#well. except for needing continuously more territory

[vonkarma2]

i miss worldbuilding sm. its nice to be able to retcon part of it and just make shit up + like. go into the implications of things you set up before idk :] it’s fun to see the causes and effects like problems theyd cause that different factions would have to deal with

[kaijutegu]

Aug ABSOLUTELY deserves the praise, @ryukikit. St. Augustine Alligator Farm is one of my favorite animal facilities, hands down. It's a pretty zoo, doable in an afternoon if you kinda like crocodilians, or an all day affair if you REALLY like crocodilians. Here are my favorite things about it and why I think it's worth supporting.

1. They keep animals in interesting social groups.

Crocodilians are heavily involved parents, but most places that breed them don't have the enclosure space to let the babies stay with the parents. St. Augustine does. One of my favorite groups was their crèche of slender-snouted crocodiles. They had the parents and then a yearling cohort and a new hatchling cohort. This aligns with how these guys live in the wild- the babies stick around longer! They have the space for it, and they are very in tune with the social needs of their animals.

Very, very few zoos can keep their baby crocs with the adults and still perform maintenance and animal health checks safely. This doesn't mean these facilities are bad- it just means that they have different management practices. And frankly, a lot of these species aren't frequently bred elsewhere. Your average zoo doesn't need a setup where you can have a multiyear crèche for slender-snouted crocodiles. Some species have better success when the young are pulled early, and some zoos are better set up to raise out any offspring separately or behind the scenes. Every facility's practices are different, and this just happens to work well at St. Augustine and be really enjoyable to see as a zoo patron.

Crocodilians are exceptional parents and very protective. It's a sign of incredible animal management practices and animals that feel very comfortable with staff that St. Augustine can do this with nearly every species they breed.

2. They understand the social needs of their animals.

Some crocodilians are social. Some are solitary. Some can live happily with a member of the opposite sex but get territorial around members of the same sex. St. Augustine pays incredible attention to their social groupings to ensure that they aren't just meeting the animals' physical health needs but their social needs as well. They do continuous scientific research about social structures in crocodilians, taking blood samples to test stress hormones and observing stress behaviors to see how group dynamics change.

For example, St. Augustine is home to one of the world's largest known living saltwater crocodiles, Maximo. And his comparatively tiny mate, Sydney. During the educational presentations with these two, they point out that even their monster of a croc needs his social group- he won't eat if she's not around and he is calmer during medical checks if he can see her. These animal share a deep and special pair bond, and they make sure to talk about how the social aspect of these animals' lives is integral to their care. It's a unique aspect of the way they talk about these animals, because he IS a spectacle and he IS a sensation, but they don't talk about him like he's a mindless killing machine- they talk about him like he's a big, complex predator with social needs like any other animal. Aug is the only facility I've been to where the emotional and social needs of crocodilians is part of the education they provide guests- and speaking of education...

3. Their demos and presentations are extremely good.

The presentations at St. Augustine are some of the best I've ever seen, and I've seen literally hundreds of animal talks on everything from aardvarks to zebras. But as you... can probably tell from my blog content, I've spent a lot of time learning about and working with reptiles. I really enjoyed all of their presentations because they are very scientific about things and avoid sensationalism. They really want you to be fascinated by these creatures and love them- but more than anything else, they want you to respect them.

Also, they do a really good job handling their ambassadors. I really enjoyed something as simple as watching an educator tell us about snakes. Throughout the whole presentation she made sure that most of the snake's body was looped in her hand. The snake was always supported and was very calm. She gave the snake plenty of head room so that it didn't feel constricted- it was just good handling all around.

But also, the presentations made it clear how much the park cares about the animals' well-being. When they do the feeding and training presentations, they make it very clear that the animals' participation is entirely voluntary. They do things differently for their 9-foot saltie and their 16-foot saltie, because the 16-footer is so large and heavy he actually struggles walking on land sometimes. They adapt their programs and his care to ensure that he's completely comfortable- and he didn't actually participate in the whole feeding when I was watching! At no point did they try to push him into anything uncomfortable; they offered, he didn't engage, and they moved on. It was a clear expression of his boundaries, and I really appreciated how much his caretakers respected that.

4. Ethical Interactions

I've been to... a lot of tourist locations in Florida that have animals you can hold. Almost always against my will! Many of them are pretty terrible, and you don't actually learn much, if anything. But I really found that to not be the case at St. Augustine. Every single animal presentation and interaction opportunity was accompanied by education about the animal's biology, habits, and- crucially- their conservation status.

When I held a baby alligator at St. Augustine, the proctors- there were two, one to ensure I was holding the gator correctly and the other to educate- were very informative about the role alligators play in their ecosystem and their conservation history. The animals were all properly banded, and one of the two proctors was there to ensure that none of the baby alligators were uncomfortable. As soon as they started getting squirmy or tense, they were removed, unbanded, and taken to an off-exhibit area to relax. And when the babies age out of petting size, they just go in the lagoon to live with others of their species. I saw one upset alligator the entire time I was there, and he was clearly upset that his escape attempt was foiled by a keeper during my nursery tour.

Even though he's restrained in this shot, you can see that his full body and tail are supported, and the grip, while firm, is gentle. He's distressed, but after I took this picture, she put him in his enclosure and he calmed down immediately.

Sometimes when you have petting attractions with baby animals, those animals... don't have a happy ending. (See: cub petting.) But St. Augustine's program is fine- the gators are all aged out of wanting to have mom around, there's no declawing/defanging, and they're handled with care. And it's worth it, because people love what they understand. St. Augustine was integral in raising public awareness about alligators back in the 60s when they were endangered, and now they're thriving- largely in part to programs like St. Augustine getting people to care.

And speaking of getting people to care, let's talk about their research.

5. Shared Research Results

St. Augustine is also home to more species of crocodilian than anywhere else in North America- all of them, usually. (They didn't have a Tomistoma when I visited- that may have changed.)

Because of this species diversity, it's an incredible research resource. Having every species means that you can do a lot of work comparing their behaviors, their growth patterns, and more. They've been a major research site for crocodilian biology since the 1970s. Today, they're one of the key sites for studying crocodilian play and social behaviors. They actually maintain a blog where they post copies of papers that were written using their animals, meaning that you can actually see the results of the research your admission helps fund. You can see that right here: https://www.alligatorfarm.com/conservation-research/research-blog/

All of this adds up to a zoo that provides a unique experience, tons of actual education, and transparency about what its research and conservation steps actually are. St. Augustine's come a long way since its opening in 1893, and they really do want you to leave with a new respect for the animals they care for. Ultimately, if you're a fan of reptiles, you can feel good about visiting the St. Augustine Alligator Farm- their care and keeping are top of the line, they do a ton of innovative conservation research and support for conservation organizations, and you can see this animal there:

(Gharial from the front. Nothing is wrong with her that's just what they look like from the front.)

[totally-here]

3 times Phantom's Guardian was Mentioned + 1 Time He Showed Up

One

Phantom’s introduction to Young Justice wasn’t as dramatic as Empress’ or Slobo’s, or even Arrowette’s first introduction to the cave. No, it wasn’t during the Olympics, or on a battlefield, and he didn’t come in injured and looking for help. 

Impulse just brought Phantom in one day and insisted that he should join because he’s their age, interested in justice, and now that Greta’s human again they need another ghost member. So Phantom stayed, popping in and out for missions but never really sticking around all that long. 

Today is one of the days that Phantom’s with them on a mission, that being looking around a lab of the Brain’s that had an energy surge recently, despite it being presumably abandoned. 

Kon got paired up with Phantom to check the rest out first, since they both have better hearing than Anita and Tim, who were both still in the main room working on checking the computers for previous activity. 

The room is dark except for the light green ball glowing slightly above Phantom’s hand. He waves it around enough for it to reflect off of glass, then throws it up to the ceiling. The light expands enough to illuminate the room. 

Phantom mumbles about not knowing he could do that. Kon ignores him and moves closer to inspect the glass tubes to the side of several monitors set up. 

“Looks like cloning equipment,” Phantom says, casually. He drags a finger through the dust gathering on one of the monitors. “Don’t think they’ve been activated recently, though, so that’s good.”

“What? You got a problem with clones or something?” It’s a quick and defensive answer, and Phantom puts his hands up in surrender. 

“Not in concept.” He shrugs and joins Kon near the tubes. “But not a lot of people ask before making clones.”

“So I don’t need to sic Superman on you?” Obviously Kon could chew Phantom out himself, but few can do a “not mad, just disappointed” face better than Clark. 

Phantom scrunches his face. “Why would you need to?” 

Kon stops pretending to inspect the tube and stares at Phantom. “You do know I’m a clone, right?” The blank look on Phantom’s face tells him that no, he did not. “Well I am. Clone of Superman, though we’re pretty much brothers now.”

“Cool,” Phantom says, not a bit less friendly. He hesitates for a second before continuing, “Could I maybe ask you how you got there? Me and my clone have landed on cousins, but that was also, like, given to us by her evil dad. So.”

Phantom trails off. Huh, that makes three members of the team that have been cloned. Not a lot, but it’s weird that it’s happened three times. 

“You’re making sure she feels accepted, right?” 

“Yeah! Well, whenever she’s around. She,” Phantom waves his hand around, looking for the right word, “She’s a wanderer. Exploring the world and stuff. But Richard has a room for her at home, and I remind her of that whenever she does stop by.” 

“Well, first of all, don’t push it so hard,” Kon says. Phantom nods enthusiastically. “And second, who’s Richard?”

Kon doesn’t know a lot of Richards, and he doesn’t think that Phantom ever mentioned one before. Or even if he remembers his living life. 

“Oh, he’s my, uh, guardian? I guess that’s the best term. The guy I’m living with who forces me to go to school sometimes.” Phantom looks away and back to the tubes. 

Before Kon can ask for more details, Robin and Empress come in with a report of dead computers and wanting to know where they’re at with the cloning room.

They’re unimpressed with their lack of progress.

Two

Wally doesn’t really need to come by the Hamilton Lodge that often, not when that’s Young Justice’s territory and he doesn’t want to get involved in all of That.

But Red Tornado said that the team has a file on a planet that’s very quickly becoming a league problem, and he figured it might be a good time to try to check in with Bart, anyway. Make sure he hasn’t run any cars off cliffs again and all that. 

So he stops by Manchester to ask Bart about the file, then they both head East to actually find it. 

When they arrive at the hotel minutes later, Wally’s surprised to actually find it… clean? There’s no visible trash or overturned furniture or anything else he’d expect from an abandoned hotel filled with teenagers. Well, maybe not filled, lately. He doesn’t think anyone’s living here currently, with Greta at Elias’ for the school year and Slobo gone. 

Still, the room smells slightly of artificial pine scent, and Bart perks up before disappearing and reappearing rapidly, holding a teammate up by his armpits. Said teammate just accepts this, his legs folding into a wispy tail, and head rolling against his shoulders. 

“This is Phantom!” Bart holds him up higher. Phantom waves. Wally’s only heard of him through Max’s updates, the same way he would hear about Preston or Carol, but with more wariness about the supposed ghost. 

Actually looking at the pale face and glowing green eyes contrasting against the darker than dark jumpsuit, Wally’s a little more ready to accept his claim at being undead. 

“He stress cleans,” Bart explains, moving to carry Phantom under his arm. Wally bites down the urge to tell him to put him down, but only because Phantom doesn’t resist the hold, only moving to get into a more comfortable position. His hands are touching the floor. “So what happened?” 

Bart directs the question downwards, and Phantom heaves a very dramatic sigh. Definitely a teenager. It does raise the question of who exactly this kid’s mentor is. Hopefully he does have one. Maybe he’s the Spectre’s kid?

Phantom phases through the arm holding him only to lay on top of Bart’s hair. “I accidentally called Richard dad. And then fled.” 

Bart nods sagely. “Classic. One time I accidentally called Max dad, so I had to start a fire to distract him.”

Phantom sighs again, almost dreamily. “Genius.” 

Wally doesn’t have time to unpack all of that. Well he does, but he’s not going to, because there’s really only one Richard that comes to mind that might have the heart to take in a dead kid, even if he doesn’t go by his full name.

But surely Dick would have told him, or any other Titan, if he had adopted a kid. Right?

But there’s still a little shadow of doubt. Maybe Dick wanted it to be a secret, or it was really new or had a rocky start. Phantom doesn’t seem to hold himself like a Bat, but it’s not a guarantee Dick would have trained him. 

“The lodge looks nice,” Wally offers out loud, which Phantom shrugs at and wraps his tail around Bart’s head to keep secure. “Anyway, Impulse. The file on Myrg?” 

“Oh yeah!” Again, Bart disappears then reappears a few seconds later with a paper file. They really need to start digitizing more of these things. “That’s the planet where we played baseball so that they wouldn’t destroy Earth!” 

“You what.” 

The prospect of Dick following in his dad’s footsteps is forgotten in the face of what the hell Young Justice got up to on Myrg. 

Three

Tim may be in a…Predicament. 

It’s not his fault. Really. He knew what he was doing. He couldn’t let a civilian fall for the trap. But they were already so close, so he just, kinda, pushed himself into the rope instead. 

So there Robin is, tied upside down in a warehouse, with the Joker below next to an overly complicated control panel. The clown’s rambling about bombs hidden all over the city that Tim knows Batman is already tracking down with Batgirl. 

Tim’s not really paying attention to the rant because of that, more focused on wiggling enough to get the spare mini-birdarang out of his glove to cut the rope without notifying the Joker. 

“Yikes, bad time?” Asks Phantom’s voice beside him. Based on the source and accounting for the slight echo, he’s floating with his head near Tim’s, likely upside down. “Want some help?” 

