#they'd have them on arms and legs and the hair on the tail for them is just a big fin��

[littlelovelunette]

sevika with a shy!inexpierenced!succubus reader 🥹 i feel like they'd be so cute together!

A Virgin Succubus?

Sevika x Inexperienced!Succubus!Reader

Contains smut, strap, fingering, virginity loss of reader!

Please have mercy, I've never written succubus before...

When Sevika told you she wasn't scared of being charmed by you, and you weren't doing it on purpose and she was aware of that— you didn't want to believe her.

In a place like Zaun, people of your species barely survived, making them the victims of assault. But you knew Sevika would keep you safe, she vowed to afterall. She knew you were inexperienced and never meant harm with your powers.

So much so that you always wore a beret to keep your horns hidden, tail tucked away in the big leather coats you wore even during the warm weather, “You'll be fine,” she reassured and kissed your forehead whenever she saw you getting too vigilant.

“You've never once seduced someone?” Eventually, Sevika's curiosity got the best of her and she asked you when she was at Last Drop once. Surprisingly enough, she wasn't playing poker when the question was dropped, she was simply enjoying her alcohol.

“No, I just… I think it's wrong to let someone's lust control them,” you answered, “I'm pretty inexperienced— I'm sorry—”

“No, don't be,” Sevika placed a large hand on your thigh, “It's okay, I like virgins.”

Your cheeks glowed red and you hid your face behind the curtain of hair, “I'm— I'm… not very experienced in these things, it won't be fun with me, I swear,” you said but Sevika wasn't listening to a word of your denial.

“We'd only know if we slept together, no?” Sevika chuckled, wrapping her flesh arm around you and bringing you closer, you could smell the alcohol and smoke on her.

You smiled, nervously, “M-mhm…” you looked down at your legs, dreading Sevika finding out just how inexperienced you were. You'd not once even masterbate, too scared of putting your fingers in yourself because what if you got hurt in any way? How embarrassing would that be?

Now you were laid on the bed with your legs spread, scared of what Sevika would do to you. She did exaggerate how much it hurt for virgins that's why you were scared. You watched as Sevika took out something from a drawer full of silicone dicks.

It was a big bottle of lube, she smiled, “It'll make it easier,” she said, pouring a generous amount onto her hands before reaching your pussy with a pause to take a look at your face, silently asking for consent.

“Go ahead…” you whispered and then let out a shaky breath feeling her touch your sensitive parts. She didn't do much, just smeared the lube over your clit and hole.

“Ready?” She asked before she slowly sunk in a single, thick finger inside.

You gasped, “It's big…”

“It's one finger.” Sevika chuckled, slowly curling it, your hands instantly wrapped around her like a vice, scratching her back. Sevika bit back a hiss of pain— no, she liked it. “Someone's eager,” Sevika teased before adding a second finger, scissoring inside your pussy to stretch you out a little. Just enough for her strap.

“It feels weird,” you mumbled, your wetness squelching around her fingers as she worked.

“It'll start hurting soon,”

“Sevika!” You whined and then moaned feeling her curl her fingers at your g-spot, it felt good. A weird tingly feeling spread across your lower tummy and then suddenly you felt emptiness— her fingers were out.

Before you could even begin to complain, Sevika poured a generous amount of lube over the strap’s head. Your heart almost fell to your stomach seeing the sheer size of it, “It's huge, it won't fit,” you instantly said.

“Come on, doll, don't be so negative now,” Sevika smirked, guiding the head of the strap to your hole. You wanted to run away, but you also wanted to be courageous and brave.

“I can do this…” you whispered to yourself and gasped when the strap slowly slipped inside.

“Tell me when to start moving,” Sevika said when the toy was deeply seated inside of you.

You sighed, a little shaky and shuddering but that was fine. It hurt, the stretch hurt a lot but you could only imagine the pain if she started moving, “You're doing so well for me,” Sevika said as her flesh fingers stroked the side of your face, mechanical arm holding one leg and caressing the skin of your plush thigh.

“It hurts a lot,” you said, feeling the tears come but you didn't want to cry.

“I know,” Sevika traced the curve of your breast, taking one in her flesh hand and giving it a gentle squeeze, “It'll feel better soon, I promise,” she leaned down and took one of your nipples in her mouth and you moaned.

You could feel her warm, wet tongue swirling over your nipple and teasing the nub. Your back arched off the bed and you giggled, “That's— that's actually good,” you said, tail curling when she did that again.

“Want me to move now, honey?” Sevika asked in a low tone and you nodded hesitantly.

“I can wait if you—” “No, please,” you heaved a deep breath, “I'm ready.”

“Okay, then, if you want me to stop, just say so,” Sevika slowly started moving the strap, her hips pistoning in a steady motion.

Your legs came to wrap up around her waist as you moaned, your eyes closed and your head tilted back giving Sevika access to the midsection of your throat. She leaned and started leaving hickeys. You moaned loudly when she sucked a dark spot on your neck, teeth sinking to leave a bite mark around the hickey. “You're so beautiful.”

The pain of the thrusts melted into a sort of pleasure you'd never felt before and the only thing that escaped your mouth from then was soft “Ah”s as your legs tightened around Sevika's hips. Sevika smirked down at your needy form, slowly increasing her pace.

Even though she was being a little rougher and faster now, the pleasure you felt was otherworldly and something you couldn't exactly word out. Your lower tummy clenched, some sort of knot forming, your skin felt hot, “S-Sev…” you moaned comparatively louder than your other moans, Sevika shushed you gently.

As if she knew what was happening, “Just let it go,” she cooed and your back arched off the bed again. You bit down at the side of her neck as you came undone on her strap, body shivering from the sudden coldness you felt against your skin after your pussy stopped convulsing.

You laid back, down, breathing heavily, “That was… what was that?”

“Your first orgasm.”

[frostgears]

gardening

you did something stupid and now you're here in your itchy twice-a-year dress uniform in this bright busy room in the regimental HQ trying to figure out if you're going to be yelled at, shot, or promoted. the room's full of folding chairs. apparently not enough furniture in here normally to contain all the suits and all the brass.

your "ops coordinator" ("we don't say 'handler', grunt, it gives the civilians weird ideas") got pulled off for a side conversation two minutes after you got here and you haven't seen her since. you're looking anywhere for a familiar face. you're coming up empty. at least the woman next to you looks equally stressed. she must be civvie, some consultant or other; soft face, masses of curly hair. she's wearing a blazer and slacks with big round dataframes.

"hey," you elbow her. "what are you in for?"

"gods above and below." she sighs. "everything. but today mostly Neryx-9."

"the ag research station. you were there?"

"hardly," she says. "just came up on my huge list of problems."

"creepy shit. i was front and center for it…"

she cocks her head to listen. you explain.

Neryx-9 had been a cluster of greenhouses on the surface. supposed to be vacant, powered down — actually they'd said "mothballed", then looked at you like you were stupid when you asked what a moth was and what they did with their balls. but not vacant. far from it. you went in with a miniframe. first thing you found was the bodies of the grid authority techs that had called it in. purple mold already growing over them.

"it was wrong," you tell her. "not like that white stuff you get when an open nutripak sits in the fridge too long. i mean, i don't know if that would have been better. i just, i don't know, i didn't want to get any of that stuff on me. frame or no. maybe there was some already on me, but didn't want to get it on anyone else. so i backed out, sat in the airlock, thought about calling for extraction. thought better. backed to the wall, cycled my flight jets until it was starting to get warm even inside the frame, thought maybe i'd cook it off me. my ha– ops coordinator asked me what the fuck i was doing. snapped me out of it, i told her, i need fire. incendiaries."

they'd found them, somewhere. support rigged another airlock outside of the main airlock after you'd yelled at them to keep that shit inside. a miniframe-scale plasma cutter for outside construction work, and some purpose-built low-velocity liquid pyrophoric agent rockets.

the woman in the blazer made a face. "we just have those sitting around?"

"starship boarding actions. when we don't want to breach the hull but we do want to use all the oxygen. splashes around, gets everywhere, but nowhere near hot enough to melt anything structural. only used 'em in sims, of course, not like we get a lot of star traffic. horrorshow shit. or i thought it was, before this."

the outside airlock door opened and you'd taken up what they'd brought you.

you stepped over the bodies of the grid techs into hell. purple and orange jungle everywhere. insane external humidity and particle count. dome after hallway after dome of the shit, growing over the grow lights, growing up the walls, into the vents. you could feel it through your frame, through your suit. it was hungry. it wanted in.

"ma'am, compared to that feeling, that pressure, the first giant critter trying to eat my frame was a relief."

six thick legs, triangular jaws, scales and plates all over, massive paddle tail. it had reared out of a pond and tried to drag you back in with it. it wasn't as heavy as you, maybe, but it was mad as hell and a fast mover, and fuck, what right had anything like that to exist in an abandoned greenhouse? you knew you didn't want to be in that filthy water. who knew how deep it was? it'd clog your exhaust, choke your radiators. you twisted around as best you could in its grip, armed your wrist weapon, and blasted a thousand flechettes directly into its face.

"and that stopped it?"

"well, wasn't much left to be stopped, but yeah. and that's when i found it that it had friends and they could smell blood in the water."

she wrinkled her nose in a way that was either a dataframe input gesture or genuine surprise.

"why not just depressurize the domes, at this point?"

"thought about it. i had breaching charges. but… like i said, this stuff felt like it shouldn't get out. there's not much out there, yeah, but i just couldn't. and i had the cutter, and the rockets. so i decided to make it too hot on the shore for them to get me so easy."

you'd turned the artificial jungle into curtains of flame. the big creatures dove back into the water, giving you a narrow path to keep going. in the burning canopy, smaller things flared and dropped; you hadn't seen them moving until they died.

your handler had been screaming at you to get clear, get back to the airlock, but the flames made that a losing proposition. so you kept going in. Neryx-9 was roughly linear. there was another lock on the far side.

"past the labs, it turned out. and maybe some of those corpses in there had been growing these things, but it looked like the shit got away from them and was growing on them. there were these ribbons of orange moss, growing everywhere, out of containers, branching into foam and fabric and dead flesh — i tried to pull it off someone, before i realized they were all dead, and their skin came off in sheets, brown-black and full of tiny holes. charred, but not. think it was acid."

"something like a lichen."

"yeah, maybe? i learned about those in school. you can see 'em out the windows in a lot of places. they grow on rock, right?"

"they do," she says. "useful. so what did you do then?"

"i set the cutter to max spread and i torched a path through to the far airlock. and i don't mind saying, when i noticed the cutter battery and gas cylinder were doing okay, i started spreading it around a lot more. i just. i had to burn it."

"happens that was the right move," she said. "good instinct."

"please tell me someone did something about that shit."

"well," she smiled, "there's you. you know, you're refreshingly simple. like a cat that somehow had the sense to eat an invasive lizard. and since you didn't drag the bits all over, i tasked a solarsat to finish the job. can't beat a pass with an X-ray cloudpiercer beam for that kind of cleanup."

she wrinkles her nose again, and the general murmuring of a dozen conversations in the room changes as people look to the main wall display, which now shows a collection of greenhouse domes sagging as if collapsed by an invisible weight. the rock under them begins to glow.

"what's a cat?" you blurt out, before the words "i tasked a solarsat" have a chance to sink in. like, her, personally?

"an animal. a dumb little predator that associates with humans. from Terra, way before the Catastrophe. we're not ready for them just yet, but maybe someday."

a door opens to your side, and you both turn to see your handler, looking about at the end of her rope, and next to her, her boss, the major, who reports directly to the colonel.

"shit, there you are. look. you're gonna have to answer some questions. and it's not guaranteed you're going down for this, not yet, so just be honest, but for fuck's sake be brief, don't try to understand or interpret—"

both of their faces blanch. like, almost completely bloodless. eyes wide.

the curly-haired woman in the blazer smiles widely. "don't worry," she tells them, "she already did. she's been very helpful. in fact, i think i might like to keep her." she puts a hand on your knee.

"i'm not sure i understand, ma'am?"

"pilot," the major says, "is there a reason you've been occupying the time of the Director of Planetary Ecology? the woman who keeps this entire planet breathing oxygen and eating something other than rocks?"

and now your face must be bloodless too. the DPE? even you know that position. but you can't remember ever seeing a photo.

"oh, she was just telling me how she improvised containment protocols to prevent someone's experiment with Araukan imports from getting out of hand. clever girl. or lucky, at least."

you risk a glance to your side. she's still smiling. the woman who can steer any bioscience research on this planet, cut off power and water and air to anything she deems anathema to the coming ecosystem, commandeer keystone orbital infrastructure and burn habitats like you burned trees.

"i don't think we can possibly say no, Director," your handler says, carefully.

"no," the Director agrees. "you can't." □

[pretty-little-mind33]

pirate!Tangerine x princess fem!reader

Summary: You meet the Captain of the ship who had captured you.

Genre: hurt and comfort 🫶

Warnings: AU, being held captive, Tangerine's men are brute with reader, men being men (ew), protective!Tangerine, alcohol, reader is drunk, puking, sexual tension, kinda stockholm syndrome, reader has hair long enough to put in a pony-tail.

There is a storm outside and the loud sound of the waves crashing onto the ship pulls you from a nightmare, causing you to jolt up. You don't get very far considering the ropes binding you to the wall from a rusty hook burn into your skin as you move against them. You wince, almost hitting your head on the lantern over your cot—which had been your makeshift prison for the past night—and you kick and scream against the gag in your mouth.

You assume they want to sell you to whoever was wealthy enough to buy you or keep you for ransom. You aren't entirely sure what their plan is but the pirates haven't exactly been gentle with you. Your skin is covered in scratches and bruises and a large gash falls the side of your cheek, courtesy of being tossed around.

You squirm, screaming again, but it's no use, you know the rope around your mouth muffles the sound. Your dress, a once lavish crimson is a water-washed pink and torn down the side, the remaining lace digging into your skin uncomfortably. They'd taken your jewelry too, the ones with your family crest had been the most amusing to them, and they'd left you feeling exposed and humiliated.

