#get high on rotten meat

[morverenmaybewrites]

Domestic Arkham!Jason Todd Headcanons

Y’all ever think about the inherent tragedy of Arkham!Jason craving something as simple as domesticity? 

How he craves the comfort of home-cooked meals, but can’t actually eat anything he hasn’t prepared himself. Because during his time in Joker’s captivity, almost everything he was served was either poisoned or rotten, and now every time he eats, it’s like he’s expecting the burn of poison or the flavor of something sour and rotten flooding his mouth.

Can you imagine the frustration he must feel at his inability to share a simple meal with you? 

The sudden clench in his gut when he realizes that he wasn’t there to watch you prepare the food, and despite the fact that he trusts you, he can’t help that familiar dread rising in the back of his throat. 

Jason tries, for you, he tries. 

But there are times, more often than not, when he feels the phantom burn of poison or the flavor of something sour and rotten flooding his mouth–and his body reacts before his mind does. 

And suddenly he’s hunched over the sink or the toilet, vomiting out half-digested food, and it’s almost like he never left Arkham Asylum.

Can you imagine the absolute burning jealousy he feels whenever his family interacts with you with an ease he can only dream of? 

Maybe it’s a movie night, during one of those rare times when Gotham City didn’t need saving, and there’s Tim and Dick and Barbara piled on the couch. And you fit so well with them–a tangle of limbs and careless laughter at a dumb joke Dick made–that it’s Jason who feels like an outsider. 

Jason sits apart from all of you, the only person to pick an armchair instead of the couch, because every time he tries to sit close to someone, all he can think is whether they’re close enough to see his scars.

The table is piled high with snacks, more than the five of you can realistically eat in an evening. There’s popcorn and pizza, mozzarella sticks and pretzels, several bars of chocolate that can only be found in Bludhaven, the air is thick with the smell of grease and cheese dust. 

And it’s almost like being a teenager again. Before that night and the Joker and everything else that followed. 

It’s almost like being a teenager again, dizzy with the good fortune of being adopted by Bruce fucking Wayne, watching some dumb flick with his siblings when he was supposed to be training. Ordering takeout food and laughing along with Dick at Alfred’s visible disappointment as they stuff their faces. 

It’s almost like being a teenager again, but not quite. 

Jason watches the four of you pass around a bowl of popcorn, arguing about which genre of movie to start with. But when Barbara tries to hand it to him, he feels a sudden clot of heat in his chest, and he’s already shaking his head before he even knows why. 

And he realizes, he’s afraid. 

He doesn’t know who made the food or what restaurant it was ordered from, and he is sure if he asks, no one would be able to give him all of the names of people who handled it. 

The burn of poison and the taste of something sour and rotten flooding his mouth.

Poisoned cake and rotting rats. The writhing of pale white maggots against bone and glistening meat and gristle.

He doesn’t touch anything for the rest of the evening.

Can you imagine how scared he is? 

Jason is so acutely, painfully aware of how exhausting it is to be with him. To be with someone you can’t even share a simple meal with. 

And he wonders how long it will be before you get tired of him.

Bruce, after all, had left after he had seen the twisted thing Jason had become. 

And if his own father couldn’t even stomach his presence–

And suddenly he’s hunched over again, over the sink or against the toilet, vomiting out half-digested food. 

And it really is like he never left Arkham Asylum after all.

This is what he thinks, when he finally collapses on the tiles of your bathroom floor, cold sweat pouring down his face. Your presence hovering over him like a ghost, a thousand apologies pouring from your throat. 

But it’s not you that’s the problem, it’s him. 

It’s this awful thing in the back of his head, always expecting the next threat, the next injury, the next sick game the Joker has come up with. 

It’s the fact that his days with the Joker had left him so twisted and strange that he can no longer fit into a normal life, even when he wants to. 

And this is what he thinks, when you catch the way he is not watching the movie at all. But instead he is looking at his family’s faces, his chest pulsing with a jealousy so fierce it might as well have been his heartbeat.

Jason wishes–oh, how he wishes–it was that easy, that simple for him. 

You disentangle yourself from his siblings–Dick had already fallen asleep, head lolling heavily on your shoulder, to pad your way to him. You sink down onto the armchair to share it with him, practically on top of him, and he marvels at the way your heat dispels the chill that has crept over him. 

Your hands are small compared to his, but they are just big enough that when you lay them atop of his, he does not have to think about whether you can see the scars. 

This is what he thinks, on days like these. It is something he always thinks, a small voice in the back of his head that is never silenced.  

He doesn't deserve you. 

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

Thanks to @red--pirate for the idea!

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #arkham knight x reader #it's all right jason i've been eating the scented candles when no one is looking we're all a little weird #alexa play “my love is sick” #tw ptsd #tw poisoning #tw trauma #tw internalized victim blaming

[puzzled-pegasus]

Here's some silly little metaphors that I think the dragon tribes would use

SkyWings

“Don’t count your clutch before they hatch.” (Don't plan too much too soon)

“Gold is better than silver, but silver is better than nothing.” (If you can't do it perfectly, still try your best. Most dragons forget the second part.)

“‘Sorry’ can't suck the fire back in.” (The damage is done and now you're dead to me.)

“You been eating too much burnt meat or something?” (Are you nuts?)

“Stop all this smoke and use your fire.” (Stop rambling and get to the point already; or stop complaining and do something)

“Doesn't know his tail from his wings.” (Stupid or clumsy)

“You fly like a depressed pigeon.” (Slow flier)

“There's no fire in a rainstorm.” (Stop feeling sorry for yourself and get to work.)

“Nighttime is for the NightWings.” (What are you doing up? Go to sleep.)

SandWings

“She’s all rattle, and no strike.” (Like all bark no bite)

“A diamond in a pile of quartz.” (Like a needle in a haystack)

“You’re watering the cactus and ignoring the sapling.” (You’re focusing on the wrong thing; barking up the wrong tree)

“Everyone thinks the camel looks silly until the dry season comes.” (Don't listen to them, they don't know how unique and strong you are)

MudWings

“Crocodile tears.” (Fake crying in order to gain sympathy)

“You can only catch a trout if your mouth is open.” (Be open to new experiences)

“If the tree gives away too much, it ends up as a stump.” (Don't let people take advantage of your generosity)

SeaWings

“Happy as a clam in high water.” (Very happy)

“The flying fish feels like a fool when it sees an osprey.” (Don't compare yourself to others, run your own race.)

“Plenty of fish in the sea.” (Plenty more opportunities to come.)

“You’ve got ink in your eyes.” (You're blind to something important)

“Lobsters only die when they don't leave their shell.” (Keep yourself busy with new experiences and you'll life a long life)

NightWings

“Sleep is for the dead.” (Why waste your time sleeping when you could be productive)

“SeaWings know their fish and SandWings know their cactuses, but we NightWings know everything else.”(NightWing supremacy propaganda)

“Being nice to a deer never got one in my mouth.” (Other dragons don't matter, only your goals.)

“A prophecy always comes true.” (I told you so but more cryptic)

"You're counting the stars." (You're doing something tedious towards an unachievable goal)

RainWings

“Gray’s her favorite color.” (She's a huge bummer)

“A lemon is yellow on the outside, doesn't mean they're not sour.” (Referring to someone who is two faced or fake)

“I love honey, but I’d rather not get stung by the bees.” (I could do this, but it requires effort so I don't wanna)

“Nobody likes a rotten banana.” (Nobody likes a bummer/downer)

“Don't tie your tail in a knot” (don't get all upset)

“I have all my berries in a basket” (I have everything sorted out)

“You couldn't sneak up on a pineapple” (insult to one's camouflage skills, popular among children)

IceWings

“The seal who asks why the orca is chasing him is the first to get eaten.” (A favorite of parents telling their kids to shut up)

“Not the sharpest icicle on the roof” (kinda stupid or slow)

“Clear as polished ice” (i understand or see it very well)

“You're looking a little pink in the face” (you look sickly. IceWings can turn pink from eating too much krill; a symptom of malnutrition. This line can be applied to any illness.)

“Blue blood kills, red blood spills.” (Patriotic propaganda implying that IceWings win every fight

“The SkyWings toss their blue eyed hatchlings because they're worried they'll be as strong as an IceWing.” (More propaganda)

HiveWings

“Pretty is for the SilkWings.” (Vanity is stupid and impractical)

“If it buzzes like a bug and bites like a bug, it's a bug.” (Don't ignore the obvious)

“Clearsight works in mysterious ways.” (I don't know the answer to your question, now go away)

SilkWings

“It's not always good to know how the honey gets made.” (Don't stick your snout where it doesn't belong)

“She's got a couple of threads loose.” (Calling someone a little crazy, threads refers to weaving)

“The bee minds its flowers and the spider minds her silk, it's when they mix that bad things happen.” (Mind ya business)

LeafWings

“Flytraps only trap because the soil doesn't feed them.” (Dragons don't get angry out of nowhere)

“Looking like a leaf only hides you in the forest.” (Time and place)

“If a branch doesn't bend, it breaks.” (Be flexible)

“Even the corpse flower attracts the flies.” (Even someone who seems ugly to one dragon they can seem irresistible to another)

#wings of fire #wof headcanons #metaphor #idioms

[kiwanopie]

A Lucky Find.

Pure luck, isn’t it? (Geto Suguru x fem!sorcerer!Reader)

cw: yandere if you squint. mention of misogyny and inappropriate work place relationships, graphic descriptions of curses and body horror, death by mutilation involving a curse (Not you), mention of religion, only specifics about reader is that she’s visibly very attractive and may have long hair (no descriptors though, it could be a lace) Suguru is out of his mind. You will not be called a monkey in this one.

wc: 3.9k

You’re not a very talkative assistant.

Granted sometimes you’re inclined to wonder if talking would’ve made so much of a difference to the position you’ve been put in, but you’ve never been a particularly choosy assistant either. You’re great at handling quick business, the calls your boss can’t be bothered to take - studious in your evening planning and you can quick work a coffee run like nobody's business. — You don’t complain about the thin heels they put you in, or the pencil skirts. Mired businessmen with filthy smirks and wondering eyes, or the routine baby talk you get from your degenerate boss. You don’t blink an eye at it. - You sit when you’re told to sit and bark when Mr. Minoru decides to hold that pretty little bone over your head.

“You could use a bonus, huh?”

Today it’s a back rub.

You’re silent as your nimble fingers start to press little groves in his upper back, impassive when he groans. Mr. Minoru, your boss, is a very rich man. He’s the successor of a retired tycoon who was once the successor of another and so forth. He’s an amalgamation of power and fortune and a small legion of nepotism babies that regularly walk in through those mahogany doors just ahead of his desk. An investor, you think. Most conversations he has are about money and the best way to double it; fewer are the ones where he’s actually taking the time out of his schedule to distribute it.

It’s all elite talk. Big men following big men following a perv who believes he’s god. Long outstretched legs that extend as he relaxes himself in his seat and hopes that the movement is enough to encourage you to start on his shoulders.

You like to think you got this job out of pure luck. Met the right man at the right time and stumbled over the deal of a lifetime all for the small cost of a little bit of your dignity. — Not like it was much of a trade from your part time job busing tables at that high-end restaurant. Being yelled at by bratty celebrities at a fraction of the price and coming home smelling reminiscent of a meat locker. Now you’re standing on the top floor of a penthouse suite. Smelling of expensive perfume that your boss totally didn’t break worker/boss relation code for and looking down at the entirety of Tokyo from its bay windows.

Pure luck.

The creature hooked to the upper side of his shoulder unfastens its teeth with a firm graze of your fingers. The steam it emits as it fizzles away is sour.

Mr. Minoru has a pension for starting fights with the wrong people, it seems. With bitter people - scornful people. People who hate him and can’t do anything about it, other than wish him harm or hex him in some way. — Worst are the people who don’t hate him, who envy him. Step into his office with painted smiles and clenched teeth. Who curse his name the moment they leave and leave you to deal with these little “bugs.”

Your nose twitches as its rotten smell encombers. For a moment your pretty face is twisted up in a scowl.

The massages started from an offhand graze of your fingers during a dinner at your old job. Pretty little waitress bending over him in that little work dress and running your finger down his felted coat. You apologize for your familiarity, someone must’ve spilled something on his jacket. ~ But the weight on his back is gone from just that little touch and now he’s offering you a job. You don’t regularly make a habit of helping those you’ve already deemed “afflicted.” But the fucker making goo trails on his back at the time was just disgusting enough to hinder your train of thought, and there’s no way you could’ve gone through your shift without reviling every time you passed his table.

So, now you’re his assistant - and today it’s just a back rub. Thankfully not a request to play with his hair and try not to cringe at the way he shutters from it. A subtle pat on the cheek for his good luck kiss, or a request to sit on his lap while he tells you a story he doesn’t care if you’re listening to. Because you’re quiet.

His not talkative, non-fussy, no complaints assistant.

Like always he fills the empty air in place of your silence. “Ah. By the way, princess. We’ve got a guest coming around after lunch. A real traditional fella. So, we’ll need to be on our best behavior,”

“Apparently he’s got some sort of business opportunity for me in exchange for a few investments,” He sighs when your fingers dip a little under his collar. “Says that in his big fuckin’ haori. Probably cost a few thousand bucks,”

Mr. Minoru shifts his shoulders under your firm touches. “To be completely honest, I don’t really know about it aside from the gag of seeing him in person again. Guy has this weird energy about himself that gives me the creeps. — Says he’s avant-garde. — I just think he’s a weird fuckin’ guy.”

“But,” The exhale he lets out is tempered and whisky tinted, clears out the fresh space in his chest that usually frees up when you’ve got your hands on him. “My old man likes ‘em. Says he’d be good for my health if I kept him around. At the very least build some sorta relationship with him.”

“Too bad my health’s in tip-top shape! Eh, doll-baby?” Minoru twists his head to flash you an expensive smile. Faintly defined cheekbones turning rosy when you return it like you know you’re supposed to. “Got my little guru at my side!”

And your simper, although gentle, is forced. Distantly you wonder if you’re the reason these bugs have become so habitual.

——-

This man is very ill.

Though he walks in with his head held high and a particular spring in his step, your diagnosis is that he must be terminal. He must be diseased and irremediable. In a constant state of agony and so stricken with unwellness that he can’t even think straight. You’ve seen your fair share of “bugs” and rabid disfigured animals that grow out of their hosts like fungus. Some that trail behind like lost children with broken crackling legs - a stench that only accompanies the open wounds whose maggots reach out so helplessly. Disturbing things. For all of it you’ve seen, you’re lucky to say that those cases are few and far in between.

But this,

It has many hands and many faces.

Each accompanied by its own set of teeth. Curling lips that stutter as they rise, etched in lipstick and gum; you find mint leaves hidden in the valley of its tongue, coiling as it softly sings. Watching from afar as it hobbles on its haunches like a drunken man, or of fawn newly grazed. It is steady - and constantly moving. It buzzes like a million bees and yet the man standing next to it is seemingly unaffected.

And so are you.

Your gentility becomes you as you politely bow for the man who you’ve so gracefully led to Mr. Minoru’s office. A practiced curtsy is usually enough to get your usual guests commenting under their nose at your bosses taste in assistant’s, but this man is quiet as he walks past you. So above your head that it almost feels like he doesn’t even know you exist. And that feeling is… off putting to say the least.

You close the door behind him as your boss starts on introductions.

“Ah, so you’ve met my beautiful assistant!” He reaches out his hand. “Minoru. Nice to meet you.”

The genuinity in the man’s smile fastens his eyes into slits as he steps forward to return the shake. “Geto, likewise.”

“Geto, huh? I heard the old man sent you for an investment proposition. My guess is it’s something… traditional?” Minoru gestures toward his garbs.

He’s somewhat clinical in his attempt to look lighthearted, but the sigh he blows out feels trusting. “So this isn’t selling “contemporary” huh?”

Minoru laughs and the thing beside him whimpers.

Your fingers twitch against your work skirt.

You’re a distant shadow lingering behind the conversing men as you step to your post on the far side of the office wall, heels clicking quietly when you bend to fix yourself adjacent to Mr. Minoru’s desk. — You’re not expected to listen much to the conversation, or even understand the matters on which they talk about. Just straighten your back when your boss snaps his fingers and follow obediently when he coos an order.

But even if that weren’t the case, you’d say it’d be hard to pay any attention to anything other than whatever the fuck that is hunched beside the man standing just a few feet away. Singing quietly under its breath and repeating the tune like a prayer. Fearful, shaken, pleaful, dread inducing; overlapping in its many mouths. Your fingernails quietly scrape against each other in your attempt to remain neutral but from a keen eye you’re jarred. Disquietingly moving your eyes from the two men still talking adjacent from you and then it again.

It’s looking at you.

You force down a swallow when Minoru calls your name.

“Quiet thing, isn’t she?” Your boss comments amidst the conversation as you approach them. “Could almost forget she’s here if it weren’t for the eyecandy,”

You smile at him like he’s flattering you but it’s muscle memory. “Sir?”

“Gather up those papers from your desk over there, sweetpea. And hand it to the nice man.”

You almost don’t even wanna turn your back on it.

But against your own anxieties you do as you're told. Even with your nerves frayed as they are. You keep your posture as you hastily skirt to your desk and back across the room again. Nimble, slightly shaken fingers lowering to place it in Geto-san’s hand but he doesn’t acknowledge you even when you smile. Vacant eyes. Bored of you already. —- You don’t know if you should feel more offended or alarmed. But in your curtsy before backing away you decide to split the difference and go for disturbed.

Avant-garde. This guy just gives you the fuckin’ creeps.

He works in health, apparently. From what you’ve gathered in the continuing conversation, he’s a spiritual man who offers health by spiritual means. It’s not a very groundbreaking admission, especially from a man in traditional garb, but he assures that his practices have long surpassed ground theory and have been proven to guarantee actual results. From refractory diseases, mental illness, visible injury; his methods could completely eradicate the need for traditional medicine and take the health industry by storm.

But money is a long factor, longer in the doubtful and non-spiritual. “Non-worthy.” It sounds pointed the way he slips that in, but your red flags aren’t shared with your less than convinced boss.

“Spiritual healing sounds great and all, Geto buddy. But you’re directing services to a pretty biased market.” Minoru crosses one of his legs over the other from his perched position against his desk. “Even with the facts, the money’s in objectivity. You’d get more bang for your buck just saying any Yamada worth his salt can walk in and get rid a’ his sniffles for the right price. - Religion ‘ll just turn people off.”

Geto smiles patiently. “Ah, Minoru-san, we’re not religion based. Religion promotes powerlessness. Our services come from practical people.”

You watch as the creature messily swivels on its crooked legs when he invades its space by leaning back a little. “But to insert certain biases kind of sweetens the deal, doesn’t it? People like things that make them feel special. Even the most useless people should wanna prove themselves in some way, right?”

What a crooked way of thinking.

At your quiet displeasure the mass behind Geto wheezes painfully, wincing when you lock eyes with it. Its song pitches and warbles, chops a little like it’s weeping; but even in its effort to resume its discontent is palpable.

You could almost feel acknowledged by it. By its wandering eyes and its tightened misshapen shoulders. Almost as off put as you are from its spot in the middle of the room. The more you look at it, the more it starts to evoke pity. Even in its unsightliness, it looks misplaced and afraid. - Its song breaks like a cry for mercy and the closer you look at it the more recognizable its purpose becomes.

There are knots in its balmy skin so engorged they bleed and tear. Fabric mincing over fictional scabbing and prayer beads hanging out of its gashes. Every twitch it makes reverberates ricey out of rhythm beats akin to maracas and its song, as out of key as it is, is reverential. Powerlessness. Anodyne through faith. You barely find yourself pitying the afflictions of affected people but in the context of this conversation - it’s watering eyes; you feel empathetic toward this thing and by extension Geto-san.

You assume something awful must’ve started that way of thinking.

Should you even stick your neck out for this guy? You’ve dealt with bigger, more violent ones in any case. But this creature seems peaceful. Following faithfully on its hosts haunches as it waits patiently beside him. You’ll have to be fast and unflashy about it, hopefully the stench from that thing won’t make you hurl on impulse. But if not out of mercy, it would be nice to have it out of your line of vision.

Your eyes cross it again. It’s many eyes well with anguish. You decide that at your next opportunity you’ll get rid of it promptly.

As luck would have it Mr. Minoru’s personal phone rings.

He’s quick in his apologies as he fishes it out of his pocket. Passing a smile to Geto as he quickly bows and makes the few long strides it takes to step out of the door and into the hallway, and a few short snaps in your direction as he points you to the concessionaires reserved for his clients near the door.

You’re practiced as you dip for the little fridge on your left, carefully sliding out a glassed bottle of water from the door and a plastic bag of sliced apples.

“Would you like a snack while you wait, Geto-san?”

He ignores you.

Through a quietly exasperated sigh does he slide his phone out of his hakama and pointedly decide not to acknowledge your awkward stance at the far end of the room. — You know he ignores you because the silence that otherwise permeates the spaciousness of your boss's suite is momentarily disrupted by the sound of your voice bouncing off the walls; followed again by that frigid silence.

This is the guy you’re trying to help.