Tim gets the birdarang out and starts sawing at the thick rope. They should be fine anyway, but stalling the Joker for extra time would be helpful. “Can you possess the Joker? Just hold him still.”

“The correct term is overshadow, but sure.” The voice disappears, and a few seconds later the Joker freezes. 

His body jerks forward, then backward, and a laugh chokes out of his throat. His hand claws over his mouth at the noise and he hunches over. All movement halts before he rights himself, shaking out his hands and rolling his shoulders. Phantom looks up at Tim and his eyes are glowing. 

Tim cuts through the rope, kicking and using the momentum to right himself and land on his feet. He brushes past Phantom in Joker’s body to handle the control panel. He turns off the radio broadcast and dismantles the bomb strapped to the panel.

Threat handled, he turns to Phantom and holds up some handcuffs. “Let me arrest you?”

Phantom obliges, turning the Joker’s body around and putting his hands behind his back. Tim lets him walk by himself out of the warehouse and moves the handcuffs around a lamppost. The Joker’s body jerks again, then slumps forward, just as Phantom reappears next to him, scowling down at the unconscious body. 

“That felt really slimy. Zero out of ten, would not do again,” Phantom grouches. 

“Why’re you in Gotham?” Tim asks. It’s not like Phantom makes a habit of visiting. The last time he came into the city, he complained about feeling the dead under the streets. Fortunately, that let Tim uncover a few tunnels that Talons travel through. Phantom, however, was unnerved by the Talons and left quickly. 

“Oh, Solomon Grundy’s back in our sewers. Richard said I should probably tell one of you Gotham heroes, since you keep track of those guys.” He shakes out his hands like they were cramped in the Joker. 

They hadn’t seen Grundy in a while. Tim assumed he was currently in a less violent personality. “What’s he doing?” 

Phantom shrugs. “Just chilling. Mostly underground. I tried to talk to him but he only grunted back at me. He also tried to pick me up, dunno what that was about.”

“Maybe because you’re both dead?” Tim guessed. That would be a surface level connection. Ivy and Woodrue have had more luck working with Grundy than anyone, and Phantom definitely doesn’t have the connection to the Green that’d help with that. 

Police lights turn around the corner, and Tim shoots a grapple to get to the roof above them. Phantom follows, but disappears as soon as they’re on the roof. Going back home, probably. 

Cass drops down from the roof she was listening on. “Richard?”

“Not the same one.”

They both stick around long enough to watch the Joker get put into the cop car. 

Plus one

A spaceship landed in the forests of New York, and Cassie’s team was the first to respond to it. Technically not respond, but check it out, since there wasn’t any alert or anything. 

Still, Wonder Girl has Empress, Robin, and Superboy on the other side of the ship, watching what looks like the back door, while she, Impulse, and Phantom watch the other door and main window. She has binoculars, but the windows are so tinted she can’t quite make anything out. 

No aliens have come out yet, and she hesitates to have anyone go in, in case whoever inside does turn hostile. 

Impulse has offered to run through a total of five times already, and it’s a testament to his restraint that he hasn’t, and a testament to Cassie’s that she hasn’t yelled at him yet. Phantom at least isn’t being annoying, but he’s not necessarily helpful, either. He’s not even watching the spaceship anymore. Now he’s trying to make a flower crown out of dandelions. 

“Door’s opening on our side,” Robin says from the comms. “But no one’s coming out.” 

“Alright, good enough to try to get in,” Cassie decides. She turns to Phantom, who’s closing off the circle of flowers. Beside him, Impulse has since pulled out a gameboy. “Phantom, go in invisibly through the open door and report back. Try to see what their plans are.” 

“Oh, sure. One second.” Phantom finishes the crown and tries to put it on Bart’s head. It doesn’t quite fit over his mane of hair, but Phantom shrugs and leaves it sitting there anyway before going invisible. 

“Maybe I should shave my head again,” Bart says as his game character dies. 

He gets a resounding no in response. 

Half an hour later they have a very annoyed Green Lantern lecturing them about league jurisdiction and knowing when to call someone else. 

Apparently, the alien ship was just stopping to complete some maintenance, and did not appreciate any spying on them, and especially did not appreciate who did it. Green Lantern was more than happy to explain that Wonder Girl’s team is not really a part of the Justice League and he can help with their maintenance. They denied his help and left to find a place with less people in it. 

“-and you!” Green Lantern rounds on Phantom next, but Cassie knows none of them are really listening. Sure, they messed up by freaking out the visiting aliens, and yeah maybe they should have contacted the league about it, but they’ve dealt with stuff worse than this! It’s not Cassie’s fault she thought that this would have stuck to the formula. 

“Who even are you?” Green Lantern runs a hand through his black hair, stupid green gauntlets shining in the sunlight. “Do I need to call your mentor?” He frowns. “Or do they know you mess up alien technology by just being around it?” 

Phantom scoffs and rolls his eyes. “How was I supposed to know their tech would go all fuzzy when I came in?” 

“You wouldn’t have to know if you just stayed out of the spaceship!” 

“Hey!” Cassie cuts in. “Technically that was my call. It’s not all on Phantom.”

“I still could've been more careful,” Phantom says to her, ignoring Green Lantern as they argue about blame. 

“Cut it out for a second, okay?” Green Lantern puts a hand between them and they stop to glare at him. He pulls the hand back. “Look, can I just talk to one of your adults about this?” 

Robin glares. “We don’t need an adult. We have this under control.”

“Only because I’m here now.” 

“I’ll call my mentor,” Phantom says. Kon opens his mouth, most likely to offer to call Superman instead in hopes of a lighter sentence, but Bart covers his mouth, smiling like he knows something Cassie doesn’t. Tim and Anita share a look, and don’t intervene as Phantom pulls out a phone from his chest. 

It rings once before it’s picked up. Cassie can’t hear the other side of the conversation, but Kon’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “Hey, do you think you can pick me up? Green Lantern wants to talk to you.” Phantom looks Green Lantern up and down then says, “No, this one doesn’t have a cape.”

Phantom says goodbye after rattling off their coordinates, hangs up, and stares at Green Lantern in silence for a few seconds. 

And then a swirling mass of black seeps into the space next to Phantom. The end of a cane steps out of it, followed by a leg, then the rest of the immaculately dressed man holding the handle of the cane that’s shaped like a bird’s head. 

“Phantom,” The man says. His voice drips with condescension in only a way a british accent can, yet Phantom smiles up at him. The shadowy portal behind him disappears. “What, exactly, happened?”

“That’s the fucking Shade,” Anita hisses to Robin, who shrugs noncommittedly at her. Green Lantern seems to recognise him too, taking a step back and clenching his hand that holds his ring. 

“Well, the team and I were staking out this spaceship–super cool, by the way–and I went inside to check it out, but my presence messed with their tech–which was an accident–and they freaked out, so I freaked out, and then we kinda got into a little fight until Green Lantern came to mediate.”

“Hm. Is that right?” The Shade asks Green Lantern, who nods slowly, still anticipating an attack. “It seems like the problem’s fixed, then.”

“Well, yes, but–”

“And it does seem about time for these kids to get home, doesn't it?” The Shade pulls out an actual pocket watch, chain and all, from his suit pocket and takes his time in checking it. “I’ll see them home.” 

Shadows grow from behind the team, swirling until they become a giant, gaping maw that swallows them up and spits them out in a different forest, or maybe just a different part of the same forest. 

Either way, Cassie has to take a moment to make sure she doesn’t throw up from the sudden vertigo the shadow portal caused. 

The Shade looks at Phantom, and raises an eyebrow. “You can’t expect me to always bail you out.” 

Phantom shrugs, looking guilty. “I know. Thanks, Richard.”

Oh, so that’s who Richard is. Annoyingly, neither Tim or Bart look surprised by this revelation.

[these-lovely-monsters]

The Vampire's Kiss

[NSFW | 18+]

Characters: m!vampire x f!reader

Content: stalking, blood, blood drinking, fingering, biting, marking, bite marks, possessiveness, yandere

#1 Marking the territory and #27 Bloodthirst from @ozzgin's Monstertober 2024 prompt list

⋆ ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ⋆

You didn’t know it, but this morning while you were working at the quaint little coffee shop, there was a man sitting at one of the tables nearby. He was reading a newspaper while sipping on an espresso you made him. When you cut your hand on one of the sharp corners of the counter, a little bit of blood welled up in the wound.

The scent of it immediately caught his attention and the rest of the shop faded away as he zeroed in on the pulse beating steadily at your throat. It was an intoxicating aroma to him and he’d never smelled anything so decadent before. He was desperate for a taste. For the rest of the day, he was unable to think about anything else but you as he followed you around, lurking in the shadows. 

Now, late at night, as you walk home to your apartment building, you swear you keep hearing footsteps echoing behind you. But whenever you turn around to look, there’s nothing there except the empty sidewalk. Growing nervous, you begin to quicken your steps, just needing to get out of the darkness creeping in around you.

Just as you reach your apartment building, you shriek as you’re suddenly lifted off your feet and whisked into the alley beside it. Your heart is pounding out of your chest as your back is pressed up against the wall. A cold, hard body pins you to the bricks. 

Looking up into your assailant’s face, cool gray eyes meet yours. He’s devastatingly beautiful with sharp angles and a pale complexion. For a moment, you can’t do anything but stare, mesmerized by him. He gives you a lopsided smirk and you catch sight of a fang peeking out. A vampire.

The notion should scare you but the hunger in his eyes causes your blood to heat in desire. You’ve read so many vampire romance books and now you desperately want to know what it would be like to have one feed from you. When he sees the lust fill your expression, his grin grows wider, revealing the other fang. You watch as his pupils dilate, a barely disguised monster lurking under the surface.

He inhales deeply and drawls, “Do you know how utterly delectable you smell?” Just the sound of that sinful timbre is enough to make you shudder in pleasure. “Will you let me have a taste?”

Not caring how dangerous it might be, a barely audible, “Yes,” slips from your lips on a soft whimper.

He doesn’t hesitate and claims your mouth in a bruising kiss, nipping and sucking at your lips. When you plunge your tongue into his mouth, he groans into yours and the sound travels right to your core.

As your tongue tangles with his, there's a sudden pinch on the tip. You pull back with a gasp, the taste of copper filling your mouth. When he grins at you, blood smeared along one of his fangs, you bite your lip at the erotic image. Tilting your head in invitation, you bare your neck to him.

“Good girl,” he murmurs before shifting your hair to the side and sinking his teeth into the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. You throw your head back against the wall as your hands fly up to grip his hair tightly.

You groan in ecstasy at the feeling of him sucking, drawing in deep mouthfuls of blood. It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before and an aching, desperate need begins to build in your core. Your head swims with the intoxicating arousal as wetness pools between your legs and drips down your thighs.

He releases your shoulder and you almost cry out at the loss. But then he moves to the other side, biting you again. He continues to bite and suck all along your neck, ripping open the front of your blouse to pepper the swells of your breasts with even more. With each bite, he lets out long, needy groans as he grinds his hard cock against your stomach.

While his fangs are buried deep in your flesh, he reaches down and flips up your skirt, tearing your panties off with one hard yank. You gasp as you watch him stuff the stolen garment in his pocket. Before you can protest, he’s shoving two fingers deep inside your pussy and all thoughts fly from your head. As he pumps his fingers in and out of you, he swirls his thumb around your clit, causing your back to arch off the wall.

Between his fingers fucking into you and his mouth and fangs on your skin, it doesn’t take long for a toe-curling orgasm to crash into you. It feels like it goes on forever as he draws it out, not stopping until you’re squirming away from the over sensitization.

Chuckling, he releases you and withdraws his fingers from your pussy. When he pulls back, the streetlamp on the corner casts a yellow glow across his face. The crimson blood smeared across his lips almost sparkles in the light. Lifting his fingers, which are glistening with your arousal, he runs them along his lips, mixing the blood with your juices before licking them clean.

“So fucking delicious,” he growls. The words send a shiver down your spine and you’re instantly aroused again, the heady experience of his feeding still swirling around you. Needing more, you let out a sound that’s somewhere between a whimper and a moan, unable to form the words to ask.

As if understanding exactly what you need, he lifts you up into his arms. Wrapping your legs around his waist, he walks you to the front door of your building and sets you down on your feet. You reach into your purse to pull out your keys and wince, forgetting the cut from this morning.

He grabs your hand, flipping it palm up and undoes the bandages gently, almost reverently. Lowering his mouth to the wound, he softly laps at it with his tongue. You watch in awe as your skin tingles and begins to knit back together. Within seconds, the cut is completely gone, smooth unmarred skin now in its place.

You look up at him and run a finger along his bloody lips, whispering a soft, “Thank you,” at his surprisingly kind gesture.

When you turn to face the glass entrance, you gasp at the sight of yourself. Your hair is a mess, your blouse is hanging open at the front, and bite marks cover your neck and chest in a bloody patchwork.

Tracing the marks on your skin, you meet his gaze in the reflection of the door. “Why didn’t you heal these?”

“Because you are mine now, sweetheart, and I want everyone to know it. Now, won’t you let me in?”

Tip Jar :)

[0310s]

best friend, experienced fwb! leehan x virgin, inexperienced! reader

(continuation of preview one)

warnings: nsfw talk, no explicit scenes

wc: 1.5k

a/n: preview two is here! the smut will be reserved for the actual fic <3 let me know your thoughts so far!!