The storm roars outside, almost mocking your anger as you tug harder on the ropes. It hurts but you crave freedom more than relief from the pain. Thunder cracks and the rain slams against the ship. Eventually, you cry yourself to sleep to the sound of the waves.

You wake up again to a calmer sea and the sound of someone cutting the rope from the hook, grabbing the ends and yanking you up by your hands. You gasp, stumbling as they bark orders at you. You blink rapidly, your vision blurry from exhaustion and tears, and you protest against the gag, pulling back against the men.

"The Captain wants to meet you," one of them says, his gold teeth shimmering as the sunlight from the desk hits them. You wince, stumbling on the damp and slimy stairs to the deck as your bare feet hit the splintered wood.

You can see a small crowd gathered around one man in particular; he's tall and dressed in a white blouse, a thick, leather, belt is wrapped around his waist with a gun and a knife fastened to the front, and his hat lays lopsided on his head. His arms are crossed and he looks emotionless as his men throw you to the ground at his feet.

You look up, glaring at them. The Captain just stares at you, looking over you with his sharp blue eyes. His mustache twitches as he frowns and he cocks his head. "Take out the rope," he orders his men, motioning towards your mouth.

Roughly, they do as he says and the first thing you do is spit at the man next to you. You wanted to bite his hand but he pulled away, raising his arm to strike you again but the Captain's loud voice causes pause.

"Enough," he commands and the man's arm hangs in the air.

"But boss,"

"No. No one is to lay their hands on her again, understand me?" He pinches his nose, looking at his men with a stern look. He glances down at you, seeing the welts on your skin from the ropes and roughly his men had treated you. His jaw clenches.

If glares could kill, he'd have a bullet in his head from how how hard you're staring at him.

"Can you walk?" He asks you, his tone still unemotional. You don't answer, still glaring. The Captain sighs, rubbing his temples now. "Fine," he groans and snaps his fingers to one of his men, "Carry her—"

"No," you speak up, your voice hoarse from having not used it in a while. You pull yourself up, standing on wobbly legs. "Don't touch me. I can walk." The Captain nods, hiding a smirk behind his hand, and he clears his throat.

"Follow me." He begins to walk back towards his quarters. You follow behind, keeping your head high even as every step you take causes your feet to ache and you feel about ready to pass out.

The Captain's quarters are neat and much more spacious than where you were kept. There is a bed in the corner, covered in white linen and woolen blankets, a desk covered in maps and papers, a small table, and even a rectangular window to look out onto the waves. Your eyes roam around, landing the fruit bowl on the desk as your stomach grumbles. The Captain hangs his hat on a hook near the wooden door in silence, watching as you hesitate to walk into the room.

"Sit," he offers you the chair, opening the ties of the leather vest over his chemise and lets out an exhale. "I'll check your wounds."

You hesitate, wiping your palm over the wounds on your face, only smearing the blood and dirt further into your skin. You don't move to sit down. The Captain frowns and grabs a tangerine from his fruit bowl, tossing it to you. You catch it, looking at him with wide eyes until he nods and you dig your nails into the orange skin, peeling the fruit apart.

"Sit," he says again, pointing to the chair. "Please."

This time, you do as he says, still tearing the fruit. The seat is plush under you, your torn dress irritating your skin as you scratch at your calf with one hand. You keep your glare on the Captain, your eyes tired and red. However, the sweet taste of the tangerine melts in your mouth and some well needed relief washes over you as you close your eyes.

"What's your name?"

Your eyes snap open and the relief is gone.

"You don’t know? You kidnapped me," you snap, your voice still hoarse.

"I do know, Princess. I was just being polite," he says. His voice is emotionless and you can't read his expression. You can't tell what he's thinking and it's unsettling.

"Polite," you laugh, lightly touching the wound on your cheek. "A little too late for that, Captain" you roll your eyes.

There is tense silence as he stands in front of you, jaw locked. Without having said a word, he turns around and walks to his desk, retrieving the rum flask and a white, clean, cloth. He's still quiet as he walks over again, standing in front of you with the items in hand. You look up, still refusing to show any weakness.

He kneels down, his boots scraping the ship, and gently, he covers more of your exposed knee with your dress before pouring some alcohol onto the cloth. You watch him, a little flustered by him touching your skin, but you don't make a comment. You pop another slice of tangerine in your mouth.

"What's your name?"

The Captain pauses for a moment, his eyes glued to the tangerine in your hand. "You're a smart girl, ya'know I can't tell you my name," he pauses, "but I suppose ya can call me Tangerine."

You crack a small smile, finishing the last slice of fruit. "Captain Tangerine?" It's almost teasing and Tangerine smirks.

"As you wish," he prompts.

You shake your head. "No. It sounds quite silly."

Tangerine laughs, rolling his eyes as he savors the lighthearted conversation. He lifts the cloth and shows it to you. "May I clean your wounds now, Your Highness?" He’s mocking you right back, you can tell, but it doesn't bother you.

You don't answer him but you don't protest when he reaches up and presses the cloth to your wounds. You wince, instinctively pulling away from the alcohol but the Tangerine's hand shoots out, holding behind your head to keep you still. "Stop fussing," he whispers. "I'm trying to help you."

You chew on the inside of your cheek, keeping still as the warmth from his hand seeps into your skin. You look into his eyes, watching as he concentrates on cleaning you up. "They shouldn't have hurt you like this—that isn't how we do things here, they should know better." You listen to him speak but you aren't sure if you can believe him—not after the pain and fear his men had caused.

Even his gentle touch can't erase those memories.

You glance to the side and then hold out your hand. "The rum," you say and then pause when he straightens up and takes the flask, holding it up for you and raising an eyebrow. You nod, taking it from him and opening it. You bring the drink to your lips and drink, the burn of the alcohol feels good on your throat.

Tangerine laughs, "Slow down, Princess," he warns but his warning is unheard as you soon find yourself sitting on his bed, Tangerine is across from you in an armchair near his desk. He's watching you carefully, sensing how flustered you're becoming from how much of the rum you've drank.

He knows he should do more to stop you, but he can't bring himself to end the drunken conversations you've been having. He's come to realize you aren't some prissy Princess to him anymore. Perhaps you never were.

"You know," you whisper, eyes a little hazy from being drunk but mostly from the seriousness of the segment you're going into, "You think you're some outlaw. Sailing around, stealing, killing whenever it pleases you, and then apologizing for the treatment I received from your men, but you're really no better than any other man I have met."

Tangerine frowns. "Hm, how so?"

"You still kidnapped me. You still take and hurt women because you can, just like my fiancé does—just like every man I know. You are no different. No matter how many times you clean my wounds, you're still the reason they're there."

Tangerine's jaw clenches and he hears the truth in your drunken words, shame burning his cheeks. After a rather long pause, he asks, "You are to be married?"

You roll your eyes. "Typical you should think that is the most important thing I have said."

He doesn't answer, simply narrows his eyes and looks down at your hands. "I don't see any ring."

"Your men took it."

Tangerine looks embarrassed. "Aye," he mutters and looks to the side, resting his arm on the armchair as he listens to the waves crashing onto the side of the ship. For some reason the news that you're betrothed makes him feel uneasy. He turns to you again, looking deep in thought.

Someone so young, to be married already? He can't even imagine what else there is in store for you.

"They can keep it," you add with bitterness, clenching your hands over your knees. "I don't want that ring anymore than I want the man that it comes with." You're being completely serious. He doesn't exactly know what he can say so he just watches you; his blue eyes sharp as he tilts his head.

He's never met anyone like you.

You look up at him, watching him watch you. "What?"

Tangerine shakes his head. "Nothing, you intrigue me, Princess," he sighs and a small smirk curls his lips. "Is that why you ran away? Why my men found you near the port in the dead of night? You don't like your rich husband?"

You narrow your eyes and take a swig of the rum again, the liquid dripping down your chin and burning your throat. You cough and sputter, and Tangerine stands and walks to you. He takes the flask from your hand and his calloused palm finds your cheek, rubbing the side of your lips to wipe away the sticky liquid. You groan, staring up at him with a defiant look but you don't move.

"Spoiled little Princesses find the dumbest things to complain about," he says calmly. This causes your expression to shift and you push him away.

"You do not understand," you hiss, "you have never had to be bound to someone. Someone you hate. Someone who is cruel and who thinks he has every right to touch you because your father has given you to him," you say and stand, stumbling. Tangerine immediately stands with you and wraps his arm around your waist, careful you don't fall and hit your head somewhere because you're tipsy.

He listens to you, his expression unreadable. "I am nothing to him. Nothing more than a breeding cow. I do not want to live like that," you say, sounding sadder now.

Tangerine's breath hitches as he hears your words. His hands tightens around your hips. "Hey, slow down with that, aye?" he strokes his hand down your cheek, causing you to glare at him. You push him away, stumbling onto the plush bed as exhaustion takes over you. You run your hand through the smooth furs and woolen blankets, humming.

Tangerine simply stares, sensing that you're drifting to sleep, and he smiles.

He leaves you to sleep for a bit and when he comes in again, you're sitting up on his bed. Your tattered dress looks even more obscene surrounded by his blankets and sheets and Tangerine clears his throat, hiding a blush. "Did y'a have a nice nap, Princess?"

You shake your head no.

Tangerine walks over and presses his palm to your cheek. He hums. "You're burning up."

"I don't feel well," you whisper, covering your mouth. Tangerine knows exactly what's coming and he lifts you up by your armpits, standing you on shaky legs as he guides you out of hsi quarters and up the stairs onto the deck.

You feel dizzy as he guides you towards the edge and you grip his arms, suddenly afraid. "Wait, please do not throw me over," you plead, your words a jumbled mess.

"Quiet, silly girl, you're gonna be sick," Tangerine says as he gathers up your hair, helping you lean over the end of his ship. The wind hits your face and you groan, suddenly feeling like you're gonna puke. Once you do, the Captain's strong hands ground you as he hushes you.

"Ya really need to learn how to hold your liquor," he laughs as you lean against him. You look exhausted and he gently leads you back into his quarters. His gentle touch is almost more nauseating than the pain you're used to. He's being kind. He has been nothing but kind since you've met him.

Tangerine helps you onto the bed, handing you a handkerchief so you can wipe your mouth. You take it without a word, collapsing onto the blankets again. He's speaking to you, but his words sound all jumbled as sleep pulls you in again. 

When you wake, you're alone in his quarters. It's the morning and the sun peaks from behind the horizon and through the curtains of the small window. You must have slept all night.

You definitely needed the night's rest.

Sitting up, you push down the fabric of your skirt and stare around the room. There is a large mahogany bookshelf near the Captain's desk and you stand, ripping more of your already ruined dress to tie your knotted hair away from your eyes.

Quietly, you walk to his desk and your hand skims the maps as you try and understand where you are. You must not be very far from the port yet—not with the storm. 

You stand straighter, seeing something in the corner of your eye. Tangerine's hat still sits on the hook, his navy blue leather coat resting on the chair of his desk. You look up, hearing the creaking of the boots on the wooden planking and then nothing.

Up on the deck, Tangerine is having a smoke with his crew. They're having their morning drink and laughing but his mind drifts to you. He wonders if you're still asleep and a smile curls his lips as your sleeping face, drool pooling at the corner of your mouth, pops into his head.

He'd watched you for a while last night, but then he'd left to sleep under the stars. He didn't want to bother you. You looked so peaceful. 

Tangerine excuses himself and walks down to his quarters. He's quiet. He just wants to check on you. He pushes the door open slowly, ducking into the archway, and when he straightens up his eyes widen when he sees you. You're sitting in his chair, his coat wrapped around you, and his hat rests over your messy pony-tail. You haven't noticed him as you fiddle with his compas, mumbling something under your breath. 

Tangerine clears his throat and you jump up. You stand, turning to him and staring him down. "Comfortable?" He pipes up, smirking. You quickly gather your wits and that fiery spark he'd seen so many times yesterday returns. 

"Well, since I'm stuck here—I might as well," you quip. 

Slowly, Tangerine shuts the door behind him, and looks at you more sternly. "You aren't stuck here," he sighs, and walks closer. When you stand your ground, he stops and tilts his head. "If you wish, I shall turn this ship around and bring you back to your future husband."

You shake your head. "I'd rather you kill me." 

Tangerine smirks and your gaze stays locked onto his. You return a smile, looking away so he doesn't see that he's made you smile. He walks closer, and you let him. Carefully, he removes his hat and drops it onto his chair. You hold your breath as he slips his coat from your shoulders and draps it against the same chair. He turns you, and with your back to him he easily slips his knife into the lace of your dress, letting the material fall. 

You gasp, "T-Tangerine."

"Shhh," he whispers, his fingers skimming your arms as the dress slips from you. He taps your shoulder blade and you step out of the dress. You're in your corset and dirty petticoat. You turn again, holding your arms over you as you watch him.

You should scream. You would never let a man touch you like this, but for some reason you feel safe with him. 

Tangerine picks up your dress and holds it over his arm. "If you wish it, I will tell one of my men to row to shore and leave this on the beach. Will your father and husband look for you once they find this?" 

You look at the dress and shake your head. 

"Good. Then you shall be free. I will take you wherever you want to go," Tangerine explains and his gaze drops to the map on his desk.

Free.

The word echoes in your mind and your heart feels full. The invisible shackles that had tied you to your life are now broken and the suffocating satin you'd been forced into wearing lays lifeless on the arm of a man who'd taken you.

Saved you.

You look up into Tangerine's blue eyes and when he sees you shiver he takes his coat and hands it to you again. 

You wrap it around yourself, feeling the leather beneath your fingers as warmth spreads across your skin. You stare at your hands; no ring. You touch your collarbone. No necklace. No family crest. Nothing.

You smile. 

"I would like to stay with you," you tell Tangerine, seeing him smile despite himself, and your grin widens a little. "But I want to know your real name."

Tangerine laughs and it's a sound you wouldn't mind hearing more of.

