled at her; it even looked genuine. "Wanna seal the deal?" he rutted his hips.

Her head fell back as she groaned out in affirmation.

.

"OI! This here's Y/N. She'll be travelling with us for a while. If anyone has a problem with that, tough shit."

No one responded, wearily regarding the newcomer.

Y/N's eyes swept the deck of the Victoria Punk, gazing at the eccentric faces that made up the Kid Pirates. Masked faces, dramatic makeup and hairstyles, gothic fashion style, and a sick ass dinosaur head at the bow of the ship.

"'Sup?" she nodded her head at them. "Cool ship."

"Thanks," the blonde with a blue and white striped mask said cooly. "I'm Killer, First Mate of the Kid Pirates. Who the hell are you?"

"I'm Y/N. Currently a transient, orphan child of war, looking for certain people and personal things. I have experience in sailing and badassery."

An amused smile pulled on Kid's face, "the badassery was mostly me since the old coward ran away from me technically. Your quick thinking was impressive though. Here," he pulled out the satchel of jewels Y/N had given him at the shop.

"You can have more, what you took from the register was so pitiful I felt bad for you," pouring out a generous mound of jewels, tinkling in her palms.

"Ahh sick, thanks Kid!"

"Dive, take Y/N to the women's quarters and show her around. Everyone else, ready the sails and let's get the fuck outta here."

The crew set into motion immediately, Killer walking swiftly to Kid, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Since when do we sell rides for coin?"

"What? Said she was trynna get out of here and she has a sharp mind. Could prove useful. If not, we part ways when she finds what she's looking for."

"And what IS she looking for?"

Kid shot him a look, "Haah? Who cares? She's hot and she needs a ride. Bang her and relax if you need too but get over it. She's cool, I got a good feeling about her." He grinned, glancing in the direction Y/N went.

"But I won't share her with everyone else so don't go running yer mouth," the Captain growled.

Killer scoffed. He tilted his head to follow Kid's gaze, allowing himself to properly appraise Y'N's figure. He clicked his tongue before walking away in the opposite direction.

"Fuck you Kid."

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[rfaromance]

Hey idk if you do these kinds of requests (I couldn't find a rules page) but if you do im traveling to a funeral for the sudden death of a family member and I could use some comforting Yoosung writing. You can delete this if you can't do it I'll understand. I hope you have a nice day.

(I'll try to fix my rules page later! Thanks for letting me know! TW for grief and loss. I'm sending my love, anon.)

Yoosung was always delighted to receive a message from you. Whenever your name popped up on his phone screen, his eyes would light up and he'd sit up straight; anyone who could see him would say he resembled a puppy that jumped to attention with his tail wagging enthusiastically behind him.

While he would still get excited at the sight of you in a chatroom, he felt an extra swell of joy in his chest when he saw a text message. The thought of you wanting to talk to him, just him, filled him with a bizarre mixture of pride, glee, and anxiety.

So when he saw your name flicker across his screen in a new text message, he almost fell out of his chair. Hastily he typed a farewell message to his guild members on LOLOL, hoping they wouldn't tease him too harshly the next time he logged on. Eagerly he picked up his phone and entered his passcode, but when he tapped your message, the sparkle in his eyes dimmed as they clouded over with concern.

"Can I come over? Please...."

~~~

Yoosung did not hesitate in sending you a quick "OK!" While he knew V and Seven tended to get huffy about the thought of you leaving the apartment, he didn't exactly trust V's reasons and he figured Seven would forgive him if this were an emergency.

Hastily he cleaned off his desk and tried to tidy up his room, wanting to make sure you felt comfortable.

But when he opened his door to see your red eyes and puffy cheeks, he realized that the cleanliness of his apartment was the least of your concerns.

"What happened?" he asked gently, trying to fight the panic beginning to bubble inside him. "Are you hurt? Can I help? Wh--"

You cut him off by raising your hand, urging him to stop talking for a moment while you gathered your strength and figured out the words to say. You seemed to give up after a moment, though, just shuffling inside and burying your face in his chest.

"Gone..." you murmured, your voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt. "So quickly... no warning... forever...."

He couldn't quite make out all of the words you were saying, as they were interspersed with sniffles and your voice was clearly choked by tears, but he didn't need to hear everything to figure out what the situation was.

It was one he was all too familiar with, and one that he would never wish upon his worst enemy.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, and he carefully lifted his arms to wrap them around you and pull you into his warm embrace. "I'm so sorry," he repeated, as you finally let go of your mask and allowed your tears and sobs to soak into his chest.

He let you stand there and cry for a moment, but he could feel you getting shaky in his grip, so he gingerly guided you towards his bedroom where you could sit on his freshly-made bed. You didn't say anything, just sniffled and whimpered from time to time. Once he settled himself down beside you, you were quick to lay your head on his shoulder. Ignoring the flustered blush rising to his cheeks, he turned his attention back to you.

He could empathize with your pain, but he also knew that there wasn't much he could say to make it any easier to bear. Here he was, two years later, still reeling from the same grief. But maybe... maybe he could give you hope, if nothing else.

"It sucks, right?" he said at last. You jumped slightly, and he couldn't be certain whether you were startled by the fact that he'd spoken up or the words themselves. "It's weird, when you don't see it coming. When it comes out of nowhere, and your head starts spinning because, 'I was supposed to see them next week!' And then suddenly... you can't. Ever again." He could feel his own throat starting to tighten, and he swallowed hard in hopes of clearing it up. "And you don't always get answers. So then... what do you do? You can't just move on that easily. Not when you loved someone." He paused again, allowing his gaze to flicker around the room. He noticed his gaming setup on his computer. He noticed his high school diploma. He noticed a letter from Jumin inviting him to intern for C&R. He noticed a picture he'd taken with Zen and Jaehee after Zen's last performance, where he had played a crazy barber. He tried not to notice the photos of Rika on his nightstand, but... he wasn't keen on taking them down, either. He wasn't sure if he ever would.

"The hurt doesn't really go away," he admitted, and he could feel the corners of his eyes beginning to sting. "But... life grows around it, so it starts to feel smaller." He reached up and began to stroke your hair gently. "You make new friends, and they fill your heart. You find new hobbies, and they fill your mind. You can even try to live in a way that will honor them, maybe through charity or studies or buying a new ornament to put on your Christmas tree every year that reminds you of them...." He noticed that you had lifted your head and turned your glistening, tear-soaked eyes onto him. "It doesn't mean you don't care anymore or don't think about them. But..."

His eyes traveled over to his nightstand again, and they rested on a photo of Yoosung and Rika trying to bathe Sally, where they were all drenched and covered in soap bubbles.

"They'd want you to see you be happy. It's hard, and it takes a while, but you can still have happiness." Heat began to sprinkle across his cheeks, and he opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something. Hesitation began to creep up on him, but when he looked at your expectant face, even as swollen as it was with your grief, he knew he couldn't keep these words to himself.

"You're part of my new happiness, Y/N. I want to make you happy, too."