Even so, your embarrassment is brushed aside in favor of making your way to the small coffee table between him and the other leather seat parallel to his. Thin pencil skirt riding a little as you take wide steps to the little spot that separates him from the empty seat - and you from the thin sliver of carpet standing between he and the now quivering mass.

You bend to place the treats gingerly beside him.

And when you rise you reach for it.

There are practiced fingers circling around your wrist before you can even touch it.

Your fear is potent enough to turn its broken hums into racking sobs as you freeze in his sudden grip. Firmly clasped onto you as he raises your arm over your head and forces you to jolt back with a stuttered breath. Faint greyed markings on the palm of your hand fade but they’re caught under his watchful eye, and through your shock you watch his expression switch.

From confusion, to intrigue, to pure excitement.

Your shock teeters on horror as his pupils dilate. “Now, just what were those pretty fingers planning on doing?”

He seems to revel at the sheer bewilderment that colors in your pretty face from where you nervously stare up at him. Doe eyes lit up by headlights, and the radiative heat of suddenly being this close to his predatory gaze. You stammer. “Wh-? Y-You know it’s-“

“Brought it with me, didn’t I?” He speaks lowly as he circles his thumb over your wrist. “Can’t say I don’t appreciate your concern though, sweetheart.”

You shrink. The absurdity of intentionally carrying a burden like this is as mind boggling as it is chilling. Dread inducing, even. With the kind of bad juju that thing emits there’s no other reason to purposefully let it fester beside you than for motives deeply depraved. Deeply disturbed. The way the air around him murkens and electrifies, and a glint in his eye that makes you feel like prey. — He’s looking at you like you’re dinner right now. And something about that feels trillions of times more frightening than any typical rubbernecking.

After being treated like a ghost by this man this whole time. Now he’s looking at you like you’re a slab of meat spread out for him. Succulent and tenderized, pliant under his fingers. Your soft eyes are rigid with fear as his other hand reaches for you blithely, larger fingers dipping in your loose hair and scooping it gently forward. You glance at it from the corner of your eye.

Smoke curls around his palm.

You suppress with a quiet intake of breath.

Geto-san’s cheeks pinken as he gleefully smiles, emboldened by a genuine tinge of ardor. You do your best not to flinch but it’s futile, his chilled fingers consolingly caress your face as he tuts; and gazes at you like he’s committing you to memory.

“Be patient for me, yeah? I’ll be done in a minute.”

You can’t even begin to guess what that means.

But before you can inquire he’s shushing you with a finger up to his lips. Playfully shooing you away as Mr. Minoru’s footsteps patter closer, and you clumsily re-fit yourself into your professional mask.

“Sorry ‘bout that, pal. Forgot about another meeting I was supposed to attend a little earlier,” He pockets his phone. “No one’s fault.”

He leans against the cliff of his desk where Geto-san’s planted himself again. Minoru glances at the unopened bag of apple slices. “Ah, _____, baby. You were supposed to hand him the good stuff.”

“I’m so sorry, sir.”

“No worries.” Geto laughs airily. “How could anything look nearly as appetizing when you’ve got an assistant like that walking around?”

Your ears burn as Mr. Minoru snorts in kind. “Yeah, fair enough,”

He rolls up his sleeves. “A’right, princess. How bout you hop on over to my lounge and break open the good brandy for my guest and I. Bring us the crystal set. Can you do that?”

—-

The decanter in your hand falls with a dull thump.

There’s no… logical explanation for what you’re looking at right now — Who you’re looking at right now. In any other circumstance deep purples would be expected. Blotched boysenberries and flossy reds, dotted with strained blues. You’d expect tearing - bleeding, audible ginger snaps of tendons and extended bone. A scream even, no matter how silent; all are logically expected. Death is logically expected.

But seeing your boss stretched out like leather, not a full five minutes after leaving him alone with this man, is not.

Your eyes frantically skirt over your boss's heaving corpse from your exposed position at his closing entrance. Watching in repulsed terror as his skin tears and bruises, familiar prayer beads falling out of his flesh like stuffing. - His eyes are rolled agonizingly into the back of his head, mouth opened in a scream. His blood sizzles against the maple of his desk and you can do little but stare in horror.

You flinch as the mainline on his desk starts to go off but you’re no sooner cringing at the way his arm breaks just to reach for it. Bloody fingers pushing the receiver, and cheeks tearing just to respond.

His unchanged voice somehow makes it all the more horrifying. “Hi, Souza. Thanks for getting back to me,”

“Yeah, do me a favor,” You back into the door. “Route about ten million to Geto-san’s organization under investment. And be a dear and sign the invoice for me, would ya?”

You’re gonna be sick.

“So, you’re out of a job now, huh?” You nearly yelp.

Geto-san’s standing just over you. “I’ve got a pretty similar position opened up,” He says casually. “‘Wanna work for me?”

You can barely push out a word. Which, kind man that he is, helps you out by deciding for you. “Ah, Great! I can break you in on Sunday. Here’s my card.”

He smiles kindly as you hesitantly pluck the laminated card from his fingers. Looking at you under mirthful eyes that chill more than they comfort.

“If you’re worried about pay, I can give you double of whatever that monkey gave you. Maybe a little extra if you’re as good as he says you are.”

But before you can recoil at the thought of being stuck under the same kind of boss, with the extra caveat of being a psychopath; he adds with a hint of challenge. “That is, if you can get rid of our friend for us.”

You follow his glance to the creature wearing your boss like a hand puppet.

Do you even have a choice?

Geto-san watches with a keen eye as you warily approach the blinking, bleeding corpse behind your late boss’s desk. Heels clicking slowly against his wooden floors, skin prickling at the thought of even getting close to this thing let alone touch it. There’s a smell that you notice as you move closer. A rotten, discrepant smell that pushes as much as it pulls. Aging, airless skin, barreling toward cell death; only marginally slowed by the alkaline smell of embalming fluid. Too old. Too sour.

But there’s something about it that almost — Hypnotizes. Evokes a kind of nostalgia that almost completely disarms you. Church pews and goatskin, leather hardbacks under frilly gloves; and those damn prayer beads. You can almost hear your grandmother’s voice. The minty sweet taste of stale candies tinted by the perfume in her purse. ~ Watching worship but not understanding it. A contact high of conviction. Your boss’s blood spills and it means something sacred, something reverent. And the closer you get, the more that sacrifice feels for the better.

You flicker a glance in Geto-san’s direction. This guy had this shit on standby?

It’s clammy when your fingers finally graze its skin. Sweaty and twitching, like every touch is a pinched nerve; like every stroke stimulates. There’s movement under the first layer, a hissing under the second. It’s mania seeps off of it in droves and the more you linger on it, the more your stomach twists.

You draw back your hand and rub over the difference in texture.

The room is temporarily endowed with smoke at the snap of your fingers.

They’re both gone when the vapor quickly dissipates, blood formerly staining expensive maple now replaced with its originally polished shine. As well as his chair, his area rug, and any other evidence that could connote what truly horrific fate the man in question had suffered in this very room.

Which is enough to send Geto-san into an ecstatic flurry of applause. “H-Holy shit. Where have you been all my life?”

He’s more focused on the way the weight in your lips shift rather than that being because of a frown. Regardless, you’re still a picture despite it. “You’re gonna fit nicely. — My address is on the card. Come by nine? I’ll have breakfast ready by then.”

He turns with a relaxed lilt toward the exit. “You and I are gonna have a lot of fun.”

The door clicks as the lock disengages.

“Don’t make me come looking for you.”

reblogs are appreciated <3

#geto x reader #soon as he saw you were a sorcerer u started lookin fine as hell ngl #‘oh so they make em like that now?? sheeet’ #how much you wanna bet that ‘pure excitement’ was dead just him realizing how pretty you are at once #things started making sense WAY too quickly. you were coming with him REGARDLESS #geto suguru #jjk geto #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu geto #geto x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk x y/n #jjk imagines #jjk #jjk anime #jujustu kaisen #yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere geto #fem reader #yandere geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen imagines

[charlottan]

tumblr just dumps you onto the dashboard like rotten meat. well i think there should be a big golden gate and theres a button that says "Please Please Please Please Please Please Take Me To Tumblr" and you have to click it and then a little cartoon angel flies in with a big magic key that unlocks the gate and THEN you get to see your mutuals posting old man hole at high noon

[idanceuntilidie]

It’s really short so excuse that! Getting back to writing because I feel better mentally

“CAME AND WON’T LEAVE”

male online friend yandere x gn reader

tw: yandere themes, mentions of blood and getting rid of the bodies.

tags; @sinnful-darling

He breathed in the stench of blood, smiling proudly as the sound of a knife hitting the bone filled his apartment once again.

Ever since you were little your parents told you to be careful on the internet. It’s a dangerous place after all.

You had to admit they were right, but that didn’t stop you from spending almost half of your free time on it. Games, music, films and soon friends who probably stayed longer than those you made in high school. Even though lately you noticed many of them ignoring or blocking you out of nowhere.

It happens you figured, it was easier not to dwell much on it.

You open your eyes, it was the middle of the night you guessed, mostly because of the dark that swallowed your room whole.

Laying on your back you rub your eyes and grab the thing that disturbs your sleep.

The sound of a knife meeting the bone was the only thing that echoed in the room. Lorelai huffed as he tried his best to cut through the bone which was too stubborn for his liking. The lack of important tools finally started to show.

Then a sickening crack, a satisfied smile spreaded on his face slowly. Broken. Lorelai took a moment to admire his work. The thing that laid on the table was barely recognisable. Covered in a pretty red and metallic smell. The meat looked fresh, it surprised him a little. He expected it to be rotten, and maybe it is but he won’t waste his time. He opened the trash bag and threw the remaining pieces of meat, bone and hair.

The gloves were thrown into the sink, they needed to be washed and disposed of properly.

Humming he took out the phone, checking the new messages that might have appeared during his work. He expected it, but it still gave him butterflies.

“Sorry fell aslep I thinj i cried myself to slepp tonighr”

He giggled at your typos, you were tired, of course it was expected you had a long day and ooh poor little you. He felt his cheeks getting warmer, he wishes he could go to your house, help you, be there with you. Crawl under your skin to be as close to you as possible but he can’t, as much as he wants to he can’t. Not yet, the other issue is him covered in blood. You don’t even know he moved into YOUR city, you are still so blissfully unaware of him getting closer and closer. That’s too fast, he thinks as he fumbles with a rushed reply.

He needs to make sure you are ready, his gaze focuses on the bags scattered across the floor.

First part of the plan was almost finished, people who kept you far away from him and soon maybe soon he will come to you.

„Hey it’s okay, are you able to fall back asleep?”

„nkoo”

„We can talk if you want”

„yis”

And maybe you will accept him with open arms.

#yandere male #yandere #male yandere #yandere oc #yandere male oc #yandere x reader #yandere male x gn reader #gn reader #gn darling #yandere x gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #x gendere neutral reader #x reader #oc yandere #yandere blog #tw yandere #yandere x darling #oc tag #oc

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part two —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 4k tags: death. blood. zombies of course. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn. enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: let me establish some things/characters/relationships ya know.

You dream of that house in Norbury. The one you grew up in. Your mother calls you for lunch. You are caked in dirt, fingers just leaving the soil where they’d searched for bugs and worms. Your sister watches in disgust but now she is pulling your arm.

You follow her, bare feet padding the wood floors. The lunch is on the table - pine needles on a porcelain plate. An empty glass which should be filled with juice. Your stomach howls. You look up to ask your mother for something else.

Right before your eyes, she melts into something grey. Maggots bleed from the corners of her eyes. The irises turn white, staring down at you with hunger even stronger than your own.

“Mom?”

Across the table, your sister melts away, too. Her body is mangled to the point that it tumbles to the kitchen floor.

You wake up just as your mother’s decomposed hands grab your shoulders and her mouth finds the crook of your neck.

Your eyes peel open to find darkness.

Not the house in Norbury, just a sheet of black that covers the cold forest. This has become your new home, and likely, your soon-tomb.

You wipe your eyes.

You lean back against the tree which you have managed to hoist yourself in. Sleep finds you again, but this time, the nightmare arrives when you wake up, once more in the form of a rotten smell and hissed groans.

These ones are real.

By the time you awake at dawn, your joints ache. You barely remember how you got up here, or how you got back up after the man and his daughter left. You sat there next to the broken bow for minutes, hours. Then, something moved you. The last piece of your humanness. It stood you up, forced you to find some pine needles to swallow down since meat was now out of the question, and brought you to this tree branch before the night settled.

The sunrise over the white forest is pretty, you think.

But you hear something. Smell something.

You look down and what your eyes find beneath the tree branch is not pretty in the slightest.

"Are you serious?" your numb lips whisper, now fully awake.

Only a few meters below you stand three Greys.

They must have wandered near the tree during the night, catching a waft of your smell from up above. Their tattered heads are tipped back, pale eyes pointed at you. Mindlessly, their arms squabble up towards the branch. But it's too high for them to reach. One of them, once a young woman your own age, pathetically claws at the tree trunk.

The thing with Greys is that they are terrible climbers. That is something they all share because their infected brains cannot muster enough strategy for it. What they don’t share is how long they have been decomposing, and what kind of physique they started out with. For instance, a Grey with a child's body will be less of a threat than one who was once a thick-boned man. Similarly, a Grey who was recently infected will have more muscle mass than one who has been rotting for years.

If you had your bow, you would be fine. But Skull-Face took this from you. Bitterly, you understand why. Who was he to trust that you wouldn't point it at them the moment they turned their backs?

But now there is no way to kill them.

You will have to figure out something else.

You shift on the branch to get a better look.

One looks bigger than the others. It still has some hair left. The others only have exposed skulls and a few clumps jutting out that resemble black worms. The female clawing the tree looks pretty weak and slow. You could probably outrun her. But even if you are faster, the Greys do not tire. They don't have the need for rest that you do, and even after a night's sleep and some pine needles, you are beyond exhausted.

Fuck. He really should have just killed you.

You want to cry. If you were hydrated, you would.

But instead, you carefully stand up on the branch, hugging the trunk to keep your feet steady. You scan the area. You didn’t make it very far from the pond the man and girl found you near.

What direction did they leave in?

You think you remember but even if you run that way, what sort of protection will you find?

You don’t know, but it seems like the best bet you have. Desperation seals this plan in your brain. First, you need a head start, so without much to lose, you shrug off your coat and wait until the three are close together before dropping it over their heads. It’s enough to disorient them, even for a moment, so you can slip down from the branch, scraping your knees at the bottom, and take off.

The cold bites but the adrenaline warms your muscles. Your body feels heavy despite being so thin, but something drives it. Your legs carry you towards the pond and past it.

But it is not long before they trail behind you with grunts and clambered, uneven footsteps. You don’t need to look over your shoulder to know that the biggest one is running the fastest. By the sound, there is likely only a ten-meter gap between you and him, living and undead.

It must only be a few minutes before your stamina nose-dives. So little fuel.

They’re gaining on you.

You whirl past trees and snow.

A camp.

A high fence around a small cabin.

The sight is enough to push you forward, energy spent but your instinct driving you. It must be them. You run and run, but then you stop, a gasp slicing through your lungs when your feet just barely stop in front of a deep trench. It is dug around the perimeter of the camp, wide enough to require a jump.

There is no time to think. In an instant, you decide you'd rather be killed by his knife than turned Grey. Bitten.

So you leap across it.

Your boots just barely land on the other side.

You fall from the impact and there is a sudden intense pain as something sharp under the snow pierces your torso and causes your eyes to roll back, fingertips clawing at the frost. A ringing in your ears.

You make out a flurry of sounds: the pathetic moans as the Greys fall in the pit behind you, someone's heavy footsteps crunching the ground, and then a gritted-out “Jesus fuckin’ Christ.”

Then, blackness.

You wake up to the touch of rough fingertips.

"Should be enough. Hand me the knife, Blue."

Eyelids heavy, you see log-stacked walls that form a small living room. Your body lays on what you believe to be a sofa, the sprung cushions so different than the hard surfaces you’ve slept on for years now. Your coat - Paul's old coat - is long gone. You are left with only your soiled shirt, the fabric hiked up just below your breast.

Seconds later, you are aware of the two other people in the room. A girl with mouse-brown hair stands over your head. She hands something to the behemoth sitting on the stool, who is leaning over to inspect your midriff.

Knife.

He will finally put an end to it all. He should have done so the first time. You clamp your eyes shut and inhale, ready for it again, but the stab to your gut never comes. Instead, a soft hand brushes your forehead and you hear the sound of his knife cut something.

"Hey, it's okay. He just finished the stitches."

"What?" you mouth.

"You may or may not have fallen on one of our caltrops," the girl says apologetically with a scrunch of her nose.

Confused, your head shifts against the cushion to look down. You see it now. The wound. Black sutures unevenly close it up, but still, some blood seeps.

“Don't get comfortable. Fixed it for you, but tomorrow you're out." He shakes his head as he speaks in a growl under his breath. "You have some goddamn nerve, you know. Leading those fucks over here."

"I— I had no other option," you croak, but just these few words take so much energy to push through your teeth, and you lean your head back.

"She made a smart choice," the girl comments quietly. Blue. She nudges her father's shoulder and clears her throat. “Come on, Ghost. Maybe she could—"

"No."

A petulant sigh blows up a piece of her hair. She looks back at you and in your half-aware state, her youthful eyes remind you of your long-dead nephew.

You are not awake for even a minute longer before your eyelids flutter shut again.

Blackness.

The next time you awaken they are sitting at a table in the corner of the room. You lift yourself against the couch with a wince, your hand instantly holding your torso. Your shirt has been tugged back down over the wound, and your brain is a bit more aware than before. You look around again, taking in more of this new environment. 

When was the last time you’d been inside a house?

It's a modest cabin, but far homier than the tents of your old camp. There is a shorn rug on the floor and a small stack of board games: Scrabble, Monopoly, Battleship. Against the wall is a steel fireplace, the ash inside suggesting it was recently used. A lamp on the table casts a soft, yellow glow. You notice the outlines of windows that have been boarded up with planks of pine.

When your eyes finally land on the food they are eating at the table, your stomach hisses.

Ghost has his mask inched up so he can chew on a piece of meat. Blue sits on her knees in the chair, scooping her fingers in a jar of peanut butter. Some of it coats the corners of her mouth. He notices and reaches over to swipe a thumb against her lips. 

“Thanks,” she mumbles. She swallows a mouthful as her eyes curiously drift across the room. They widen when she sees that you are not only awake but trying to sit up.

“Ghost. She’s awake again.”

His response: wordlessly nudging a small plate and mug in front of the free chair at the table. 

Warily, you swing your feet down, nostrils flaring to rake in the smell of food rather than dead flesh this time. Standing is a difficult task, one that causes the muscles around your wound to spasm. But hunger is stronger than your pain. Desperate. Starved. You don’t have it in you to question the situation, not yet.

The small plate truly is small; it looks like he has given you pitiful scraps of things they didn’t want. Stale crackers. The hard pieces of dried meat from an animal you aren’t sure of. But it’s more than you have had in a week. With just how fast you inhale it, there is no time to wipe the crumbs from your lips. 

Blue is staring wide-eyed when you are done. 

You gulp down the mug of water.

“Shit balls. You really were hungry.”

Ghost pulls his mask back over a stubbled jaw and lets out an irritated groan. “I told you to stop with that. What are you even sayin’?”

“And I told you—“ she shoots him a look, tongue poking out. You sit there with your chest rising and falling slowly, each breath requiring more energy than you have. “ —that I like to be creative with it.”

They are talking to each other as if you are not even there. 

“There is no being creative with it. If you’re gonna swear, do it right, yeah?”

A few more bickers. One voice low and gravelly. A cockney accent. The other voice, soft and pettish. But you don’t care to listen. Rather, your eyes stare at your empty plate and you press the tip of your thumb to the crumbs and lick them off like a scrounging rodent.

The moment Blue is done with the peanut butter, a big boot under the table taps the leg of her chair. 

“Time for bed, kid?”

“Dad—”

“Go on.”

He juts his chin in the direction of a small hallway where you can make out the shape of a few doors in the dim light. One must be her room because, with a sigh, she stands from the table and heads towards it, leaving you alone with him.

He is a man who threatened to kill you, and now a man who has stitched you up and fed you.

Tomorrow you’re out.

Sucking in a breath, you look up at him. “What is your game?”

He narrows his eyes. “That how you say thank you?”

“Thank you for what?” your voice rattles through fragile bones. “Keeping me alive for one more day? You should have left me there to bleed out.”

“I should have.”

“So why didn’t you? Are you fucking evil or what?” Your teeth tighten and the muscles of your face clench. “I have nothing. No one. You know I won’t survive out there. What was the point of this— “ you gesture to the spot where your wound lies under the shirt, then to the plate in front of you, “—and the food? There is no good reason to, right?”

“There is no good reason,” he repeats in a murmur. "Maybe I jus’ pity you. You look like you’re one of ‘em already.”

He leans back in the chair as his eyes drag over you. He is covered head-to-toe. Wearing a long-sleeve black shirt and jeans. The mask is just as intimidating as before, a plastic skull sewed crudely to the black fabric and two faded, white lines painted down the chin of it.