𓉞⋆｡˚☁︎｡⋆

You’re both seated across your plush floor carpet, your backs leaning against the side of your bed. “So…” you gulp nervously, looking anywhere except for Leehan, whose eyes you can feel are trained on you. You concentrate your attention straight ahead on your shelf—specifically, the fluffy alien plushie your best friend gifted you on your birthday. You've named the lil guy Leehan in your head, although you've sworn yourself to secrecy (and utter embarrassment if the real Leehan were to find out). Leehan (the plushie) has been there during your worst breakdowns and has served as a source of comfort whenever you're stressed. “Where do we start?” You’re rapidly losing the feigned confidence you mustered minutes before Leehan came in.

“Well, you could start by looking at me,” Leehan lets out a small laugh. “And maybe moving closer to me… don’t you think you’re a little too far away?” You then notice the awkward distance between the both of you, practically enough to squeeze in two more people, so you scoot over, leaving a bit of space between you. Definitely farther than usual—you’re both usually comfortably pressed up against each other on most days. Although that ease of physical contact was platonic in nature; you’re not so sure about now. You then find the courage to turn and face him.

Leehan’s eyes curve into relieved crescents. He’s got his chin propped up on his hand as he tilts his head to look at you. “Hi.” He smells comforting, his perfume woody and pleasant. A cuddle session with him would honestly fix you… wait, stop that, brain! These thoughts of yours need to stop; they’re veering towards very dangerous territory.

“Hi.” Your throat is dry and your voice comes out scratchy. You clear your throat in embarrassment, trying again. “Hi, Leehan.” 

Leehan lets out a huff at your awkwardness, still faintly smiling. “How are you? You still up for this?”

Collecting your thoughts, you remain silent for a while. “Honestly? Nervous.” At Leehan’s encouraging nod, you open up. “Okay, well. I’m scared. I’ve never done this before. And I’m also just really self-conscious. I’m already overthinking now, who knows how much more of that I’ll be doing when we… you know…” Your face burns. “I also don’t find myself particularly attractive, you know? I’m just plain old me. Sure, maybe at the very most, I’m cute. But not enough for people to stop and think, wow, they’re really pretty, I have a crush on them. And I’ve never been on the receiving end of sexual or romantic attention. So I… sorry, Leehan, I don’t know where I’m going with this,” you trail off, but Leehan places a warm hand atop your own, which you’re gripping your thigh with.

“Listen,” Leehan begins, “I think everyone experiences a certain amount of self-consciousness when they have sex. After all, they’re allowing themselves to be vulnerable in front of someone else, which is a challenge even outside a sexual context. For me at least, it’s worth experiencing that self-consciousness first to be able to experience that intimacy and connection with your partner.” You nod pensively at what he’s saying. “And I think you’re really understating yourself. If you’ve only known how many guys and girls have asked me if you were single…”

You pause at that information. “Wait, seriously? You’ve never told me about this! I don’t know, maybe you were mistaken…”

“Come on, when have I ever lied to you about anything?” Leehan counters. “I didn’t say anything because I never assumed you were interested in anything romantic back then. You never seemed interested in anyone else, and you never told me anything. So I assume you didn’t really have any crushes…?”

“Well, yeah, I guess,” you shrug. “I found people pretty or handsome, but just from an aesthetic standpoint? It never really got to the point that I wanted to act on it… so not a crush.” Still, a flash of insecurity strikes you. “Okay, I know this is about me, but… are you sure you want to do this? It doesn’t really matter if other people find me attractive…”  If you don’t, you were about to say. You’re unable to finish your sentence because of how… misleading it sounds in your head. “I mean,” you correct yourself, “It would be weird and awkward if I was the only one getting anything out of this. I don’t think you’d be, um, turned on in any way.” You find your gaze fixating on the Leehan (the plushie) once again, unable to make eye contact with your (very real) best friend.

“Don’t worry, I will be. Turned on, that is,” you hear from beside you, and you can’t help but turn. Leehan’s ears are red, and he’s glancing at you almost sheepishly. “I hope you know that… you’re really pretty. Anyone with eyes can see that.” Oh. Um. Okay. Oh… Wow. Hearing that from Leehan himself, who is the embodiment of beauty, makes you positively flustered, but you don’t want to think about why exactly that’s so. 

“I…” You don’t know what to say without sounding stupid. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Leehan echoes. “I mean, is that okay with you? That I think that way?” What way, you want to scream, but you’re terrified of overcomplicating things right now. 

“Um. Yes, I guess… I mean, coming from someone as handsome as you, it’s nice to hear,” you admit. You hoped that was a normal enough response (as normal as it could get in your extremely abnormal situation, anyway). And then you risk another glimpse at Leehan—he’s blushing and trying to hide a shy smile, for the love of God. His dimples are so lovely. Do not overthink this, please, for your own sanity!!!

“So…” you attempt to change the subject, but end up making yourself feel even worse. “You’re right, about the self-consciousness thing. Maybe I need to try it out to know how exactly I feel about… intimate stuff… and see if it’s something I really want. But. I don’t know. Could you tell me if you’re not attracted to me or something when you see my body? Before we actually get into anything?” You sound utterly pathetic, and you duck your head down.

“(Y/n)... look at me,” Leehan urges. A gentle hand on your shoulder turns you towards him, and you’re scared to see what expression he’s making. “You’re already beautiful the way you are, with all your imperfections—not despite. I promise you, there’s nothing about you that would make me think you’re unattractive.” His eyes are kind and his touch a comforting weight. You desperately want to believe him.  

“Okay,” you utter. 

“Okay?” Leehan repeats, and you nod slowly. “We can stop at any time you’re uncomfortable. But we don’t even have to at all, if that’s what you want. Sex isn’t something everyone has to do, and there’s really more to relationships than sex. Do you need more time to think over this? We can just hang out now like we always do,” he says, but you have your answer already.

“Leehan, I want to do this. I’m going to be scared and nervous, but I know I’ll be safe with you. And I want to do this with you. There’s no one else I could trust myself more with.” At that, you lean over and wrap your arms around him. You can tell Leehan is momentarily startled, but he settles into the hug, encircling you with his own arms. His palms against your back are gentle and warm. You take a deep breath, melting into the comfort of his embrace.

After a minute or so, you withdraw from his arms. “So Leehan… what do we do now?”

“What do you want to do? It’s your call,” Leehan whispers. 

“I’m honestly not sure? Could you, I don’t know, suggest something and I’ll let you know if it’s something I want?”

“How about… kissing?” Leehan suggests. “It’s simple but a nice way to start.“

“Oh. Well… Uh… I don’t know how to say this, but…” Your hands grow sweaty. “Uh…”

After a few moments of silence, Leehan’s eyes widen in realization. “You’ve never kissed anyone before?” You can feel your face heating up as you nod. “So technically, I’d be your first?” You nod again, albeit slower this time. Then you feel a sudden, unidentifiable, shift in the air as Leehan softly cradles your cheek with his palm. His eyes are dark with desire, and your breath is stolen from you at the awareness that you have the entirety of his attention focused on you. “Tell me you’re okay with me being your first.” He patiently waits for your answer, eyes locked on you. 

You feel the weight of your need to be as close as possible to him. You can feel your heart beating out of your chest. You want to say yes. Yes to Leehan and everything he wants to give you. “I… Yes. Please, Leehan.”

And then he's kissing you.

[seraphdreams]

DREAMIN' — underground racing miniseries.

“being a pretty flag girl is more than waving around banners and wearing cute skirts.”

WARNINGS. this series contains an ungodly amount of smut. reader discretion is advised. topics explored are: gangbanging, drugs, gang activities, semi-dark content, weapons, dub/noncon. each fic will be tagged with its own warnings. 18+ only.

NOTE. finally putting out this series that i’ve been thinking about for a while now. i hope you all enjoy it. each fic is inspired by a song so listen to them!

— STARTING LINE UP.

PART I — NO PHOTOS.

SHIBUYA CITY CHAMPION, BAJI KEISUKE GOES HEAD TO HEAD WITH KAZUTORA HANEMIYA.

PART II — BLINDING LIGHTS.

BRAHMAN’S PRINCESS RACES AGAINST BONTEN’S MASTERMIND, MANJIROU SANO.

PART III — P POWER.

DRAKEN V. HANMA SHUJI.

PART IV — TASTE.

IZANA KUROKAWA FLIES ALL THE WAY FROM MANILA TO RACE AGAINST BEST FRIEND, KAKUCHO HITTO!

PART V — TO BE ANNOUNCED.

Bonten had somewhat of a ritual. It wasn’t anything too crazy like pentagrams or summoning the dead relatives of their victims, but something that made them, them. It was the driving force of all their operations, the sole source that kept the organization afloat. When things went awry they knew they could always count on this one thing, something minor yet major.

Money.

Money granted them connections to criminal organizations around the world. Allies established, and enemies gained. The issue here was that Bonten was bored. All the money in the world couldn’t snatch them from their odd day to day realities of being glorified hitmen, they needed excitement. Something new.

“Any ideas?” All 8 of the men sat around the large lacquered oak table with a particular noble at the forefront. He wore a black suit with a white tie that complimented the strands atop his head. His gaze was empty, as if the light had died out ages ago. There’s two standing beside him, one with a blond skunk strip and slick back hair, the other with the same style except it was platinum all around and a short beard adorned the lower half of his face.

If you didn’t know them, you’d steer clear—They looked intimidating, terrifying almost. You knew Bonten too well though; under all that hardened criminalism were just regular salarymen.

You stood next to where Koko sat. A snarky young man with low patience. It’s hard for you to get under his skin like the others do, and though he’d never admit it, he did have a thing for his little assistant. “We already do so much, I doubt taking on other projects would benefit us financially.” Koko retorts to Mikey’s query. His hands are folded under his chin, propping his head up as if he was bored of the conversation that only lasted two minutes so far.

“Look at you only thinkin’ ‘bout a quick buck. Ya never change, do ya?” It was Sanzu who spoke. Eccentric as he is, when Mikey was in the room he was loyal like a dog. He was one of the many variables that contributed to Kokonoi’s premature graying. Never have they ever gotten along.

“It’s not always about profit. We could expand territory and utilize it for something bigger like weapon trade, or women.” The eldest Haitani spoke. You favored something about him, possibly the eyes or his charismatic nature. He was a caring soul as well, he put his brother above his own life whether Rindou liked it or not. “Bouncing off Ran’s idea, what about Okinawa?” Kakucho uttered.

Usually you tuned out business talk, it wasn’t important to your job. All you were paid to do was look pretty and occasionally pass out paperwork, but the topic at hand piqued your interest. Hitto continues, “We own land in Okinawa, we could build another headquarters there, a casino maybe?”

It seemed as though Manjiro finally took his children into consideration, nodding along with the conversation. “A casino is for idiots, let’s do underground racing.” Sanzu adds. There’s silence and judgmental stares before Mikey finally allows himself to speak once more. “I like it.”

“You can’t be serious, Boss?” Takeomi asks from his spot behind. “How can we even—”

It’s Hajime who interjects this time, the wheels seemingly turning in his head. “If we combine both Hitto and his idea, we could host bets and call in racers. I’m thinking motorcycles over cars. We can’t risk importing illegal vehicles overseas.”

That was just it. The very proposal that’ll put words to action. With a seance of agreeances, Mikey turns to Rindou for finalization. “Make it happen, Haitani.” Rin nods before taking a quick glance at you and back to his leader. “A flag girl’ll be nice too, preferably a hot bimbo.”

You were too fixated on checking your fresh manicure to feel the stares of all the men burning into your frame. The clearing of Kakucho’s throat pulls you from your focus and you finally make the realization. “Hm?”

Mikey tunes his attention back to Rindou, the one notorious for his connections with about any and everyone. “Call up your best racers and fly them to Okinawa. Set up a hotel and headquarters while you’re at it. Let’s take a little business trip.”

With the meeting adjourned, the plan sets in motion.

[grandline-fics]

Do you think I can request a seamstress y/n being part of the strawhat crew and how they need to make new outfits for the crew as disguises and when it came to luffys turn, it was kinda difficult for them because they have a huge crush on him and seeing him bare for measurements kills them a little-

Kinda just a sorta oblivious luffy witnessing y/n get flustered a little!

Really curious how you’re going to make it end lol

(Love your writing sm! Thank you for advanced!)

DESCRIPTION: You’re the crew’s seamstress and measuring Luffy leaves you flustered 

WARNINGS: none

CHARACTERS: Luffy

WORDS: 934

A/N:  Sorry this took so long but I hope it was worth it and that you like how it all turned out

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST

———————

When it came to your passion of designing and making clothes you were unbelievably focussed. It was to the point that if the crew wanted to distract you from something they’d bring up the topic of a new design they had in mind. Some of the crew were more subtle about this tactic than others, for instance when Sanji needed you away from the kitchen for a few hours so he could work on your surprise birthday banquet, Robin expertly brought up a floral skirt and top combination she wanted to wear but couldn’t find the right colour scheme anywhere.

On that occasion you’d gotten so motivated that by the time you were needed for the banquet you had to be physically dragged out of your workshop. Oppositely there was one time Zoro had stolen your dressmaker’s mannequin to test out which angle would be best to attack someone from for his new technique. When you’d found out and went to rescue your possession Zoro had tried the distraction method but merely said ‘buttons’ which only bewildered you for the briefest of moments before you took back what was yours while it was thankfully still in tact. Yes, there was no way your focus could be shaken when it came to your work…well except when it came to your Captain. Your very oblivious Captain. 

You kept telling yourself that it was just a crush, that he didn’t feel that way about you and he was just affectionate and energetic by nature and you were good with that, you really were. The last thing you ever wanted to do was jeopardise the amazing friendship you’d made with Luffy. So you kept your crush to yourself and things continued as normal. The only time things threatened to reveal themselves was at moments like these. The ship was heading into dangerous territory governed by another rival pirate which meant keeping as low a profile as possible and that meant they were depending on you for appropriate disguises. 