[nerd-who-likes-cats]

Akanda Tsum! Or wait... is it Akedya? ... Siam Tsum!

@rakiah has an adorable set of twins. Which twin is this? They won't tell you.

I considered doing both twins, but I realized there could be even more opportunity for chaos if it was just one, but nobody knew which twin it was. (Story under cut)

Akanda and Akedya were sitting outside ramshackle dorm when the portal opened, waking Kat, who they'd been intending to mess with while he slept. They looked up at the bright light as tsum after tsum fell from the sky. Akanda spotted one with red hair set to land nearby, and the two gave chase. They lept after the terrified tsum, only to bonk into each other as the red-haired tsum fled into the undergrowth.

The pair were lashing their tails, ready to pursue it, when they spotted something in another bush, a small pair of ears poking out for just a moment. They darted over, only to find the bush empty, and a small tail peaking down from the branches of a nearby tree. Each time they caught up, it was somewhere different, and they chased this catlike tsum onto the roof and around the chimney until-

Crash! The two boys had chased the tsum over a rotting piece of roof that couldn't hold their weight, and fell into the building. A laughing purr came from above and they looked up to see blue eyes much like their own looking down at them.

As the twins and the tsum locked eyes, a bond and agreement was silently made.

"Let's get out of here before they realize the roof's collapsed" said Akanda.

"I'll carry you since our legs are longer" Akedya told the tsum. And the trio were off.

Once a distance away, the tsum leapt out of Akedya's arms, and dashed off. Right under the feet of some poor guy running across the yard. Noting this man had hair in his face and likely couldn't see well anyways, the twins took the chance to try to show up the tsum and each other, until Akanda saw Rook in the distance watching them, and correctly suggested they run off again before getting dragged back to Pomefiore.

Their phones buzzed at the same time. And they checked to see: "Students, it has come to my attention that the tsums have returned to Night Raven College. All students who encounter one of these small creatures must bring it to the headmages office posthaste."

"This'll be fun" Akanda smirked

"Let's go meet the other tsums" Akedya grinned.

The three were the first to arrive, and Crowley looked between the two of them and the tsum "do you know which of you this tsum takes after?" He asked in a tired voice.

All three smiled at him.

"Its hard to say" said Akanda

"You'll need to know though, won't you" added Akedya.

"Yes I need to know. It's school policy that tsum-alikes are the responsibility of those they take after so I need to know who I'm assigning it to!" Crowley frowned at them.

"Can you tell us apart in the first place though?" One of the boys asked innocently.

"Of course I can!" Crowley lied.

"Then you should have no trouble telling who this tsum takes after" with how the twins moved about, even someone who could identify the pair would have trouble keeping track of who was who.

"This isn't a game." The headmaster said sternly "I am your headmage, so you are going to answer my question."

"Well..." Akanda began.

"Its hard to tell for us too..." Akedya said with a smile.

"But there's an easy way if only somebody could catch him" Akanda lied.

"Yes" Akedya continued "Akedya has a mole on his back left shoulder that I don't, if you caught the tsum we could check."

"But we haven't been able to catch it ourselves. It'll follow us, but won't let us touch it." Akanda shrugged.

Crowley looked at the tsum, which was knocking things off his desk. And the twins sat back to watch what would unfold next. This would be fun.

[minhosimthings]

18+ content MDNI

(@jaeyunluvr this is for you)

Kitty Hybrid!Sunghoon and puppy Hybrid!Jake being so obedient and needy for you, that the second you show up in the room, they're wearing their leashes and sitting obediently on the bed with their wagging tails, skilled tongues and throbbing dicks. The leashes you specially chose for them of course.

And they're already melting by the time you take your clothes off, admiring each and every line that forms your body, the body they willingly submit to each night. You can hear both of them whimper quietly when you tug at the leashes ever so gently, their erections getting bigger by the moment.

Running your hands roughly through Jake's fluffy hair, you slowly massage Sunghoon's dick, making both the boys moan and almost pass out at the pleasuring sensation.

Your praises of 'such good boys for mommy' whilst you milked their cocks absolutely dry, with Sunghoon at your front and Jake at your rear, made both of them even more needy, even though they were on the verge of collapsing from how many times you've made them cum their guts out.

Nevertheless they persevered, putting all their energy into sloppy thrusts, which grew sloppier and needier by the moment, you'd have to tug at their leashes to remind them who was incharge there.

And they'd be basically dead by the time you've sucked them both off, turn by turn, Sunghoon moaning loudly enough for the neighbours to hear, while one of your hands still remained on Jake's leash, tugging it every now and then, forcing him to watch as Sunghoon's dick disappeared into your mouth, as if it was made for it. Sunghoon on the other hand was shaking at the overstimulation, his cock refusing to take anymore, but you persisted, forcing his legs open with your strong arms, and tugging repeatedly at his leash, until he's passed out on the bed.

Jake was no better, with him rushing to lay down for you. He'd cum as soon as your beautiful pussy sank down on his dick, pressing its walls and suffocating his tiny cock.

"tch tch, can't take mommy's pussy well Jakey? Im disappointed" He'd be horrified at hearing those words, forcing his legs to stop shaking and his eyes to snap open and look at you, your bouncing tits and you milked him completely dry, while Sunghoon watched from the corner, massaging his own cock, although he was completely exhausted. He couldn't stop though, with his throat being choked by the tight leash in your hand.

You'd give them the best aftercare of course, with the only condition that they change the drenched sheets this time.

[thegnomelord]

CH 1: With a Spark It Starts Just Like It Ended

CW: NSFW Blood, gore, cannon typical violence, M reader but can be read as GN, Mage reader, Monster 141 AU, reader is described as having thick fucked up arms.

AO3 3.7k words, more of an intro to what's to come lol.

Old man Abdul had lived a good life. A harsh one. But a good one.

He was amongst the first to grab a gun and raise the fight against the Russians, risking life and limb for the freedom of Urzikstan even as members of his pack bled and died to artillery fire and noxious gas. And he alone had survived to see his country set free of tyranny and chose to stay in the military long after his hair had greyed.

And how was he rewarded for his service?

With a 'promotion' to guard the basement of a conference hall. They even called it the 'Peace House' as if that made his position grander, though in his humble opinion the only peaceful thing happening within the halls above was the lack of physical violence.

"Hey, did you fall asleep on me old man?" Taim, a bright eyed and gap-toothed human private so young he could've been one of his grandsons, asks as he throws down five playing cards on the floor between them. Royal flush, again.

Old man Abdul's eyes are soft with a glare and he throws down his own cards, already knowing he'd lost. "Go fish." He huffs, leaning back into the chair they'd been able to squirrel away.

It was embarrassing to think that boredom could torture him more than the Russians did, but they were only a few hours into their shift and he was already thinking of biting a bullet. Chances were they'd stay down here long after the diplomats up top finished bickering about who knows what...

"Hey," Taim perks up, and from the few weeks he's known him, Abdul knows the glint in his brown eyes heralds something stupid. "How about whoever loses this round takes a shot from your leg?"

He is proven correct.

"How about I throw you into a minefield so we can match?" Old man Abdul responds, his tail wagging from side to side. His tail looks more at home on a rat than any werewolf, the fur there an accidental casualty of a Russian fire mage's spell that had taken his leg off. The prosthetic leg only fitting on his human body isn't nearly as insulting as the warding totem they'd given him to protect against lethal magic after his leg had gone flying.

Taim gulps and holds his hands up. "There's no need for that sir." He quickly adds, clearing his throat and reaching to the floor to pick up their cards and shuffle them.

Taim's warding totem slips out from beneath his jacket, but it's different from old man Abdul's. Not in appearance, with the same materials every mage will make theirs differently, but in feel. It feels different...wrong.

Eyes narrowing he reaches out and holds the piece of faintly glowing rock between his claws. Heat radiates into his fingers, the magic inside pulsing in a steady even thrum like a machine instead of beating like a heartbeat; like something not quite alive.

Abdul had been in combat long enough to know how good a warding totem is with how his body reacts to it.

The shit one he'd been given barely gets the remaining fur on his tail to bristle.

Taim's makes his skin want to melt off.

"Where did you get this?" Abdul asks, tail curling up as he lets go of the totem with disgust clear on his face. "That rock could probably protect you from L3 mage without cracking, maybe even L4." Call him paranoid, but a private getting a totem to protect him from mages rarer than unicorns doesn't make any sense.

"Oh, that-" The young man clears his throat, the totem laying flat against his chest like an insult to life. "Came from up top a few days ago, guess all those terror attacks spooked command and they want to keep us normal people safe." He realizes his words and quickly adds. "-not that I'm calling you not normal or anything sir, it's just that-"

"-You're squishier than me, yes, I know." Old man Abdul rolls his eyes, leaning back into his chair with a huff.

Taim gives a nervous little giggle, scratching at his curly dark hair. "No offence sir. It's just...you know."

"We all look out for our kinfolk first." Old man Abdul sighs, going to wave him off.

His pointy ear twitches and immediately he's jumping to his feet when his sensitive hearing picks up the sound of the elevator mechanism running. No one is supposed to come down at this time, and Abdul already has his rifle raised to point at the elevator doors by the time Taim is able to get to his own feet. The old werewolf doesn't even need to say anything for the young man to stand on opposite side of him, they work together well, both guns aimed at the person revealed by the opening elevator doors.

It's just the janitor.

Taim lets out a small breath and lowers his gun, relaxing as the janitor gives them a small greeting both of them have to strain their ears to hear as a face mask muffles their words.

"That was a bit embarrassing." Taim chuckles weakly, nodding his own greeting and taking a step back so the janitor can push the heavy cart past them. Abdul notes the janitor's hands are thick and large, the veins poking out beneath latex gloves. Murky water sloshes inside the mop bucket, the trash bag filled to the brim and budging.

It's just a janitor.

But like an annoying tick on his ass, something doesn't let old man Abdul relax.

There's a buzz in the back of his mind like the one he'd get when he was being watched, and when he catches sight of the janitor's eyes beneath the wide-brimmed cap that buzzing stops; Instead replaced with a flash sense of wrongness in his bones and the feeling of tar inside his heart and an indescribable scent — like stale beer and burnt grass and deep dark rot — it has his fingers moving to the trigger before the sight of magic melting through latex can make the short trip from his eyes to his brain—

Glowing lines spring into thin air to form magic circles before their eyes.

The warding totems shatter.

'Pop' goes a head.

Both bodies drop to the ground.

"Could have told me there was a dog." Your words scrape against your throat like shards of glass from the disuse, melted latex stretching into long strands as you take off the cleaner gloves and throw them away, your fingers steaming and glowing hot with mana before you hide them away in tactical gloves.

"I-" Taim tries to say but his voice fails him, eyes and mind still blinded by the harsh glare of magical fire.

"Save it." You cut him off, pulling open the lip of the trash bag to dig out your facemask helmet. It's both a full face helmet and a gasmask, scratched up from years of use but still able to protect your head while keeping you anonymous. A shame it can't filter out the stench of burnt flesh, but you've gotten used to it.

Taim's vision clears and the moment his eyes settle on the charred remains of Abdul's head— the hollowed out skull where concentrated flame had burned a hole straight through everything in it's path, the flesh and bone charred black —he's scrambling away as fast as his feet can push him, the shattered remains of your warding totem crumbling beneath his fingers. Bile rises in his throat and he coughs when he breaths in, but his stomach is thankfully empty so he ends up dry heaving.

"On your feet." Your words are hard to understand under your gasmask, but you don't need to raise your voice. The tone you use has him scrambling to his feet in seconds.

"I- I- yes sir!" Taim manages to stutter out, doesn't even have to fake his fear as he stands at attention. He watches you reach into the dirty water to pull out a Handheld Personal Computer and shake off the residual droplets to ensure it still works before putting it in your pocket.

"When is the next check in?" You ask, reaching further into the trash bag to grasp the handhold on the heavy gas canister hidden beneath office trash. You pull it out without much effort, setting it carefully on the ground so you can recheck that the release valve is intact.

"20 minutes sir." Taim responds and he doesn't need to know Arabic to know what's inside the canister when a grinning skull is printed on the metal.

You let out a low sound, and Taim tries not to peer too closely at you. Sometimes he wonders what face a person who burns people alive without a single second of hesitation could have, but then you look at him and he sees that unnatural glow of mana in your eyes behind the darkened lenses of the helmet and he's glad he's met with the emotionless visage of the mask rather than the one beneath it.

"You have 10 to get out before Hell opens up." You say, standing back up and picking up the canister without complaint. "Use the emergency tunnels, don't spook the VIPs."

Taim is human, not sensitive to magic like the monsters are, but even he can feel the latent mana in your veins that strengthens your body. Like maggots at the back of his skull. It makes a second round of bile rise to his throat. "Yes sir."

You pay close attention to him until he disappears down the corridor before going the opposite way. Alone, it is easier to calm the lingering heat in your veins until the eternal engine of mana in your chest fizzles down to embers like a sleeping beast. Can't have your mana mess with sensitive electronics, even if that does leave you exposed on the cams (as if there's anyone alive to watch them)

"Ifrit, status?" The small radio in your ear crackles.

"Moving to the target, encountered and neutralized a wolf." You answer, taking sharp turns as you follow a path you'd memorized beforehand. "No other monsters to report."

You were lucky to run into one down in the bowels of the conference hall instead of at the front gate. Otherwise your espionage mission would have turned into a frontal assault. Not that Khaled would have minded, you were getting paid to send a loud statement after all.

"Good." You don't need to see his face to know he's smirking, your employer wasn't a huge fan of subhumans. "Continue to the objective."

You respond in affirmative, coming to a heavy metal door, locked with a passcode and even a palm scanner; It's all a valiant effort to keep sensitive data safe, but it may as well be cardboard to you. You summon another circle, this time right on the door, biting your tongue. You're not good with 'subtle' but you haven't forgotten what Taurus or Sierra had taught you; first pushing a bit of loose ash magic between the large atoms making up the metal to disrupt the bonds, then a single pulse of fire ignites the volatile ash and has the entire bottom half crumbling into red hot shards.