Where you’d been terrified of the sight the first time, you are now angered. Your breath quickens through sore lungs.

“I don’t want your pity. I want you to stop being a coward and fucking kill me already,��� you say, waving around a bony hand, “...or fucking help me. Make up your mind, but don’t send me out there again to suffer.”

You continue, quieter, wiping your wet nose.

“You can do it now,” a curl at your lips. “She’s not here to stop you.”

Dark eyes flicker away and stare dully at the cabin wall. He is boarded up like the windows. There is nothing to see except for the growing tension in the muscles under his clothes and the way his hands roll up.

The silence is dizzying. It could be fatal.

But finally, he looks back at you.

He pulls his broad shoulders into an intimidating posture before offering his decision in a growl.

“You will sleep outside," and your heartbeat staggers, "You won’t have any of our medicine. You will get food for yourself once that shit is healed. And—“ his voice lowers into something that makes your frail body shiver, his hand moving to grip the table. “—if you lay a finger on her, your neck will be the next thing I break. Understood?”

Your lips part. They close.

Your eyes flutter shut and you lean back in the chair. With a gargled gasp, you nod.

“Understood.”

Something soft touches your foot that first morning.

It gently rouses you.

"Hey, I heard you're a part of the team now."

A head pokes into the small shed you've been banished to and sunlight filters in. Groaning, you shift against the dusted floorboards. Your body only fits with its knees bent. Ghost gave you a thick blanket to sleep with, but nothing to lay on. Still, this shed is within their fortification.

You are still alive.

Somehow.

The game of survival has spat you out here, at the camp of a father and daughter. The memory of your first encounter takes the form of a phantom welt on your throat. Could you trust that he wouldn’t change his mind?

It’s not like you have a choice.

"Huh?" is all you can say, looking up at the child who you suspect had great influence on the moments leading you here.

"You know... the team."

Blue smiles down at you. The soft touch to your foot ends up moving right by your cheek. A puffy tail tickles the skin.

"What is—?"

"This is Grim," she says cheerily, and reaches down to pick up what you now see is a chocolate rabbit. "He's a good friend of mine."

"You have a pet?" you ask, rubbing your eyes in surprise. The pain in your torso has faded just a bit. Still, your body feels like a corpse. You sit up and the blanket falls to your waist. You miss the couch.

"Not a pet, a friend," she says. "Come on. Get up."

Painfully, you follow her out of the shed. Now that you are not running away from Greys, you can observe their camp better. It is... impressive. Not only is there the fence and trench outside, but within it is more than you ever had at your old camp. Covered in the snow lays a wood planter, which you assume they use to grow crops in the other seasons. Just next to the house is a large wooden hutch housing more rabbits than you have seen in a lifetime.

Blue leads you there, plants a kiss on the top of Grim's head, and slips him back in.

"You have a lot of friends.”

“They aren’t all my friends,” she says. “Only Grim. The others are food.”

Rabbits for food? It's brilliant. They breed like crazy. Having this food supply at their fingertips means they must not hunt as often as you and Paul had to— which means, fewer encounters with the threats outside.

Ghost is smart.

The mere setup of this place is evidence of how well he understands their needs. And with how well-fed Blue appears, they have not yet struggled the way you have.

But their food won’t be for you much longer. With your lack of a bow, you wonder how you’re meant to hunt.

Instead of worrying about it yet, you ask Blue, “Where is your dad?”

“Huh? Oh, Ghost is cleaning up your mess from yesterday.” She gives a shrug. “And he’s shoveling the trench. Doesn’t really work if there’s snow in there.”

“Why do you call him Ghost?”

You take a good look at her.

Her fair skin covers soft cheekbones, the skin of her rosy lips has been chewed a bit at the corner, and her eyes are truly the opposite of his: full and bright. She thinks the question over for a long moment as if it is something she’s never had to prepare an answer for.

Maybe, there has just never been anyone around to ask.

“He used to play outside with me,” she finally says. “He was in the military, you know? And when he was home, we would play this survival game. Pretend to shoot each other. Climb the trees. He had his codename, so I had to have mine.”

Military. That makes sense.

She continues, eyes flickering down to the herd of rabbits as her fingers brush thoughtlessly over the edge of the hatch.

“When things happened, I just remember him telling me that it was like we were playing survival again, except - you know - not a game this time,” her brows furrow, then she shrugs, “He’s called me by my codename ever since and I usually call him by his. Sometimes Dad fits better.”

“So," you say, "what is your real name, then?”

“I’d tell you," she gives a smile that reaches her blue eyes, "...but then I’d have to kill you.”

It is then you notice that Blue carries two knives on her. One strapped to her ankle, and the other tucked in the belt of her trousers.

Breakfast consists of what you now realize is rabbit. Again, your plate is much smaller than theirs. Ghost feeds you like one would feed a stray dog. You thought it might be awkward, sitting at the table with them. Part of the team. Except, not really. You feel more like a pest.

It's not really awkward apart from the fact that Ghost doesn't spare you even a glance. Blue's curiosity fills the space. She asks for your name. She wonders where you came from and why you were alone, her head tilted and her elbows leaning on the table. You explain your story quietly, shifting your gaze to her dad, and do your best to leave out the gritty parts. She listens, and offers a few gentle "sorry's".

"I can't imagine having a sister," she says when you are done. "And I also can't imagine having to watch her die like that."

Ghost stares at her.

You respond anyway, "I never imagined it, either."

After eating, Ghost leaves to fetch the same blanket he'd given you for sleep. Finally, he looks at you. Dark eyes that have the smallest flicker of disgust as they travel over you, causing your throat to dry.

"You smell like shit. Come on."

You learn that bathing for Ghost and Blue means using a small rag and soap made from resin. The cabin has a bathroom, but there is no running water, so instead, there is a bucket of some collected from a nearby creek. Ghost hovers near the bathroom door for a moment, before shaking his head and leaving you.

The cold water stings. Ghost was blunt but not wrong. You smelled like rot. You drag the rag over your skin and the valleys of your ribs, disgusted by what you see, and have a hard time remembering what your body once looked like. Your wound is still puffy against the stitches. Red, screaming. The small, scratched mirror above the sink shows you a ghastly face. You look away. You use the blanket to dry yourself.

Outside, you find Ghost and Blue playing tic-tac-toe in the snow. It's something you used to do with your nephew, only it was usually one-sided because he was always too withdrawn to care. Blue, on the other hand, narrows her eyes in fierce competition and Ghost sits on a tree stump, his elbows on his knees.

“How come you always get to start, huh?”

“Because,” she sings, drawn out, “Youngest goes first.”

“Doesn’t sound very fair.”

“Life isn’t fair. Remember, Ghost?”

“Jesus, kid. Not even a teenager and you’re already usin’ my words against me.”

"Don't say them if you don't want me using them."

"Just go, it's your turn."

This is how those first few days go.

It is mundane. Games, scattered meals, and walks to the creek for water. You don't join them. Ghost ignores you for the most part except to silently offer bits of food and checks to your wound. His rough fingertips never soften, not for you. He finds your old coat on the second day and gives it back with a cold: M’not giving you another if you lose it. It still smells like Greys.

You feel like an intruder, sticking to your shed most of the time. Blue pokes and prods at you curiously. It is as if she doesn’t know how much she is allowed to interact.

On the fourth morning, she greets you again with a soft wake-up call from Grim and, to your relief, an extra piece of meat that she slips into your palm while whispering: Don’t tell Ghost, okay?

And it's on this day, after breakfast, that the two of them decide to leave the camp to go hunting. Ghost is a big guy. Rabbits alone can't keep up the thick sinew of him.

"You're comin' with us," he tells you, wearing a thick SAS jacket for the occasion.

You almost choke. "What?"

"Your stitches are lookin' fine and you're walking alright." His voice is flat, with an edge to it that teeters towards irritation. "You can get your own damn food."

"I don't have anything to hunt with," you remind him.

He tucks Blue's hair behind her ear before asking her to wait outside.

Then, he disappears into a room down the hall, coming back a moment later with a wooden bow in one hand and a military-grade knife in the other. On his back is a rifle, and in a sheath on his tac pants is a handgun.

He sticks the bow in your hand, then the knife in the other. With wide eyes, you look over the carved wood. It is stronger than your old one, whittled down smooth from oak. Along the curve of it, Blue is etched in all capitals.

"She doesn't use it much," he says, before suddenly, the metal tip of his handgun presses into your torso - the wounded side - and he loops his fingers around the back of your neck, pulling you close.

"Don't even think of trying anything," Ghost growls this warning in your ear, digging the end of his gun hard enough to make you whimper as your healing wound cries out. "Do you hear me?"

"I hear you. I won't."

taglist:

@cool-0-n @savagemistresss @morganvoorhees @dinsverdika @cated18 @lolszass @jeswiii @all-good-things-have-an-ending @alternatealt @uvoiid @underatreedrinkingtea @ramadiiiisme @crissteetee67 @lexi-zsy09

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley #ghost #zombie apocolypse au #tw blood #tw death #tw gore

[bodiedbyteecosplays]

Modern!Human Hantengu Brothers headcanons

Heeeyyyy babiesss!!! I’m sorry it’s so late but I FINALLY GOT MY HANTENGU BROTHERS HEADCANONS DONE 🥹🥹!! I sincerely hope y’all enjoy them!

Alright so, The headcanon came from the roots in the manga. Hantengu (the demon) was known to have multiple wives and children and he killed every last one of them. After Muzan’s defeat & Hantengu was reborn, he sadly abandoned his wife and his two children because he still had his memories from his past life and felt guilt & fear. His son grew a bit of resentment for him and promised that when he became a father that he would be there for his children through and through. He met the Brothers’ mother because she was visiting Japan from Nigeria and fell absolutely head over heels in love with her. They soon started dating after getting to know each other. Then married later on and their first born son, Sekido was born, then came Karaku, Aizetsu, Urogi , & Zohakuten.

Their Mother, Dr. Kehinde Adeyinka- Hantengu is a OBGYN & their father Urami Hantengu is a co director for a very big movie production company. ( my boys came from riches but still humble )

Their parents come from different cultures so they always brought them up in a way where they were exposed to both equally. They know Japanese (that does include how to write in Japanese too), Yoruba, Nigerian Pidgin, English, and Swahili.

SEKIDO

• Much like his past life, Sekido still remains the oldest. His birthday is September 3rd, 1995 making our angery baby a Virgo ♍️.

• When I tell yall he is nonchalantttt!! Whew! He literally says the first thing that comes on his mind. His mom always told him that he was like his father in that regard.

• Also much like his past life, he always looks angered (Resting bitch face go brrrrrrr) Most people are kinda afraid to approach him.

• Definitely gets annoyed by his brothers antics (mostly Urogi and Karaku playing pranks on him and pissing him off and Aizetsu constantly second guessing himself)

• Loves the rain and finds it peaceful when it’s thundering outside.. it sets the mood when he’s by himself playing the piano (one of his hidden talents)

• He works as a Auto mechanic at his own shop. (which explains how he knows to keep his cars in perfect condition)

• He is most DEFINITELY a cat person. He has a Black Maine coon mix named Zeus. He found him just laying on top of one of his cars one day as he was getting ready to go get groceries and when he came back from the store, he was sitting in front of his apartment and he started growing fond of him and took him in. Zeus is spoiled rotten so I can only imagine when Sekido gets a partner 🫠.

• Is a greeeeeaaaaattttt cook! Other than their mother, his brothers usually latch on to his place when he does cook. (He definitely has a special apron on when he cooks too) He learned from his momma 🤩

• Has a giant dragon tattoo on his back that was drawn by Zohakuten and tattooed by Managi (Modern Human Gyokko. In my headcanon, he’s a famous Tattoo artist that grew fame from TikTok)

• Definitely is a Heavy sleeper but don’t let that MF Fan Turn off. He gonna wake up PISSED.

• Academically speaking, Sekido is extremely intelligent. He graduated top of his class in High school & has a degree in Engineering (he also graduated top of his class in college too)

• BLACK COFFEE ADDICT! Can’t stand overly sweet coffee or sweet ANYTHING. Likes really savory foods! Lots of meat but not too too much. Also loves vegetables, stews, curry’s, and etc. The only thing he can tolerate that relates to sweet foods is dark chocolate.

• Definitely the type to go to bed by 10 pm (grumpy old man 😂😂)

• LISTEN! My baby is BUILTTTTTTT. He definitely hits the gym after work He’ll OCCASIONALLY go with Karaku if he doesn’t have to work. He’s also tall (he’s 6’3 1/2 and the tallest out of the brothers)

• He adores his family and anyone he deems close although he does get annoyed with their shenanigans he will always and forever care.

• y’all know that bath & body works scent “ Mahogany Teakwood” yeah, literally smells like that plus Shea butter & mint.

KARAKU

• Karaku is the second Born like his past carnation. He was born on October 4, 1996 making him a Libra baby.

• He’s literally a big kid at heart but he’s really chill and down to earth.

• Much like his past life he’s really playful and loves a good thrill. It makes his blood pump lol.

• Loves teasing his brothers (mostly Sekido and Aizetsu) One time he played a prank on Sekido while he was asleep by putting a realistic looking robotic spider on him (poor Seki has arachnophobia 🥲) & when he woke up all hell broke loose and when he finally caught Karaku, he put him in a chokehold and it took Urogi and Aizetsu to get him off of Karaku. 😂😂😂 and you’d think after that he’d learn his lesson (he didn’t)

• He works as a Bartending Manager for a big club and always makes good money in tips because one he loves serving the drinks and seeing people’s reaction to his drinks and they all love him dearly.

• Speaking of, he Is a masttttterrrrr at creating drink recipes and has a miniature bar at his place. He’s also a fairly decent cook but still annoys Sekido because he likes his better 😂.

• Like I’ve said before, mans is a seriously talented dancer & he effortlessly woos people with his moves ever since he went viral online & has a lots of fans (no pun intended).

• He also posts videos of him making drinks on TikTok too and always picks the best songs but people mostly like when he does voice overs of what he puts in drinks.

• He also does Twitch streams from time to time playing games( likes games like FNAF, Dead by Daylight, or any kind of scary games.)

• I also headcanon that he loves Halloween mostly because it’s during his birth month.

• Has one tattoo on his arm of his moms first name. His mom always told him that he reminds her of herself back in her youth.

• Loves all animals but is more so a Dog person.

• HE DOES SMOKE WEED & VAPE!

• Academically he made A’s & B’s in high school so he is quite smart but still goofed off in class though 😂. He has a Bachelors Degree in Communications and is also apart of a Fraternity.

• DEFINITELY A GYM BRO BUT NOT THE TOXIC KIND. Takes his physical health and physique seriously but never ever talks bad about how anyone else chooses to do with their body. If they are happy, he is as well. He’s definitely not a bodyshamer & will put someone in check if they talk bad about someone around him.

• HES A LIGHT SLEEPER. Any little sound will wake him up instantly. One time he came home from work so tired that he forgot that he connected his phone to his big bluetooth speaker while he took a shower & also forgot that he set an alarm to wake him up in the morning for the gym and damn near had a heart attack when his alarm went off. 🥲

• Loves energy drinks and coffee but knows his limits on his intake and that too much caffeine isn’t good. DEFINITELY MEAL PREPS! Has meats, vegetables, and fruits.

• Like I Said, he takes his personal physical seriously. He has a skin care routine and he also smells really good too .. it’s like a Citrusy and warm vanilla type scent mixed with hints of his favorite cologne.

• He’s also fairly tall too standing at about 6’2

• He’s heavily into zodiac signs and reads his horoscope on the daily! Got the rest of his brothers into it. Sekido & Zoha thought it was stupid until they both did some research and it started singling out their individual character traits & that’s what sparked their interests in it.

• He’s a lover at heart so anybody that he loves he has them near and dear to his heart. If he loves you then you’re a 4LIFERRRRR.

AIZETSU

• So he’s the middle child! His Birthday is February 20, 1998 making Zetsy a Pisces baby!

• Much like his past incarnation he’s quiet & monotone if he’s not comfortable around you but once he is comfortable he becomes relaxed and more expressive. Is very introverted.

• He was kind of bullied in school due to his quiet and timid behavior but when asked his opinion on something, much like his older brother Sekido he wouldn’t hold back the truth (it’s always the quiet ones)

• I would like to think that Aizetsu is heavily into meditation because it calms his anxiety and his nerves.

• PLEASE GIVE THIS BABY WORDS OF AFFIRMATION AND REASSURANCE!

• Aizetsu works as a computer tech and is very good with technology. He’s been very tech savvy since he was a kid always learning how it functions and knowing the ins and outs of it. He also works part time as a Lyft driver.

• His hidden talent is singing! Like I said in my last post, Aizetsu is a hellllaaaa talented singer but he only does so in private but if he sings around someone that means he’s comfortable with them.

• He’s into Zodiac signs thanks to Karaku. He’s a water sign (Team waterrrr) so he’s really good at seeing through people and strays away from those who he determines to be not good people.

• Doesn’t really go to the gym. He thinks it’s way too many people. Instead he finds alternatives at home and he was blessed with a high metabolism too so that’s a W for him. But don’t let that fool you, under what he covers up, he’s still buff. He is about 6’2, same height as Karaku.

• Made excellent grades in school. Mostly all As and graduated top of his class like his brother. He is currently in college pursuing software engineering and is still doing excellent academically!

• Is a good cook at best. Only sticks to simple stuff and doesn’t really like to go all out. Not particular about food but in the same breath, he does lean towards savory foods.

• Doesn’t have any tattoos but low key wants a treble clef tattoo on his chest or something small.

• Has a pet Bearded dragon named Toothless.

• Smells really good! I think he would smell like Cinnamon. Skin does get irritated during the summer time but it’s not severe. Does get tips from Karaku about skin care.

• Is much more of a tea kind of person and loves herbal tea (chamomile is his favorite)

• Not really much of a sweets kind of person.

• IS A VERY LIGHT SLEEPER. Imagine Karaku x10!! Will wake up if he hears the smallest sound or if the temperature is not to his liking (he keeps his place on 64 degrees AT ALL TIMES).

• Aizetsu is a very gentle, understanding, sweet, and thoughtful person and he has times where he second guesses himself but he definitely has a good crowd of people around him to keep his head held high.

UROGI

• Like his past incarnation he’s the second to last born. His Birthday is January 4th, 1999 ( he’s only 11 months younger than Aizetsu)

• He is most DEFINITELY a wild child lmao! He’s like Karaku x3000 when it comes to getting a thrill out of doing some shit. As a child he used to like to jump off of crazy shit and oddly would not get hurt 😅

• Has always been hella adventurous since he was a young lad. Always loved being outdoors and being in nature and still does in his adulthood. Likes going hiking & climbing. He feels at peace outdoors.

• He once climbed a whole fucking billboard and sat there for like 10 minutes ( Karaku and one of their cousins has a recording of him climbing it)

• Not only is he super flexible and athletic but he’s also very musically inclined too. His singing voice is on par with Aizetsu and he can read and write music (to an extent).

• Urogi works at the same bar as Karaku (Yes they work together) literally trouble but make it double 😂😂. Much to anyone’s surprise they don’t cause THAT much chaos. If Karaku is thing one then Urogi is thing two!

• He also loves coming up with different type of recipes and they are all a hit. Him and Karaku compete to see whose drinks are the best at work but it’s all brotherly competition and never any hard feelings.

• Heavily into gymnastics too & have been since he was little! So you know he keeps his body in great condition and goes to the gym everyday! He is about 6’1 1/2.

• Academically he made a mixture of A’s, B’s, and some C’s. Never went below a C. Is very smart but is whole ass class clown. It only took one time for his parents to get onto him and he never caused any significant distractions again lmao. Did not want to attend college but chose to follow what he felt was good for him. At first his parents were a little mad but they let Urogi decide what was best for him and supported whatever he decided (WE LOVE GOOD NON TOXIC PARENTING 🥹).

• Can cook but absolutely hates doing it. Prefers takeout instead and only cooks when he is in the mood to do so.

• Very much a HEAVY ASS SLEEPER & SNORES. Can probably sleep through a loud ass storm.

• Smells very earthy but not in a bad way. Like a combination of Pine and Sandalwood. (His favorite body wash is Dove Sandalwood for its earthy tone) Has seasonal breakouts but worst during winter (poor baby)

• He definitely smokes weed but by himself or with Karaku.

• His weakness: HE LOVES SWEETS & JUNK FOOD. Mans can literally eat a XL pizza by himself.

• Urogi is all together a very friendly, eclectic, and outgoing person and everyone can’t help but love him (even though he sometimes drives them crazy) 😂

ZOHAKUTEN

• He’s the last born baby of the brothers! He was born July 21st, 2007 so he is a Cancer baby!

• Like Sekido and Aizetsu, Zohakuten is a rather quiet, reserved person. But he is hellllaaaaa blunt. Zohakuten’s tone may come off a bit direct and blunt and a little harsh but I think he means well. (Sometimes)

• INTROVERTED.

• Also like his brother, he DEFINITELY has a resting bitch face and is his dads literally mini me.

• He is very much into art and loves graphic design. He’s also a very skilled digital artist as well.

• As a matter of fact, he drew the dragon design that Sekido has tattooed on his back for his birthday last year.