“Luffy please just stand still.” You lightly begged, watching your Captain excitedly move about your workspace, touching the bolts of different fabrics and flicking through your design book with glee like it was his very first time in the room when in reality you’d lost count how often his presence had been in and out. At your plea he stopped running his fingers through the soft patterned material that had caught his attention and turned to face you with his usual carefree grin. You sighed in relief and slowly reached for your measuring tape while trying to keep your expression as relaxed as possible. This was always the hard part so you just tried to go as quickly as possible. “Shirt off.”

You had no problem seeing any of the other guys shirtless, yeah most of them were impressive but the only one to get you  to be a shaking, blushing mess was Luffy. When Luffy’s hands moved to his shirt you dropped your gaze away, mostly out of respect but also because you could already hear your heart slamming against your chest and feel your skin begin to heat. When you heard the fabric of his shirt fall on the ground you looked up, trying to keep your gaze focussed on Luffy’s eyes but you couldn’t help but let it drop for the briefest of moments to peek at his impressive physique. Snapping out of it you instructed quickly. “Arms out.”

You didn’t know whether to laugh or scowl when Luffy grinned and extended his arms out to you as though inviting you in for a hug as opposed to putting his arms outward so you could accurately measure his frame. You knew it wasn’t his intention to fluster you like this, it was just Luffy being Luffy but it made things so much harder to deal with. Resisting the urge to give in to temptation you took hold of Luffy’s wrist and pulled to manoeuvre him correctly. Quickly you stood behind him and began to lift your tape towards him. With every adventure and fight meant Luffy’s body got only more and more defined and it made measuring him a greater struggle.

It was a relief that you managed to make it through most of the process without making too much of an idiot of yourself but by the end of it all you were beet red and trying to look anywhere but the cause. Through it all Luffy was his happy, oblivious self, talking excitedly about the disguise he wanted but when you stepped away he finally took a proper look at you. “Huh? Are you feeling okay?” He asked, leaning in closer and pressing his hand against your head. However that action meant his still bare chest was against you too which only made your condition worse. “You shouldn’t have been working if you’re sick. I’ll go get Chopper, okay?”

“N-no! I’ll be fine!” Your guilt for making him worry managed to pull you back from your inner spiral. “I’m just…too warm! Something cool to drink and I’ll be back to normal.” You reassured only for Luffy to grin and pull you out of your workshop and straight to the kitchen so you could cool down. Finally feeling more yourself and no longer overheating thanks to Luffy sitting back you could focus on the design. “So you never said what colours you wanted for this disguise, Luffy.”

Luffy blinked at you and gave you a look as though you were the oblivious one. “Well as long as it matches you I’ll be happy.”

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.

Zipper

Day #12 - Prompt: Ow! | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: M | CW: Aftermath of a Sex Injury | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Minor Steddie | Tags: Gareth's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day, And Eddie Tries To Make It Better, While Goodie Tries To Make It Worse

"Is it bad? It feels bad," Gareth says, clearly refusing to look down again. And, he's gotta say, Eddie doesn't blame him. He wouldn't want to look down either if it was his dick in this condition.

"Well," Eddie says, as diplomatically as he can, "it's not great."

Gareth whines from his place on the closed toilet seat, as Eddie is squatted down between his thighs. Looking, examining. 

"It's probably gonna fall off," Goodie chimes in, and Eddie reaches over and swats at him. 

"Stop it," Eddie chides, because that's not gonna help anything, then he reassures Gareth, "It's not gonna fall off."

Goodie laughs his ass off, and Eddie's gonna kill him if he keeps this up. Gareth's freaked out enough as it is. These things happen, and yeah, Gareth seems more prone to stupid accidents than the rest of them. But still. This is brand new territory, even for him.

But Eddie's pretty sure it probably feels like it's gonna fall off, even if it isn't, because goddamn, fucking ow. 

The door out in the main room of the hotel opens and closes, and then Jeff is in the doorway of the bathroom, asking, "Why does it look like Eddie's examining Gareth's dick?"

"Because he is. Gareth tried to rub it off," Goodie says, dryly.

"He didn't try to rub it off," Eddie clarifies. 

Jeff leans over Eddie's shoulder, "Looks like he tried to rub it off."

"I didn't try to rub it off!" Gareth shouts. "If you aren't gonna tell me what I need to do to fix it, then let's all stop looking at my junk."

Eddie laughs, because it's ridiculous. It's not like he asked to look. Definitely not. Eddie lifts it up one more time, and man, it looks like he's been stabbed in the dick with an icepick, right under the head.

"What happened?" Jeff asks, and Gareth sighs, because he's already been through this twice before and he's beyond fed up. He told Eddie, and then told it all again to Goodie when he showed up, even if he really didn't want to, Eddie's sure. 

And now Jeff is here and wanting to know, too.

"So, I was fooling around with this girl last night," Gareth says, like he's giving witness testimony in a murder trial and not a sex story.

"And she bit your dick?" Jeff asks. 

"Tried to Lorena Bobbitt it right off," Goodie riffs.

"Yeah, with her teeth," Eddie adds, piling onto the bit. Can't help it. He feels sorry for the kid, but not that sorry.

"Guys!" Gareth shouts, and they all fucking laugh. But let him continue.

"We were fooling around, and she was grinding on my lap, my cock, and it got caught up against my zipper in a weird way," Gareth says, and the rest of them all shift uncomfortably, as if their dicks might be the next in line for such an injury.

"It didn't hurt while it was happening?" Jeff asks, being far more empathetic and reasonable than Eddie thinks Goodie or him have been.

"Of course it fucking hurt, she was rubbing a hole into my goddamn dick through my underwear with little metal teeth."

"Well, why didn't you stop her?" Jeff asks, like a reasonable solution to this would ever be the answer. 

"Because there was a girl grinding on my dick, Jesus H. Christ, why do you think, asshole?" Gareth snaps, and they all laugh. 

"I mean, you could have paused and done some rearranging, right? The options couldn't have only been 'no grinding' or 'hole in the dick', right?"

"I don't know, I didn't want her to stop what she was doing. Okay? It felt good, except for the whole making an extra hole in my dick part."

"Of course," Goodie says dryly, "that makes sense."

"Shut up, Goodie. Like you'd have ever stopped a fucking hot girl from grinding your dick down to a bloody nub," Gareth snips, covering his face with both of his hands. "Just fix it, Eddie."

Eddie isn't sure how he's supposed to fix this. It's just gonna have to heal. He can't make a hole in the dick go away. He's not a magician.

"Did you have sex like this?" Jeff asks.

"Are you crazy? I have a hole in my dick, no, I didn't have sex. I have a hole in my dick and I didn't even come. I have regrets."

And they all laugh.

Gareth's had enough, Eddie can tell.

"Okay, okay, show's over," Eddie says, and shoos the other two out of the room, the door closing behind them as they go, and then it's just him, still perched between Gareth's thighs.

Once it's just them left in the bathroom, Eddie looks up at Gareth, "Do you think you need to go to the ER?"

Gareth shakes his head, "No. It just really fucking hurts. I regret everything."

Eddie smiles, but keeps himself from laughing. It's hilarious, but it probably feels like a razor blade's stuck into his dick. It's the stuff of nightmares.

Eddie nods at him, "Okay. Then take a shower. Wash it really fucking good with soap, even if it burns, and then put some ointment on it. I'll find some gauze, or a band-aid, something. Then just keep an eye on it. Make sure it's getting better, not worse. Unless you really do want it to fall off?"

"Definitely not," Gareth says.

"Okay, that's the plan," Eddie says standing up. It's times like these that he wishes he wasn't the go-to whenever any of them need help, because this? This wasn't on his schedule for the day.

"Hey," Eddie says into the phone, "I touched another man's dick this morning. Thought you should know."

Steve laughs into the receiver, thousands of miles away, "What'd Gareth do now?"

Eddie smiles, big and bright. At the knowledge that Steve knows him, trusts him, loves him. 

And then he starts into the whole grizzly debacle, from top to tip. 

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

Notes: This is inspired by based off of Kevin Smith's comedic retelling of his first night with his wife. (Explicit story, but linked if you want to hear the original.)

[painted-flag]

OF FLOWERS AND DEATH - aemond targaryen

Chapter 13: Of Taverns and Bathhouses

☾⋆⁺₊✧ dark elf!Aemond Targaryen x f!human!reader series. ✧₊⁺⋆☾ series masterlist. ☾⋆⁺₊✧ word count: 4.1k ✧₊⁺⋆☾ series warnings: 18+ depictions of violence/gore, eventual smut, warfare, sickness/disease, some moments of misogyny, and mentions of alcohol consumption. ☾⋆⁺₊✧ An opportunity presents itself to run from the sting of recent heartbreak.

Travelling throughout the elder forest was far more exciting than you thought it would be. The first day you left the castle, it was relatively boring, but camp that night was rather enjoyable. It took an hour to set up camp and you got your own tent for privacy. Aemond had his own and the ten guards escorting you all shared one. That night, while Aemond ate in his tent, you joined the guards for dinner around the bonfire.

When they were off duty, the guards were very lively and unserious. They welcomed you with open arms and no prejudice due to your human form. This was, largely, like your experiences with other elves. Only a few ever admonished you for your humanity - primarily Cole. In your time in the elf kingdom, you have learned that the hate between your kind was mostly charged by your people; something that made you feel guilty inside.

That night passed swiftly and your group packed up with ease and continued on their way. You had spent the day riding. Despite not being able to tell what was day or not because of the elder trees, you could tell that it was nearing time to settle in for the night to rest. You were getting tired and you could tell the guards were as well.

Aemond was with another guard and they trailed ahead of the group. The road by then had gotten more narrow and less grand and you assumed you had left the capital and had entered the rest of the elven kingdom territory.

Your horse showed visible signs of growing exhaustion and you sighed with relief upon seeing a stone building in the distance. The windows flickered with candlelight and it was not as rowdy as other inns and taverns you had experienced in the past. You had stayed in many during your travel from the human kingdom’s capital to the village you had lived in. However, this one looked more clean and well-kept.

The group all reconvened at the front of the building. Aemond got off his horse and walked in with one of the guards while the others began directing the horses to the open stables off to the side of the building. The stone bricks looked old and weathered while vines and other plants crawled up the sides. It looked as though nature was slowly reclaiming this spot.

The guard that went in with Aemond emerged and walked to you, and you recalled his name being Elias. Just as you were going to dismount, he reached out and helped you down before speaking, “We have secured lodgings for the night. This place has natural hot springs, would you like to bathe while we unpack your things?”

“That sounds wonderful,” You knew this trip would be a week and you were already on the second day. You missed the more hygienic amenities back at the palace and knew the rest of this trip would be spent with brief moments of cleaning in passing streams. This was an opportunity you did not wish to miss.

You had retrieved the supplies you needed to clean yourself along with a new change of clothes, which was a more modest set of nightclothes. There were no other travellers, so your group had the inn to themselves. The hot spring was located right next to the main building. The waters flowed into a large poolroom. At the centre of the pool was a divider that spanned the whole room except for an area on the side which acted as a walkway, though there was a curtain that could be closed for complete privacy.

You had walked into the area and surveyed the room. You walked across and opened the curtain for the other room. There was a stone bench where you placed your things. As you moved to undress, another figure came into the bathhouse. Aemond had come in and froze when he saw you.

“The guards are setting up dinner in the main room. It should be ready soon,” He seemed almost awkward in his mannerisms, but it was likely due to wariness from travelling.

“Food sounds good,” You internally cringed at that response. It was like you had just learned to speak. The nerves you had felt around Aemond when you first met him had been out of fear, but now it morphed into a different origin that you could not place.

“I’m going to uh…” You pointed to the curtain to indicate you were going to bathe.

Aemond nodded, “Yes, that is uh, what I am here to do as well.”

You were unable to come up with more words and honestly believed if you said anything else it would make the situation more unbearable. You reached out and shut the curtain for privacy. However, you stood there, unable to undress. You could hear Aemond move on the other side of the thick fabric.

Heat rushed across your face as you realized he was undressing. Of course he would, as he told you he was there to bathe as well. Yet, the sound of it caused you to think of rather impure thoughts.

You could drown yourself in this large poolroom for even thinking of such a thing.

As you began to undress, all you could think about was the king next to you. It was not surprising, to be so bashful. Since Aemond had taken you to your home to visit and pack, you had noticed there had been unusual stirrings in your stomach when near him.

You put your foot in the water on the first step in and noticed how warm the water was. A thin mist rose from it and evaporated in the air. You moved slowly, step by step and adjusted to the water. Eventually, you had become fully immersed and soaked in heat.

The sound of moving water from the other room caught you from your trance. You could hear him moving in the water. There was a thin stone wall separating you two, but it felt as though there was nothing there at all. Time passed as you scrubbed yourself near raw, making sure that this wash would last as the next few ones are likely to be poor and hasty. There were a few oils you packed with you that came of use.

While cleaning yourself, you pretended not to care about what Aemond was doing, but you would be a liar. You could hear the water moving and after a while, Aemond got out. Your ears picked up on him getting into clothes and heard his steps as he left the bathhouse. A breath escaped your lips when he was gone and you felt your shoulders relax. You did not know why you were so tense but glad that it had left.

Your stomach rumbled with hunger and you decided it was best to get out and see what the guards prepared for dinner.

With a clean body and a belly full of food, you walked up the stairs of the inn to reach your room. The hall was dark, with few torches to light it up. You had drunk a fair amount of elf ale and discovered that it was a lot stronger than their wine. While not drunk, there was enough alcohol in your system to create a divide between your mind and mouth. Inside you were conscious, but your words would slip easily.