Molten slag drips down to the floor when you duck down under the remaining half of the door to find yourself in the server room. Steam rises when the cold air meets your hot skin, but you hardly notice as you first head to the ventilation system at the back of the room. It's dark, but you don't bother turning on the lights, the subtle mana in your eyes enough to give you primitive night vision.

"Ifrit to Alpha-Actual, connecting the payload right now." You say, setting the canister down. The ventilation collects the air from the server room to push it through the entire building and then outside, so all you have to do is melt a hole through the exit pipe until it's big enough for the hose on the canister to fit snugly inside.

"And the files?" Khaled's voice sounds in your ear once you're finished.

"Going now." Standing back up you head to the central server. Taking out the HPC you hook it up to the mainframe, watching the screen until it shows 'connection secure'. "I'm connected."

"Copy that." Your eyes scan the cracked screen (which you broke less than a week after getting it), seeing the file transfer start before Khaled even finishes speaking and trying to read and memorize the names of dozens the files but they change too quickly. "File transfer ETA 5 minutes. Sit tight."

Giving confirmation you keep an eye on the doorway. Though you are positioned in such a way that you'd see the shadow of someone coming in before they see you, years of being behind enemy lines and acting as a friendly to your foes has taught you to be careful. Especially when you can't use more than a smidgeon of mana without frying the entire server system.

You are lucky that no-one comes, the remaining guards too busy guarding the diplomats above you to check what's beneath their noses. While waiting you access the public stream to watch the peace talks, setting the sound to the lowest possible setting so you can keep an eye on the diplomats in case you need a change of plan.

"Got the files, you're clear to finish." You're moving before Khaled can finish speaking, leaving the HPC to hang by the cord from the server. "Oh, and remember: Loud."

"You get what you pay for sir." Kneeling down next to the gas canister you check to ensure your gas mask is firmly on and breathing in deeply; It restricts your breathing and makes muscles work harder, but your body is so used to it that it feels like coming back home.

"Letting the gas out now." Even with the gas mask you still hold your breath when you open the valve, the gas hissing as it escapes the canister, the fan right next to you helping push it through the system. You know there's not enough gas to reach the diplomats on the top floor, it's part of the plan, so when the gas pitters out you cast another circle inside the pipe.

The servers around you flicker meekly and crackle with electricity when you use your mana fully; Something intense and suffocating burns behind your sternum for just a second before liquid mana is rushing down your veins into your hands and coming out through the magic circle as copious amounts of ash.

The rotating fan right next to you spews some of your ash right back at you, flooding the server room in magic that has long since accepted your body enough not to hurt you. But even your seasoned stomach feels tight when you breathe in the mixture of ash and toxic gas, the chemicals turning your magic a nasty shade of green, and you make a mental note to change the filter when you're done with the op otherwise the toxified sediment collecting in there will poison you for months.

You can hear the diplomats begin to cough over the livestream in the HPC, but it all feels so distant when you shift and feel cold dog tags press against your burning chest. They're light like a noose around your neck, yet the absence of weight mocks you in a way their owners no longer can.

There's a familiar sting in your bones when your mana reservoir begins dwindling, but it's easy to push through it until the engine in your chest goes into overdrive from the stress the magic puts on your body. You only stop when the burning mana in your veins starts burning small holes in the sleeves of the janitor jacket, revealing bits of your mage marked skin.

Stopping the flow of ash your hands find themselves in your pocket, taking out a lighter. It's one of those old zippo lighters, the exterior is rusted from years of action and numerous initials are scratched into the metal, but somehow it still functions; It's the strange thing about it— the more you use it, the longer it lasts. Stop, and it dies.

"It's a bit like you, firebug."

Absentmindedly you trace the scratched initials in the metal, trying to ignore the hollowness in your chest when the screams beyond the smokescreen of ash start sounding familiar.

"Going dark." You say to them, flicking it open.

One spark is all it takes.

. . .

With Makarov having gone underground like a wanker after his escape from the gulag, Price and Laswell had been stuck with their heads in mountains of paperwork searching for the bastard. Price had known he'd be in for a headache the moment he agreed to let the boys watch a live football game between England and Scotland, but he reasoned they'd all been working hard enough to earn even a small break.

At the very least it gave them all a moment of reprieve from the stress of a possible world war.

It didn't stop Soap from being a bloody muppet.

"Oh fockin' 'ell!" Soap roars and jumps to his feet, growling at the teli where a ref held a red card above her head. "That should've been a yellow! Fock, one more eye and the ref's a right cyclops." He waves obscenities at the teli as if the ref can see them, his tail hitting Gaz every time it wagged.

"Soap!" Gaz groans and stretches one black wing to smack the werewolf over the head with his long flight feathers to stop him blocking the screen.

Though Gaz's wings are hollow, the smack still hurts. "Ow, what's that for?" Soap groans, rubbing the back of his head.

"At least take your defeat with a wee bit of dignity." Gaz smirks, folding his wings.

"Bold assumption he has any." Ghost mutters next to Price, making him chuckle.

“Oh ho! I’ll get me dignity when the bloody ref gets off 'er knees an’ stops blowing the entire game.” Soap turns to playfully snap his teeth at Gaz. "And what's tha-"

The football match cuts out, replaced with a news segment.

"-Oh, what the fock?" Soap grows quiet when the newscaster begins speaking.

"We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming to bring you breaking news. As we speak, the conference hall in Al Mazra, where diplomats from over 40 countries had come to discuss peace and trade agreements with the newly reinstated Urzikstan government, burns in the flames of another terrorist attack."

The footage shifts to a drone filming a bird's eye view shot of violent flames spewing from every hole and window to engulf the entire three story building in consuming fire, heavy plumes of smoke rising into the sky like a maw of a hungering beast to spew a storm of ash and cinders down to the ground. The clouds of ash have a sick green undertone to them.

"Shit." Gaz sucks in a breath.

"Mokarov's done hiding." Ghost notes, leaning in to look closely at the screen with narrowed eyes.

"How the fock did we miss this?" Soap asks the question in their minds, turning to look at Price. "This popped up like bloody whack-a-mole."

At that same time Price's phone rings. The dragon quickly fishes it out of his pocket, seeing Laswell's name as the caller ID before he picks it up while the reporter drawls on.

"Price, are you-"

"Yeah, I'm watching the teli." He cuts her off, knowing what she's going to say. Distantly he can hear the same news report sounding on her end.

"Authorities warn citizens to vacate the immediate area as toxic gas has been detected in the air. Military forces are already enroute, but the prospects for the diplomats survival are nonexistent."

Price's draconic eyes focus on the screen when the footage shifts to that inside the conference hall. Two diplomats argue about something Price can't begin to try and untangle, his focus on one man near the back who begins coughing. More follow suit, and even over the screen Price can tell the signs of toxic gas inhalation by the way more diplomats begin wheezing and coughing wetly.

"This isn't the Russians." Kate says after Price has put her on speaker.

"How come? Looks like some terrorist shite Makarov would pull." Johnny says, his tail curled up and the tip wagging occasionally as he pays attention to the screen.

Seconds later plumes of blackish-green smog erupt from the vents above the diplomats, spewing out with such force it knocks the the camera and the man behind it down to the ground. Ash Magic, Price realizes when he sees smoldering cinders drift almost peacefully in the all consuming fog. Seconds later something causes a spark and the volatile ash magic explodes.

"Ash mage." Ghost grunts, "Just great."

"Makarov doesn't use mages." Price says, scratching his beard.

"No, but Al-Asad does." Kate's voice drifts through the silent room as they watch several APC's arrive on the scene, armored soldiers exiting. But without any monsters who can stomach the heat like Price and with the fog of ash so thick it could be cut with a knife, the best they can do is secure the perimeter. "The CIA intercepted his broadcast before it went public, this is just the start."

Gaz hops off the couch, crossing the small distance to tap one claw at the screen. "What is that?" He asks. Seemingly hearing him, the drone camera focuses on where the main entrance of the building had been.

A dark silhouette of a person can be seen in the flames, growing darker and more refined until finally a featureless helmet emerges from the flames, a deep glow emanating from behind the lenses. It's followed by a body, clothes burnt away in some parts but the flesh beneath unharmed. Price can tell immediately it's a mage by the state of the arms — even from far away it's easy to tell the mage marks, the skin turned rough and dark like cooled magma, veins brimming with volatile mana.

Before the soldiers can fire a single bullet you lift one hand up, the dark mage marks turning to bright like fresh lava when mana flows from your chest to your fingers. A magic circle etches itself into the ground in an instant, so large the surrounding buildings fall into it's perimeter.

And with a second motion of your hand everything erupts into an all consuming cloud of ash.

Laswell's voice rings out. "That's Khaled's new attack dog."

Price and Ghost share a look, both know what will happen long before some nervous soldier caught in the ash cloud pulls the trigger. The cloud of ash explodes the second a spark is created in a weapon's chamber, plunging everything into chaos.

Great, a new wanker to worry about.

Price sighs, brows furrowing. "That's trouble all right."

Tag list: @resident-cryptid @diejager @lovingtyrantkitten @lieutnt

Masterlist <- Chapter 1 (you are here) -> Chapter 2

You can imagine the helmet however you want, but it's in the style of the Devtac Ronin helmet.

[cheezeybread]

Yuu's Overblot, Part Three!

The final chapter, the end to this triage of angst and stuff! Yippeeeeee!

- - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -

"Hey, YN!" Chirped one of the students in your Alchemy class, leaning across the table to give you an award-winning smile. He had short hair, nearing a buzzcut, allowing his ears to twitch and move freely- what was he, a jackal beastman?- and wore a Savanaclaw uniform. "You wanna be partners for this assignment?"

You forced down a groan, knowing this guy's habit of partnering up with you for projects and leaving you high-and-dry to do all the work yourself. Before you could reply, you felt a hand gently rest itself on your shoulder.

"Actually, they said before class that we could partner up." You glanced up to see Jade, giving a tight-lipped smile at the Savanaclaw boy.

"How's about you and me partner up, Sunfish?" Floyd asked with a wide grin, appearing out of nowhere and squatting down to be eye-to-eye with the boy. Without waiting for a response, he wrapped an arm around the students and began to drag him away, the Savanaclaw boy whining fearfully as his tail tucked between his legs.

You leaned back in your chair to look up at Jade, eyebrow raising "Sunfish?"

"They're useless creatures who are rather ugly..." Jade chuckled, putting a hand over his mouth "My dear brother enjoys putting the nomer on creatures he finds unsavory."

"You guys are nuts," You chuckled. They weren't even in this class with you, since they weren't Freshmen. But lately, they had a tendency to show up whenever you needed it most. Especially when it came to classmates wanting to use you to do their work for them. But sometimes they weren't there....which gave you a perfect opportunity to practice on saying no to any students.

But you'd be lying if you said you didn't find it entertaining to watch the tweels use their powers of being terrifying for your benefit.

---

Everything was getting better.

All of your friends- even the Housewardens you weren't on the best speaking terms with- began working harder to make your life easier. Riddle made sure you understood all of your assignments, and helped you learn new studying techniques. Trey baked you goodies. Cater helped you learn more about the world through social media. Ace and Deuce were more supportive and protective of you. Leona, Ruggie, and Jack all made sure that you had a room available in Savanaclaw if anything happened again- or if Ramshackle were to collapse on itself. Azul made sure his VIP door was almost always open to you if you needed financial advice, and he made good on his promise to get you an easy job. The Twins, well....they did their thing. Kalim invited you to every party he threw (not that he didn't do that before) and gave you gifts from his homelands, providing you with furniture and decorations for Ramshackle. Jamil made sure you ate well, cooking whenever he felt you were having a bad day. Vil helped you with skincare and Alchemy work, even lending you some potions to use in "emergency" situations if you ever came across unsavory folks. Rook was- well, he was Rook. Epel offered a helping hand in the way of a beating if anybody messed with you. Idia and Ortho made certain that you had more than enough tech to keep you on a level playing field with magic-users. Malleus lent a shoulder to cry on and a venting buddy. Lilia and Sebek taught you self-defense. Silver was also a venting buddy, but he offered less than reasonable solutions to your problems (most of which were purely for chuckle purposes). And Grim tried to get into less trouble. Tried.

And all of the Housewardens kept their promise about researching a way to get you home. You'd receive updates on their progress once a week. Sometimes they'd have a bit of info found in an old library book that might have been about your world, or maybe a passage found on dimensional travel. Sometimes they wouldn't have any updates, but they'd still be sure to tell you.

And as for Crowley himself. Well....Malleus wasn't lying when he said that he had him tied up in Diasomnia's basement. It gave you an opportunity to have a nice little "chat" with the Headmage without him interrupting with his incessant babbling. It almost pained you to take the gag off of him. But the two of you came to an agreement that you wouldn't be doing his work for him anymore. You would be living in Ramshackle for free, not only because you and Grim were a student together, but because it was the Mirror's fault you were trapped here. You owed Crowley nothing for merely existing in the wrong place.

And you started to feel better about life, bit by bit. With almost all of the pressure taken off of you, it made life feel more easy, more relaxing. You started to enjoy your time in Twisted Wonderland, even! Maybe if there really was no way for you to go home, then you could make a happy life for yourself here.

Maybe.

Maybe not.

But it was nice to have the option. And it was nice to feel okay since this all started.

You were better.

- - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -

[parad-ice-lostandfound]

Prompt: The Prefect and their friends talk about the events of the Glorious Masquerade and come to some... rather belated conclusions.

Pairing: GN!Prefect/ Yuu/ MC with Deuce Spade, Epel Felmier and Sebek Zigvolt (Platonic)

Genre: Crack

TW: Slight spoilers for Book 5 of Glorious Masquerade.

AN: So... finally read the ending of Glorious Masquerade. I have very many feelings about Malleus and Rollo (obviously) but I also have many feelings about the Prefect's immunity to the firelotuses that everyone so conveniently forgot. In Idia's words, they're all a bunch of 'unga bunga, brute force' kinda people lmao-

This is also my first time writing for Sebek and Epel so I'm very nervous lol. If they seem out of character or something else seems weird, let me know!