• He is still in high school and is very close to his senior year!! He makes excellent grades in school with straight A’s and has always.

• He is also a band student too! He plays the snare drums.

• After Highschool he does hope to help his dad out at the studio and work to save up for college. He wants to pursue a career in art.

• Since he still lives at home of course he gets spoiled by his parents but I don’t see him being the petty type like rubbing it in his brothers faces. Hell they be spoiling him too.

• He hits the gym with his brothers when they go. It’s like part of a bonding experience.

• He is about 5’9 ( his mom thinks that he’s on the brink of a major growth spurt.) For more context, their mom is 5’11 (momma a stallionnnn) and their dad is 6’7.

• HE HATES SWEETS! Prefers spicy foods though! Literally will go through a family sized bag of hot chips in 30 minutes and nobody knows how. (Not even me.) 😂😂😂.

• HEAVY ASS SLEEPER! That’s it that’s the post.

• Is willing to learn how to cook but only trusts his mother or Sekido to teach him.

• Karaku got him into zodiac signs too. He didn’t understand the concept at first until he read further and started seeing his attitude traits in what he read on Cancers.

• Not a people person but it is not as bad as his past incarnation where he bathed in hatred. Is willing to make some changes to his attitude and approach especially pursuing a career that deals with customers commissioning him for his arts but PLEASE do not piss him off or rush his work.

• He may not show it but he lovvvveesssss and adores his family!

I genuinely hope you all enjoyed my headcanons. I had been putting it off and putting it off and making revisions but I think that I love my headcanons for them. There are of course some more to come though so keep your eyes peeled. I will eventually start writing for more fandoms but I gotta let this Hantengu clone brainrot out somehow lmao.

I tag: @i-karaku-swear-i-dont-smoke-weed @ch3rriiii-bunn @hakujisstuff @bbkook @its-freaking-jordan @yunaarts

#hantengu clones #sekido #karaku #aizetsu #urogi #zohakuten #kny headcanons #kimetsu no yaiba #black writer #Hantengu clone headcanons

[factual-fantasy]

10 asks! Thank you!! :}} 🌞

AHEHEHE KICKING MY FEET AND GIGGLING LIKE A DORK AT THIS 😭😭💞🥺💖💖 THANK YOU SO MCUH!! I DO MY BEST TO MAKE THE EXPRESSIONS KF THE CHARACTERS READABLE AND DRIPPING WITJ EMOTION SO IM GLAD ITS WORKING!! :DD ✨💞✨💖✨

@gummysusie

Oh there's lots I'd be willing to eat if I had to! XDD

My memory ain't the best but off the top of my head-- I'm sure eating miltank meat wouldn't disturb me so much! :0

I like fish so there's a lot of those I'd be willing to try! Magikarp, uhhh those two grumpy fish that are either green/red or green/blue! I forgot the name..

Of course all of the food themed ones would be relatively no problem. Fidough, Milcery.. There's some bird ones that wouldn't be too upsetting too! XDD

As long as my brain relates them to earthly animals, I'm not too disturbed by the thought of eating them XD Im sure they have to eat pokemon in the actual pokemon universe! Where else do their meat based dishes come from? How else do they feed their carnivorous pokemon??

@girlsackthing

Not recently :(( but I'd like to pick it up again someday once I'm feeling better! :}}

@illogically-austere

Hey thanks for checking in, that means a lot 🥹

I'm hanging in there as best I can. I haven't eaten much but am getting plenty of water and rest! I'm hoping this horrible health trial thingy I've been going through is over soon <:}}

@sussyhahag

y a l i k e j a z z ?

@littlelightfish

Hey pal, I hope You're doing alright! Hang in there.. <:}}

I haven't worked much on Tuna's backstory recently.. but I imagined that his blood family was gone.. he lived on a ship with a real rotten crew that was horrible to him.

As for how he joined Seafoam's crew, I imagined that the crew rescued him somehow. Maybe Tuna's old crew attacked Seafoam's crew but he kicked their butts. Perhaps in all the chaos Tuna was left behind by "mistake", only for Foam to welcome him aboard?

Maybe his old crew got too intense and he ran, somehow running into Seafoam and he offered shelter? Or maybe his old ship sank and he was found by Seafoam..? Something along those lines-- XD

Anywho- thank you! Things are starting to look up for me, I'm hoping this journey is almost over! <:}}

@raven-bearden-the-interviewer42

"Seafoam's heart 🥰..... Metaphorically I mean-"

I would assume so! :0 Maybe a cookie like that already exists in the games!

Well that's hard to say.. I usually draw comics all in one pass. I sketch out the entire comic, and then I go back and draw all the line art, and then I go back and color it all in..

So in that sense 1 drawing for a comic could take days to complete. But if I were to focus on just one panel/drawing? I would guesstimate about 10-15 minutes :0

Now my name! My memory is a little foggy.. but one of my favorite things to do in drawing is to apply logic, reason and explanations for things.

For example, Captain Barnacles! He's a polar bear wearing a full suit and lives out in the Pacific Ocean. Obviously there's a lot that doesn't make sense about that- but mainly the fact that Barnacles would be way too hot!

So I remedy this by making my version of Barnacles have very short fur, a special diet that thins out his blubber, and a special suit that helps keep him cool! It's not perfect obviously but it helps make him living out in the Pacific seem more reasonable. Which is what I love to do, and how I thought of my name! Applying fact to fantasy, Factual Fantasy!

Hm, Bibi's worst fear.. that would have to be something bad happening to me or any of the fam I'd assume <XD

Nothing bad actually happened to Red, that nightmare just manifested because she loves/worries about him so much 🥺💞 Like a mother having dreams about their children getting hurt. Nothing exactly happened to cause it, but they just worry about their babies so much that those dreams happen sometimes..

And lastly, thank you! It's looking good that I might finally get out of this pit. So my spirits are high! :}}

@beryl-shade (sorry for the late response! <:D)

He typically will not allow it 😅 I originally had a drawing idea for this ask but I dont have the strength to get to my PC so I can just explain it!-

I imagined Octo and some of the crew all tied to chairs with some other pirates taunting them. Octo looks very bored and very unintimidated.

Well one of the pirates makes the mistake of grabbing one of Octos tentacles and twirling it around. Octo immediately reacts and uses the other tentacles on his head to restrain his hand and start choking the guy-

The rest of the crew is just laughing and calling that pirate an idiot while he continues to struggle to get away from the angry Octo 🤣

Now on the other hand, if he gets a joking pat on the head from Seafoam? Or if Red is up on his shoulders and he pulls on Octo's hair by mistake? Eh, whatever he doesn't mind much. : '

#my response #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cookie run ocs #my ocs

[photo1030]

Leather and Lace - Chapter 14: It’s Such a Perfect Day

Summary: You and Arthur go on your first "non-date" date, not even realizing it. *I got the idea for this one listening to Lou Reed's song "Perfect Day".

Just a perfect day You made me forget myself I thought I was someone else Someone good

*This stunning image was found on Pintrest, posted by Gail Hall. Awesome page, check her out. 

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

It is late morning and you turn your face up into the warm sunlight, squinting your eyes closed to the bright light. A contented hum escapes your lips as you settle into the languid sway of your horse's gait. It is an almost hypnotic motion, one that is always so comforting to you. Sighing deeply, you eventually open your eyes to look upon the vista stretched out ahead of you as you ride through the countryside. You could never tire of this view. The rolling landscape is lush with the vibrant colors of the fall foliage that has now started to turn for the season. The grasses sway softly with a slight breeze that kicks up every now and again as if Mother Nature was to remind you to stay awake and pay attention to the wonder around you. 

You look over to your right and see your traveling companion following suit. Arthur is not as awe-struck as you are when you're out and about like this, as he is out of camp more often than you. Arthur is used to roaming and sleeping under the night sky, being exposed to the natural elements and such. But even though he is used to it, it doesn't mean that he doesn't appreciate it just the same. Arthur is not one for "city-life" and is more at home in the countryside. He is in his most relaxed state when he's just as he is now:  on his horse, casually riding through the hillsides, with nothing but the clouds in the sky and the occasional squirrels in the trees to keep him company. The only other thing that could make it any more perfect for him when he is out like this is if you are riding alongside with him, just as you are now. You are not together as a couple, yet you both find great comfort in each other's presence, an unspoken "thing" between you. And with that notion, as if he internally knows your mind, he turns to look back at you as well. Meeting each other's gazes, not a word is said between you, and he returns just the smallest grin, but one that makes those lines around his eyes crinkle with happiness.

Today, you and Arthur have spent the morning hunting, trying to stock up on more food and supplies for your group. The task has proven most successful as you have brought down two deer and a handful of pheasant. Along the way, you came across an apple tree that still bore fruit, so you quickly grabbed what you could that wasn't rotten or picked-at by the birds. You even came across a rogue squash vine that was growing along a fence post! (Probably seeded there by either critters or a vegetable tossed to the side like garbage). Elated with your score, you and Arthur head back to camp with more than enough meat and a few sacks of wild fruit and vegetables, even mushrooms, that you've found along the way. At the moment, you are humming and singing your favorite songs off and on as you let Blue wander at his own pace beneath you. You even catch Arthur humming along with you, with a few words being mumbled in there as lyrics as well. The two of you are in such high spirits this morning, but unfortunately, things are about to take a turn. When you get back to the camp, you and Arthur are faced with the wall of negativity that is everyone else's foul mood.

You and Arthur get your horses hitched up and begin to carry the meat and bundles of other food over to the food wagon. As you approach Mr. Pearson to bring him the provisions, you are met with his horrible out-of-tune singing as he fusses about, preparing whatever concoction he's planning for today's meal. It makes you cringe inside a bit, causing your nose to wrinkle with the discomfort to your ears. But Pearson's horrible caterwauling is soon drowned out by the sound of bickering off in the distance. Dutch and Molly are at it again, and everyone can hear the yelling across the camp, even with them enclosed within their tent. Their harsh tones and constant hollering seems to swell by the minute. You and Arthur exchange an uneasy glance amongst yourselves before turning around to head off in the opposite direction if you can, desperate to find reprieve.

But the two of you simultaneously halt where you stand as the off-setting choice in the other direction is not that much better. Off in the remainder of the camp, Ms. Grimshaw is after Tilly once again, the two of them exchanging bitter snaps with each other. To your right, Bill and Lenny are having a heated debate over a game of cards. And although you can only faintly hear them, off to your left, you can see that Abigail and John have gotten into it. And by the way their arms are swinging around, it seems to be a fight that is rivaling the one that Dutch and Molly are having at the same time. Hosea smartly took Jack out for a walk to get away from all of the noise, and Charles is practically hiding up on the hill, working on new arrows. And to complete the sad sight, your eyes land on Uncle, passed-out drunk already under the tree.

Your surroundings are darkly depressing and you suddenly feel very trapped, like arms of oppression are closing in around you. You and your "family" live hard lives, difficult lives, and it is hard to have moments of unadulterated happiness such as the one that you and Arthur shared earlier this morning. Which is why you suddenly feel very defensive about prolonging the lovely mood that not only you are in, but have managed to procure for Arthur as well. This man constantly exudes exhaustion, evidence of it settled deep in his blue eyes at all times. And you were just so pleased that you were able to offer him just a bit of comfort and escape by simply getting him away from the trappings and responsibilities of the camp, even if it was just for a few hours this morning.

As you stand there, you can feel your face pull up in annoyance. You were floating on clouds just moments ago after your morning with Arthur, and now you have come back to this disheartening sight. You sigh deeply, feeling your shoulders dropping by the second. You shift your weight from hip to hip, debating on what to do. Arthur must feel the same way as you, as he has yet to leave your side. In fact, instead of running off and hiding in the safety and seclusion of his tent, his body slowly drifts to move closer to yours, almost as if to shield you from all of this ugliness. "Arthur?" you quietly say his name, fearing that you're about to get swept up in the wave of everyone else's bad temperament. And as you look over, you can see your own misery mirrored in Arthur's face as he stares about at the chaos with a deep scowl quickly setting upon his brow.

"Way ahead of ya, sweetheart," he mumbles. "C'mon," he tugs your elbow to follow him as he abruptly spins on his heels to head back to the horses. You are right behind him, rushing to get back to the hitching post. You and Arthur both walk at a rapid pace and with great purpose in your strides. You don't even have to speak another word to each other as you both quickly get back on your horses and spur out of the camp, desperate to get out before anyone tries to stop either of you.  

Only once the two of you have made your hasty departure and you are out at a safe distance from the camp, does Arthur finally speak up. "So, what do you want to do now?," he asks you as he runs his fingers through his hair before he readjusts his hat upon his head. "We probably got a few hours to kill before all that nonsense back home blows over," he says nodding over his shoulder at the people left behind you.

"Why don’t we go into town?" you suggest. "Maybe skip over to Ourey? I'm sure we can find something to occupy our time there." The newer town of Ourey had popped up when the railroad expanded in from Silverton and the town was quick to build up. For its law-abiding citizens, Ourey provides churches, diners, merchants, and even a new school, while the other side of town hosts numerous saloons and brothels. So it offers a little bit for everyone, as they say, making it a fine choice for you and Arthur to spend your day together.

"Alright, then." His response is simple and agreeable, making you chuckle. Arthur Morgan can be so intimidating and difficult sometimes. Yet other times, he is like a puppy that could follow you around endlessly.

So you head to Ourey, the trip taking about an hour on horseback. The ride over is pleasant, as usual, for you two. You chit-chat about everything as you ride together and enjoy the scenery along the way. Upon arrival, the two of you begin to walk around the busy town, surveying the atmosphere. There seems to be plenty of activity and people milling about today. "Well, this was your idea," Arthur says, turning towards you as he scratches at the stubble on his scarred chin. "What do you want to do while we're here?"

You think a moment, weighing your options. Your eyes fixate on nothing, going into a blank stare and your mouth twists up and your lips pull in on themselves as a result of your deep thought. You rarely get the chance, not only to be out from camp, but to be alone with Arthur, and you don't want to waste such an opportunity. "I don't want to do anything that I don’t want to do," you finally conclude.

Arthur stares at your for a moment, taking in your over-simplified statement. "Well, that narrows things down," he says with a slight snort of derision, pulling his cigarette case out of his satchel and placing one of the smokes between his plump lips.

You roll your eyes at him as you playfully back-hand your forearm into his chest. "Look, I don't care what we do, as long as there’s no laundry tub or pan of dirty dishes involved. There's no one around to tell us what to do for once. So let’s just walk around and do whatever strikes our fancy in the moment," you chirp with a slight shrug of your shoulders.

"Sounds like as good a plan as any," he drawls, shaking out the match as he takes a long drag off of the cigarette as he patiently waits for you to dictate the next move.

You take a moment, spinning about slightly to look around the town. You can hear music playing softly in the distance somewhere. "Sounds like they have a band playing in the square. Why don't we go over there and sit a bit until we figure out what to do, yeah?" you suggest. "Sounds good to me," he agrees and he follows your lead when you tug on his jacket sleeve to follow you.

The two of you amble over to the public square where a small quintet sits under a gazebo and is performing to a moderate-sized crowd. You both find a place in the small grandstand that was built for seating and listen to the music, taking in scene. You don't get much entertainment, living out in the woods as you do. The only music you get to hear is when you and Javier play and sing together, or Dutch fires up his gramophone. 

You and Arthur sit close to each other, contently listening. You even catch him humming and tapping his fingers along to the music at one point. You try to be inconspicuous as you shyly look him over. His tan leather jacket fits him so well, worn-down and broken-in from so much use that it is almost like a second skin to him. The collar of his black shirt that he's wearing underneath pokes out and frames his face nicely. Seeing him so content in this moment of time brings a certain joy to your heart and you shuffle just a bit closer to him, wanting so much to take-in and be a part of his happiness. He doesn't realize how close you have moved to him until he glances down when he feels your leg brush up against his own. Arthur stares at the sight of you being in such close proximity to him for a brief moment before looking up to your face to see you simply smiling back at him. The feeling between you two is electric as you hold each other's gaze for that lingering moment. Its like a force of nature that is inevitable to deny and it drowns out all others as if you two are the only ones in the world. You don't say a word, as nothing needs to be said right now, but simply bump your shoulder into his in acknowledgement.

When you eventually turn your attention back to the musicians, you notice a boy, about twelve years old, walking about the crowd, selling roasted walnuts. He calls out to the people, announcing his goods to sell. Arthur lifts his hand and nods to motion the boy over. "Whatcha got there, kid?" his voice is deep but always soft when he speaks to youngsters.

"Roasted walnuts, sir," says the boy as he hurries over to Arthur, excited to make a sale. "Picked 'em myself. I got salted and candied." The boy is young, but definitely knows how to peddle his wares to a crowd.

"We'll take some of them candied ones," says Arthur as he digs a few coins out of his satchel. Looking at the boy, you notice that his hands are dirty and his clothes a little worse for wear. You imagine that he's doing whatever he can to get money, even selling nuts out of the tree in his yard. But Arthur doesn't call him out on it, but instead treats this boy with respect, just as if he were a professional adult. "Better make it two," Arthur says after thinking a moment, noting just as you are, that this boy probably needs the money just as much, or more, than the two of you do. "The lady here has a sweet tooth", he winks at the boy and he nods in your direction with a grin. The boy's head bobs up and down excitedly at the prospect of doubling his sale and quickly hands over two paper bags with the delicious treat, and gratefully takes the coins out of Arthur's hands in return. Your heart melts as you watch them interact. This man has a heart bigger than he lets on, and you are just so grateful to be a part of his life. The boy gives Arthur a quick "Thanks, mister!" before moving on through the crowd.

"Here you go," says Arthur nonchalantly as if he didn't just do the most adorable thing, in your opinion, and hands you one of the bags. You give him a demure little smile as you take it out of his hands, your fingers glancing across his knuckles as you do, saying "Thank you". You pop a few of the walnut meats into your mouth and savor the delicious notes of sugar, molasses and spices dancing on your palate. Even Arthur lets out a brief and involuntary hum of pleasure as he tosses a handful across his own tongue.

You begin to casually look around the town again and take notice of a particular sign outside of one of the buildings. Upon seeing it, an idea immediately forms in your head and you tap Arthur's leg to get his attention. "Come on, I know what I want to do next!" you exclaim as you stand up with an excited look upon your face. Your sudden movement startles Arthur slightly, and he gives you a confused look as he looks up at you before standing up to follow you. "Jesus, its like walkin' 'round with a little kid," he jokingly mutters to you. You absentmindedly grab his hand with a giggle, tugging him after you. You are too wound up in your plan to think about what you're doing at the moment, but Arthur is quick to take notice your soft fingers wrapped around his meaty bear-paw. He's too fixated on the sight of your hands clasped together to notice where you are dragging him to.

After walking a few yards, you stop in front of a large white brick building, used as the common area for the town. There is a big sign on an A-frame stand in front that reads "ART SHOW". You look up at Arthur with a spirited grin, to which he only gives a questioning lift of his eyebrow. "Really, (Y/N)?" he asks you skeptically. "Yep! Wouldn't hurt to get a little more culture in our lives, Arthur" you snicker, your shoulder pulled up to your chin flirtatiously as you look up at him through your long eyelashes. This slight movement of your body makes him want to do anything and everything that you'd ask of him right now. "Sure", he sighs in resignation. "Let's go get 'cultured'," as he waves his arm in the direction of the building. You let out a slight squeal of excitement and push open the door, Arthur's arm coming up over your head to hold it open for you as he stays close behind.

The two of you step inside the building and its one great hall, open and expansive with large windows to let in plenty of natural light. Scattered about are partitions with various pieces of artwork mounted to them. Your mouth drops a bit in awe and excitement at the sight of it as you take it all in in one sweeping glance. "Good Afternoon, sir...miss," the usher greets you at the door. "Today's display is that of Chicago artist Christopher Palmer. Pieces are for sale as marked. Please, enjoy." And he swings his arm out to usher the two of you in to the room. "Thank you," you reply sweetly, as Arthur simply nods to the man in response as the two of you walk past with Arthur protectively placing his fingers along the small of your back as he falls in step behind you.

You and Arthur wander about the room together, looking at the various pieces of artwork. The pieces are drawings, sketches done in both charcoal and colored pastels. They are of various subjects, covering landscapes and sunsets, but mostly portraits; images of people in a range of states: old and young, smooth-skinned young women with delicate curves, and hardened men with frown lines and piercing eyes.

"You could be in here, you know?" you suggest to Arthur as the two of you stand in front of one of the walls, studying a particular piece.  

"What are you talkin’‘bout?" snorts Arthur, glancing at you slightly in doubt.

"Your drawings. You’re just as good, if not better, than this artist," you flick your wrist at the current sketch in front of you.

"You’re crazy," he dismisses you, turning his attention back to studying the sketch on the wall, his head tilted slightly as he notes the lines and technique of the artwork in front of him.

You eye him up a moment, trying to think of a proper response to his ever self-deprecating comments. "Yeah, you’re probably right. You’re not that good. Really bad, now that I think about it," you tease sarcastically.

"Hey, I’m not that bad." he retorts back at you.

"Yeah, you kinda are, now that I really stop and think about it," you smile mischievously at him.