After exchanging many stories with the elf guards, you realized it would be better for you to go to bed and get as much sleep as you could. The night clothes you had changed into were more modest compared to elf clothing but still leaned on revealing in human terms. You had learned quickly that there was not a lot of shame among the elves when it came to their bodies. It was not something you had judged them for but found rather refreshing. If you were gifted with such natural beauty, you would not be ashamed to show it.

You turned down the hall and nearly ran into what you thought was a wall. You almost lost your balance but a pair of arms reached out to steady your figure. Their hands were warm and large, carrying a sense of familiarity. When you looked up, you saw that the person was Aemond. He was not dressed up in the finery and complex set of clothing. He adorned his regular boots and pants but only wore a black undershirt with some untied buttons at the neck and chest. While his clothes were more casual, his sword was still strapped to his side. You wondered why he always kept it so close like some kind of charm for luck.

Knowing it was Aemond, his hold burned against your skin. His hands were firmly holding your waist and it reminded you of that time he had hoisted you down from his horse after following you into the woods on that reckless mission you took. That was the first time he had touched you, but it did not burn then as it did now.

Aemond released you quickly but did not back away. He gave a curt nod and moved to pass you. However, you had consumed one too many drinks that night and all your inhibition and restraint to act more complacent around him left your mind.

“Why did you take me on this trip?” You questioned. Aemond had stopped and turned around.

His face was composed as he answered, “Like I said, to clear your mind. We can't have an important healer not cared for during such a pivotal moment in understanding the taint.” His answer was very political, shrouded with diplomacy and unattachment. It was easy to see that he was not forthcoming with the real reason.

“So, I am only here to get better so my skills can be used?” Your buzzed brain was in no control of your words. His words confirmed a small fear – your value was tied only to your studies and not to who you were.

Aemond regarded you with what could have been perceived as reverence, but ultimately your concept of perception was skewed because of the ale. You knew it, and you could tell Aemond knew it as well. It was fairly obvious by the slight sway you had while standing and the drawl in your tone.

It was, with great surprise, that you could see the corners of his mouth lift ever so slightly. While not a smile or even a smirk, it was something to which you had never seen from him.

“You are worth more than your skills.” His words were whispered and you almost did not hear them. Were you meant to hear it or was it perhaps a moment of his own clarity?

There was no way you would remember this come the morrow, as the haze you had been in got stronger as more of the ale settled, “Then why are you so mean?” Your voice was light and carried a tone of hurt. Your arms were wrapped around your middle for comfort.

Aemond looked almost hurt by your words, but his face put on a front of sincerity, “Go to bed, little rūklon.” He turned away from you and down the corner. You were left standing in the dim hallway, more confused than you were at the start of the conversation.

Your feet shuffled across the hall and towards the door of your room. Your fingers gripped the cool handle but you paused. You looked back at the way Aemond went and almost begged for him to come back. There were more questions you wanted to ask, but it was hard to form them into words. You wanted to know why he had come on this trip, why he had done it in the first place and most of all why his presence managed to cause heat to claw from your stomach and across your body.

You shook your head and opened the door to get into the room. It was of substantial size, nothing too grand for an inn that was likely for weary travellers to board for the night. There was enough room for a single bed, desk, and wardrobe. There was a tiny fireplace, likely in each room, with a chair in front of it. When you sat down on the bed, you let out a loud sigh.

With each passing day, Aemond continued to subvert expectations and positively confound you.

It was the third day of travel, the same day your group was expected to reach Lake Rosemagne. You had left the inn early that morning and continued to trek on. Your legs were not used to riding for so long and they ached greatly. You chose to disregard the pain and distract yourself from looking at the scenery. However, the dark forest with elder trees had grown on you and your once-revered awe had dimmed slightly.

Thankfully, one of the elf guards, Elias, caught both your growing discomfort from riding and boredom and took it upon himself to cheer you up with stories of fun events from his lifetime. Occasionally some other guard would chime in with information, either to build off of it or counteract Elas' quips.

It easily distracted you from the monotony of travel and you even began sharing your own stories, albeit with less adventure than theirs. Elias questioned you on human customs, though your answers felt bland. Truthfully, your once appreciation for your kind had been skewed slightly. The haze of instilled-from-childhood superiority had vanished and you were left questioning if there even was one side better than the other.

It was during one story that you found yourself laughing uncontrollably. Elias continued to tell his story while you felt a stitch-like feeling on your sides. You leaned forward in the saddle and gripped the reins in an attempt to compose yourself. So caught up in laughter, it took you a moment to calm down and when you did, you looked forward to the front of the company.

Aemond had turned to watch you while he and another guard had gotten further away and stopped for the rest to catch up. His gaze was locked on your form and his mouth pursed as it panned to Elias and the other guards beside you. Once your group had caught up, Aemond turned forward and went back to guide the procession.

For some odd reason, his near condescending gaze rendered you silent for the next few hours. The company moved on and soon you noticed the area become brighter. The trees had begun to get smaller and thus the canopy opened ever so slowly. The light of firefly jars and lanterns strung on the horses changed to streaks of sun peeking through tree branches. You could feel the air gradually get hotter as you entered the sun-exposed environment.

You could see the road continuing, but the end of the tree line also came into view. Your horses passed into an open field. Ahead, were sprawling rocky mountains, jagged and snow-capped. At the bottom of these mountains, lay a lake fed by the melting ice caps and glaciers high above the ground nestled between peaks of the rocks.

The water shimmered and moved like melting glass, rolling over and over. A swift breeze flew by, blowing the smell of flowers that grew in the field. It was cool and caressed your skin with the same cold that you would find back in the deep elder-tree forest.

The group dismounted and began to set up camp. Despite your repeated insistence to help, the guards brushed you off. They insisted that you take a look around and begin your observations and work as you would only stay this night and the next before having to go back. It gave you one day to conduct whatever you needed to do, but truthfully you had no idea.

It was not your insistence that brought you here, but Aemond’s. It was to freshen your mind from Lyra’s passing so that you could continue to work on a cure, which seemed ever so near but also far away.

You began to make a careful walk of the field, jotting down various observations of the plants around you. The general environment was so calming and you relished the feeling of the sun kissing your skin. It warmed you to the bone.

You approached the water and put your notebook back into the side bag that was strung on your shoulder. For just a moment, you took in the expanse of the lake. Its emerald hue reminded you of Lyra’s eyes, so deep and pure, but not everlasting.

This was the last place your father was if his journal was correct. The last pieces of scenery he saw, the last breeze he felt. You wondered if he had thought of you when he likely died. For as long as he was gone, you adamantly defended the notion that he was alive. After coming so close to death, and truly allowing yourself to heal, you concluded that life was not that fortunate.

Before you had come to the kingdom, there were still underlying scars that denied you from moving on and growing. There was nothing to build off of for a new life in the capital, so you chose to live in a far-off village instead. It was in that isolation that the wound festered and you drowned yourself in work.

Now, after entering the elf kingdom and experiencing a world not of your own, you could finally see through the fog in your brain. Your father was likely dead and it crushed your soul.

It was as you stood, no more than a hundred metres from the elves making camp, that the sound of crunching grass could be heard behind you. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Aemond move to stand beside you with his arms crossed behind his back. He stood on your left, so you were able to see his one eye.

He looked as though he wished to speak, but the thought of your father had you asking a hard question, “What happens to humans who are found on your territory?”

You gave no indication of willingness to turn to him. You kept your gaze focused on the bright shimmers of the water. It was an attempt to hold back the tears that were brimming in your eyes. The question did not need to be asked. You knew the answer. While many of the stories surrounding Aemond had been fabricated or exaggerated, a lot of them were true.

The fate of humans who crossed into elven territory was short; a quick brutish death.

Aemond opened his mouth and spoke your name softy, but you could not deal with any deflection and interrupted, “Tell me,”

You could already feel him looking at you, a gaze that always erupted a heat within your stomach. He spoke with an almost defeated sigh, “I believe you already know.” He let you mull over his words and you conceded that it was true. You already knew, what good would it do to hear it in graphic detail? What could that accomplish for your already grief-stricken mind?

“This was the last place my father was, according to his journal.” Your voice trembled slightly.

“We keep a ledger of all trespassers which has been checked for your father’s name. Believe me, it would be noted.” Aemond tried to reassure you. His hand reached out as if to touch you, but pulled back, “There have been no humans in this area for well over a century.”

“What if he was stopped before he could get here?” Your brain had begun to spiral and list a myriad of possibilities. Either proving he was still alive or describing other possibilities of death. Your psyche was at war with itself.

Aemond remained adamant in his words, “He would have been noted down-”

“What if he wasn’t?” You had ignored all sense of propriety in this conversation. You had refused to address him as ‘your grace.’ Either an act of rebellion or a subtle way of telling him that you would never belong to the realm of elves and therefore felt no need to bow.

“Of course it would be noted.” Aemond turned to you, staring intently at the side of your face.

“Tell me, do you trust your guards?” You asked.

The question seemed to have given him a rude awakening. Aemond’s posture faulted and his arms fell down from being behind his back and rested at his sides. He was almost seething at the implication. You assumed it struck a chord. You had, without outright saying it, undermined his authority and capability as a king. Likely the first to do so by the way his body reacted.

Perhaps, men were not so different from male elves; stuck in their ways and sense of personal superiority. It was almost comedic.

“My guards are highly trained. They are reliable.” Aemond dismissed your concerns.

“Every single one of them?” You then turned to him to meet his fiery gaze with one equal to that. The two of you stood there, watching the other. The blue of his eye pulled you in. As much as you wanted to hate him, willed it, the urge to get lost in a sea of blue was what really stoked your anger.

In spite of it all, you wished to get lost in him.

You waited for some form of retaliation. Maybe this was when Aemond would lower whatever false persona he had put on during this trip. Get rid of the niceties and show you the depth of truth in his reputation for brutality.

It was with great shock that he did not, but rather he walked away from you and back towards the camp.

His feet trampled on the stalky grass. You watched him go, unsure of where the two of you stood. One minute, you could almost confuse the relationship for friends, but then something would happen – either you or his snapping attitude – and you two would go back to rivals. At the very least, some type of rivalry.

There was no logic to it, yet there was a synergy there that drew you in.

His shoulders swayed as he walked and you suddenly wished to join him. No destination in mind, no plans, just simply walk with him. There was insurmountable confusion. You battled with yourself over your feelings. You could not admit it, did not wish to, but there was no denying that you had grown a fondness for the king. He had a roughness to him that both frustrated and intrigued you more than ever.

You wanted to lash out, hit him, push him, or simply just yell at him. However, there was no reason to. He had given you none, which was the source of your anger. You wanted to hate him and wanted there to be a reason to. He had slaughtered your people in the Great War; burned towns and tortured them. However, the same could be said for your people those many centuries ago.

You wanted all of the stories to be true. You wanted him to be a monster so there could be a justified reason to hate him, but that was not possible. Even further, your own body had betrayed you and began to crave his presence.

The frustration in your mind made you stop watching Aemond walk away and turn back to the lake. You watched the gentle waves of water hit the bank, sputtering sounds caressing your ears.

Your hand reached down to your bag and felt around until finding what you wanted. From your bag rose the doll that Lyra had gifted you. Your fingers brushed over the fabric of the sewn dress. You turned the doll to face the view, hoping that this would give back on the promise you made to Lyra to take her on an adventure.

The winding lake, glowing with the light of the setting sun, was imposed in front of the sprawling mountains. The sun had begun to set behind you and the snow on top was illuminated with hues of orange and pink from the gossamer clouds that littered the sky. A breeze brushed over you, cool and refreshing. You breathed in slowly and held it for a moment then exhaled. Birds were chirping in the distance, dancing through the air in a playful waltz. Flowers grew in patches on the grass with some brushing your shoes.

You looked down at the doll in your hand with glossy eyes, “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

And for the first time in days, you truly smiled. 

Chapter 14: The Saphire Preview

“You care.” Aemond seemed to have had an epiphany at that moment, his mouth slightly agape, “You care about my kind…” Anger flared in you at his comment. Had he not seen, the whole time you had been there, that caring was all you did? Your work with the cure, with the patients, connecting with other elves including his family. It was all because you did care, more than you ever have in your life.

“I care?” Your grip on the doll tightened as you finally looked at him. You met his soft gaze with hostility, “Do you still think so little of me after all this time? Have I not proven myself?”

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[stormblessed95]

Hello,

I hope you have recovered fully or are recovering well.

I only wanted to say this because I am an over thinker and someone needs to tell me to shut up. I don't have any Jikook fans in real life so these are the places I vent.

I think I am either the majority or.the minority depending on which space we are in that thinks and feels that Jikook are distant and have been for a while. I don't think like only because of the car scene. Even when they are taking photos, they aren't doing it like they used to do before. Before if one of them was taking a photo of the two, generally they would be attached at the hips and in each other's face. I didnt notice them doing that in the first two episodes but I also just saw a small clip from Sapporo and they are also taking a pic but they are but distant from each other. I know it might be some miniscule to you but these are few of the instances where I felt that their relationship was beyond friendship.

I know I am over thinking it but I don't know, I don't feel as good about it I suppose. What happened to the Jikook that would literally smooshed their faces together for a photo? What happened to Jikook that were always seen hanging out prior to the hiatus. I heard about them hanging out all the time.

Yes they were busy and I get that. Jimin specially seems to have been super duper busy but he seems to have built a deeper relationship with the Hyung like but kep.a distance from the Maknae line so I am a bit confused I suppose. Out of all the BTS members, I always assumed Jikook were it and nothing would come in between so I am surprised to see work coming in between them?