"Man, I'm beat."

Deuce flopped onto your bed, sinking into the soft mattress with a sigh of relief. You smiled at him, running a comb through your hair to remove any tangles in it.

The two of you were already in pyjamas, tired from a night of dancing and socializing. You were waiting on a few more people though.

"Did you tell Epel and Sebek to meet us in my room?" You asked him as you ran your comb through your hair. The older students had to report the entirety of the previous night to Professor Trein, so you had decided that the first years could have their own tea-spilling session in your room. Grim, however, wanted to hear the heroic tales of the older students (and regale them with his own, no doubt) so he was with Professor Trein instead of being with you.

"I told Epel" his voice was muffled as he spoke, face smushed against the pillow. "He said they'd be here-"

Knock, knock. "Prefect? Are you in there?"

You walked over to the door, opening it to find Epel and Sebek, both in their pyjamas as well. Epel smiled at you, holding his hands behind his back, "I got Sebek like Deuce told me to."

"Human, what is the meaning of this?" Sebek huffed, too tired to yell his words like he usually did. He crossed his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes at you. "As a retainer of Malleus-sama, I must get the required eight hours of sleep to continue to serve him diligently. How dare you keep me up after a night of saving the entirety of Twisted Wonderland from those abysmal flowers, and another night of merry-making?"

His words lacked their usual fire, so you just gave him a cheeky smile and pulled the two of them inside, closing the door behind them. "Come on, I just wanna talk to you guys. Besides, I have snacks."

Epel gave you a side-eye, trying to keep a cheeky smile from forming on his face. "Vil would be so mad."

"What Vil doesn't know won't hurt him~" you hummed, and Epel giggled. Sebek just sighed, taking his place on your bed after nudging Deuce a little.

"And then, when the flowers started climbing up his tail, he climbed onto Professor Trein's shoulder!"

"What?!" "Oh my-" "HOW ILL-MANNERED!"

You giggled at the reactions of your friends as you recounted Grim's actions. The four of you were sat on your bed. You were sitting with your back against the headboard, a pillow on your lap on which Deuce rested his head. With his feet planted on the bed and his knees in the air, his legs made a backrest for Epel who leaned against them, sitting with his legs criss-crossed. On your right side sat Sebek, with the snacks you four were sharing in the middle of the bed.

"I had half a mind to pull him off Professor Trein, but before that, the Bell of Solace rang," you hummed, messily braiding Deuce's hair as you spoke. "And then all the flowers wilted, and well, you know the rest."

"I still can't believe Grim tried to climb Professor Trein," Epel giggled as Sebek shook his head. Deuce sighed, looking up at you, "Well, I can't blame the little guy for being scared. Those flowers were no joke."

"Yeah, for you guys maybe. For me, they were just plain old flowers, if a little persistent and irritating," you shrugged.

"What?"

"Magicless human, remember?"

All three boys looked at you like you had grown three heads and burst into song and dance. You gave them a defensive glare, "What? I'm just saying, those things were perfectly harmless to me."

"....Yeah... Wait, does this mean we could have just sent you up to ring the bell?"

"Probably not...? I mean, Rollo was there on the top guarding the bell wasn't he? If he used magic against me, I'd be defenceless."

"Well, Rollo seemed a bit... partial towards you? You could've tricked him like you did with Azul-senpai that one time..." Deuce trailed off, and the four of you took in his words.

There was a moment of silence before-

"YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THERE WAS NO NEED TO PUT MALLEUS-SAMA IN DANGER?!"

[honey-minded-hivemind]

🖤Dark AU, Post One, Blast from the Past:

(Warning: Descriptions of wounds, scars, blood, as well as mentions of death, platonic yanderes being creepy and scary, and Reader being close to passing out. You have been warned...)

• You groan, your eyes squeezed shut tight and hard, your chest heaving and bleeding... Were you in Heaven...? Were you in H*ll...? Dust is thick in the air, along with the scent of sulphur and weeping iron. Every inch of your skin hurts...

• Something taps you, soon shaking your arm lightly. "Reader... Reader, get up...!" You groan again, but hesitantly peak an eye open, cracking its barrier between cold darkness and cool air. Leaning over you, looking down at you with gentle, worried eyes, is Kurt. Huh... wait a minute- Weren't you... Didn't you all...?

• "Kurt...?" You can't help but ask. It can't be... You can't be... But if he's here, and so are you... Where is-

• "READER!" shouts a happy, teary voice, and suddenly your tackled in a messy, warm hug by Kitty. Tears run down her face, and her hair's a mess, but she's here, alive, and crying all over you. "Don't ever do that again!"

• "So is Pietro...?" You're answered by a bruised Pietro looking over her shoulder, giving you a harsh glare. "What were you THINKING?! You could have-!" He holds his tongue, but he and Kurt end up hugging you too, and now all four of you are crying, holding onto the only comfort and friends nearby. "Guys, I'm fine-"

• You feel a sharp sting in your chest, then feel a wetness spread across your shirt. Okay... You're not fine. Your head hurts, your arms feel like someone cut them open, and you feel tired enough to slip into a coma. And your friends don't look much better... Kurt has a jagged scar around his throat, a bit of blood matted into the fur, a cut lacing his cheek. His arms shake, and his tail is wrapped tightly around your ankle, also shaking, like you might disappear... Kitty is firmly hugging all of you, but there's a hole through her blouse, almost like someone... There's a bruise, dark and ugly, on each of her arms, with fingerprint marks... And Pietro... He doesn't look you in the eye, but keeps humming, holding on to you and the others tightly, his pulse sharp and too fast, even for him... There is blood in his hair, a fresh scar above his eye, and dried flecks of red across his face and neck...

• You... you do remember what happened last... Your head being bashed into a hard floor... Deep, bruising hands holding your arms behind you... Whispers of hate and malice, all directed at you... The sting of a knife on your legs, your arms... Then the cold, burning touch of a blade ripping through your shirt, through your skin, until red oozed out and your head felt light... And everything going dark as you heard screams and sobbing...

• ... You all should be dead, shouldn't you? But... you're not, are you? You can hear your friends' breathing, feel their shaking forms hugging each other, see the harrowed, desperate look on their faces... If you're alive, this is a miracle. But that raises the question...

• "Where... where are we? Where are the others? Are we home?" You pull yourself away, then struggle to your feet. Looking around, you see dark, warped walls and barely flickering lights. Old scratches mar the floor, along with dark splatters of what, you'd rather not guess. Dust coats every surface, even the air is filled with it. And you and your friends... are in the middle, like a piece out of place. Your fami- team, they'd be looking for you, or would have had you all in an infirmary or hospital right now. So... why aren't you? Did they not find you? But why are you alive if they aren't here? Something... something isn't quite adding up...

• Kurt looks around, but joins you, his tail wrapping around your leg again. Pietro and Kitty follow, Kitty helping the speedster stand. "Whoa, this place looks like a mess!" She glances over at you, then back at the walls. "Wasn't this, like, where it... y'know...?" And she's right, on both accounts. This place looks awful, and... it is where you last remember being... Except it looks abandoned, and it wasn't abandoned ten minutes ago... How long were you all out?

• "Ja, this place looks like an animal hit it," Kurt adds. His fingers twitch lightly, nervously, and he steps closer to you. "Perhaps ve can go somevhere else? With a less creepy look?" Pietro nods, still not looking at you. You frown, wondering what's wrong... Kitty and Kurt glance over at you, then gasp. You raise a brow, then let out a small groan at the bruised feeling. "What is it? I can't look that bad..."

• One of them grabs an old coat, long since left to gather dust, and tosses it over you, fastening it. "Um... it's best you cover up. You... You're still bleeding, and your shirt is kinda useless, now," Kitty says, carefully making sure the coat stays pressed to your wound, and Kurt nods. "Right. I think ve need to see a doctor..." Pietro snorts. "Yeah, we do..." You nod, not wanting to talk. The four of you work your way carefully through the facility, watching out for shattered glass and fallen weapons. It looks like a fight broke out, but against what? You try not to think on it, or on anything, too deeply. You don't really want to think right now...

• The halls are dark, with the occasional working light. Old splatters of dark gore coat the walls and floors, along with scattered papers and coats. You can smell the old, sweetly rotten stench of death down some corridors, which you steer the others away from. You just survived death... You don't want to see more of it... Everything is quiet, lifeless. It's cold, causing shivers to race through your body. Why would anyone leave this place like this? Were they in a rush? Or did someone attack them? You stop your train of thought there, not liking the possible answers.

• You four eventually stumble into a garage or hangar, and spot a few vehicles. Along one wall are some keys, and Kurt goes over, grabbing a few. He waves them, smiling, amd you can't help but grin back. Looks like you all are in luck for once. "Let's get out of here!" he cheers quietly, then tries the button on one of the key sets. A jeep-like vehicle lets out a noise, sending you all huddling together, eyes wide and stances defensive. But nothing else happens. It's just the car, and now you all can leave. "C'mon, guys, let's go," Pietro grumbles, and you and Kitty help him walk over to the vehicle while Kurt gets in the driver's seat. You situate Pietro in the back, keeping his legs up and laid across you lap, while Kitty climbs into the front passenger seat, ready to help you all phase through any obstacles. "Ready, guys?" Kurt asks, and a resounding "Yep!" goes through the car. Then the jeep pulls out, and you're all moving, slowly pulling away from the worst nightmare you've ever had...

• The ride is quiet, filled with soft chatter between you four, as you figure out exactly where you are. You're somewhere in Canada, which, while it isn't ideal, at least means you're not too far from the others... Huh. What are they going to think of this mess? If you're lucky, Logan won't lock you up in the infirmary for the next year. And the Professor might give another lecture, maybe about safety and being more alert, but you'd give anything to hear it. Storm is going to be so worried when she sees you and the others like this. Beast hopefully won't be too rattled... Not to mention Mr. Lehnsherr, Pietro's dad. Ha. He... he isn't going to be pleased. At ALL. Mystique is not going to leave Kurt alone once he's feeling better. And Sabretooth might actually make good on his threat to eat the next human who looks at y'all funny... You... you really missed them. All of them. Even the other teens...

• Scott and Jean and Rogue and Evan... They won't let you sleep without one of them trying to sleep over in the infirmary. Scott will try to lecture you all, then end up saying not to disappear again. Jean will just be glad you're back, hugging you all to death. Rogue will get mad, but she'll forgive you for... for disappearing. And Evan will call dibs on sleeping over with y'all, and catching you up on what happened. Then there's Lance and Fred and Todd and Wanda... Lance will call you all idiots, probably secretly worried. Fred would cry, then squeeze y'all into a hug. Todd would try to stay chill, but end up crying, possibly more than Fred. And Wanda would put you all on house arrest, while she exacts her revenge... You miss them all, too...

• You saw them as family, okay? You just... you could never tell them. You never did. You didn't want to lose them if you told them. They were the best thing to ever happen to you, accepting you and giving you a home and friends and people who cared for you and your health and safety. They were kind, maybe a little silly, and they meant so much to you. You always tried to make them smile. It was the least you could do. You loved them, with all your heart. When they saw you again... would they be mad? Would they kick you off the team? Would they cry? Or would they just hug you all and not let you get up until you've been healed? ... They probably were worried sick, wherever they are. So you need to contact them as soon as possible, so they can pick you all up and get you to see a doctor and make sure you weren't bleeding out or suffering from a concussion.

• "Hey..." You turn to look over at Pietro. He's still not looking straight at you. His hands are still shaking, the knuckles white from how tight they're gripping each other. You take one hand in yours, and shift, making sure he can see you clearly. "... I'm not mad, with what you did, okay? I just... please, don't do it again... We... we could have lost you..."

• You nod, squeezing his hand. "I promise... I... I'd do it again, though. I love you guys. I hope you know that." After the... Incident... you'd rather not talk about it ever again. But you won't hide how much you love your friends, or how you feel towards them. "I'm sorry for scaring you, Tro." He snorts, eyes closing for a minute, then his hand squeezes yours. "Just don't do it again." You smile softly. "I'm not planning on it."

• You tune back into Kitty and Kurt's conversation. She's pointing out the nearest town on the map she's pulled out, and Kurt's asking questions on how close it is. A few signs loom out of the inky darkness, depicting a town name... You sigh, leaning back and closing your eyes. Yet the longer they stay shut, the more images flash in your head, of bright red and cold steel and wide, terrified eyes and loud screaming- Your eyes flick back open, and you take to looking out the window. Trees pass by, as do rocky inclines and some peaks, with pine trees and large stones and deep grooves... The stars are small and shining, like small fireflies in the dead of Autumn... The window pane is cool to the touch, and the wind whistles by, low and soothing... You're safe... You're all safe...

• The car slows to a stop once you reach a town, careful to park at a gas station not close to anyone. There's only one or two other cars there, so no one should really notice you. You shake Pietro awake, who grumbles, but accepts your help getting out. Kurt takes up the task of helping him walk, while you keep an eye out for danger. There's no one outside... You four enter with a small jingle of the door, and find the store silent. The person at the cashier counter is partially asleep, not paying attention, while a lady shuffles in the back. Good. That means no trouble. You let Kitty grab some drinks while Kurt and Pietro handle snacks, as you need to figure out the date... You almost pass by a stack of newspapers, but pull back to glance over them... But...

• Something isn't right about them. The headlines are weird, with mentions of a new president... there's no paragraphs about mutant-human relations... and the year... it... it has to be wrong.... There's no way it's been that long-! It, it couldn't be possible... You perk up, on edge, but only hear Kitty calling for you from the front. She and the boys had some food for the road, and you quickly grab a few granola bars as you make your way up to them. The cashier, now semi-awake, stares at you four, a mix of shock and confusion on their face. Kurt pipes up. "Is this enough to cover it?" He presses a few twenty dollar bills towards them, then smiles sheepishly. "Sorry. Ve are...traveling! Yes! And, are going to meet friends..." The person just stares. They look at the money, mumble about not drinking anymore soda, then hand you all the bags of your snacks. "Good night! And, like, thanks!" Kitty adds, then you four trail out the door, hurrying to the car. You and Kurt set Pietro back up in the back seats, you sit next to him, Kitty sits in the front passenger side, and Kurt pulls back into the driver's seat.