"Hey, I’m good," Arthur justifies, knowing full-well that you are goading him now and decides to play along.

"Eh," you shrug. "It’s like looking at a toddler's doodling, to be honest," you continue.

Arthur turns fully to you now, giving you a hard stare, to which you simply smile innocently, trying to suppress a laugh. "You’re a brat, you know that?"

"Yep. Most definitely," you agree, tilting your head slightly with a light-hearted giggle as you slip your arm through his to lead him to the next collection on the wall. The two of you continue to casually walk through the room, taking your leisurely time, yet you leave your arm draped over his as you do, like a right and proper couple. Neither of you would admit it to the other, but you are each enjoying the fantasy of pretending. You could've pulled your arm away from his, but you don't. You like the feeling of comfort that the contact brings. Arthur walks with his head held high, a sense of pride radiating off of him. It feels good to have you on his arm, like you belong there. He even catches the glances from a few of the other patrons, an older couple, who observe the two of you with an approving smile. Arthur is genuinely having a nice time here with you. His usual scowl is replaced with a look of contentment, happiness even. He’d never believe it, but he is that much more handsome with a confident bounce in his step.

After you have finished your walk-through of the artwork, Arthur suggests that the two of you continue your day together and go over to one of the saloons for a drink and something to eat. Of course you agree, wanting to extend your day-trip out as long as you can. The walk to the saloon isn't too far from the town hall where you just left the artshow, and it doesn't take you long to get there. There are a few saloons in this town, but you head over to your favorite one.

Upon pushing through the doors  of the bar, you and Arthur take in the crowd, assessing how busy they are today. "I'm going to 'powder my nose'. Go ahead and grab us a table, I'll be right back," you tell Arthur, placing your hand upon his forearm as you give him a big smile before you proceed to walk across the room and towards the hall that leads to the public outhouse in the back. Arthur doesn't say a word, but simply watches you go. His eyes follow your path the entire time, not breaking contact, until you are physically out of his sight. He sighs deeply with a stupid, love-sick grin on his face. Part of him wants to follow you out back and pin you up against the wall of the building and plant a desperate and passionate kiss upon your perfect lips. But no. He's just not there yet. He still can't quite tell if you are just really good friends, or if there is the possibility of more there. But he is in no rush today. As long as you are here with him now, he really doesn't care to what capacity it is.

Arthur saunters over to the bar and places his large hands on the wooden top, catching the barkeep's attention with a slight lift of his chin. The gang has been in this bar quite a few times and you have gotten familiar with this particular bartender. His name is Dave and he's a mild-mannered fellow, but you can tell that he is not a man that you want to anger. He's not as large as Arthur, but he's large enough, with thick arms and a keen eye, and able to quell any fights and such that occasionally pop up in his establishment. If Arthur had to guess, Dave has a past of his own and is using this bar as a way to "go legit". And because of that, Arthur and Dave have a mutual respect whenever Arthur is here.

"What can I get for you today, my friend?" Dave asks Arthur, as he walks over, picking up a rag on his way and gives the bar a quick swipe.

"'Afternoon, Dave," Arthur greets him in return. "Just takin' the day off today with a friend of mine. Can I get a couple of beers and a plate of whatever you got back there?"

"Sure thing. Go ahead and grab a table. I'll get Theresa to bring it over to you," says Dave, nodding to the room of tables and chairs behind Arthur.

"Thank you, kindly," says Arthur, tossing a few coins on the bar with a grin.

He turns around and is about to make his way over to pick out a table in the corner for you and him, when a woman suddenly steps in front of him, blocking his path. His eyes instantly darken in confusion as he is halted in his actions.

"Well my, my, look at you, handsome," the woman purrs to Arthur. "Just where are you off to in such a rush, hmm?" She looks Arthur up and down with a sultry look upon her face. Her face is all done-up with make-up, a little bit too much in over-compensation, and she has a tight-fitting red dress on, one that plunges in the front to accent her amble bosom. The color and the design of the dress leave little to the imagination. Arthur doesn't recognize her, so she must be a fairly new working girl in the saloon.

"Ma'am," Arthur stiffly nods his head to acknowledge her. "I'm just goin' over to catch a seat at one of them tables over there," he tries his best to be polite, clearly not wanting anything to do with this sort of thing, before trying to walk around her and move on. But she is not going to let a prospective job get away so easily. Especially not one as attractive as Arthur. She observed how kindly he treated you when you walked into the saloon together. And she is hoping to not only be able to earn some money today, but to be with someone who also happens to not be an asshole while doing it.

"Oh hey, now, hold on a second," she sings to him, placing her hand on his chest to stop him. "I was thinking you and me could go off and have a little fun together?" she leans in a little closer to Arthur, lifting her eyebrow suggestively. "My name is Marie. What's yours, handsome?" and Marie reaches down and takes ahold of Arthur's wrist, lifting his hand up and begins to play with his fingers seductively.

"None of your business," replies Arthur flatly, trying to push past Marie. But she is quick to keep herself in his path once again, still holding his large hand in her own. And this time, seeing that she isn't making any progress with him, she tries a more daring move, and places Arthur's hand onto her own chest, sitting his palm flat on the soft skin between her collarbone and curvature of her breasts. She then begins to trail her fingers along his arm, as if to entice him into her bidding.

Arthur's eyes shoot open at the shock of such a bold invitation. He stands there motionless, not sure what to do. But the weird tension between them is quickly broken when he hears someone clear their throat with a simple "Ahem". Arthur and Marie both turn their heads to see you standing there, eyebrows raised in question as you observe them, smiling in amusement with your arms crossed over your chest.

Poor Arthur, he looks so uncomfortable. And the look on his face when you've caught him, literally red-handed, is priceless. "(Y/N)! Uh...erm..this isn’t what it looks like," he says awkwardly in his defense to you.

"It looks like you have your hand on that woman’s chest, Arthur," you reply calmly, with a grin that he can't quite read. Are you mad? Do you happen to find this situation comical? But you know how aggressive the working girls can be. And you can tell right away by the expression on his face, that this situation was not of Arthur's prompting.

"Oh, uh, then it is what it looks like, but what it looks like isn’t really what it is," he stammers, desperately trying to make a coherent thought, yet his hand has yet to move, as he is frozen in motion.

"Thank you for clearing that up," you say after making him sweat it out for a brief moment. And you walk away from the two of them, rolling your eyes, as you make your way to one of the tables to sit and wait for your lunch. Arthur awkwardly looks back at Marie, who in fear of getting her ass beat for trying to steal someone else's man, has smartly kept her mouth shut. He looks down at his hand that is still sitting on her chest before quickly snatching it away from her again, a scowl on his face and the dust of a shameful blush crossing his cheeks. "Go on, get outta here," he waves Marie off quietly. And accepting that she's not getting anywhere with this one, Marie gives a slight huff of frustration and quickly moves on to find herself another target.

Arthur slowly makes his way over to the table where you have chosen to sit. You have picked one of the tables in the corner by a window, ironically the one that he was heading to himself, and you are sitting quietly, occupied with fidgeting with your fingernails, until the waitress, Theresa, walks over and places two beers on the table in front of you. You give her an appreciative smile and a gracious 'Thank you', before you take a long gulp of the ale and swipe the edges of your mouth with your fingers, as if nothing is wrong. Arthur sheepishly sits down at the table across from you. "I’m sorry about that," he finally offers to you, not able to make direct eye contact with you.

"For what? I’m not your wife," you chuckle. "You can touch whomever you please," you say nonchalantly with a brief wave of your hand to dismiss the topic before you take another swig from your bottle. "Don't worry about it."

"Yeah but…I don’t want you to think I'm that sort of man," he says in earnest, looking at you fully now, his face laced with concern. He really hopes that he didn't just screw everything up with you with some stupid stunt.

"And what sort is that?" you ask softly, your eyelids blinking slowly as you lean forward on the table, placing your chin in your hand as you meet his gaze.

"The kind that paws at a woman like that," he says, embarrassed that he even has to explain this to you, his face starting to go red again.

"Oh, I know you’re not like that," you reassure him. "That’s one of the reasons why I like you so much," you grin as you reach across the table with your free hand and wrap it around his in comfort. Relief washes over him immediately, and oddly enough, your understanding of him makes Arthur feel even better than he did before.

The day continues on, and after lunch and another round of lively conversation, the two of you leave Ourey and spend the time roaming the land on your horses, enjoying a slow pace, as if time doesn't matter; as if it is just the two of you in the world with no other cares or responsibilities waiting back home for either of you.

 As you take the road to start to head home, Arthur suddenly announces that he is taking you on a little detour. "I got something to show you," he says. "C'mon, this way," and he gives you that twinkle in his eye again over his shoulder.

Intrigued, you spur Blue into a faster canter behind Arthur and Buck to keep up. He takes you down a stray path about thirty minutes off the main trail, heading deeper into the woods and away from the more populated areas. 

As you ride further on, you start to hear water off in the distance. Eventually, the trail leads up to a small lake that the local river feeds into. It is surrounded by a thick ring of trees, tall oaks and wide evergreens, and there is a small waterfall cascading softly off to the side, carrying water in from further up the hillside and cliffs surrounding the area.

You and Arthur both pull your horses to a halt, stopping for a moment to take in the beautiful sight. "Found this place when I was looking for that Wilson bounty a few weeks ago," says Arthur, nodding his head. "Been meaning to bring you up here to show you." He turns to look at you, curious to your reaction. He is hoping that you find it as special as he did the first time that he came across it. But when he sees your jaw drop slightly in awe, he knows the answer to his query.

A huge smile graces your lips. You exchange a look with Arthur before you quickly hop down out of Blue's saddle and walk over the water’s edge. "Would you look at that water!" you say astonished, your hands resting on your hips as you gaze at the lake. Arthur slowly swings his leg over the saddle and climbs down from his own horse. He walks a few steps and absentmindedly rubs the velvety skin of Buck's nose while he watches you. You bend over, reaching down, and trail your fingertips into the cool water, snaking them back and forth and observing how the liquid elegantly ripples. The water catches the sunlight as the sun starts its journey down to the horizon again for the day. The sensation of the water moving between your fingers with a slight rippling sound is mesmerizing. You keep playing like a child, swirling your hand around and around. You could simply pitch forward into that pool and float weightless forever under its current. Then suddenly, you stand, shaking your hand dry. "Let’s go for a swim!" you declare definitively, your eyes wide and an air of excitement in your voice.  

Arthur's face twists with confusion as he is pulled out of his reverie of watching you play with the water. “What?”

"A swim!" you repeat yourself. "You do know how to, don’t you?" you ask teasingly.

“Yeah, of course I do,but…” he replies uneasily, shifting his weight, his boots scratching slightly into the dirt.

"But what?" you cut him off. You're not about to let him off the hook that easily.

"What if someone sees us? Gets the wrong idea?," he suggests, his body fidgeting slightly now with nervousness as his thumbs tuck into his gunbelt.

"No one’s gonna come along out here," you wave dismissively. "And besides, what idea is that?" you ask suggestively, raising your eyebrow at him.

"Well...you know…", he says with a gesture of his hand towards you, his face getting red again.

"Oh, so stealing and shooting people is OK for you, but you frown upon skinny dipping? Is that it?" you fold your arms in challenge, that same devilish smile sitting on your lips.

He sighs in frustration, having the moral debate in his head. Being put in such a precarious situation, he’s not so sure he’d be able to control himself if something were to start between you two. Today has been so perfect. And he really doesn’t want to risk ruining it by doing something stupid or offensive. But, then again, Arthur never can say 'no' to you. And you know it. He hangs his head for a brief moment, hands on his hips, before looking back up at you again. "Alright, fine," he caves, and you clap your hands quickly with a slight hop of excitement in victory.  

You stand there a minute, looking at him expectantly. "Well? Are you going to turn around so I can get undressed or what?" you ask as you spin your finger to indicate for him to look away.

"Oh!…yeah…right," he says, flustered. Arthur turns his back to give you privacy, his hands starting to sweat nervously as he rubs his thumb into the palm of his opposite hand as he waits. His eyes stare straight ahead as he hears the flutter of fabric behind him and tries not to think about that fact that you are stripping down at this very moment right behind him, just mere feet from him. He can hear his own heartbeat in his ears at this point, like thunder rumbling to an oncoming storm. Jesus, what was he thinking bringing you here?

It only takes a few minutes until he hears water splashing and a brief yelp from you the moment that the cool water touches your skin. The feeling of the water brings your senses to life, full-on; from the invigorating temperature, to the way you glide and float as your limbs cut through the natural resistance of the water. You swim out far enough to cover yourself before turning around and calling back to Arthur on the shore. "OK, your turn now!" Arthur turns slowly, eyes searching until they find you out in the water. He stands perfectly still, not saying anything for a moment as he watches the sun dance off the water around you. You remind him of one of those water nymphs or mermaids from Jack's stories. He instantly notices how graceful you neck is, observing how it curves down to meet your now-bare shoulders, round and soft, and already covered in water droplets that dance with sunlight.

"Come on!" you holler even louder this time, trying to urge him into motion. "You said you’d do it too!"

"No, actually I didn’t agree to anything," Arthur replies calmly, a smirk slowly creeping across his face.

"Yes you did!" your eyes go wide, ready to argue. "I said 'Let’s go swimming' and you said 'fine'! Now, get out here, Morgan!!" you demand with a slight playful laugh.

Arthur sighs dramatically with an eye roll to match. "Fine. Are you gonna turn around now?" he challenges back.

Shaking your head at the big man's bashfulness, you spin in the water again. You gaze upon the waterfall while you wait, mesmerized by its water droplets tapping upon the lake's silvery surface as you hear the jingling of Arthur's gunbelt, followed by his belt buckle. God, you so wish you could turn around and sneak a glimpse of him right now. The temptation is so great at the moment that you catch yourself biting your lips a bit in anticipation. A few moments later, after the ruffling of clothing, you hear him getting into the water.

“Ah, geez! Damn, it’s cold!” he complains bitterly.

"Oh, stop it, you baby! It’s not that bad," you giggle, turning your chin slightly over your shoulder as you call to him.

A few moments of slight splashing and then he is making his way over to you in the water. "Alright, you can turn around now," he says. When you circle back around, waving your arms around in the water to turn yourself, you see Arthur swimming towards you, his chest bobbing in and out from under the water as he gets closer.

"There, you happy now?" he asks in an exaggerated pout.

"Yes, Mr. Morgan, you have made me quite happy," you smile back at him triumphantly.

"Well, that’s good to hear," he says with just a touch of sarcasm and a smile of his own mirroring back at you.

The two of you swim about and splash around for a bit. The water is cool and refreshing as it caresses your skin. The weightlessness of the liquid allows you both a unique opportunity of relaxation that only being submerged in water can offer. The air around the lake is quiet and still, the only sound is the water rippling around you, mixed with the occasional snort of laughter and mischievous conversation between the two of you. You are so thankful that it is just you and Arthur right now; that there is no one else around to dampen your spirits and ruin a perfect moment with their own drama.

It is quite fortuitous that you decided to wear your hair down and unbound today, as you simply cannot resist the urge to get your hair wet. At one point, you tip your head back, allowing the water to encompass your hair, the sensation soothing your scalp. You involuntarily let out an exhale of pure joy.  Arthur observes how such a simple thing can make you so content, and its the most beautiful thing that he's ever seen. His eyes glide down over your neck and on down to your collarbone, relishing the sight of your exposed skin, what little he can see. He watches as you raise your arms up to run your hands through your hair and then down again to fan out across the water's surface as you float there; an angel spreading its wings. Arthur swears his heart is about to burst right here and now within his chest. And then, it dawns on him that now is just as good a time as any to tell you what he's been practicing in his head for a long time now.

"Listen, (Y/N)," he says, catching your attention as you level your head again to meet his eyes. Arthur takes a deep breath. "There’s something I-“

"Oh my God Arthur, look!" you interrupt him suddenly with a shocked look upon your face as you point over his shoulder at the shore behind him. Confused, Arthur quickly spins around in the water to follow your line of sight and there he sees the object of your distraction. A couple of pudgy, rambunctious brown bear cubs have come bumbling out of the woods and down to the water to play. They do not notice you and Arthur and, therefore, pay you no mind. But eventually, a slowly ambling momma bear comes up behind her cubs to keep a careful eye on her offspring. The two little cubs are walking along the small beach, sniffing about, and begin to nose around your discarded clothing that they have found.

It is an awesome sight to see, but it doesn't take long before you realize the danger that you are now in. At best, you and Arthur are trapped, naked, in the water. Worst case scenario, that momma bear sees you and decides that you are a threat to her babes. You are suddenly thankful that you decided to let the horses wander untethered, safely away from this predator. You turn your head about quickly to check on them and can see the horses safely grazing off in the distance in the field adjacent to the beach.

"Arthur?" you whisper his name uneasily, swimming closer to him, your eyes never leaving the bears.

"It’s OK," he says quietly, slowly stretching his arm out to protectively move you behind him, yet keeping his steel-blue eyes keenly fixed on the shore as well. "Just stay quiet and as long as we make no advance towards the cubs we should be alright." You simply nod your head silently, obeying his instructions, yet watching the animals carefully.

You and Arthur sit motionless in the water, carefully watching the bear family move about. The adrenaline that courses through your veins is both terrifying and almost exhilarating at the same time. You both just pray that the momma stays calm. The bears sniff around curiously for about twenty minutes before they decide to slowly move on. Fortunately for you and Arthur, there is no commotion or problem from them at all. They are simply out scrounging for food before retiring for the evening. As you watch them make their way into the woods again, you slowly roll your eyes back into your head in relief. Once the bears are out of sight, you lean in closer to Arthur and whisper, "I think it’s time to go."

"I wholly agree," he nods. "I’ll go first, make sure it’s clear, and then you come on out," he says quietly over his shoulder, still wanting to keep his movements slow and calculated.  

"OK, but be careful!" you warn in a hushed tone, concern lacing across your eyebrows as you watch him start wading back to the beach.  

As he gets close to shore, Arthur is about to stand up and suddenly remembers that he’s still naked. “Turn around again!” he waves back at you as you still wait back in the depth of the water.

"But what if you get mauled by a bear?!" you ask, alarmed at the thought of letting Arthur out of your sight for even a second.

“Woman, if I get mauled by a bear, what in the hell are you going to do about it?!” he reminds you exasperatedly, looking at you like you're crazy.

"Oh...right...good point. OK," you say awkwardly, realizing how ridiculous you sound, before you spin around again, allowing Arthur to proceed to shore in discretion.

The man cautiously emerges from the water, looking left and right for any sign of the bears again, as he makes his way to your pile of clothes. He grabs a rag out of his satchel and hastily dries himself off before getting dressed in at least his union suit and jeans. He swipes his hands together, one across the other nervously, as he looks around for any lingering sign of the bears, before deciding that you are out of harm's way.

"Alright, you’re safe to come out," he calls out to the water to you and waves you in, as he spins around for you, now, to make your way to the beach as well.

Quickly, you swim to the shore and once out of the water, you snatch up the bit of cloth Arthur used to dry himself with before you, and start to get dressed, hastily pulling your loose blouse over your head first before fumbling with your skirt.

"I can not believe that just happened!" you say with a chuckle, totally amazed as your fingers work to retie the lacing of your skirt.

But Arthur is less than impressed at the moment as he turns to finish getting dressed. "It’s always something with you, isn’t it?" he asks, rolling his eyes with a huff, shoving his arms through the sleeves of his shirt.

"Oh, come on, now, we’ve had a wonderful day today, Arthur. And you have to admit, seeing those bears was pretty amazing, right?!" Your arms are outstretched emphatically towards him, holding your palms up to accent your point as your face lights up with excitement, so full of life.

“Sure”, he deadpans as he secures his gun belt.

"Oh, come on, Arthur," you whine again. "Don’t be like that…please?" 

Arthur just simply can't get over you. You could have been mauled by a bear, and left to float in the lake, naked, for the fish to eat. Yet here you are, thinking that this was an 'amazing experience'.

And he simply chuckles in disbelief, as he gives you a reluctant smile and shakes his head at the very wonder of you. "Yeah, OK. If we can manage to get back to camp in one piece today, I’ll admit, it’s been a perfect day."

A/N:  OK, so for those who have been following this storyline, we are finally coming to the big moment that my slow-burn has been building to. The next “chapter” will be “Feelings Revealed”. Super excited, as I have been working on that one for almost a year now. I do have an “ask” that I am going to write first (so excited, its my first “ask” ever!) but then on to the “main event”. Stay tuned...

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x f!reader #arthur morgan x reader fluff #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfic

[purpleamethystsblog]

🪬I WILL TAKE BACK WHAT'S MINE (Part 2)🪬

CW : Little swearing / OOC Albedo(?)

Pronounce : She / Her

Gender : Female (Cause it easy for me to write and I don't really write English fanfics often like other.)

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<< Part 1 : Part 3 >>

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“ So excited, that the coldness didn't harm you, your grace. ”

“ Natural doesn't harm me, they said they won't, and never. ”

“ Did you hear them? ”

“ Yes, I did. Cause I'm the REAL CREATOR, Albedo. ”

A while ago……

“ It's very dangerous out there miss. You shouldn't be here. ”

You choke on your saliva. Didn't expect to hear another familiar voice again, but rethink about it. It's all have a high chance to meet the playable characters or unplayable characters that you like everywhere. Because you are the main character in this world too.