I still feel like shiiitttt lol but I had to start work today anyway. Thanks for checking in though 💜

Listen, I'm not here to tell you what to think or tell you what your opinion should be. Think whatever you want. I'm sorry to say, but I'm not ever going to be the one to talk you into shipping Jikook. You think they aren't together, that's totally good by me! I hope you still love and support them as BTS, and I hope you have a wonderful day and enjoy any part of the fandom you continue to participate in, including mine if you stick around anyway on my blog.

I'm just here to present facts and let you draw your own conclusions based off that. And sometimes share my opinions about them, but only with the caveat that no one steals MY opinion and must create their own 😉

So for the facts, babygirl (I use as a gender neutral terms), for as many selcas as Jikook took like this:

They took JUST as many like this, which are (edging into opinion territory just a bit here) just the same as the glimpses we've gotten of selcas taken from AYS

Close together for the selfie, but not smushed as close as they could possibly get without just going ahead and crawling inside each other. Just a normal cutesy photo

More facts! As for hanging out prior to the hiatus (where I guess now it's assumed they never saw each other not even once, which is opinion and assumption, not fact), I have a post already done about all the times Jikook were spotted hanging out outside of work (because BTS time is work).

Hint: it's less often than you think

Double hint: they were still glued at the hip, we just know they were because they say and act like they were, not because we got to see or hear about it

Triple hint: it's probably exactly the same now except we know that currently, at this moment, they choose to continue to be glued at the hip for the next 18 months at minimum

I have other posts about their dates too, but this is the one that covers the topic I mentioned above best I think

Work came between them? Is that what they said or is that what you took their words to mean based on your biases and previous assumptions?

Anywho! Thanks again for checking in on me love.

Just a bit of unsolicited advice that you are free to disregard. I think whatever you decide about how you feel about Jikook, you should consider taking an emotional step back from them, just a smidge. Nothing that is only supposed to bring you joy, BTS or any other hobby, should get you feeling so far in your head feeling so conflicted. Good luck, sending you purple hearts! 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

[spideyhexx]

i was gonna make my own post about this but i thought i’d share it with you through here to make you feel better :)

i had this thought for soft!coryo, and it was just doing the most candid, minute activities with him. like, you’re sitting at your desk doing school work and coryo’s laying on your bed reading a book. you guys aren’t even doing anything but just enjoying each other’s company :’)

and if we wanna get into cuddle territory (which is ALWAYS A YES), you would be sitting up in your bed, the lamp on your nightstand turned on, and you’re reading a book or writing in your journal. and coryo is just laying beside you lazily ghosting his fingertips over the bare skin of your thighs and you get the most delightful goosebumps bc his hands are so cold. but it’s a comforting cold so you don’t mind it. and you two don’t have to say anything to each other except indulge in each other’s presence. and coryo may press an occasional kiss to your arm, chest, or cheek. he might get a little impatient bc all he wants to do is go to sleep wrapped in your arms so you finish up your book/journal earlier than planned, turn off the lamp, and fall asleep next to your pretty boyfriend <3

ahhh dally you're :') thank you

gn!reader

feel like the quality time of comfortable silence would become so important for Coryo and you, especially if you're both busier. All you'd need to do is choose the place you're spending the time at and then both of you would be there, doing work or if the other doesn't have anything pressing, reading a book like you mentioned :) I can imagine working at your desk, glancing over at Coryo as he sits back against your pillows, completely engrossed in a book you had on your little shelf.

His brow furrowed and there would always be a few curls getting into his eyes and you'd catch the moment he blew up at it to try and get it out of his face.

Cuddles would come after work is done and sleepiness is taking over. I like the idea of a journal cause then Coryo would be like, "You writing about me?" And maybe you are, maybe you aren't, but you roll your eyes at him and continue writing. Also thinking about the first times you did this with him, he'd be a little impatient, just wanting to feel you against his body under the covers, he'd tug at your shirt or try to steal your pen, just being a pest.

But now, he's as patient as ever. You explained it well, he'd trace shapes on your thigh, head leaned into your side or near your hip, watching his own fingers on your skin. He'd probably try to cuddle into you more, almost like he's luring you to finish writing quickly and turn to face him, but Coryo would wait as long as you needed, the same smile would cross his lips when you finally close the journal.

Some nights he's more excited and pulls you so quick to his body, but some nights, he's sleepier, letting you cuddle into him first before he wraps his arms around you tightly, kissing your head and leaving small kisses all over your face, purposely skipping your lips until you ask him to kiss you there.

i would like to have night with him

let's chat about coryo, here :)

[otdiaftg]

The King's Men - Chapter Fourteen

Day: Sunday, March 10th / 11th* Time: 11:20 PM EST

For a moment, though, Neil and Matt are alone. Matt gives Neil's shoulder a careful squeeze. "Things could have gone much worse," Matt says, subdued. "I'm glad they didn't. You want anything, you need anything, you let us know. Okay?" "Okay," Neil says. "I mean it," Matt stresses. "I know," Neil says. "I'm done lying to you, Matt. I promise." Matt sighs, but he sounds more tired than skeptical. "Wish it didn't take all of this to get that, but I guess I understand. A lot of things about you make sense now, actually. With one notable exception," Matt adds dryly, "but I'm going to let Allison handle that conversation. She'll kill me if I steal her thunder." "Great," Neil says. Matt grins at his unenthusiastic tone. Neil thinks maybe he is better off not knowing, but he asks, "Does that mean you bet against it?" "I bet for you and against him," Matt says, and shrugs at Neil's surprised look. "I'm your roommate. You never talked about girls, even back when Seth and I would go on and on about them. I noticed, but I figured you'd say something if you wanted us to know. Just so you know, it makes no difference to me either way," Matt says, "except I would have seriously judged your taste a couple days ago." Neil assumes Andrew's territorial streak in Baltimore has a lot to do with Matt's change of heart. "Did he really choke Kevin?" "Took three of us to pull him off," Matt says. Neil doesn't know what to say to that. Matt gives him a minute, then claps his shoulder and goes to get changed.

Art used with permission by Emry-Stars-Art. Thank you @emry-stars-art!

*Due to the Leap Year, I have opted to highlight the day rather than the date to keep the events in occurrence to the 2007 year. I will continue to mark both days accordingly.

[dyns33]

The Big Cat

It was difficult but I wrote for Miguel O Hara ! Took me weeks, and I’ll try again, but I don”t know why, it’s super hard to write about him. 

It was mainly to laugh and annoy him that Y/N was saying that Miguel was more like a cat than a spider.

It was also somewhat true.

Between his fangs, claws, heels, and demeanor, the leader of the Spider Society often looked like a big cat. Grumpy, territorial, asocial.

When he wasn't out in the field shutting down an anomaly, he stayed in his office, growling when someone came uninvited, and even when they were invited. 

It was hard to be close to him, but many of them tried. Some managed it, a bit, like Jess and Peter. Y/N too according to them, although she wasn't always sure.

 She remained hopeful, telling herself that if she really bothered him, he would have sent her back to her dimension a long time ago.

Even when she stood against him during the Miles affair, she was the only one not to be sent back to her universe. He didn't change his mind, but he listened to her, mumbling and sighing, because she didn't understand anything, but he didn't yell at her, he didn't threaten her, and she wasn't thrown into a portal. 

But maybe he hadn't done it yet because he wasn't cruel. Y/N had no one in her dimension. People didn't like her, they saw her as a criminal, she had no friends, her crush (whom she hadn't even held hands once) had died falling from a roof.

The spider society was the best thing that had happened to her, and without her being able to explain why, she really wanted to be close to Miguel, the big cat.

Y/N wondered if it was irony when it was she who was turned into a cat by an anomaly. She had barely had time to teleport to HQ and now she was meowing desperately through the halls, trying to find someone who could help her.

Of course, it had to be the big cat.

It was always difficult to know what Miguel was thinking. He spoke little, and his face didn't often show emotion, except when he was angry. Very angry.

Regarding the animals, it was also difficult to know what he thought of them. There were Animal Spiders, but it wasn't the same. He treated Ham, Spider-cat and T-rex with respect, talking to them as if they were human.

Real animals were different.

     "Hola." he said calmly, with his monotonous tone, approaching her. "Are you lost, little thing ?"

     "Meow !" was the only answer Y/N could give him.

     "Don't be afraid, amor. How did you get in here?  Someone took you ? Well, whatever. You must be thirsty. Come with me."

Y/N had already seen Miguel with Peter's baby, and some children during missions. She knew he could be sweet. But he had never been like this with her, so it was a surprise to find herself in his arms.

He carried her to his office, where he offered her some water, before putting her on his lap and stroking her head. Dreamy. Y/N couldn't help purring. Eyes closed, enjoying the feeling, she didn't see him smile. Miguel never smiled.

     "Lyla." he said pressing down on his computer. "Find out whose cat this is and how it got into HQ."

     "I'm waiting."

     "... Please."

     "Right away, boss !"

As his virtual assistant disappeared to complete her task, Miguel continued to pat her head while concentrating on the screens of his many computers.

Most of them showed universes where certain anomalies had been reported, and which he watched very carefully. Others from the universes of spiders who had caused problems, like Miles, or who needed to rest, like Jess. There were images of a variant of Miguel with a little girl. And there was a screen with Y/N.

She stared at it, suddenly stopping purring, surprised to see herself here and not understanding why.

Like the big cat that he was, Miguel took note, looking down at her.

     "What ? Do you want something, amor ?"

     "Meow !"

     “Hmm. Oh, her ? A nuisance, don't worry."

     "You mean your tu pequeño favorito, tu dulce sueño, tu..."

     "Lyla !" Miguel growled, waving his hand to blur the apparition, which made her laugh even more. "Shut up."

     "Okay, I won't say anything about your secret. And I couldn't find anything on the cat, the cameras had a weird reception problem, and then we can see it hanging around the halls."

     "It's not normal, find the reason for this concern. And... I don't want any comment, but I thought that Y/N had to take care of an anomaly. It's been several hours, she doesn't didn't send in her report. Did she come back ?"

     "I think so ? Her watch beeped in this dimension. I'm inquiring, boss ! Don't panic, I'm sure your querida isn't far."

     "Callate, idiota !"

Sometimes Peter B. annoyed everyone by saying that his daughter had magical powers and that holding her in your arms made it possible not to get upset.

Y/N could now tell that her cat version had managed to contain Miguel, who was flushed with rage, visibly ready to destroy everything around him and yell at Lyla, but just breathed very hard, gently holding her against him.

     "I'm sorry, amor... It's fine." he reassured her by patting her neck. "It's just... I'm tired."

There were some things Lyla had said that had troubled Y/N, but the tall spiderman's sad look caught her full attention. She had never seen him like this.

There had been the story of the dimension he had destroyed. Moments when he stared into space. The huge Morales disaster, when some wondered if the spider society still had a reason to exist if their leader made so many mistakes.

Luckily, the majority had come to Miguel's defense, because as spiders they had all made mistakes, lots of mistakes, always thinking they were making the right decision and wanting to do good. Y/N was one of those.

Their support had seemed to please Miguel, even if he had hesitated to give up his place and go into exile. Since then, he had made efforts, he had been more careful.

Even if he continued to behave like an aggressive and grumpy feline with the younger ones who hurt themselves a little too much, and with Y/N who loved to tease him, and who also hurt herself a bit, sometimes.

     "Meow." she said, rubbing her nose against Miguel's face, which brought up a sad smile.

     "Thank you, mi amor. that's nice. I thought after Morales... But there are always anomalies. Always worlds to save. And always... Why can't she pay attention ? It's although she protects the little ones, like she protected Miles. She was right, I should have listened to her, but I couldn't risk destroying the entire multiverse for one man if she was wrong."

     "I know, you already told me." tried to say Y/N. "Except that you were wrong, you never really said it, because you're too proud."

     "Exactly. I knew you would understand. I didn't want to hurt the kid, or anyone. It was a shock when I saw his dad get up and everything was fine. So I thought I could... We could... But no, it's still too risky. And I don't think she'll want to. But she could at least take care of her own safety ! Mierda ! I've already lost... Everyone I love die. I don't want this to happen to her. I'm tired, amor. So tired."

Since he hadn't said her name, Y/N wondered if he was still talking about her, because she found it hard to believe that Miguel O'Hara, big lonely cat, was talking about love, and especially the love he felt for her.

If she teased him so often and wanted to be close to him, it wasn't because she was sociable. It was for another reason that seemed ridiculous and stupid. Until now.

Without realizing it, she had started to purr again, clinging to his neck. That seemed to help him a bit, as Miguel stopped shaking, caressing her and muttering a few words in Spanish.

It worked, until Lyla came back.

     "Uh... Boss ?"

     "What ?" Miguel muttered, keeping his face in Y/N's fur.

     "Uh... No one knows where Y/N is."

     "... What ?"

     "Her watch beeped here, but we can't track it. No trace of her, no one saw her. The anomaly she was supposed to capture was attached, but not brought back."

     "No. No no no !"

This time the cat was forgotten, placed on the desk for Miguel to get up quickly and run around the building, not knowing that the person he was looking for had been on his lap for almost an hour. And Y/N had no way to make it clear to him, not having her powers to follow him, and Spidercat not being there to do the translation.

She wandered all the same in the corridors of the Spider society, crossing several spiders which caressed her all the head before continuing to seek her.

At the end of the day, they all gathered in the cafeteria, Miguel in the middle, mumbling, shaking, rubbing his eyes trying to stay calm.

     "... No one found her ?"

     "No." replied Peter B., touching his shoulder. "Gwen, Miles, Hobbie and Pav went to town. Jess and Ben looked into other dimensions. I searched the whole building with the others."

     "... But her watch is there. The anomaly was captured and unconscious. If she... Where is she ? Peter, where is she ?!"

     "Calm down, Miggie. Y/N is gifted, smart and strong. I'm sure she's fine."