• You all are not graceful while you eat. You're pretty sure you all almost choked a few times trying to stuff enough granola and chips down to stave off any hunger pains. You aren't sure when you all ate last... You chew through some jerky and fruit gummies while Kitty takes apart a bag of mixed granola. Kurt is drinking a whole bottle of water, and Pietro inhales the sugary snacks as fast as possible... By the time you four are done, you feel doubly tired. The others' soft groans assure you that you aren't the only one who feels that way. "Where to, Kurt?" You're curious, and wondering how much further before you reach a more populated town. "I think ve're close enough to..." he points at the map, at a small star with a tiny name above it. "Ve can go there, and try and contact the others..." A tired cheer fills the car, then you're all back on the road...

• The night stretches on, long and unending. It feels nice, being with the others, being so close to going home... You push the old lab coat together over your wound, holding back a pained hiss. For some reason, it isn't closed up or completely scarred over... It isn't as deep as you remember, but it still hurts... You keep an eye on the passing roads and trees and towns, enjoying a few car games with the others as you wait. And then, there it is... a city close to Bayville...

• You four are careful as you park, exiting the jeep. You know Kurt can't hide, and you all look worse for wear... The best thing is to stick together and avoid people when you can... The city is unusually quiet from what you remember. Most people aren't out, or if they are, they're inside. You see a few TVs flashing in a window, but don't watch for long. You hate the news, always discussing mutants and how to control them... You and the others stick to more shadowed sidewalks, peering at signs and at windows, hiding when anyone looks your way. No one seems to notice, or care... It's odd, but it's useful at the moment. You end up finding a payphone, and pull out some coins. "So, who should call them?"

• You speak up, "I remember the number for the Institute..." You're shoved towards the phone, and as you enter the change and press the right buttons, you feeled worried, for a minute. Like something might be wrong... The phone rings, and you hold it close. It picks up, and you're quick to start talking. "U-um, hi, guys! Uh, we, we kinda need you to pick us up. We're, uh, we're a town over from Bayville, I think- The others say hi, but not to worry, we're fine. W-we promise not to do something like this again, this got... a little out of hand- I can't wait to see you! So, um... please come pick us up? Soon? It's, a bit cold, and I don't think we're dressed to be walking around people... Um, this is Reader. See you soon. Love you. Bye," you finish. Your call was... a mess. But so were you, your friends, and this entire situation. You all would be lucky if you weren't grounded for this. Or set on bedrest for a few weeks. Or banned from a month of missions. Heh. You. You really missed them...

• "Okay. Now we just wait... Let's find somewhere... quieter, than this," you tell them. Pietro points out something. "Maybe one of my dad's old bases..." You stare at him for a moment, along with the others. "What?! It's useful, isn't it?" "Yeah, totally." "No problems here!" "Um... yeah, that sounds good. What is the base, exactly, Tro?" He shifts for a moment, then answers, "It's an old warehouse. It isn't too far away, and it's not like most people would hang out there..." You all agree that's the best option, and start walking. You and Kitty help support Pietro, switching off with Kurt when you're halfway there. You can't see any humans nearby, and can't smell any. You only hear the rustle of wind and the chitters of small rodents as you four walk by. The weather is chilly, and you can't wait to be indoors. Is it Autumn? You aren't sure... Pietro tells you all to turn down a sidestreet, and soon a large building looms ahead. The warehouse... Huh. Who knew his dad's obsession with having many bases would come in handy...

• Entering the building isn't a problem. Making your way to a few boxes, half-hidden in the shadows, lets you all sit for a few minutes. The building is full of large crates and old tarps, some old machines or tables lying here or there. It's almost maze-like, half-cast in shadows, then in bright lights... You can hear the shift in the air, the slight rumble of an aircraft, and you quiet, shushing the others and pointing up. You can feel the excitement, the joy at going home... But... you don't know why, but you stay back, anxiety buzzing at your mind...

• You can hear the low hum of voices, the sounds of people walking, and then... the doors are opening. You watch the shadows as they form along the floor, you note the scent of your team, you can feel the slight tension in the air... And then there they are, and they're watching you, and you're staring at what looks like strangers wearing the skin of your family.

• They're older. The adults look haggard, a little thinner, more desperate. You don't remember them ever looking so upset. And the teens... some are adults now, and they all look haunted, hopeful, so breakingly hopeful... They never looked that sad before. Who... who are these people? Where is your team? Are you all in the wrong universe? Is this a nightmare? Because... this can't be real... Can it?

• "Kids...?" You hear one of the adults ask that, stepping forward slightly. There's a thick tension in the air, one that you're afraid to cut. "It... it can't be..." You see a small shift in the group. "Who are you?" You almost bristle at that. Who are you? Who are they! How dare they wear your friends faces, or impersonate them! "It's us! Who are you?!" Your words burn as you say them, but you shift so they can see you a little.

• "Dad...? W-what is this? Wait... Wanda?" Pietro whispers. He looks shocked, and you watch the reaction of the other group carefully. Two of them look like Pietro's family... But his dad looks older, thinner, more... the only word you can think of is insane... And Wanda doesn't look much better, except she looks so... desperate. So hopeful. You can see what looks like Logan and Storm there, too, along with Mystqiue and Rogue and Sabretooth and Scott... Is everyone magically older, somehow? And sad? And... creepy? In an almost scary way?

• "Scott...? Why are you older...?" Kitty asks nervously. Kurt lets out a small gasp when he spots Rogue. She also appears older, taller, than what any of you remember. You keep yourself close to your friends, glaring slightly at the odd people before you. If these are your friends... then what the h*ll happened... Something seems to flick across your mind, someone pressing, checking, confirming, then they're gone... And in enters another person, who could only be Jean...

• "It's them..." she calls out, and that seems to cause a reaction in the group. They're now more hopeful, more watchful, more scary, in your eyes. You keep yourself in check, but listen as one of the adults steps forward... "Hey, kids... A lot happened, hasn't it?" You're quiet, but they continue... "We... we missed ya... We really did. You don't know how glad we are to see ya all again..." They step forward, and the team does too, all fanning out. You're tense now, ready to tug the others back in a heartbeat... "A lot has changed... We can talk about it in a bit, okay? You're safe... But... we need to go somewhere else. Somewhere to check up on ya. Okay? Now just... stay still... This won't take but a minute..." You twitch, and just in time you pull them back as a dart lands where one of your friends had just been. "RUN!"

• You all split up, taking different paths as you dodge behind crates and take to the shadows. You can hear pleads from the older team, begging you all to come out, to not hide from them... You hiss as you feel your wound reopen, and you drag yourself into the darkness. The crates hide you, the tarps fluttering softly in unseen currents, but you can hear the shuffle as you're all hunted. You duck behind a box when you hear footsteps, then see the dim glow from a visor... Scott...

• "Reader? Kid, did you go this way?" He walks around carefully, checking behind boxes and under tarps. "Please... please just come out. You're not in danger! You're completely safe. I'm... we're so, so sorry we didn't make it in time... I promise, we didn't stop until we avenged you..." He steps into the center, and you see a small smile splayed across his lips. "I really missed you... It's gonna be okay... C'mon! Brother's right here..." You hear something clatter in the distance, and he takes off, disappearing from sight. You sigh, tugging yourself onto a new path...

• You're in a row with tarps covering most of the area, keeping some things hidden from view... Some persons, too, as it turns out... You stiffen as someone comes across you, stepping from behind the old cloth... "Heh... Hey, sugah... did ya miss me?" You take a step back. Rogue... she... she looks like she's seen better days. You're quiet when she comes closer... "I- I am so glad to see you again. We all are.... You... you watched after Kurt, and Kitty. I... I'm sorry, what happened to ya..." She sighs, and you smell the scent of tears, salty and somber... "You're gonna be okay... All of you are... We just have ta get ya somewhere safe... Can ya do that? It's okay... you can trust me..." She's hopeful, and your gut churns, seeing her like this... You try to say something, but can't... She steps closer... Then there's a glint of something in her hand, and your eyes widen as you fall back, barely moving in time from the dart in her hand.

• "R-Rogue, w-what are you doing?!" You start running, knocking over a few crates as you get away. You twist, grunting in pain as you feel blood seep through the old coat. You... you need to hide... now... You struggle, but shapeshift, feeling yourself become smaller, your arms turn to wings, your sight sharpen... and then you're hopping, flapping, then taking flight. You soar carefully overhead, landing on top of a large crate overlooking the warehouse. You can see a few of the adults, near the front... They're around... oh no...

• You caw, loud and shrill, and take off. Your wings glide across the air, bringing you closer-

• Then you feel something hit you, and you fall, slowly changing back in a flurry of feathers and limbs... You groan, a hand pressing at your wound, trying to stop the blood... And stalking forward, right in front of you, is Logan... You shrink back, your back pressed hard into a box behind you as you try to stand. A whine slips past your lips at the movement, and you can only watch, helpless, as Logan squats beside you...

• "Hey, bub... Stop moving..." His hand is pressing down on you, and his nose twitches at the scent of blood and the sticky feel of it on his hand... "Kid..." He sounds upset, but keeps his hand pressed firmly to your wound. He sighs, then scoops you up, until your half-cradled against him. "What have they done ta ya...?" A deeper, warmer sigh escapes him. "You're goin' ta be okay... Just don't move... How have ya been, pup? I've missed ya..." A pained grunt escapes you, and you gasp sharply as he keeps you in place. "I know, I know, it hurts, pup... It's goin' ta be okay... I've got you..." A hum buzzes in his throat, and you feel his free hand pat your head. His eyes are warm, like little pools of rusty brown, or warm raisins... "Logan... I..." You whimper as his hand touches the wound on your head, that you didn't notice until then. "We need ta get ya ta Hank. Okay, pup?" He hums again, and you copy it for a second. "Just relax, okay? Deep breaths, look up, don't struggle..." Before you can ask why, something stings your shoulder. You hiss, then feel a pat at your back. "Good kid... You're about ta feel really tired, alright? It's nothin' ta worry about... Ya just need a bit of rest..."

• Strong arms are wrapped around you, then you're being picked up. Feeling weightless scares you for a minute, but then a soft rumble is heard, and you relax slightly. Your head... it really hurts... And you feel completely exhausted. Your eyes struggle to stay open, even when your wounds flarewith small bursts of pain. The humming picks up... You squint when lights shine down on you, but it quickly dims once you're back at the front of the building... You can see your friends also being held, and you try to move for a minute, wanting to check on them- "No, no, stay still..." Something holds you tighter, and your tired limbs stop struggling. You blink sleepily, wanting to know your friends are okay... "They're fine, kid... Just tired, too... Now, let's go home..."

• You feel more than watch as you're carried out of the warehouse, your friends being taken as well... The sky is still dark, but the air doesn't seem as cold... You feel a hand in your hair, and with a tired noise, you lean into the touch. It feels nice... You feel your thoughts slowing down, dripping into a quiet puddle as the familiar jet opens up for you all, and all you can think as you fall unconscious is whether you're going home...

[sinning-23]

Net (Shanks x Siren!Reader)

warmings; none

enjoy loviesss

Pt.2 found here

Scales of opal catch against the harsh netting, tearing them from your tail. You thrash around, breathing raged as you claw feverishly. Tears fill your eyes as the horror of your situation settles in.

You’re surrounded by men, all of whom are either too afraid to come closer or are simply watching you spiral into a panic attack. The sound of your jewelry clangs as they tangle with netting. You scream, the men covering their ears at the pitch and ferocity of the sound.

Your native tongue rolls off your lips with a hiss and you pull some of the net off your face and arms, it's wrapped tightly around your dorsal fin, the digging drawing more blood now. It mixes with the puddle of seawater on the deck, staining it red. They'd kill you...use you, sell you maybe.... mermaids were nice, but a siren...sirens were more of a treat considering they are far harder to catch

Helplessly, you curl into yourself.

"Captain, it was caught in one of the nets." One speaks, the rest of the men making space for this so called 'Captain' to observe you.

The blow of a sword never comes, and your scales are met with a gentle, warm touch. You flinch, trying to crawl away only to have the net that was very much so injuring you, tug against a tail. You yelp, feeling your legs begin to form from being dry for so long.

You still fight, trying to use the shredds of the net to cover. It proves to be unnecessary though, when a much larger, less torn piece of fabric covers you.

"You’re injured. Let us help." He speaks, finally earnign your attention.

And there it is. The calm silence that makes you slow. Lucky is what you were, that you'd been accidentally caught by a different kind of pirate. His eyes scan yours, not a hint of malice written in them.

Your gills are melding into your skin now, not completely hidden though, they always seemed to leave a sparkle behind along the flesh there. Your whole body did, hints of what looked like glittery scale tattoos covering parts of your neck and shoulders. He cuts the net now, your new legs scratched pretty deep.

_______________

The bath was warm, somehow soothing against your injuries as you gently cleansed your body with a simple soap and cloth. The red-haired Captain insisted you stay in his quarters for the time being, just until you were washed up and relaxed. You didn't speak, still trying to comprehend the language, your brain far more advanced in the sense that you only had to listen to one or two conversations to pick up a language. The light rapping at the door pulls you from your thoughts your eyes focused on the slap of wood.

"Yes?" Your voice is shaky, as if unsure of how to use it.

He clears his throat, trying to find the words.

"You're more than welcome to stay aboard until your injuries heal. And, then you're free to go." He explains, awaiting a response.

They weren't going to kill you? Had you actually lucked out and landed amongst some, less violent pirates? No. No they were definitely violent, but maybe only when they needed to be? Earlier had they seen no reason to be violent with you? Or fearful?