“ Or maybe, I shouldn't call you that. Correctly, I should call you 'your grace' ”

He said while approaching to you. His face didn't show any emotions. Your brain tried to thinks about 108 ways to escape from fuck up incident.

He stopped, in front of you, he stares into your eyes before pulling something out of his pocket. It's the same weird flower that you threw a while ago. He stare at it with adoration.

“ Welcome back, thanks for returning to Teyvat again. Your grace .”

Flashback end....

Now, you and Albedo are back in his shelter. There are alchemy tools and books. You wouldn't want to open it. Because it's too difficult for you to understand something like this.

“ The impostor never do something like this. ”

He said while staring at your flower. ( It's still weird in your eyes) You watching him in silence, waiting the next sentence from his mouth.

“ She can creat something, but that "something" it didn't mean to have a life or a soul in it. ”

“ Like just a regular some tools that human always use in daily life? ”

You ask him. He shaking his head.

“ Worst more than that. She created some dead meat or rotten of living things. I can't feel their life or their soul. And she just excuse that her power didn't awake yet. ”

“ Gross. ”

“ Yes, your grace. You're right, its very gross. ”

“ And my weird flower too? ”

“ No, it's totally different. I can feel a little life inside this strange flower that you creat. ”

“ Wow? ”

“ I believe if you said that your power didn't awake right now. ”

“ Why? ”

“ You didn't know about yourself? ”

“ Me just me. Not someone else. ”

“ I see… It's true then. ”

“ What do you mean? ”

“ You will know by yourself. Sorry, I can't tell you now your grace. But I promise one thing, If the world turn against you. I will be by your side. ”

“ … ”

“ Let's try to figure out how to use your power. I'll help you. ”

🪬

F̡̛͜a̢͟͝k̴̵e̛ ͏́͠͞i̵̛͜s͜ ͝͏s̸̷̀͞tí̧̡͞ļ̛͠l ̷f̷̵á͢k̷̢̢͘ȩ͟͢!̧

“ Argh!! ”

C̡̧͞͏a̡̢n̛͘'t́́͡ r͠e͠pļ̡̨́á̡̨c̡̧̛͠ȩ̶͜ ̛͠t͞h́́ȩ̡͘ ̵̀͘͢r̢͝éą̶͜ļ ̷̧͜͡t̵̛͝͡h͏͝͡͞i̴̴͜n҉g!

“ Shut up!!! ”

Ý̶̷̻͉͉͖̲͆̈̓ͧͩ̚͝͡O̡̞̙̖ͦͭͬ̈ͯ͛̕͟ͅŰ̬̻̻̤̋̈͆ͅ͏͏͠R̭̃҉͟͢͟ ̟̗̯̓ͅD̶̶̲̰ͥͭ̔͟͟Ọ̷ͧ̐͟W̦͔̞̜͕͈N͂ͥͪ͘̕F̣͑͌̃̃͟͟͜͠A̸̛̫̣̺̠͌̽͐͜͟Ḽ̶̢̣̲̆̎ͦͫ̍ͯL̴̼̫̭̮̏̿ͨ̂̊̀̚ͅ͏ ̸͈̜͙̞̈ͪ̀͆̑̕ͅIͭ̃͛ͩ͏͟͡S̀ͧ̅ ̵̡͇̟̫̊̓̈̂̎̊ͯ͞C̶̶̴͚̓̈́̾̒͂͟O̼̙͓̩̲͕̿̈͒ͤM͇͈̪ͬͣ̏̊͛ͫI̮͈̔ͯ̂ͣͯ̌ͨ͠N̡̡̹͊͛̔̇̉͏̀G̷̢̥̰͙̖̫͡!̸̠̩͔͘͢!̩͖͗̂̽͑ͣ̀͏͏!̵̸̢̹̹̘̭͖͍̋͠

“ STOP!!! ”

* Bang! *

“ Are you okay your grace!? Didn't someone hurt you? ”

Venti burst in to her room quickly, after he heard his lovely Creator scream in pain. And what he see is, his Creator is shaking in fear.

“ GET OUT OF MY ROOM!!! ”

She scream, don't care about her behaviour. Now her emotions is in swing mode. Venti only step back slowly but he's worried too.

Why his Creator become like this? Who did this?

Of course, she ever throw her tantrums to him, and some Archons too. But this time, it's seem like her tantrum is growing stronger more than before.

He doesn't know why, and he doesn't know how to deal with it. He don't want to inform Zhongli, because he know, that ex-archon have a good talent to deal with this. And when he arrived in Mondstadt to meet our Creator, all the attention that belong to him are gone.

Venti admit in the bottom of his heart, that he secretly envious to Zhongli.

But for real. Venti know he can't handle this alone. He decide to calls Kaeya and Jean to take care of the Creator for a while. He will go to Liyue to call for help.

Now, the 2 high rank in Favonius of Mondstadt gonna deal with the true hell.

Perhaps they were suspicious of their Creator's actions. But of course they can't say or can't ask anything. Because they don't want to be punished by her.

For real? It should be like this? God that can't control their behaviour well?

🪬

2 Weeks later after Albedo help you and you two (maybe three?) stayed together in Dragonspine.…

“ Can someone tell me what happening? ”

Thick atmosphere, two lives staring in to eachother eyes. Like they ready to start a fight. Albedo staring with calm but cold in the same time. And another one just hissing like a caracal cat.

And they're completely ignore your question.

* Smack! *

* Smack! *

“ Stop fighting like a child You two! Or else, I'm gonna throw you all in the frozen lake! ”

It work! They stopped but remain glaring. You glare at them like a sharp dagger to them and they turn around quickly to another direction.

“ Didn't know that I creat such a grumpy flower. ”

“ Shut up you idiot!! ”

“ Watch your mouth or I'm gonna close your mouth by sewing it together!”

“ … ”

After you (accidentally) created the flower, and Albedo took over to take care of it. This flower growing so fast, and you can feel a little glimp of life inside it.

Three days ago, you used your power on it one last time. Like gave it ability to talk, hear and see. And now it awake, and unfortunately for Albedo to encounter with it first and alone.

“ Flowey. ”

“ What!? ”

“ …? ”

“ Your name is Flowey, its suit you. Because your talkative and your behaviour like someone that I met before. ”

This flower just reminded you about that talkative and villainess Flowey the Flower from Undertale. You didn't mean to make it similar, but it happened and you don't mind at all.

Develop one step further, You're so proud of yourself right now. You will be stronger enough to protect yourself, and an important peoples in your life soon.

“ Your grace, do you have any food that you want to eat today? ”

“ Mhmm, not sure. Can you made it for me Albedo? ”

“ Okay, give me 20 minutes. ”

“ Thanks! ”

Sure, you can cook. But you didn't know what to cook after you isekai to Teyvat. You just leave this job to Albedo instead, and you impressive with his cooking skill.

“ We're back! ”

Someone shouting out side the shelter. Before the red haired male and sister that worked in Mondstadt's church came inside. You turn around to see them.

“ Oh? Diluc? Rosaria? Welcome back! ”

The two kneels Infront of you and bow their head a little. You ever try to told them not to, but they didn't listen and continued this behaviour to you. So, you just ignore it.

They said that they should do, because they want to recompense about what they've done before you arrived. They find the truth that they worshipped the Impostor for so long, more than a year.

“ We have the bad news to announce to you. ”

“ Say it. ”

“ The hunting will begin soon. Maybe, that impostor can sense your presence now. ”

You just nodded. Finally, the event that you hate and afraid will coming soon.......

🪬⚠️🪬⚠️🪬⚠️🪬

<< Part 1 : Part 3 >>

🪬⚠️🪬⚠️🪬⚠️🪬

#Genshin Impact #cult #sagau #sagau impostor au #Genshin Impact x Reader #Reader being villainess later #Reader will have no mercy later #Reader will being killing spree later #Reader is antagonist #purpleamethysts

[topazy]

Inside, outside

Pairing: 10k x reader

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of blood and brains

Chapter: 5.06

After bringing the quad bike to a complete stop when you spot a deserted-looking warehouse, 10k jumps off the back first, and immediately you’re missing the warmth of his arm wrapped around your waist. With the sling of his gun over his shoulder, he offers you his hand to help you climb off. If 10K wasn’t a gentleman before, people would probably be catching onto how protective he was being.

You, 10K, Warren, Murphy, and Addy had gone to find the source of bizkit’s and why they seemed to be low rations of it, while Doc and George headed back to Altura to keep an eye on Dante’s trial.

“Is that the bakery? The place looks abandoned.”

“It doesn’t mean nobody is home,” Warren points out.

The five of you stand on the edge of a small hill that leads down to the pathway into the building. The side of the hill was mainly covered in rubble, preventing any vehicles from driving on it.

Murphy looks lost in thought; a look of distress appears on his face. You lightly hit his arm to gain his attention. “Are you okay?”

“I smell brains.”

“This must be the place, then.”

When the five of you started making your way down the path, you were being extra cautious not to trip while walking on such a rocky surface. 10k stays in front of you and continues to glance back, ready to catch you if you do fall.

Murphy walks by you at a normal pace and scoffs, “You two make me feel sick.”

“Just keep walking, Alvin.”

“My biggest fear is losing you. When you were kidnapped, I realized how much I loved you and that there was nothing I wouldn't do to find you,” Murphy says mockingly. “You're my best friend, Tommy, and there's not a line I wouldn't cross to keep you safe.”

10k glares at him and warningly snaps, “Shut the hell up.”

Addy, who’s standing at the bottom, already looks up in confusion. “What is he talking about?”

“Nothing.”

In a high-pitched fake girly voice, Murphy says, “I knew our fates were intertwined.“

“I swear to god!” You knew Murphy was looking for a reaction, and usually you wouldn’t take the bait too easily, but he had been teasing you since you left for this new task.

“Don’t get wound up; he’s not worth the reaction,” 10k says calmly, but as soon as you reach the bottom where the others are waiting, he presses the long side of his rifle against Murphy’s collarbone, pushing him into the wall. “Lay the fuck off Murphy.”

“Jeez, lighten up, kid.”

10k steps back.

Warren clicks her fingers. “All of you, focus.”

Once you checked, nobody else was in sight. You round the corner, and Addy breaks the lock on the door, giving you all access to the building.

—

The inside of the building stinks of rotten meat, which is explained when you find human skulls and parts of rotten brains scattered across various baking trays.

The group had split up, but you could see both Addy and 10k going to check out the same area. It saddened you that they no longer had a close relationship, and you felt partially responsible for it, but then it was your sister who left. Since they last saw each other, Addy had lost an eye, and 10k had lost his hand, and they could have leaned on each other for support.

“Astra, I’m really sorry, but it looks like she left during the night.”

You shake your head, refusing to believe it. “No, no. Something is wrong; Addy wouldn’t just go without leaving me. She wouldn’t do that.”

When you awoke in the morning to find Addy gone, you assumed she had gone hunting, but when she never returned, a couple of hours later, you, 10k, and Red went looking for her, but you couldn’t find her. You returned to your home to see if she had returned.

Red links her fingers with yours and gives you a sympathetic look. “All her stuff is gone.”

You squeeze your eyes shut to hold back tears. Addy only found you in the first place while looking for someone else. “She’s gone to find Lucy,” you say, clearing your throat. “We should go and let Tommy know; I don’t want him out there looking for someone who doesn’t want to be found.”

You aim your gun in the direction of something being crushed and slowly make your way over to a large mixer, which appears to have turned on itself. You look inside it and almost gag at seeing more skulls.

“You guys seeing this? This place is gross.”

When you don’t get a reply, you spin around to see Warren staring at something with a concerned look on her face. She notices you looking and waves you over. When you do, you see what the problem is.

“Eh Murphy, are you good? You’re practically drooling over a skull?”

“Yeah,” he quickly shrugs your comment off. “This place just gives me the munchies.”

All of a sudden, a man appears and starts firing at the three of you. Quickly, you jump out of the way to avoid being shot and accidentally scrape your stomach on something sharp. You duck behind one of the metal tables and, taking a few deep breaths, look down to see blood appearing on your top.

No, no, no.

Murphy crawls over beside you and says, “What the hell are you doing? We gotta keep moving.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know I just—fuck.”

“Did you get shot?”

“No, I’ve just cut my stomach.” The cut wasn’t deep, and you were sure it hadn’t harmed the baby, but it gave you one hell of a fright. Between deep breaths, you start mumbling to yourself, “Tommy is going to freak.”

Seeing how afraid you are, something clicks in Murphy, and he gives you a look of understanding. He knows. Quietly, he says, “Stay behind me; we are going to make a run for it.”

You nod, and the two of you manage to run behind a different spot without being shot.

—

“I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if you try anything stupid.” You say, aiming at the man who was previously trying to kill your head.

While he chases Murphy and Warren off from either side, the man seemed to not care that much about weapons being so close to his head. “It looks like we’ve got ourselves a zombie standoff. You have me; I got him, and my brothers got all three of you.”

You glance around the room; it was more than likely that 10k or Addy had gotten to his brother first.

“We are looking for bizkits,” Warren says. “We have starving talkers that are starting to turn.”

“We are just trying to survive ourselves, and it’s crooks like you who have shut down the bakery and turned us into a bunch of dirty dogs. So lower your weapons and kindly waltz out of here, or we’re all going to be crawling brains.”

“Look, I don’t know who you think we are, but we aren’t them.”

“That’s what the last bunch said before they started shooting.”

You didn’t doubt the man’s story for a second; the bakery was covered in a red mist of blood. A door creaks open, and Addy and 10k bring out another man, whom you assume is the brother with a gun at his back.

“Listen,” you lower your weapon slightly, “your brother is still human, and I know you want to keep it that way. Just tell us what we want to know, and nobody else will get hurt.”

The man gulps down, “So, you're in need of some help?”

—

While the older man, Gilly, looks at his younger brother, Skull's nose, which was cut by your sister 10K, pulls you aside and grips a hold of the bottom of your top, “What the hell happened? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine; it’s just a cut.”

He holds your gaze. “Are you sure?”

“We’ll be fine.”

You return to your group just in time to hear Gilly explain that it was their mom who invited bizkits to save their brother, who had been bitten, but then the brother bit the mom when they ran out. And since the bombing, someone has been attacking the bakery so they won’t continue making them. Their mom had turned two weeks ago, and she was the only one who had the recipe.

You look up at the window of the office overlooking the rest of the bakery and see multiple talkers that have turned.

—

Murphy stands up a table, holds up a radio, and turns the music up to distract the talkers while Skull sneaks inside to get the recipe. The plan was going well until Skull tripped and fell and was bitten by their zombified brother right after their mom ate the recipe.

“I hate to say it, but the only way to keep them from turning might be to feed them actual brains.”

From the doorway at the far side of the room, multiple heavy footsteps can be heard, along with snarling and hissing. All the noise must have attracted the nearby Z’s from outside. Thankfully, only a small number of them came into the building.

You run up behind one of the Z’s and stab it in the head before shooting another two. You notice Addy and 10k working together to take out Z's, which makes you smile.

Warren cuts the head off one and tosses it to Gilly.

You stand behind 10k and bury your face into his back, not wanting to witness Gilly crushing the skull, then cutting up the brains, and then feeding them to the walkers.

When the talkers return to normal, the mom flirts with a creeped-out Murphy, kissing him on the cheek before continuing to help.

—

Sitting with your legs dangling over the edge of a table, you watch as the brothers bag up the last of the bizkits. Hearing a whistling noise, you look over to Murphy, who was trying and failing to be discreet by waving you and 10k over to him, then looking away.

You and 10k stand on either side of him. “What’s going on?”

“I just wanted to say...” he trails off while tracing patterns in the flour scattered across the table with his finger. Murphy's jaw clenches slightly. “I don’t like either of you, but I do think you will be great parents, even lefty over here.”

With that, he turns and quickly walks away. You share a confused look with 10k. “Did you tell him?”

“No, but I think he figured it out.”

Ultimately, you’d need to tell the others the truth sooner than later. 10k smiles and brushes strands of hair out of your face. “Go for it.”

“Uh, guys, we’ve got something we need to tell you.”

Warren and Addy step a little closer, and you try not to laugh, seeing the worried look on their faces.

“Tommy and I are having a baby.”

#z nation #10k x you #10k x reader #inside outisde #z nation 10k #z nation rewrite #10k z nation #z nation fanfic #z nation fanfiction #addy z nation #inside outside 5.06 #z nation warren #murphy z nation #10k/you #10k/reader

[crystaltoa]

If I may ask. Your headcanons what kind of food and dishes the turaga like best? (Remembered the post discussing and being silly about the turaga realizing that they and the matoran have to eat food on Mata Nui. It was probably also an adventure when they figured out how to prepare it to make it taste better / able to be eaten at all.)

Hmm...

A lot of this depends on whether you assume Matoran's nutritional needs are at all similar to humans, or quite different, or whether they consume food for energy and nothing else. I'm kind of going with the latter but assuming they still can taste their food.

I've kind of made it a bit about the villages in general since what the Matoran have access to is going to influence what the Turaga eats and vice versa, hope that's okay.

Some general notes first:

Crops and orchards do not appear to be a thing on the island of Mata Nui. Each village has a single Vuata Maca tree, and some villages also had access to Bula berries, both of which are high energy fruits. Other foraged fruit and vegetables are on the menu, but grain-based foods are likely out.

Some of the foods I mention here would typically be made with a flour in our world. but since grains aren't really a thing, you can imagine it would be made from something like ground up nuts, tubers, or maybe even something like tree bark.

That said, despite not exactly farming the land, the Matoran on the island did try to maintain the health of the "natural" environment, for example, volcanic soil from the lava farms was used to improve the health of Le-Wahi's forests.

Two real life plants with edible parts are confirmed to be found on the island: Bamboo, which has edible shoots, and the harakeke, which has nectar used for flavouring. I'm also going to include seaweed in this category.

Matoran don't seem to eat meat apart from fish. In fact, the Skakdi mostly eat meat just to intimidate people from other cultures and they don't require it from a nutritional standpoint. Kualus was also alarmed and disgusted by the existence of predatory bird Rahi, so... Matoran seem to have a different view of what is or is not food than most human cultures. If you want to give them a bit more variety, perhaps there are shellfish, molluscs, or arthropods that they might also eat.

Terms that originate in cooking (baked, boiled, friedetc) are often thrown around in other contexts, but it implies that Matoran are familiar with them as cooking practices

Ga-Koro: Fish is going to be a big part of the diet. Nokama may have developed a taste and skill for hunting them as a Toa Hordika. I doubt that food poisoning is an issue for Matoran given how energy absorbtion works for them, so fish doesn't technically need to be cooked. However, cooking them for improved flavour or texture may have developed over time, though Nokama herself still prefers sashimi. I imagine Ga-Matoran have also experimented with sauces and marinades (including the harakeke nectar), and have derived a number of spices from aquatic and waterside plants. In the absence of refrigerators, they have probably developed a number of preservation techniques (pickling, drying, etc) that are largely used for trading fish to other villages, especially during spring-summer when the fish spoils more quickly (they may not get food poisoning but nobody wants fish that smells and tastes rotten!).

Ta-Koro: I headcanon that Vakama loves spicy food, and prefers meals that most people would consider slightly overcooked. Ta-Matoran in general probably like stews, curries and soups as well, even in summer, as they love the heat and aren't bothered by having a cooking pot going all day in their hut. I think they would also have invented various types of tea, some of which may have slight medicinal properties.

Po-Koro: Pie is mentioned in MNOG in Po-Koro, so I'm going to take that as canon. These could be made with fruit, root vegetables, or even fish when they can get it. I also think Po-Matoran, and especially Onewa, like a lot of salt on their food (interpret that any way you want) Maybe they even add other ground up minerals for flavour as well in lieu of herbs and spices. I think it's fair to say Onewa's favourite pie recipe wouldn't be considered tasty or edible by human standards.

Onu-Koro: Headcanon territory here, but I'm going to make this the one exception to the no farming rule. I like to think they grow a lot of root vegetables on the surface but mostly harvest them from below the ground, meaning the plants are almost never uprooted for harvesting, and some of the tuber root systems grow absolutely enormous. Cooking below ground has the obvious problem of smoke, which could be dangerous without good ventilation, so I like to think that quite often high-power heatstones are used to fry, boil and perhaps bake their food instead. Like Ta-Koro, they like their stews and curries all year round since the underground village is less vulnerable to the summer heat. I also think of the Turaga, Whenua is one of the most adventurous in terms of figuring out what is and is not edible. Some varieties of organic beetle grubs have made it into the Onu-Matoran diet as a result, though most of his culinary experiments don't really catch on. He does not trust mushrooms, and refuses to say why.

Le-Koro: Fruit is the big one here, with a lot of foraged fruit, berries and nuts making up a large part of the diet. Being the most energetic of the island's Matoran, most Le-Matoran love sugar, and anything they can use to make food sweeter is highly sought after. Marinating fruit in nectar, honey or juice is common. They even sweeten traditionally savoury foods like fish. If sugarcane exists on the island, they would be coating absolutely everything in raw sugar. Matau, while not as adventurous as Whenua, has tried a few interesting food experiments in his time, though most meals he eats are a fruit or berry salad with some kind of sweet flavour enhancer. He will not comment on the mushrooms.