     "What if she's not fine ?!" Miguel shouted, baring his fangs. "If she's hurt, or worse ?! I shouldn't have sent her on a mission alone ! I should have..."

     "Do you want to hold Mayday ? It would be nice if you held Mayday."

     "I don't want to hold your baby, estúpido, I want to find Y/N ! Where's Y/N ?!"

     "Meow."

All the spiders then looked at Y/N, who had sat by Miguel's feet and was staring at him, purring. At first they thought it was cute. Then they wondered how a cat had entered the building.

And then, Miguel the first, they understood.

     "... Y/N ?"

Normally, Miguel would have been reassured, while completely panicked by realizing that he had said a lot of things to Y/N in passing that she was a cat, and he would have gone and locked himself in his office asking Jess to find a solution, unable to face the situation.

It was a surprise for Y/N to find herself back in his arms, the big cat hugging her tenderly, caressing her neck and holding back what looked like sobs.

     "Amor, I believed... I believed... Never do that again."

Throughout all the examinations and searches for a solution, he held her against his chest, growling when someone tried to take her from him.

It didn't take long for Lyla to figure out how the anomaly had transformed Y/N, and how to return her to her normal form. It was then that Miguel went to hide in his office, refusing to see anyone. Especially Y/N.

The big shy cat was sulking again in his corner.

Luckily, thanks to Hobbie, Y/N knew how to get in without being spotted. Very useful for pranking and annoying the boss. Very useful also to force him to have a discussion about his feelings.

     "Hi Mig !"

     "… What do you want ? Give me your report on your last mission ?" he asked without turning around.

     "Oh, that. Yes, why not ? So, I found the anomaly, I caught it, but they turned me into a cat, I ended up in the spider society where a big sulky cat took good care me, because he has a soft heart under his muscles, and he loves me very much."

Y/N smiled then, waiting for a reaction, but nothing. Miguel continued to stare at his screens, showing no sign of annoyance or anger. She then guessed the face he was making. She jumped on the platform, near him.

Contrary to what she had thought, he did not move. He didn't hide his moist eyes, his sad and broken expression. He stood there, waiting for her to laugh at him and tell him that he was stupid, that he had made another mistake, that he had no right to be happy, to have someone, because anyway as soon as he loved someone, that person was hurt.

     "And I love that ridiculous big cat a lot too. Lyla has found a cure, I'm me again and hopefully the big cat will come out of his den to come and have a coffee with me at the cafeteria ?"

This time, Miguel turned a little towards her, looking lost.

     "... End of the report ? Happy ? We did a great job, it really deserves a coffee."

     "Y/N..."

     "For real. Great teamwork. We'll have to do this again. Well, not the part where I'm transformed, nor the part where you're scared because you thinl that I'm dead, but the long talk about feelings, the hugs, the purrs. It was mostly me, but I'm pretty sure you were purring too at some point."

     "Y/N."

     "I understood what you were scared of, and I guess I was scared of the same thing, and that's why you're avoiding me, and I wasn't trying to be more than your friend, but actually..."

     "If I say yes to coffee, will you stop talking so much ?"

     "No. Maybe. I do talk when I'm drinking, but it's rare, and I'm a bit cold afterwards because my clothes are wet. It's difficult to talk and drink at the same time."

Miguel sighed, frowning at his eyes, as he often did, but Y/N saw that he was hiding a small smile behind his hand.

He agreed to follow her to the cafeteria, where he sat across from her to watch her drink her coffee and listen to her talk over and over. The other spiders were intrigued, because the boss never came to the cafeteria.

Peter B. took a photo, because according to him it was important to have memories of the first date.

     "It's not a date." muttered Miguel.

     "My heart is bleeding, Mig. Ouch. I thought we had something special."

     "It's just a coffee. For our first date, we'll go to the best restaurant in Nueva York, not the tower."

     "Aaaaw, Miggie."

     "I have pictures of Miguel holding cat Y/N."

Letting Peter take pictures was obviously not a problem for Miguel. But when Miles had finished his sentence, he turned to the young spider, who didn't seem to see the problem.

     "What ? That was so cute ! It looked like a cat daddy with his baby cat !"

     "I agree. I have pictures too." Lyla said as she appeared near the kid. "A lot."

     "... Erase them."

     "Send them to me." said almost all the other spiders at the same time. 

     "Morales."

     "It's sent !"

     "Miguel, don't start chasing the kid again !" Peter shouted as he followed them down the halls.

Y/N let them, knowing that Miguel wouldn't hurt Miles. He was only furious that evidence of his vulnerable side existed, because like cats, he was proud and stupid. So she finished her coffee waiting for him to come back to shyly ask her when they could go on their real first date.

[itsgrimeytime]

Maneater (Part One) || Rick Grimes (TWD)

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Dialogue Prompts: "Don’t play friendly with me." + "Try me."

Summary: You and Rick Grimes had a backstory, one no one knew except you and him. It's one you refused to share, you never really wanted to get into it. All anyone needed to know was you hated the man. When you're in a rough spot, and you could use the shelter the question is... does he hate you?

TWS: Blood, gore, mentions of death, gun violence (just violence in general), swearing, angst, a touch of abandonment, grudges, and all things typical of TWD.

[[A/N: y'all ever heard of TENSION?? Or enemies to lovers??? Because I'll tell you what, I have :))) Lowkey, you have a good reason to hate Rick, but like... you'll see. also I am living in delusion for what Rick looked like in the Alexandria timeline, so just know I picture the gif, okay? Thx <3 ]]

Before you go thinking this is another long series, this is just a two/maybe three-parter. There was more to this idea than what I felt I could naturally convey in one one-shot. So, let me know if you want to be tagged for the continuation.

"Shit."

This really, truly, was never supposed to happen. This was the worst-case scenario, the kind of thing that plagued your dreams with things that were so not probable they shouldn't be scary. And yet here you were, in nightmare territory.

"Y/N? Really, is that- is that you?" the familiar face spoke -Glenn, you realized now.

God, it had been so long, you'd thought for sure at least half of that group had vanished.

Well, maybe they had. You weren't exactly sure, but Glenn hadn't really looked worse for wear. He suited the lifestyle well, actually, which you were a little impressed by -the pizza delivery guy had come a long way.

"We thought you..." he faltered off, still a bit in disbelief.

"Died? Nope," you finished, bitter, sure, but you'd never really had the chance to get over it, "-despite your wonderful leader's best efforts, I remain unscathed."

Glenn frowned.

The joy from moments before dissipated in the now fairly tense air between the two of you -others you recognized weren't there, but you imagined they were wherever he came from. Which you were currently trying to keep in the very back of your mind -you'd never follow him to them, you just couldn't.

"I should've..." he began, words seeming to come to a stop, "-Any of us should've stuck up for you. It wasn't right."

There was a bit of pleasure hearing that, somewhere deep in your chest, you appreciated it. But while the idea was good, it was very much too late. The resentment that had developed in your chest, had only solidified there -unbreakable and set in stone. You hadn't trusted a soul since, not fully anyway.

This world was filled with broken hearts, and yours was one of them.

And that was something Rick and his group had to live with, whoever they were now because that... was their fault.

You hadn't meant to hate Rick Grimes specifically, above everyone else, but the words came out of his mouth.

'Get out of here, we can't... we can't have a group this divided.'

You could still see him now in your head, clean-shaven and dressed in his uniform, taking the world by storm despite not knowing what the fuck he was doing. You were different then, scared but ready to do what you needed -hell, the first time you'd ever even held a gun was against a walker. It was with that group, they'd taught you.

You swallowed down the bile in your throat, and pushed through the rubble -your feet ached from being on the move for so long. You couldn't remember the last time you slept, or even sat down.

You couldn't not in this world, it was all about motion, about survival, about getting through the next few hours at a time.

"Look, I know you're upset, and you have every right to be," Glenn began -following you close behind, "-but we have a place... It's safe, you could sleep. You could eat. There are houses, hot water-"

You froze in place, the idea spreading a sort of warmth in your chest, something you'd forgotten somewhere along the path. Hope. Yet, there was still a sting there -deep under your skin, "Glenn-"

"It doesn't have to be forever," he added, and now that you looked at him, he did seem clean -his clothes washed and the desperation that dusted your skin was so distant you could hardly see it, "-just for a few days."

Feet frozen to the spot, you exhaled -the breath shaking you to the root, it had been so long, but how could you trust him? How could you trust any of them?

You remembered Glenn had looked hesitant, that day, his own suspicion drawn in his eyebrows but it hadn't gone farther than that. He hadn't said a word. No one had. But now, he was here offering solace, safety. And you knew it wasn't just out of pity.

The world had enough of that on its own. You had enough of that on your own, your story spilling to listening ears -they'd all been the same. Still, you could use a break.

And as much as you didn't trust the group, whatever it had become, you knew that if anyone had survived this long -they'd been skilled. Skilled enough for you to breathe, for you to close your eyes and sleep.

You sighed, wiping the sleep from your eyes, or rather the lack of, "Just a few days?"

"As long as you need," Glenn reiterated, somehow conveying that you never had to leave, it was a small thing. But comforting.

"I get to decide when to leave?"

Glenn frowned, his own body almost shrinking in on itself, disappointment. You'd never thought you'd see this, someone from so long ago -the regret, the remorse, "Yeah, of course."

And you were thinking about it. As your joints ached and your throat burned for water, the breeze felt cold against your bones, and you truly couldn't imagine it getting any warmer. The sun setting only meant it could get colder, and you were currently without a roof.

"Okay," you quietly agreed, despite the churning in your stomach saying otherwise.

That was when one of the others, neither of which you knew, spoke, "But, didn't Rick say-"

"Shut it," Glenn exhaled, tone icy and you suddenly realized maybe they were new to him too.

The walk was long, not grueling since Glenn had known exactly where he was going -he'd always had that sense of direction though. You remembered the early days when he'd been the one to volunteer to go back to the city, he'd known so much. Maybe he was just made that way? Or it was some sort of thing they'd invented. It had been a long time.

"There's a few of us that'll be happy to see you," Glenn spoke, casually walking beside you as the other two paired off behind you.

You swallowed the tensing of your shoulders, the last time you'd been in a group it hadn't ended well, and every time before that too actually. You didn't meld well with groups, let's just say that.

"I don't think so," you hummed, remembering so far back in your brain that day -the eyes all set on you, strong and decisive. You couldn't imagine who else survived other than Rick Grimes himself. Because this world wasn't what you expected, you shouldn't have survived more that a week... but here you were.

Glenn didn't say anything else, you assumed he noticed your more pressed tone -as the opposite of an invitation to keep talking. It stung a bit, watching the man's face solemn considerably, but there was also a sick part of your brain that had been waiting for this day.

As you approached the new community, Glenn spread out his hands -with a voice close to an announcer, "Welcome to Alexandria!"

Alexandria was big, bigger than you thought really. When you pictured the homes, there was bordered up windows and broken glass -blood stained into the wood. But these?

They were almost pristine.

Your head spun as you made your way through the gate, Glenn casually guiding you through the space without much forethought. It seemed he'd known this daze, he'd experienced it himself, maybe?

You knew how this world was, Alexandria seemed to be a new wave of something fresh.

Actually, you'd seen signs once or twice but never pursued it. Things like that didn't quite work in this world, you were scared of what it may truly have been. But Glenn had brought you hear with the promise of a bed to sleep in, so you assumed whatever kinks were there had already been worked out.

Or maybe you hoped they would.

In your haze, you hadn't noticed the two other members bump ahead -headed straight for a particular place, you assumed. Nor did you really notice Glenn kind of easily navigating in front of you.

Until, you heard the voice you'd vowed to never hear until the day you died.

"Glenn?" the drawl was deeper now, older and a touch more dangerous, "-The others told me you brought someone back, I thought we talked about-"

"Rick," Glenn interrupted, voice steady and calm -he had been prepared for this, "-it's Y/N."

There was silence there, as you trailed your fingers along the trim of the house ever-so-gently -the dirt stained into your fingertips didn't need to smudge there. It would've ruined it.

"What?" His voice was low, and despite how much you wished you could understand the tone, you couldn't -you didn't know him.

He could be angry, in disbelief, in shock. You had no clue, instead focusing on the ivy running up the sides of some of the houses -rubbing the leaves with your thumb, muttering, "Wow."

"Y/N?"

You blinked out of your haze, stilling at the direct contact with you -it felt odd, hearing your name out of his mouth. So familiar yet, so so far off. Yet, the sting still burned deep under your skin -it would probably never go away.

Without turning around, you acknowledged him simply -direct and without much other force, "Rick."

Then the space grew even quieter, the tension laying thick into the air -you could feel it set the prickling of goosebumps on your skin.

With a heavy breath, you turned around -equipped to set your eyes on his skin.

He looked... different. His hair was much longer, curled at the nape of his neck, and he had a beard -now littered with grey. It suited him, he'd been too uptight back then, now though, he'd seemed more adjusted.

"Y/N, I-" he began, and you could hear it -the pity, the 'I'm sorry'. You couldn't take it, not from him. Not now.

It was too late, it made you want to rip your hair out. And thrash and cry and scream. Scream for all you'd lost, scream for the fear you felt that day, pushed into the woods -separated.

You spoke, pushing back the bite in your tone as much as you could, "Don't play friendly with me. I'm here for a few days, at most."

Rick's mouth snapped shut, jaw setting. He seemed frustrated, but that was hardly your problem, the whole thing was his really. He could die with that regret, aching to give an apology for his wrongdoings... and you would let him.

The area, which you now realized was slowly filtering people in, eyes all beginning to focus on you and Rick. Questioning, mostly, but you figured any pushback on Rick and you'd end up dead. So, you pushed back -the strength of your tone settling and the brush of the cold warming.