They really did just want to help...guilt floods your chest and you one your mouth to speak, an accent slightly remaining from your native tongue as you try to adapt to the English.

"Thank you"

_____6 weeks_________

Your legs were fully healed now, but you had yet to make your great escape back to the ocean.Mostly in slight fear of being captured by a ship far less friendlier but also in fear of never seeing him again. You had managed to spend every minute of the last 42 days shadowing him, helping his crew, and making yourself useful. At this point, you didn't really want to leave, and damn it could he tell.

You shared more...intimate touches than any Captain would a crewmate, and you couldn't help but melt at the new feeling. He was charming funny, and witty. He ensured you were safe, always having your pinkies interlinked or keeping you close in any way he could.

One night, he found you sitting alone at the ships helm, hair being blown by the breeze and moonlight dresses you in aglow. Your skin is illuminated with glitter, most likely just your biology as a mermaid. In any case, he's entranced. And while he takes in your calmed form, he hears it. The thing that made you a siren in the first place. that beautiful, beautiful voice. Low tones and melodies whisper lyrics he couldn't understand but he didn't care.

He just wanted to hear more of it. You freeze when one of the floor boards creaks underneath him and your head whips around in surprise. Shanks throws his hands up in defense and you flash a smile in return.

"Are you spying on me?" you joke, moving to come face-to-face with him. He shakes his head with that boyish grin.

“Not innitially, your voice caught me off guard guppy." He teases, the nickname making your heart jump.

"Why dont you go back home?" He asks, seeing your gaze move to the pitch black ocean below.

You swallow, debating wether you should amit to your current feelings for the Captain.

" Im scared I'll be captured again... and if I leave what if I never see you again." You voice, inhaling sharply whenhe wraps around you in a warm embrace.

You return it, finding yourself breathing him in with a smile, your arms squeezing him just as tightly as he was squeezing you.

“Then stay, y/n. With me.” He speaks, lifting your chin so your eyes meet.

You only nod, your lips connecting with his in a silent agreement. It’s soft but feverish, your bodies flush against one another and for once you were thankful to have been snagged in that net.

[8-rae-rae-8]

CW: Petre, sensory overload (briefly described), poly 141 undertones

Sometimes all he needed was to listen. Hard days followed Ghost no matter what had happened. It could have been a perfect mission, Johnny, Gaz and Price at his side and never missing a beat, but something could just feel wrong. Whether it was the blow of the wind, or the way his gloves rubbed into his palms, it managed to get under his skin with ease.

The tic of his hands every time he settled his weapon only served to irritate him more. Frustrated grunts coming from him over the most minor things. Ghost couldn't even be bothered to reply to some of Johnny's typically playful comments. Everything sounded like sandpaper to his ears.

It was only inevitable that he'd be called to talk to Price once they got back to base. A simple two week mission that felt like months to Ghost. Only growing more irritated day by day.

Upon seeing Gaz, Soap, and Price there, it felt he may have been more snappy than he had assumed. If he had a tail, it would have tucked between his legs.

"Simon." Price spoke sternly. The privilege of being The Ghost would only exist if it was purely a work problem. No, this was personal. His irritation was personal, and his misdirected anger was a mistake.

The other two simply sat on the chairs in front of Price's desk, eyes watching as Ghost stepped forward between them.

"I didn't mean to." Ghost was quick to say-No, Simon was quick to say. His gear was off, simple fabric balaclava in place of the plastic skull one.

"You need to rest though, aye?" Kyle asked, leaned back in the chair. His hand reached to rest on Simon's upper back.

Wordlessly, Simon nodded. Another hand slowly lowered him to his knees, and another pulled off the mask. A warm hand brushed through his hair. Simon didn't fight, he relaxed. He was in someone else's hands, someone he trusted. His mind felt fuzzy as he just listened and moved as he was made to.

His head was quick to lay against someone's thigh, Johnny's most likely. The hand brushed through the short but knotted hair, cleaning him up just a bit. Simon blinked slowly, letting himself breathe.

A candle was lit on Price's desk, a scent carefully chosen by Simon a while ago. A scent like fresh laundry, and not laundry using the SAS' provided things. Like laundry at home, warm and cozy.

It wasn't hard to ease Simon into regressing. He practically melted against Johnny's legs, an arm wrapped around one of his calves and his face buried in his thigh.

"That's a good boy..." Johnny cooed to him, while it seemed like Price and Kyle began talking about something else. Simon didn't catch on, all he understood was what Johnny was telling him.

"Ye just needed to relax, aye?"

Without all of the things that had made him feel icky in the field, relaxing really did make a world of difference. Simon slowly nodded.

His arms tightened a little around Johnny's leg when he shifted into a more comfortable position, pulling in deep breaths.

"Let's go rest in my room." Soap said, speaking to him almost like he was a little puppy. If he had a tail, it would wag.

Simon just nodded again, a small whine slipping from his lips. Just listen, let them take away all of the big things. No more choices, just a puppy. A little dog that knew how to listen and relax. They'd never use that against him.

Steady touch was used to help lift Simon to his feet, Johnny standing up with him and gently guiding him back to his room. Simon stumbled a few times, his head too fuzzy to do much more than looking around and huffing in complaint about having to move to get to ahere he wanted to be. Unfair to him, really.

The second they were there though, Simon hopped up on Soap's bed and nuzzled against the blankets. It smelled just like him, comforting and warm. He happily sunk into the firm mattress.

Johnny softly chuckled and simply pet his head after closing the door.

"yeah.. ye needed some puppy time." Soap smiled down at him when Simon huffed in return.

[ashthewaterghoul]

Mushy May Day 1: Sleepover - Phantom&Copia

Prompt list by @forlorn-crows can be found here All my Mushy May will be shorter stories and can also be found on ao3 :) Words - 860

    The gripped bottoms of Phantom’s bat slippers shuffled across the floor as the plush wings flapped with each step. And each step made their heart flutter with excitement because tonight – just like many nights before – Phantom is sleeping in with their Papa. Well, he is technically Frater, but to Phantom he will always be their Papa.

    They smiled at all the people they usually saw on their nightly walks up to Copia’s chambers, their fluffy pyjama pants and Jack Skellington hoodie on with their blanket and plushie for the night in hand. While they did have their own key for the room, the door was unlocked as always as they reached the Imperatorial Suite and they let themself in.

    “Ah, il mio pipistrello!” Copia said with a smile, arms already open that were instantly full of Phantom.

    “Hey, Papa.” They said as they tucked their head under his chin and nuzzled against his chest, inhaling that thick, comforting scent of stale tobacco and parchment paper.

    “How was your day?” He asked softly, burying his nose into their hair to smell their cosy lavender shampoo.

    “Meh… Long and warm and smelly.” They pouted as they recounted the horrors that is kitchen duty meeting their autism.

    Copia listened to every word as if they would become the new pages of the next Unholy Scriptures, and Phantom would become the idol of his worship. The human then went on to describe his day, sparing as many of the boring details as he could while still letting there at least be a couple things he could talk about. Phantom stared up at him with a wagging tail and eyes full of stars shining brightly for their Papa.

    “What are we eating tonight?” Phantom asked.

    “Your favourite.” Copia smiled.

    Phantom blinked, “Raw Hellbeast heart?”

    “No, scusa,” Copia chuckled softly, “Your human favourite.”

    Phantom smiled as they realised it was their Papa’s incredible spaghetti Bolognese with cheesy garlic bread. It was a simple enough dish but Phantom adored it and whatever Copia put it in to make it the best dish they'd ever tasted made it even better.

    “Fuck yes!” They celebrated, their nose scrunching up and down in what must be one of Copia’s favourite stims to see of his bambino.

    He booped their nose and took their hand to sit them down at their seat at his table – carefully chosen purely on the ability to cross their legs on top of the chair there and not get any glare on the TV – and brought them their plate and favourite Coke.

    “Thank you, Papa.” They smiled.

    “Of course, bambino.” Copia said, kissing the top of their head before taking his seat – the one directly next to Phantom – with his own glass of wine and dug in.

    Copia knew that Phantom often enjoyed silence while they ate, as a way to decompress from their days, and so he left the TV and his record player off. Copia had also learnt how to appreciate the silent company and found how it helped his own anxieties to know he didn’t have to force himself into unnecessary chatter while with his kit.

    Phantom insisted on washing up as Copia was the one to cook, and they had done this dance too many times to try and fight again his little Quint’s determination.

    Copia went to sit on the sofa to scroll through the movie choices. “What do you want to watch? We have the, ehh… new Nosferatu?”

    “I already watched that today.” Phantom smiled.

    “Okay, but that is not an answer, pipistrello.” Copia chuckled, knowing that was just Phantom sharing part of their day, not saying they didn’t want to watch it again.

    They laughed as they dried their hands and snuggled into their Papa’s arms, bringing their bat plushie under their chin and blanket over them both. “I wanna watch it again.”

    Copia’s finger was already over the play button as he smiled and held his kit in his arms, one of their hands on their plushie and the other kneading against their Papa's tummy.

    Phantom’s day must have took more of a toll than they realised because not even half-way through, as Copia was going to get up for snacks, he realised that his kit had fallen asleep on his chest, lulled by his heartbeat and breathing.

    “Ah, cara. You are so cute like this.” He whispered as he gathered them into his arms and carried them to his bed that the Ghouls had long turned into a nest for how many nights at least one of them is with him.

    After gently setting them down in the nest, he climbed in next to them and brought them into his arms once more, placing the blanket over them both and the duvet on top to help stave the chill of the old stone walls.

    With the plushie still under their chin and even unconsciously knowing they were with their Papa, Phantom slept blissfully and peacefully. And neither human nor Ghoul woke up once or saw any of the nightmares that often plagued them.

    They always knew that the other’s arms would be their home, no matter what.

[cumulussghoullletteloverr]

You guys gotta hear me out.. siren mist ghoulette

Her teeth would be shark like

Instead of the usual fins on the arms legs and neck like the other water ghouls she has a fin on her back

Her ears wouldnt have any extra fish like skin on them if that makes sense. They'd be very human looking

She had very elegant hands, her scales starting at the base of her arms all the way down where you'll find extra skin like the picture below. She has claws but she clips then down a lot

Very shark like tail. Starts on her lower back and the scales are very shiny

Her eyes would be black like the other ghouls but would have very thin pupils

Blond hair with blue streaks and I will die on this hill

And finally horns. They turn more turquoise at the tips but this is the idea of the shape

I will be doing this with the other ghoulettes and I'll probably draw them!!!

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 65)

It was Uzi's birthday today.

Today she turned 19, her and N were now officially the same age… at least until his own birthday in a couple months, where they would once again be a year apart.

She was… also beginning to show, not a lot, but what used to be uniform, flat rubber was now slightly distended, curving outwards ever so slightly, though still able to be hidden under her hoodie.

Though, she needed to make that announcement, though she was dreading it, how her father might react to her pregnancy. Or how… anyone would react, Thad probably wouldn't care, he'd be as chill about is as ever, but V also worried her slightly.

She was upset when they'd adopted Tera, bringing a child into their complicated lives and solver bullshit, something that had indeed brought the child into danger several times. She'd probably flip her lid to find out that another was well on it's way.

It would soon be impossible to hide however, and announcing it now was better then letting it ride any longer.

At this very moment though, she was looking into the mirror present in the bedroom, running a hand down her bare midsection and slightly stretched rubber. Getting ready to go to her Dad's, who'd set up a small party for her and invited everyone.

N was on the bed, his coat over his shoulders but completely open at the front, exposing his white chassis and glowing golden core. He gazed at her, a small exhale leaving his lips.

“If you're worried about how you look, don't, you're beautiful.” He hummed, watching as she looked conflicted into the mirror, eyebrows furrowing and frown etched on her face.

He stood up, crossing the distance between them before wrapping his arms around her from behind, purring like a motorboat while he rested his hand over the one resting on her midsection, letting both hers and and his own run over it.

“We're telling them today. Would it matter if they could?” He asked, right up against her audio input, his tail wrapping around her leg as he nuzzled into the crook of her neck.

“Yes? No? Ugh, I don't know.” She leaned her head back into him before closing her eyes.

In all honesty, she felt lousy. While not as persistent or intense as it was during the first week or two, she still often got sick in the morning, if not outright, then the persistent dizziness often made her wish she did. Not to mention she was constantly forgetting where she put things, or even if she already did a task that day or not.

It was infuriating! Which instead of making her bitter like it normally did, made her cry instead. Like an emotional time-bomb ready to be set off by the slightest inconvenience.

At least she wasn't hungry anymore, that was being by handled by N stopping by the market and picking up what was essentially construction materials and tech components for her to chew on whenever her body needed more material. The best thing so far had been a microprocessor that had bits of silver and gold inside…

“Mmmh” She mumbled as she crossed her arms and looked away from the mirror, but then N's hands were rubbing into her shoulders and she felt herself relax, “tense” would probably be an understatement with how she'd been feeling lately.

“I think you'll feel better after you tell everyone, then you'll have your whole family to support you, instead of just me.” He kissed the side of her head before backing off slightly to button up his coat and try to tame his unruly hair. She turned, pulling on her hoodie as she looked to the ground.

“I'm not sure Dad's going to be stoked to find out a murder drone knocked up his eighteen year old daughter.” She raised a sarcastic eyebrow in his direction and he smiled in return.

“Not just him, Thad, V and Lizzy… to an extent. Will all be there to help you.”

She made another noncommittal noise before putting her beanie on and looking back in the mirror, she… couldn't tell that anything was amiss even when she knew there was, so she sighed in relief.

“I don’t know how much help they're going to be.”

“Trust me?” He replied, standing beside her and cupping her cheek, near forcing her to look at him and away from the mirror. He kissed her visor lovingly, and while this wasn't a new action, a very common one in fact, she blushed and nodded.

When they came out of the bedroom Tera was waiting for them on the couch, chewing into the rubber of her teether while making her little stuffed bat fly around above her with her arm.