Ko-Koro: Ko-Matoran tend to eat a lot less than other Matoran as their lifestyle is all about conserving their energy for things that really matter. Many of them live off the odd Vuata Maca fruit from the village's tree and don't feel the need for anything more exciting. A lot of their other food comes from trade, and they keep the traded goods in large storehouses as Ko-Koro often becomes inaccessible to other villages for weeks at a time in the winter. Cooking is not terribly popular, but smoked fish and marinated fruit obtained from other villages are well liked by many Ko-Matoran. Traders visiting Ko-Koro often have the problem of their wares, such as fruit juices, freezing solid during the trek up the mountain. Turns out many Ko-Matoran like their food frozen, however, so vessels similar to popsicle molds are used by some traders to take advantage of this. Nuju is a little different and has been known to try things that the local bird rahi recommend and bring him. So far the seeds are his favourite, and the fish was okay, but it was a hard pass on the mice and the worms.

#bionicle #turaga metru #vakama #onewa #nokama #whenua #nuju #matau

[rhodesrider]

Cookie Dough Ice Cream

Platonic!CG!Damian P. x Platonic!CG!Rhea R x Little!Fem! Reader

Warnings: Age regression, SFW, Slight tantrum, crying

~

Y/N held on to her ear rubbing her earlobe walking down the aisles with her Caregiver Damien. It was his day to grocery shop and Rhea was handling business around town after her gym session. He was looking at the list for everyone’s items and he was confused by some. “Finn wanting all this red meat, and I thought I was a cannibal sweetie.” He smirked and looked at Y/N as she was looking at the ice cream. “Papa! Cookie!” She pouted wanting the Cookie dough ice cream. “After we get the actual food baby.” He smiled and continued getting the meat from the other side of the aisle.

She blinked very confused. Rhea let her get her ice cream now and still is able to get the food they need. “But papa mama gets it now…” she voice as she went to the handle of the fridge. “Now I would hate to start counting and letting mama know about your behavior.” Y/N looked around thinking that was someone else she’s never heard Damien’s voice like that and it terrified her. Rhea was honest more the enforcer and handled Y/N when she would be bad but Damien would be the sweet caregiver and spoiled Y/N rotten. But today isn’t much of a day for that.

Damien’s not in the mood.

“Now back to my side. And don’t let go of the cart handle.” He said sternly not even looking at Y/N. She whimpered and did so not wanting trouble keeping her head down rubbing her ear again. Damien continued to get the vegetables next looking at the mixed ones side eyeing Y/N some as she was looking around but with her hand on the cart. He felt bad not wanting to have that tone with her but he needed to get stuff done. “Papa im hungry…” she mumbled. “When we get home I’ll cook up dinner and we can eat.” He said. Rhea always got something small for Y/N to snack on because dinner would take a while. “Mama gets me some apple slices and chips…” she mumbled and Damien started to get irritated. Even thou Rhea was the stern one, she still spoiled Y/N the same just not as much. “Well sweetie mama isn’t here and I said you have to wait ok? I won’t take long.” He sighed.

Y/N started to bite her nails, Rhea would have did this and did that started to get on Damien’s nerves. He saw the next ingredients and went ahead but he wasn’t paying attention as the toy aisle came up. Y/Ns eyes lit up seeing that they stocked more monster high dolls and squishmellos. “Papa! They have the Christmas squishy and I want another doll please!” She let go of the cart and zoomed to the stuffed animals. “Baby wait we can get that after-“ Hearing those words set Y/N off. “I want it now pal please…” she begged. “I said no not now.” He took the squish away putting it back and turned around seeing Y/N gone. He groaned irritated a bit but kept his cool taking the cart and looking around for her.

He looked around in the small clothing area, knowing she can hide anywhere. Soon he heard a small theme song go off, her bluey watch. He followed the sound and moved back some clothes seeing a crying little holding a monster high doll. She backed in the clothes some, her eyes showing fear. Damien didn’t want this, her being scared of him. “Pumpkin…” he sighed. “I’m sorry papa please don’t tell mama…” she sniffled holding the toy more starting to cry. “Come out sweetie.” He sighed. She came out from the clearance clothes and gave him the doll. “So. We aren’t gonna get this now. I’m sorry sweetie but I don’t appreciate how you acted towards me just now. Not today ok?” She grew silent and sniffled.

“And…I’m gonna have to tell mama what’s been up with you.”

The drive home was silent and as they popped through the door, Y/N ran upstairs and closed her door waiting for Rhea to come home.

Rhea was listening to music humming and walking in tossing her gym bag in the laundry room and sees Damien starting dinner. “Hey D! Where’s lil one?” She asked grabbing some water but looked at him seeing his face. “She’s upstairs waiting for you.” Rhea blinked confused. “I need to tell you about how she’s been acting today.”

Y/Ns’ heart dropped as she heard her door open. She was hiding in the closet. Holding her squish tight starting to cry. “Babygirl…” Rhea called knowing she was in the closet. “Come on out here baby. Mama needs a word.” She sighed. Y/N slowly came out, her eyes bloodshot red and she was in a hoodie, Damien’s hoodie. “Come sit sugar.” She gave a warning smile and watched Y/N sit down and kept her eyes to the floor. “Now, why were we acting up in the store baby?” She gave a low voice making it comfortable for her. “I just wanted ice cream…” Y/N mumbled and sniffled more. “I heard, it’s your favorite.” Rhea placed her hand on Y/Ns. “I was hungry too..” she shook and Rhea continued listening. “I didn’t mean to run away from him…” her tears fell she hid her face right in Rheas side. Rhea held her close smiling. “I know you didn’t. But baby you gotta realized that Damien’s word is as powerful as mine.” She explained. “Remember when mama said she can take down villages when she talks?” Y/N nodded. Y/N knows that her mamas sliver tongue can take down anyone without her laying a finger. “Well bumblebee, papas word takes down Empires. Some even say fight gods.” Y/Ns eyes lit up in amazement, who knew her papa was that powerful. “So when he saids something in a low voice he needs you to listen, you know we try our best to make sure you’re ok. That you have anything you want. In return, we ask for patience.” Y/N nodded. “He was gonna get you the ice cream, the food you wanted and that doll, probably even more but you made him a bit upset.” Rhea explained and cleaned Y/Ns face. “Come on. Let’s go talk to papa.”

~

Damien fixing the rest of the food and loaded the plates. Y/N walked down stairs with Rhea. “Papa…” Y/N mumbled and Damien turned around looking at her. “Babygirl. I wanna apologize to you..” Y/N stopped and tears started to fall. “I should have been a bit more clear and not been so mean. Papa was having a bit of a bad day..” he sighed. Soon he was attacked with a hug, Y/N sobbing in his chest. “Papa I’m sorry! I’ve been bad! Please please don’t be mad at me!” Rhea smiles seeing her little family saying sorry for each of their actions. “You still hungry baby girl?” He asked fixing her hair. She nodded and received a kiss on the forehead. “Well, papa made your favorite.” He smiled. Her eyes went straight to the pot as she saw the homemade spaghetti rest easy. “Getti!!” She giggled as she went to the table. Damien fixed the last plate setting them on the table and gave her a side of cool apple slices. “And after you finish, if you have room. Mama can fix us some ice cream.” Rhea kissed Y/Ns forehead giggling. “Cookies?”

“Cookies.”

#wwe one shot #wwe imagine #wwe smackdown #wwe raw #wwe rhea ripley #wwe judgement day #damian priest #agere headcanons #age regression #sfw agere

[saveugoodmadam]

My hcs for all the newsies' careers when they grow up

Jack works as a steady cartoonist for Pulitzer and an artist for Medda's theatre, as well as a few other projects here and there. He's quite well-off and famous enough so he uses his money and status to give quite a lot of support and awareness to homeless and employed kids, eventually setting up a charity called the Santa Fe Organisation which helps to fund the dreams and futures of poor New York kids. When he retires he and Davey both go and live in Santa Fe.

Katherine lives in a small house with Davey and Jack, and continues to climb the journalistic ladder. She does a lot of publicity-raising for current issues but is also the first to report anything her old friends are currently doing. Eventually she becomes extremely prominent and famous in journalistic circles. She doesn't follow Jack and Davey to Santa Fe, instead choosing to stay in New York to pursue journalism until she can no longer do so.

Davey is a high-brow lawyer with very clear morals- he is almost always found arguing for wrongly accused innocents and against corrupt people. He helps Jack to set up the Santa Fe Organisation and retires with him in that same place, but never really gives up his lawyering even out there.

Les grows up to be a journalist and works closely often with Katherine to write articles. She works as a massive industry contact to launch him into the business in the first place and it grows from there. He often takes trips to visit Jack and his brother out west and retires to the same town.

Crutchie becomes a dancer for Medda's theatre and rises to huge prominence in Europe and the USA for pioneering wheelchair dance. He meets lots of prominent figures but is keen to shine a light on the rotten underbelly of their dealings if he sees fit to. He never loses his wit, charm and love of chaos, but this is what makes him a massive hit. He retires to Ireland, citing the reason as being it was his mother's country.

Race takes work at the docks helping to load ships for their voyages but has to retire early due to a back injury. He becomes the primary carer of the household and looks after his and Spot's twins, Brooklyn and Philip Conlon-Higgins. He often takes trips to see his friends around the city as he misses them a lot.

Spot works as Katherine's secretary, at first hiring a nanny for her and Race's daughter but eventually being able to let her go when Race becomes primary carer. She has most of high society wrapped around her little finger at every function she goes to and she absolutely revels in this information especially when getting Katherine new stories. She and Katherine retire on the same day, having made a pact to do so, and she and Race move to Rome for their retirement.

Specs and Romeo both run Specs' parents' bakery together after his parents retire, and both adopt a daughter, a newsie called Pins.

Henry finally achieves his dream of owning his own deli with help from his friends and runs it with JoJo and Mike. It sits just across the street from Specs and Romeo's bakery and the two work in a story of symbiotic way to sell both meat and bread to the people of New York.

Albert works in Jacobi's for a while but eventually goes out to sea as a sailor with Finch.

Buttons and Splint both get married and make their living as dressmakers.

Mack moves back to Scotland with Stray and Elmer and they work as shepherds.

Pips becomes the leader of the Brooklyn newsies, then leaves to work for a department store in Paris.

Tommy Boy joins up for the first world war and is sadly killed in action. Ike also joins up and survives, he ends up working in the deli with Henry, JoJo and his brother.

Mush works at the bakery for a while, then he and Ritz both join a touring circus group and end up being co-opted into a few of Crutchie's performances over the years.

Splasher becomes the leader of the Manhattan newsies (and is succeeded by Pins), then replaces Mush at the bakery.

#newsies hc #uksies #newsies #long post #jack kelly #david jacobs #les jacobs #katherine plumber #crutchie morris #spot conlon #racetrack higgins

[unholy-screeching9]

This is my first request, but I was wondering if you can make an angry reader and king dice, also I really love your writing keep up the work work!

Sure thing, honey! I'm so glad you enjoy my writing. I hope this is up to your tastes.

NSFW CONTENT WARNING! 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI.

💋

King Dice x Angry!Reader Headcanons

(Reader’s got a cock in this one, but the pronouns are gender neutral so everyone can enjoy!) 

King Dice x Angry!Reader Headcanons (GAME)

That slimy, rotten, narcissistic bastard. 

How DARE your husband have the nerve to blow you off in favor of his work? For at least two weeks? And when you finally get the chance to confront him about it, he laughs in your face and tells you the stupidest thing he’s ever said: 

“That’s just the way the dice roll sometimes, sweets. It’s not my fault you can barely keep your dick in your pants longer than a day without blowing a gasket. Perhaps I’ve been spoiling you too much, anyway~” 

And if that wasn’t enough, before you could get past your enraged shock to make up a reply he makes his way to the door, nonchalantly calling back: 

“But don’t you worry, my little pip. Next time I’m available, I’ll give you the best night you’ve had in ages. Nothing but the best, from the best, am I right?” With a deep, bellowing laugh, he steps out the door, ready to start his day on the casino floor. 

Oh hell no. 

How could he say all those things to you like that? There are so many things wrong with both of those statements, you could spend hours ripping them apart. Piece by piece. If only he had given you the chance to bite back. 

He’s really outdone himself this time. Leaving you high and dry in your chambers, for weeks on end. Letting you grow more and more pent up by the day. And when you finally break, when you admit to him that you’re tired of waiting, he laughs at you. 

He. Laughs. At. You. 

That son of a bitch! 

What was this to him, some sort of game? Are you just some piece of entertainment to him in the form of a spouse? …No, that’s not it. He’s not THAT cruel. 

This isn’t a matter of teasing you or using you, sure, but there IS a reason why King Dice has been okay with blowing you off recently. Why he’s fine with leaving you hanging by your legs like a butcher with his meat. 

You are a luxury to him. A luxury he knows damn well he won’t lose, no matter how long he makes you wait. He’s got you in a chokehold. 

Well… not anymore. 

You won’t let him toy with you like this any longer. You are NOT some toy for him to play with whenever he wants. You are NOT a second choice. You are a priority. You are someone he should be afraid to mess with. 

And you know what? You’ll just have to prove that to him. As soon as the King is finished with his damn shift, you’ll make him take back every word he said. You’ll make him your bitch tonight. 

And boy, it’ll be delicious to see your husband begging for your mercy as you fuck him senseless. To have the tides turned on him for a change. His body is yours, and you will make sure he realizes that.

So, after several glasses of red wine and a couple of cigars for good measure, you lie in wait. You head up to the balcony that rests over the main floor of the casino, and you stalk your prey from above. 

Basking in the overwhelming scents of alcohol and smoke, noises of glasses clinking and loud chatter, and the suffocating atmosphere of the pit below, you let the familiar buzz from the wine take over your brain as your eyes scan every last patron, searching for the casino manager. 

You spot him as he talks up some poor souls into joining a round of blackjack, that signature, cocky, disgusting grin plastered on his face as he effortlessly shuffles his cards. He makes it look so easy, it’s like magic.

Your eyes narrow onto him, taking in every last little detail. Each and every movement he makes. The way his lips move as he chats with his fellow players, distracting them effortlessly as he sneakily slips an ace of hearts up the sleeve of his waistcoat. His lucky card. 

Not even that will save him tonight. 

You watch the game, scoffing as Dice successfully cheats his way to the top, squandering his patrons of every last penny they have. Fools. They should know by now that the house always wins, no matter how right you play your cards. 

Sighing to yourself, you suppose you can’t blame them. They fell for the exact manipulations you had. The only difference is, they fell for his game, and they lost their money. You gambled away your heart, and Dice had won. You let him take it and play with it like cat and mouse. 

Well, that will change from now on. This relationship you and your husband have will NOT be some silly game any longer. Tonight, you will level the playing field. Establish equal grounds. And, most importantly, give him a taste of his own medicine. 

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least a little excited to see King Dice on his knees, bound not just by ropes, but by fear. Yes… You want to see fear in those lovely greens of his. Oh, how beautiful it will be, seeing Inkwell’s most powerful pit boss wrapped around your finger. 

The night slips by right under your nose. You’ve counted every last soul Dice had swindled since you had started watching: 27. 27 souls were signed away for the Devil’s eternal enjoyment. 27 people fell for Dice’s trap. 

And that was only the soul count. There had to be at least a hundred people who had lost some sort of possession to your lover’s conning. 

You will be taking your sweet sweet revenge tonight, not just for yourself, but for every lost soul. For every dollar unfairly swiped. 

And by the time you’re done with Dice, there’s no way he’ll be able to hide the marks you make on him for work the next day. Everyone will see the aftermath of your handiwork. Maybe, the people who suffered tonight will get just as much a kick out of it as you will. 

Dice leaves the cleanup to his court, who obediently follow his demands as he saunters off the floor, ready to turn in for the night. Show time. 

You leave the balcony, your footsteps echoing through the extravagant halls as you approach the large door to your chambers. You quietly slip inside, grab the spare rope and handcuffs you and Dice keep in your closet, and you wait. 

A bright light floods the room as the King trudges inside your room, lazily undoing his tie as he kicks off his shoes, leaving them at the door. Before he can take so much as a step towards your bed, your hand grabs his wrist. Tightly. So much so that it startles him, a yelp escaping his throat. 

“Shit, doll, you scared me!” he chuckles fondly, turning back to you. He pauses in his tracks, his eyes trailing down to your hand that took his wrist hostage, then the ropes and handcuffs in your other hand. He squints, his suspicious eyes locking into your dominant ones.

“What’s all this, darlin’? Don’t tell me you’re going to try and force me not to work with these–”

“If you know what’s good for you, you won’t say another WORD unless you’re spoken to. Do you understand me?” You growl at him, squeezing his wrist so hard your nails dig into his flesh, drawing a little blood. 

Dice hisses in response, gritting his teeth and glaring down at you, frustrated that you have the nerve to speak to him in such a manner. As if you forgot exactly who he is. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, just who the hell do you think you’re talking to? Because I know for damn SURE it ain’t me–” 

Before he can continue, his lips are overtaken by your own. You smirk to yourself, finally silencing that arrogant mouth of his as you roughly make out with him, shaking your handcuffs threateningly each time he makes a move towards you. He will NOT be making the decisions tonight. It’s all on you.

While you have him in your grip, you take the time to unbutton his vest and undershirt, yanking the clothing off and tossing it to the side. His belt and slacks are next, and soon enough, all his clothes are in a messy heap near the bed. 

Now having complete control over his naked form, your hands get to work. You keep your lips connected with his, relishing in every pained whine he makes when you drag your nails across his flesh, leaving various scratches all over his back. 

Just to keep him on his toes, you bite down hard on his bottom lip, ripping a surprised shout from your lover’s throat. Heh. Who’s in charge now? 

You roughly pull away, grabbing the bottom edge of his head and yanking him down to your level. Getting close to him, you grit your teeth, raise up your hand that’s holding your bondage tools, and sneer right in his face:

“I have had it with your cocky attitude lately, Dice. So you know what? I’m gonna fix that. For the rest of the night, your job is to listen and obey, got it? I don’t give a damn about what you have to say. You’ve said quite enough. You’re my bitch tonight.”

Dice stares into your eyes, getting trapped in the sheer authority in your pupils. God, he had forgotten how addicting they are to look at. He could get lost in them for ages if he had the time. 

Your pathetic attempt at dominance was… strangely intriguing. As much as he wants to punish you for trying to take charge without permission, a small part of him was nagging for him to give you a chance. To humor you. You had been waiting a long time for him to satisfy you, why not see where this goes?

“...Alright, sugar. You win. Your wish is my command.” 

“On your knees. Now.” You demand. Dice blinks for a moment, staring at you in questioning, before slowly obeying, lowering himself on one knee, and shifting his other to the floor. 

He opens his mouth to question your motives, but before words can come out, you slam his legs together, tying him up by his ankles. You bring his hands behind his back and cuff them so tightly that you both are positive the handcuffs will leave bruises behind once you’re through with him. Perfect. That’s one way you’ll mark him up. 

Now that he’s completely bound and barely able to move, Dice looks up at you, watching in interest as you start to undress yourself. As much as you were trying to intimidate him, he was more turned on than anything.

He’ll never complain of the opportunity to admire you as you strip yourself. You’re just so beautiful… he’ll never admit it, but he truly did miss seeing your naked body. It’s been too long, and he feels slightly ashamed that he had to choose work over you time and time again. 

He supposes… the least he could do is indulge in your sexual fantasies for a second. Let you have a taste of power, and get a feel for dominance. 

However, that does not mean he won’t at least tease you along the way. 

As you finally finish undressing, you lean down over his kneeling form, gripping his biceps and digging your nails back into his flesh as you leave rough hickeys and bites all over his front. And god, as much as it hurts, it’s so amusing to see you try and get a reaction out of him.

“Gee, darlin’, you’re really that down bad for me tonight, huh? And what’s with these silly restraints? Come on, uncuff me. Let me show you a good time–”

“Shut up.” You growl, cutting him off and rendering him speechless. 

Did… did you just tell him to shut up?

Dice’s mood shifts, and not in a good way. He’s no longer amused. No… He’s furious. 

“What did you say to me?” Your partner questions, his eyes glowing in outrage as he stares at you, demanding for you to try him again. 

Much to his shock, you do. 

“What, is your lack of proper ears rendering you deaf? I said SHUT UP. You have some nerve, disobeying me when you’re tied down like that, Dice. Speak again and I’ll make you regret it.” 

Dice’s fists clench from behind his back. How… How dare you?! Not only did you tell him to shut up TWICE now, but you threatened him, AND you called him ‘Dice’ when you know you’re supposed to call him ‘King’ in the bedroom. 

To hell with your puny threats. To hell with indulgence. Your attitude needs a fix, and this silly little game of yours has gone on long enough. 

“That’s KING to you, you little bastard. You’ve got a lot of audacity tonight, and you know what? I’ve entertained this for far too long. Let me out of these restraints RIGHT NOW if you know what’s good for–” 

-SMACK!- 

Dice yelps in surprise, hissing at the sudden, piercing stinging sensation spreading through his ass. You didn’t…

You didn’t just spank him, did you? 