You didn't need to make enemies.

And then you heard it, a familiar voice, older than you'd expected, you'd known that voice younger... what was-

"Y/N?"

Your breath stuttered, as you spun on your feet and there he was, taller and older, "Carl? Oh my god-"

You hadn't even thought about it, that where Rick was Carl would follow. You had less than high hopes that he'd even survive this far, and yet, here he was right in front of you.

You'd known Carl early on in the group, he had been so young. Lori needed help sometimes, and she'd grown close to you, so, pretty quickly, she'd trusted you with him. In the early days, he was stuck to your side -playing games with the sticks and rocks you could find nearby, giving him comfort when his Mom seemed too far to touch -she was often like that. Her eyes were far, and her mind farther.

Without much less of an introduction, he ran to you with ease, despite the filth you must've been covered in. Especially compared to him, who seemed to be as perfectly clean as the rest of them. He ran into you, arms wrapping tight around your figure -and god, he was so much taller. You bit back a sob, how much had you missed?

"I thought you were dead," he spoke, muttering into your shoulder and his hands gripping desperately at your shirt.

You remembered the tiny version of him kicking and screaming, 'Why do they have to leave, Dad?!' He had been crying so hard his body was shaking, they practically had to tear him off you. You'd told them you'd leave in the night when he was sleeping, so it wouldn't be so hard on him. He couldn't put up as much of a fight if he wasn't there.

"You've gotten so tall," you laughed, pulling back and wiping at your eyes -gesturing to his stature.

Carl laughed too, wiping away his own tears.

You forgot for a second where you were, and how long it had been. Only reuniting with someone you cared tremendously about. The moment was bittersweet with the eyes of many sliding across your figure, the scar detailed across your arm, or maybe the bandage wrapped around your head. You'd had some run-ins, but you'd taken care of them with what you could.

The next few days were a bit stuffy, the doctor (who you didn't bother to learn the name of) had been keeping a close eye on you -consistently telling you to rest and sticking the one and only sheriff on you when you resisted.

Apparently, she thought that it was the best idea.

The single thread that didn't have you running out of this place wore a sheriff's hat and seemed to relish in your arrival. Carl had been by your side frequently, introducing you to practically everyone (including Glenn's wife, Maggie, what-) -which you had originally been strictly against, but the kid was your soft spot.

You'd felt more at ease after a run-in with two familiar faces, Daryl and Carol. They both did similarly to Carl, and you couldn't seem to fault them too much. Not at that moment anyway. It was midday and Carl had run off with some people his own age, which you refused to separate him from that. It was important, he needed it.

And you needed something too.

The space felt cramped, with someone constantly looking over your shoulder and someone else always in your area. It was a far cry from your previous loner life where your days fell to silence and the slice of whatever your blade was echoed through it. Before Glenn, you hadn't spoken out loud in months.

So, with new energy from the hot water and regular meals, you'd found yourself roaming the streets towards the fence. Just for a sense of normalcy, you needed to taste the adrenaline, feel the blade in your hands, and the urgency in your movements. Dancing with death.

Trying to watch your back, you kept your eyes behind you -ducking behind some of the unused houses that you'd scouted out earlier in the day. It wasn't like you were leaving forever, just a few hours that's all you needed.

"And where are you going?"

You jumped, turning to the sound in front of you, and because god simply hated you it happened to belong to one Rick Grimes. His eyes leveled with you, standing confidently in your way like he'd expected you. And shit, maybe he had.

Stammering, you regained your composure, "Where's Carl?"

"Asleep," he responded with ease.

"Look, I'm not-" you groaned, "-Why are you keeping me here like a prisoner?"

"Doctor told me to keep an eye on ya," he answered, once again too prepared, it infuriated you to no bounds, "-you don't think I'd notice you scopin' out an exit?"

"That's not-" you straightened your posture, pressing your lips into a thin line, "I don't have to explain myself to you. So, kindly, if you would get out of my way, I'll be back in an hour."

Rick chuckled, not in a really joyful way either, neither of you was quite joking, "Yeah, not happenin'."

"Rick," you echoed, tone ice and hand tightening on where your blade rested on your hip -a handmade hilt someone had made you a long time ago, "-move, or I'll make you."

He paused, licking a line across his teeth, and slowly making his way into your space. Your breath caught in your throat, but you stayed strong in your place -eyes set on his and shoulders set in place. He didn't speak until his face was right in yours, a breath away, and his expression remained unchanged -his eyes only betraying the heaviness of his words, "Try me."

Rick didn't reach for his gun, which sat with was at his hip -inches from his hands. You knew he wouldn't pull it on you, it wasn't in his character, but there was a chill in his tone -something new.

What happened to him?

You washed out the worry that settled under your skin for a second, that didn't need to be there. He'd abandoned you -they all had.

Setting your jaw, you exhaled -pulling back and letting your hand fall to your side, "Look, I just need an hour."

Rick stared at you, you couldn't read him -years of age, and most likely tragedy by the missing faces, gracing features you once knew. And even then, he was new -you hadn't known him.

"This place is-" you faltered off, looking back to the houses, where most lights were switched off in the dark -except for just a few spare ones, "-suffocating. I've been on my own for so long, I feel like I'm having an out-of-body fucking experience here. This isn't... I need something familiar."

He still hadn't said a word.

"So," you began, strong, before deflating, "-just let me kill some of the dead, yeah?"

Rick pursed his lips, before sighing deep and heavily, "Okay."

You opened your mouth to rebuttal, before the words set in, "Okay?"

"Just let me tell Michonne and Daryl I won't be around for a bit," he continued, seeming to waltz on past you, and then those words hit you.

"Rick, I don't need a babysitter," you answered, that lick of bitterness slinking through your skin again -your mouth opened before you could stop it, "-you weren't worried years ago, were you? Why now?"

He stopped in his motion, frozen solid by your words. A part of you felt vindicated, he deserved it -it may have been years for him, but that was the way your way in this world had started.

You hadn't expected him to speak, but he did.

"You can't do that."

A flash of frustration hummed under your skin -burning hot and bright -who was he to say anything to you, "I can't do that? Do what? Talk about what you did to me? The day you kicked me to the curb at the beginning of the fucking apocalypse...?"

"I've been tryin' to apologize since you got here-" he started, tone angry in the way of hands shaking not voice raising, "-you won't let me."

Something in you snapped.

"So what?" you started, tone shaky and you'd say it was for rage but you could feel the tears burning behind your eyes, "You think I want an apology from you?"

Rick looked lost then, and something in you begged to keep going. The dam was cracked now, and the water could flood out -who better than the man who hit the nail in the coffin, "What...?"

"You, you don't get the resolution that would get you. You don't get to sleep well at night because you said sorry, no."

He didn't speak.

You laughed, the tears were free now, years of being locked behind something as thick as the shell you wore after that day -your breaths were ragged and you felt like maybe your heart would be out of your chest, "I never wanted to live through this."

"Y/N-"

And there was something there in those words, heavy and gravelly against the cool night air. But you couldn't dwell on it. You had too much to say to him, to all of them really, but just him would do.

"No," you exhaled, taking a deep shaky breath in, "-Rick, I just need to know one thing."

He opened his mouth, assumedly to answer your question, but you still couldn't let him speak. Your brain was going so fast, you had to keep up.

"Did you ever ask them why?"

Rick spoke then, slowly, "Who?"

"Shane," you spoke, the air seemed to get heavier, "-and Lori. Did it never seem odd to you that it came out at the same time? That they'd both seen me that exact same day?"

Rick stilled, and his jaw seemed to set.

That was what had gotten you kicked out, Shane and Lori had alleged you'd taken more supplies for yourself -stolen from everyone. You weren't sure of the specifics, whether it be an extra graham cracker or a tissue to wipe your busted lip, as you didn't let them get too far into it. They'd been egging him on, Shane on some sort of masculine level and Lori using their love as a pawn -you'd seen it clear as day. Rick hadn't.

"I was going to tell you," you spoke quietly, barely a brush over the wind of the chillier nights.

He didn't have to ask what. He knew you assumed he had known pretty much immediately after you noticed their absences. Something had happened, maybe not long after you'd left. You could only assume so much.

"I didn't know," he echoed out, his voice strained in a way you'd never heard from him -pained, regretful.

Without much else, you turned back the way you came -voice steady and strong across the space between you two, "I know."

[the-devil-less-known]

For someone who was supposed to be the King of Hell, Lord of Unholy Legions, Demon of Demons, Strongest of All in Hellfire... Lucifer appeared mildly out of place in the hotel foyer, still trying to decide how he wanted to approach this. Approach that thorn in his side the size of a prong on an antler.

Saying that he was grateful would be a step too far, not for someone so.... dubious at best. How could Lucifer be anything but suspicious of this sinner?

Maybe if Alastor was a little more stupid, maybe if he did anything but wear that mask of a smile, maybe if he made mistakes Lucifer could pick at, then the King wouldn't feel so uneasy having someone like that so close to his heart: Charlie.

His little light could preach a real convincing argument, a good story that made you want to sit up and listen. Once she stopped speaking at you but to you personally, that is. A gift of the mind and heart nurtured by her mother, taught by the very best on compelling performances... Except to the Princess, it was all in truth, sincere vulnerability and hope for all on display.

With Charlie, it was everything but the very soul itself, leaving the likes of Alastor the Radio Demon to attach themselves to that.

Lucifer had shared his reservations in the past with her life's mission; his deep unease, about all the implications and truths involving their "people". Both before and after Lilith stopped touring. Even finally explained the unique circumstances of the Pride Ring sinners and the Exterminations... All for naught.

It's easy to be "supportive", to buoy her up and bolster that red-hot passionate fire to give out good to the world, encourage her to continue breaking out into song and showmanship flare, make the soul thump and feet stamp in tune... all to the beat of unsustainable naïvety. Get the Princess attached to gain her implicit trust and gain that "love" that makes a person do anything for their "friend". Their enabler.

Lucifer knows well the precarious position he stands in, how easily he could be sidelined as a distant observer in her self destructive life again... and be replaced from being father and guidance to follow. Left only in formality, the King of Hell she could always call on and bend the ear to. That was all.

So, here he was, in the midst of this lion's pit, with only his wits about Himself, knowing very well how he must tread in Charlie's "territory" with one of her "people". No killing, no maiming, no real overt "threats"; Alastor untouchable — for the moment.

But just like anything in this life, including Lucifer Himself, this sinner was replaceable. And in battles of words and riddles, threading the thin line between truth and misdirection, he could maintain the veneer of polite civility with the best of them. Heaven knew well the path unspoken and the smiles that hid strife underneath...

Alastor wouldn't be making any deals anytime soon with that ghastly chain around his neck, but Lucifer didn't need that. Only a few chats, a few answers, a few insights on Charlie's left hand man, and how his... indispensable assistance could be outshown and made redundant.

“Ah, look, it's our local neighborhood friendly hotelier ! You look unoccupied. And it seems you now have a guest... You'll indulge me, of course?”

@radioiaci

[midnight-bay-if]

How would the Ro’s react if they accidentally hurt Mc physically or emotionally in like a heated argument, and how would they react after this all blows over? (wait till Mc approach them or goes to them)

This wasn't necessarily specific to whether the ROs were dating the MC. Since the answer would be universally 'they are devastated' if that were the case, it might be more interesting to answer this at the crushing stage.

S: S isn't used to getting heated at all. Even if they're angry at something their team members have done (usually Taj), it usually only takes one stare from them to end the argument completely. But one clumsy comment later, and that was it. A full-blown argument. They've never seen the MC like that before. It was difficult to watch. Even more difficult to partake in. They've been pacing the same square foot of floor since the whole thing blew up. It's really not like them to lose their composure, and now that they have, all they want to do is take it back.

Eventually, S will bring MC their preferred drink, take a deep breath and offer an apology. They aren't the type to leave things uncomfortable.

Rain: This is a difficult one to imagine in the first place. Rain is always careful with their words, but sometimes, culturally human things can be a bit of a shock. So, I can see them accidentally blundering into dangerous territory with the MC. But as soon as the MC got upset, they would instantly apologise. In their efforts to fix it, if MC isn't ready to hear it, it could blow up worse. If that happened, Rain would be truly devastated. The self-loathing would start to sneak in as they lay curled up in a ball. Taj would get pretty defensive on Rain's behalf if that happened.

At that point, S would need to coach them to calm down, explain the mistake, and offer suggestions for getting through it.

Taj: Taj is going to give as good as they get. If you start snapping at them, they're going to snap back. It's instinctual, even if they're the reason you're blowing up at them. It would take S breaking up the fight for them to finally storm off to somewhere high up, quiet, and isolating. Once their blood has calmed, they will finally reflect on the argument with a heavy heart.

If it was their fault, they might find you later when you're alone. They won't apologise exactly, but they might offer to buy your favourite snack as a pick-me-up. However, if they feel you're at fault, you will have to approach them first.

N: Amid the fight, N will just be amused. 'Oh, how adorable. They're all worked up,' they'll think as they continue goading you. Since they're stuck with you anyway, they might as well get some entertainment out of you. Except, later on, when you refuse to talk to them, refuse to look at them, and Umbra has been giving them the most murderous glare all day, they might finally approach you with an apology.

It's only because they don't want to be murdered, though... right?

Umbra: The way this would almost kill Umbra. Umbra would never purposefully hurt MC, but that doesn't mean they won't accidentally. So, when MC looks at them with the most grief-stricken stare they have ever seen, Umbra runs away to hide. How could they do that? They made a vow. They should have known better. Something as monstrous as they are could never be anything but wicked.

Umbra would be too ashamed to approach the MC first.