“You ready to go?” N hummed picking her up in a single scoop, she squealed and giggled, whole face breaking into a smile as soon as he lifted her up. He was glad that after everything she'd been through she still seemed as happy as ever.

…

At Khan’s house, he was putting the last finishing touches on the decorations and the food for Uzi's birthday party, his little girl was 19 today and boy had a lot happened this year, Uzi had snuck out… led a disassembly drone into the bunker. He'd made the greatest mistake of his life. Then his daughter found a partner with said disassembly drone. Adopted a baby, moved in together.

Crap, Uzi was growing up so fast, it felt like just yesterday he was teaching her the difference between a wrench and an auger, and tucking her in at night.

He shook those thoughts away, today was Uzi's day. Not his, and he wouldn't ruin it by thinking about all the ways he'd messed up.

The decorations were simple, a purple banner along the ceiling that said Happy Birthday, and little plastic bats and spiders were placed everywhere that made sense, and underneath the food on the countertop was a black tablecloth.

Thad was already here, he'd been instrumental in helping Khan set up from the very beginning, as soon as the word party left his lips it was like Thad was an activated sleeper agent, immediately offering to help and set up.

He'd invited both V and Lizzy, but he wasn't sure either of them were coming, he knew Lizzy had a rather strained relationship with his daughter, and that V was much the same, though was essentially all the family N had.

Still, somehow he figured the smaller crowd would be something Uzi preferred anyway instead of throwing something huge or flashy with a bunch of people she didn't know.

There was a knock on the door, and both he and Thad looked at each other before Thad threw himself over the couch to act natural and Khan went to open the door.

“Uzi! N! You're here! Come in, Come in!” Khan smiled brightly, moving out of the way do that the couple and their toddler could move past him. Thad grinned and waved at both of them, getting up off the couch to greet them.

Thad an N did a fist bump, both grinning wildly at the sight of thier buddy. And he gave a tiny wave to Tera, who was already vibrating in excitement at the sight of the green boy in the backwards hat.

When he got to Uzi, they were both surprised when Thad wrapped her in a tight hug, one that made it seem that he'd been worried about her. N was only half-surprised when he didn't feel possessive in response to it, instead he only smiled.

“I've been kinda worried about you, you looked in rough shape last time I saw you, and we've only talked through text.”

He pulled away, leaving Uzi to do the same before rubbing the back of her head and smiling warily. “Sorry, it took a little bit to recover. Then we got busy…”

“No worries! So long as you and N are okay I get it, being parents can't be easy I imagine.”

She smiled, nodding her head.

No, it hadn't been easy, Tera was a good kid, rarely cried or threw tantrums, but that didn't mean it still wasn't difficult. Sometimes she wouldn't be able to sleep and she'd wake them up every hour or two, upset and tired, keeping them up all night. Sometimes Uzi would overfeed her slightly and she'd get sick, or just have a tummyache and fuss and cry in response. Sometimes Tera would demand attention at an inconvenient hour, either when Uzi was working on something… or at 2am.

Even still, it was incredibly rewarding, especially when Tera seemed to be the most loving kid in the world. She wondered if watching her and N be all sappy around her influenced that at all.

“It's not but… I wouldn't change anything.”

“’ad! ‘ad!” Speaking of kids, there was Tera completely butchering Thad's name from N's arms, holding her hands put so that he would carry her around.

“Hey you little football! You want Uncle Thad to carry you?” Tera nodded rapidly, and Thad looked up at N for permission, which he granted immediately by opening his arms and letting Tera pounce into Thad's arms, which took him aback.

“Woah! Someones got springs in thier limbs!” He laughed, and Tera purred as she immediately tried climbing up him, unsuccessfully due to her remaining clumsiness, but she did make a good effort.

“Hey Dad.” She turned to Khan, who had been standing back and letting the two have their time with a friend before he butted in.

“Hey dronelette.” He wrapped her in a hug of which she returned. She was expecting all the physical contact would be grating, but both Thad and her Dad had felt warm and soothing. Not as much as N, but still welcome.

“How have things been? I heard about Doll, glad you're okay.” He pulled back, looking his daughter up and down as he smiled.

“Happy Birthday Uzi, I'm… so proud of you. Your mother would be too, if she were here.” He looked a little sad, but Uzi punched him lightly in the shoulder to snap him put of it.

“Hey this is a party, not a funeral. You should be enjoying yourself.” She commented dryly, a sarcastic lilt to her voice as Khan laughed, shaking the emotions off again.

“You're right. Sorry -uh?”

There was another knock on the door, and Khan excused himself to go answer it. There at the doorway, was V, hand on her hip while the other was a massive claw picking at her fangs, at her side was Lizzy, one hand placed on V's arm, who looked disinterested in everything… aside from V.

“Were here to crash this looser party.”

[terzosboyfriend]

Mountain and Aether in rut in a small female ghoul reader!

Maybe some biting, DP, praise and/or degradation (but i feel like both of them would either use strictly praise or both at the same time but never straight degradation lol), definitely oral, on all fronts, and whatever else you feel like!

Please bare with me, y'all. i have not written xReader in so long.

It's gonna be specifically water ghoul fem reader btw. I'd also like to say the DP will be in separate holes in this one, lmao.

Cws in the ask and knots and squirting

Second POV

Under the cut or on AO3

You weren't entirely positive on what led to you sitting on Aether's bed, both him and Mountain looking at you hungrily. Your tail thumped hard on the bed, having stripped down to only your underwear as demanded by the Earth ghoul. It felt tense, as if neither of them knew where to start.

That was until Aether seemed to make the first move, moving to start frantically kissing and biting your neck. Both he and Mountain were already naked, and it was obvious just how needy they both got when they were in their ruts. You had no idea if you could even handle Aether's rut, let alone his AND Mountain's. Aether's cock was grinding against your leg at that point, and soon enough he was pushing you down onto the bed more properly.

With one swift motion, he's ripped your panties off with a sweet laugh. "You're so pretty like this when you're here just for us." A low growl came from Mountain, an obvious sound of agreement. Your tail thumped harder against the bed, and Aether settled comfortably on the bed. "Seven hells... This is why I love water ghouls Mount.." You didn't even have to look to know just how much slick you'd made.

The quintessence ghoul was quick to move down though, mouth easily finding your cunt to start licking and sucking at. He growled low at your taste, you gasping out in pleasure with a hand finding his hair. "Oh Aeth-" You breathed out, head falling back against the bed as he licked his way through your folds. A wet spot easily formed beneath you from this, slick dripping from your own need.

Unfortunately, the pleasure didn't seem to last long before Aether was pulling away. "Oh give her a taste, she's divine~" Aether breathed out to Mountain. The earth ghoul seemed happy to oblige, quickly moving to kneel onto the bed and get a taste of his own. The pleasure was back, and the way that Mountain worked his tongue was intoxicating, your hands simply gripping the bed sheets instead. "Fuck flower- you taste so good..." Mountain breathed out now, but once again, the pleasures didn't last long. Mountain was backing off and Aether was climbing to settle between your legs properly. "You ready hun?" He asked you, recieving only a small nod in response.

Aether lined his cock up within seconds, before pushing inside of your cunt with another growl. The stretch felt amazing, and when he set a fast pace almost instantly, it was even better. You knew fully well that they'd both be cumming inside of you far more than one time with this, their ruts were always rough, but you offered and you knew you'd enjoy it. Aether's claws dug into your waist, a slight burn from pain due to that, even though it was quickly overlooked from the pleasure that had started shooting through your body. "Oh fuck-" You breathed out with a moan, but it wasn't long before he was forcing himself to slow down because Mountain wanted some fun too. "You gonna be a good girl and take both of us?" Mountain asked as he stroked himself just to keep his pleasure going.

You knew what that meant, and in a moment like this, you were grateful to be a water ghoul. Mountain climbed on the bed as well, motioning for Aether to move. The ghoul pulled himself and you over so you were both on your sides, not pulling out for even a moment. Mountain let out a soft huff as he wrapped an arm around your torso, lining himself up with your rim and then carefully pushing inside. Thankfully you didn't need any prep thanks to your slick, but there was still a slught twinge of pain when you stretched around his cock.

A soft whine had slipped out when the earth ghoul had bottomed out, growling low in your ear before moving to start nipping at your neck. "You take us so well.." He breathed, receiving a noise of agreement from Aether.

It was only a few moments before they both started moving, Aether quickly setting a brutal pace while Mountain set a steady one. The earth ghoul wanted to make sure you could handle worse soon enough. You gasp out moans, being trapped helpless between the two ghouls, hands both holding onto Aether as you got used. You felt so full, and your head spun from the pleasure, but what else were you supposed to do?

It wasn't long before Mountain was picking up his pace now, your tail thrashing before ultimately finding his arm and wrapping tight around it. "A-Aeth- M-ount.." You tried to breathe out, only barely getting them past your moans. Your mind was fuzzy, and it felt like so much, almost too much.

From the way Aether was breathing and how his knot swelled, it was obvious he was getting close to his first orgasm. This is what concerned you though, sure you could take both of their cocks, but both knots? It didn't seem to matter to them, though, Aether fucking into you harder and faster. And then he was forcing his knot inside of you with a loud groan, claws digging deeper into your waist. You cried out in pleasure from the stretch, feeling him spill deep inside of you as his thrusts slowed to a stop for only a moment. Mountain didn't seem that far behind either though, because he was fucking harder and faster, knot threatening to get pushed inside with each thrust. He bit down hard on your neck, and you could feel yourself shaking. You could tell your orgasm was coming fast. "M-Mount please- g-ive it to me!" You cried out, the earth ghoul's pace picking up and his hand quickly finding your clit. He rubbed it fast as his pace started to stagger, and before long, he was growling out and forcing his knot inside as well.

Both of the knots stretching and filling you seemed to be what pushed you over the edge, cumming hard around both of their cocks, slick gushing out and soaking both of their cocks. You were filled with both of their seeds, the two ghouls groaning with pleasure at the sensation.

The three of you stayed like that for Satan knows how long, but then Aether was pulling his knot back out and setting his pace again. You were going to be there for a while.

[beegone-yeet]

My Matthew Hallard's red bows symbolism

Why he's red mixed in from this repost of mine. Some of this will make more sense once I'm finished with my art project of making an art display of my Matthew hcs combined with info. Just working on scripts prior before delving into it. I have a headache starting, and I don't wanna go on more rn

Sharing, gifts, unity, community, and family

Matthew's a middle child. Has an older brother and little sister. He's got long enough hair, where he's constantly brushing it out of his face, and his sister notices and gives him her bows.

Same reasons as the previous statement.

In the past, he took up babysitting as a side gig because he found out how good he was with younger children. They'd wanna be around him instead of their parents whenever he's available, usually and too much so. He listens to them when no one else will. Maybe pressured into it by his parents wanting him to have more senses of responsibility and for his “future family” they expected of him

Femininity, identity, hair individuality

It's the 90's and he's gonna get crap for it. Based on the negatives. He's a dream child yet everyone wants more from him and for him to get rid of his identity to fit their standards and expectations despite Matthew already being a DREAM child. Longer hair was like rebellion but more so individuality in Matthew's case, and people apparently hate it when someone's different.

Support, community, more than what meets the eye, identity and awareness are semi present in this

When he's 1332-C, Matthew was made to cut his hair before pictures (currently drawing this for an art display of hcs). Kinda like making him lose a sense of identity. The reasoning varies between person, being "It'll get in the way during Doey transformation surgery", "Makes him look not put together", and Sawyer being an asshole by pressuring Matthew to follow through, for the tee-hees, no excuses or lying, just telling him to do it then they'll move on to picture taking, and his tone getting more serious.

The reason Matthew followed through, no questions asked, is thinking he's being dramatic all over hair. It's important to do so. What if there's invisible consequences if I don't. The guilt of refusing and not following his status quo (dream child). It's important for the adults to see he's not one to complain about anything, that's also something they liked about him. Maybe his adoptive parents wanted this?

He's unaware of what gonna happen to him and thinks that after the checkups are done, he'd be sent with his adoptive parents "home" and deal with his emotions later on

He lost his bow but it's semi-added by him in his Doey conscience form because he's still holding onto that sense of identity, community of Safe Haven, and connections he's had

Red tail bow on horses warning they may kick, not mentioned semi horse symbolism:

Matthew's Doey conscience whenever withdrawing, angry, needs a breath, his bow turns into those horse tail bows to warn “don't come near me rn, or I may lash out”. I guess a past thing Matthew had was whenever he needs a break and would tell people to leave him be, much like idiots who go up to horses in those types of videos (queen's guards), people still won't leave him be and continue on.

Past (How he got orphaned)

Drunk Driving Prevention (ribbon)

While on a night drive with his remaining family to drop off grandma and her dog, a drunk driver who'd been speeding crashes into them, resulting in a severe car accident (car went tumbling). Matthew lived because his seating placement (in middle, middle child, legs of Doey being between arms/other colors) gave him less injuries. He saw his legs “bathed in red”. Couldn't move his legs, from injuries, frozen response.

Grandma was added because I heard that people drive their elderly family members since they shouldn't be driving, and gives them a reason why they were driving at night. The dog was also added for their symbolism– such as guide dogs– and how Matthew viewed he had “broken” said symbolized stuff, both the dog's and previously mentioned symbolism

During his freeze response, Kevin would be active since he's the protector of Safe Haven and Matthew wouldn't be in the right state because of his response and lack of strength from lasting Chronic Pain Syndrome from the car accident. Permanent because he was still recovering prior to Project Doey, and their bodies sorta stay the same in their conscience. Jack doesn't front much because of being half-blind, part deaf and having severe burns (which is why it hurts so much when he got freezed) when he was saved. The tour guide Brendon said that they turned the machines off in time which implies they saved Jack in time but was gonna die, so like Theodore, ?Marie, and Thomas Clarke, they turned him into a toy to save him and avoid another lawsuit. Maybe Jack was gonna live but didn't want a lawsuit so they disposed of all the Ayers family

I think that's enough ranting. Yet again, headache