“Did you just… did you just SPANK me?!” 

“I did, and if you don’t straighten up I’ll gladly do it again, princess. You better watch yourself before I smack you so hard you won’t be able to FEEL your ass for the next week. I mean it. I’m not your fucking toy tonight, Dice.” 

Dice… Dice can’t even form a coherent sentence. Where the hell did this side of you come from?! He hasn’t seen you act like this in ages. The nerve you have, to stand up to him and treat him this way, just because he’s had to work a few extra hours a night recently. 

…Why is this side of you so hot?! 

Dice is at a loss. How in the hell do you make the idea of being fucked until he sees stars so desirable? Is this how you feel when he exhibits power over you? Fuck, this is wild! 

Taking his lack of response to your advantage, you grip the bottom edge of his head once more, forcing him to look you right in your eyes. 

“By the time I’m done with you, you’re barely gonna be able to walk. Keep testing me, and I’ll make sure I render you BEDRIDDEN. And then, you can explain to your boss that you can’t come into work because you let your spouse destroy your dignity and your body in the bedroom. It’s your choice.” 

Your lover stares at you in nothing but awe, ass cherry red from your hand, back decorated with around 12 scratches, his collarbone blackened and bruised with 9 teeth marks and 6 hickeys. 

27 marks. One mark for every damned soul taken. 

You find it in you to smirk down at him, grinning maliciously as he has done to you countless times. It feels glorious to finally be the one to make the rules, especially after he’s been nothing but an insolent dick to you for the past few days. Revenge is so sweet, isn’t it? 

“You’re gonna be nothing but a puddle of sweat and bruises by the time I’m done with you, Dice. Maybe, you’ll learn a lesson from this experience.” 

His eyes widen as he stares at you, completely lost on what to say. There’s not much to say at that point.  

He couldn’t lie… you were scaring him a little. A lot. You hadn’t EVER been this riled up before, and the fact that he pushed you to these limits was certainly a shame on his part. He had failed to satisfy you for far too long, and god, was he afraid of these consequences. 

It’s a delicious sight to see. Your husband’s toned, ivory form trembling slightly. His mouth slightly agape. His eyes. Oh, his eyes… 

Bright green, glowing in fear. Yes. Yes! 

You’ve got him right where you want him, and he’s finally going to just sit quietly and let you do your work. 

“I-I…” 

Well, maybe he won’t shut up just yet. 

Another swift spank is delivered to Dice’s ass, cutting off his words and coaxing an agonized groan from his lips. Low, husky, and gruff. God, that was hot. You want to hear it again. And again. 

So, you continue. 

Each new mark you make, each sound coming from Dice’s throat, the look of pleasured pain and slight embarrassment on his face as he grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut, it turns you on that much more. 

The bastard is lucky he’s so beautiful when he’s on his knees for you like that, otherwise you’d have kicked him to the curb as soon as he started acting up. 

But you suppose, after a rough lesson on respect, you may be able to forgive him. It’ll depend on how much he whines for you. Begs for your mercy. Screams praises as you completely wreck his ass. 

And you waste no time. 

With a swift stomp on his back, you make him bend over and eat the marble flooring, grinning as his ass bends upwards for you. Perfect. Just where you want him. 

“Ow! Darlin’, not so rough! You coulda- AAHH!~” 

Dice can’t even finish his sentence before your cock is shoved inside of his ass, stuffing him so full any thoughts he had about being shoved to the floor dissipate into mere nothingness. 

And that moan he just made.. oh god, that was beautiful. He’s such a pretty little slut for you. You want to make him moan again. You want to hear him scream and shout for you. 

You want to make him sing. 

As more dirty thoughts enter your mind, your body moves on its own, your hips ramming against Dice’s ass over and over again. Fuck, his ass fit your dick perfectly. He’s so tight around you it almost hurts. 

You don’t get the chance to fuck him like this often. In fact, you don’t even remember the last time you did. You never really had a reason to. 

Until now. 

“You know why you’re being punished by these restraints? You know why you’re not allowed to make any moves tonight? Do you?!” You demand, picking up and pace, your hands gripping Dice’s broad shoulders so tightly that your knuckles turn white.  

Dice groans loudly in pleasure as you slam your erection into him, his eyes squeezing shut as he tries to form a coherent thought. 

“Ngh! I- hah -I d-!” 

“Answer me!” 

“I DO!~” Dice wails in pleasure, throwing his head back and trying to move to your thrusts, desperate for you. Fuck, you feel heavenly inside of him like that. And he wants more of it. More. 

And perhaps, if he plays his cards right, he’ll get a full house.

If.

“Why, then? Why are you my little whore tonight, instead of the other way around?” 

“I- HAH! -I’ve been a bad boy, baby! Ohhh, SHIT!!” Dice cries out for you, screaming in pleasure as you make a particularly hard thrust into him. 

“That’s right. You’ve been a very bad boy, blowing me off for weeks and then laughing in my face the way you did. Do you know what happens to bad boys, Dice?” 

Another hard slam into his ass and your lover whines in pleasure. 

“They get restrained-! And their asses are fucked until they’re raw!~” He answers your question, moaning helplessly in pleasure. What a pathetic little shell of a man you’ve turned him into. 

People cower whenever Dice walks through the door, trembling underneath his looming shadow. They weep for the losses they suffer whenever they dare to play Dice’s game.

And now look at him. The same man who intimidates hundreds, and seduces thousands more, is a whining mess at your feet. 

It was laughable. Pitiful. Adorable. 

As his moans get louder and louder, you watch his cuffed hands clench into fists as he trembles beneath you. You see the telltale signs: your husband is about to reach his peak. 

You’re getting close too. You feel it. Your cock is tightening. God. Every last drop of your seed is about to be shot into his ass, which will certainly push him over the edge as well… But has he earned that? 

Right as you are about to hit your climax, you stop moving. You pull out of him completely, earning a sweet, lamenting whine from the overexcited man beneath you. 

“Ohhh, darlin’, that’s not fair!” he cries to you, looking back at you with pure lust in his icy eyes. The pitiful display of him looking back towards you, silently pleading for you to continue… you almost feel bad for him. Almost. 

“I don’t know if you’ve earned this, Dice. Maybe I should finish myself off, and have you watch…”

“NO! Please, doll, I BEG of you! I’ll do anything you want! I’ll be so good for you! I’ll kneel! I’ll whine, moan, sing, whatever you want! Please, shoot your spent into me!” 

You can’t help but laugh at his desperation. Loudly. A bright, loud, mocking laugh as he looks at you almost heartbrokenly. Just like you had, that very morning. You consider this moment one of the best ways of payback you’ve ever come up with. Surely, Dice won’t make that mistake again. 

“I don’t know… Will you be good for me? Truly?” 

“YES! Yes, sweetheart, I’ll be the best for you! I promise that!” 

“I can’t hear you. Speak up.” 

“I’LL BE SO GOOD FOR YOU, BABYDOLL! FOR FUCK’S SAKE, YOU’RE KILLING ME HERE!” He cries, loudly. Achingly. Longingly. Oh, you’ve got him now. You’ve got him RIGHT where you want him. 

“Hmmm… Alright, pretty boy. I’ll give you my load. On ONE condition.”

“You name it! ANYTHING!”

Your hand turns his head so you can make eye contact with him, staring right into his weary expression. 

“You never pull what you did this morning on me again. Ever.”

“Consider it done! I promise!!” 

Well… you suppose you could work with that. 

“Alright then.”

Dice screeches in euphoria as you slam your cock back inside, growling as you chase your release. Once you find it, you scream in pleasure and bite down on your lover’s shoulder, your seed exploding into his rectum. 

Holy SHIT, that feels good. For the past two weeks, Dice had left you completely full, and about to burst. It feels incredible to finally release all of that fluid pent up in you.

The sheer intensity of your orgasm is enough for Dice to finally reach his own, and he lets out a melodic scream as his fluids burst from his cock, spilling onto the floor in front of him. You smile to yourself as you watch him ride out his high, staring at the delicious mess he leaves behind. 

Your fingers gently trace the still fresh scratches you left all over your husband’s back, chuckling at each flinch he makes. You may have gone a little overboard, but you got your point across. And, you got him to admit his faults. What a fantastic night for you. 

It’ll be priceless to watch him try and get up in the morning. 

Satisfied with your work, you pull yourself out from him, grinning as a small stream of your seed makes its way down Dice’s crack, spilling all the way down to his inner thighs. You stuffed him to the top, and honestly? It’s a precious sight. He really does look handsome tied down the way he is, your fluids leaking out of him. 

But alas, he can’t stay tied up forever. 

You uncuff him and undo the knot bounding his feet together, wincing slightly at the marks the materials leave behind. Ouch… 

“Shit, Dice, I’m–”

“Don’t even think about apologizing, my love.” 

Your eyes widen as Dice shakily gets up, clutching onto you for support, grinning down at you with nothing but infatuation in those lovestruck eyes of his. 

“I’m the one who should be sorry, for how I behaved this morning. I shouldn’t have left you in the dust like that. I hope I was able to make it up to you tonight…?” 

You laugh softly at his implied question, planting a gentle kiss onto his cheek as you guide him over to the bed, making sure he didn’t stumble or fall. 

“You were great for me tonight, honey… your debt is repaid.” 

King Dice x Angry!Reader Headcanons (SHOW)

You had left. For five. Minutes. 

FIVE MINUTES. 

The ONE night King Dice has the chance to treat you to a nice dinner in your favorite restaurant, on your anniversary, what does he do?

He leaves, right in the middle of your date. Your food hadn’t even come out yet. 

You told the bastard you were going to use the restroom, and he sweetly tells you he’ll be there. You leave, for five fucking minutes, and come back to an empty table. Well, almost empty. 

There’s a note on Dice’s end of the table, hastily scribbled on a napkin. Your eyes scan the messy handwriting, your blood boiling more and more by the second. 

“Gotta run, sweetheart. Something came up at the studio. That’s showbiz for ya! I’ll see you soon. - KD” 

That fucking jackass!

He had promised to spend time with you on your special night. This was the one thing you had wanted on your anniversary, and he can’t even give you that? Not even an hour of his time? 

Your dinner is suddenly unappetizing. You barely even touch it, glaring at the empty seat across from you like it had offended your mother. Thankfully, your waiter graciously boxes it up for you. At least someone in this town has some decency. 

You catch a cab home, tossing your leftovers in the trash before shucking off your fancy outfit, kicking off your shoes, and crawling into your four-poster bed. It’s around 11 p.m. at this point, and your husband isn’t even home yet. You can’t tell if you should be relieved or even more angry at his absence. What a damn coward, not even being there to hear you out. 

The bed is cold. Uninviting. Lonely. You spend your anniversary alone, your lover nowhere in sight. Cold, Dice. Really fucking cold. 

What, are you just his trophy? His prize? A toy he plays with whenever he has the time and energy for it? Is that what you are to him?! 

You sleep fitfully that night, tossing and turning, the duvet tangling you up and trapping you in their embrace. Better to be embraced by the sheets than nothing, at least. But, still… 

If only your husband could have kept his promise to you. If only your husband wasn’t such an unreliable, crude prick to you on the one night you both are supposed to spend celebrating your love for each other. 

You feel anything but loved. 

Dice returns late that night to a practically destroyed bed, and a heartbroken, sleeping spouse. Unfortunately, he’s too exhausted to think of anything but getting some shut-eye himself, so he simply collapses beside you, passing out. 

God, what a horrible anniversary. 

The alarm goes off at 5:30 a.m. sharp, right on schedule. But this time, instead of exchanging sleepy ‘good morning’s, you immediately sit up and stare your husband down as he drowsily fumbles his hand over the clock, trying to mess with the snooze button before giving up entirely and chucking the thing off his nightstand. Sweet, blissful silence followed after that. Until…

“Dice.” 

“Mmm… five… five more minutes…”

You slam your palm against your head in irritation, three seconds away from smacking the shit out of him. How could he think about sleep right now after he pulled what he did yesterday?! 

“Dice, wake the fuck up and explain to me why you thought it would be okay to completely ditch me last night!” 

“Mmfh… wha-? Oh, right.” Dice lets out a yawn and sits up, stretching his arms and cracking his back before looking over at you, smiling sheepishly “Sorry about that, sugar. There was something I needed to take care of down at the studio, for tonight’s big weekend bas–”

“I don’t give a damn about what it was for, Dice! God, can you even go five minutes without bringing up your show? You skipped our anniversary! You didn’t even leave anything to pay for the meal you didn’t eat! I had to catch a damn cab home, and I had to fall asleep in a cold bed! Alone! On our anniversary!!” You exclaim, growing tired of your husband’s antics. 

How could he do this to you? He had one job, and he blew it! You have every right to be as angry as you are with him, and boy, were you ready to make it known. 

But Dice? Well, he was not having it. 

“Now hold it, doll. I didn’t want to leave in the middle of our date, but I didn’t have much of a choice! I would have had to leave at some point, and I figured the quicker I got things done, the quicker I’d be back home to-”

“I was asleep by the time you got home!” You shouted, shaking your head. “It wouldn’t have made any difference in how you got back home! The least you could have done was wait until after dinner, but you didn’t!” 

“Look, darlin’, I don’t know what to tell ya. It’s just showbiz. Things happen, and I gotta take care of my responsibilities.” He smirks, cups your chin, and plants a gentle peck to your lips. “However… Maybe I’ll make it up to you tonight, after the show. That is, if you don’t fall asleep of course!” 

Dice laughs. He fucking laughs as he gets up, humming to himself as he gets ready for his day. You… you do nothing. You watch him, mouth slightly ajar as he gets dressed, slips on his shoes, and waltzes out the door. As if he didn’t just blow you off. 

God, you’re so angry you don’t even have the words. 

That egotistical BASTARD!

How dare he treat this like some minor inconvenience that he can make up with some quick fuck after his show? Do your feelings really mean that little to him?! 

…Of course they do. 

When it comes down to it, your husband is a showman, at his core. And showmen are always the ones who let their fame get to their heads. The ones whose egos blimp up to the size of a whale. The ones who have no regard for anyone else’s feelings but their own. Not even their families’. 

Well… THAT’S going to change. Tonight. 

You are DONE being treated as some second-hand object of satisfaction. You are so much more than that. You’re King Dice’s partner. His spouse. You are a person, god dammit, and it’s about time he recognized that. 

So, you get up a little earlier than you usually do, a plan striking your mind. He wants to play this game with you? Oh, you’ll play. You’ll happily play his game. Except you aren’t one of his mindless fools for contestants. He’s yours. 

Dice sighs softly in relief as he strolls back to his dressing room, happy to have some time to relax a bit before the show starts. His rehearsal didn’t take nearly as long as his team thought it would. In fact, they only needed one run-through before deeming the host ready for performance. 

Not that he’s surprised, After all, he’s not Number One for nothing. 

What he is surprised about, however, is who’s waiting for him in his room. 

The lights flicker on, and Dice jumps in shock at your waiting form, seated comfortably on the couch he keeps for you. 

“Oh! Came a little early today, hm?” Dice grins as he shuts the door behind him, making his way over to you and resting his hands on your–

A loud, warning -CRACK!- interrupts his movements. Dice’s eyes trail over to yours, locking with your fiery, raging pupils. He can only stare for a couple moments before he forces himself to break from your gaze, his stare traveling down to what you’re holding in your hands. 

…Oh, lord. 

You brought THAT with you? 

You smirk to yourself, glaring right up at him as your thumbs nonchalantly mess with the ends of the flogger you brought with you, the leather strings curling obediently around your fingers. 

“Hello, Dice.” You start casually, standing up and tracing your fingers along the side of his clothed bicep. “How was your rehearsal?” 

“O-oh, it was fine, dear. It went by quicker than normal.” 

“Oh, good! So that means you have time to play with me.” 

Dice stares at you in slight shock, eyes flickering back and forth from your gaze to the whip in your hand… just what are you planning? 

“Play with you…?” He questions, hesitantly taking a step back. Why are you looking at him like that?

“Yes, Dice. I want you to play with me before your show. You know, to ‘make up’ for your dick move last night.” You sneer, stepping towards him, making another -CRACK!- with the flogger. 

“Look, darlin’, I know you’re still upset, but I don’t think having sex before the show is very—”

“Shut your mouth” 

…What did you say? 

Dice’s shock immediately evaporates, leaving nothing but outrage behind. Did you just tell him of all people to be quiet? 

“…Care to repeat that for me?” 

“I told you to SHUT YOUR MOUTH, you prick. I know you have trouble hearing sometimes, with your head so far up your own ass.”

For emphasis, and much to Dice’s enragement, you bring your hand swiftly over his ass and give it a hard -SPANK!-

…What the fuck?!

What the hell has gotten into you? He understands you’re upset, but there is no way that warrants you the right to talk to him like that. Not when he is the one in charge. 

“Why, you INSOLENT little–” 

Before he can berate you for DARING to spank him the way you did, your lips overtake his own, and you wrestle with his tongue for dominance as you yank off each and every layer of clothing he has. In retaliation, Dice tries to push you away so he can continue his rant, but a warning crack of your flogger puts a pause to his movements immediately. 

Fuck, you’re so intimidating when you break out the flogger. The last time you used that, Dice’s back was so sore he had trouble moving for days. 

He truly was in for it now, wasn’t he? 

You yank your mouth away from your husband’s, gripping his shoulder and forcing him down to your level, your piercing stare stabbing him to his core. 

“Now you listen to me, you egotistical son of a bitch. We’re gonna play our own little game before your show tonight. Treat it as an extra warm-up beforehand, except we’re playing by my rules this time. Understand me?”

Dice is at a loss for words, mouth agape as he stares at you with wide, offended eyes. You really know how to get to him when you’re angry like this. It’s honestly a little terrifying. 

“DO YOU?!” 

“A-alright, alright! Would you keep it down?! Someone might hear us!” Dice hisses in reply, hands resting at your sides in an attempt to calm you. 

That was the wrong move. 

You slam your flogger right onto his stomach, ripping a surprised yell from your partner as he falls to his knees from the impact. Fuck, he forgot how much that hurts! Especially right on his chest like that. It stings, horribly.

“Careful, Dice. ‘Someone might hear us.’” You reply mockingly, stepping around his kneeling form and delivering another blow to his back, relishing in the sweet, sensual whines that emit from your lover’s throat. 

Again, and again. You deliver hit after hit, beautifully marking up Dice’s ivory back with your tool, getting more and more turned on by each and every cry and screech he makes. He sounds so cute when he’s the one following the rules. It’s so adorable, so precious… so pitiful. 

After a few more blows to the back, you decide he’s had enough for a while. However, that doesn’t mean you’re done with him yet. Oh, no… you’ve got a long way to go. 

You better make sure he stays put, then. 

To Dice’s very vocal dismay, you reach into your bag and pull out a long string of rope, forcing him into a kneeling position with his legs spread, and tying him up by his hands and ankles. Of course he feels like he has to get his opinion on how tight you tie his restraints, because Dice’s feelings are so much more important than your own. 

“Shit, doll, easy on the ropes! That hurts! OUCH! For god’s sakes, not so tight, you–” 

“QUIET.” You growl in warning, making a threatening motion towards your whip. “You better quit your yapping, or so help me god I’ll WRECK you so hard you won’t be able to perform on your show for the next WEEK!” You bellow into his face, your nails digging into each of his shoulders, prompting a hiss of pain from him. 

“Okay, okay! Could you please just loosen them a little if you insist on tying me up like this?” 

You pretend to think for a moment, placing a finger on your chin and tapping three times. 

“Hmm… no.”

“Oh, come on! You’re gonna leave even more marks all over–” 

“NO.” 

Seeing no way out of this, Dice rolls his eyes and finally closes his arrogant mouth. It’s about damn time. You’re starting to get impatient with him. 

Luckily for you, it’s about time you start teaching Dice a lesson on respecting your time. And your feelings. 

Forcing him to bend down slightly, you step in front of him and begin stripping down, tossing your top off to the side and kicking off your bottoms. Your underwear comes off soon after, your cock springing to life. 

Dice can’t help but stare at your size, gawking slightly as he feels his own erection start forming. Okay, okay, he’ll admit it to himself… you’re so fucking hot when you’re in charge, It’s exhilarating, not knowing what your next move will be. You keep him on his toes, waiting in anticipation for your call. 

You step in front of him, grabbing the top edge of his head and forcing him to look upwards, positioning your tip right up against his mouth, 

“Suck it.” 

The raw force in your voice is enough to spring him into action, and Dice immediately puts his mouth to work, his lips hugging the length of your dick as he starts bobbing his head up and down. Ohhh, shit… He’s so lucky that tongue of his works wonders for your cock, otherwise you probably would have already cut it off. 

As narcissistic as your husband may be… he surely does know how to satisfy you with his mouth. 

You growl quietly in pleasure, keeping your hand on his head, occasionally guiding him to take more and more of your length until he’s sucking you off balls deep. The feeling is incredible… but unfortunately for him, it’s not enough for your forgiveness. 

And certainly not enough for you to give him your load, either. 

Before he can reap the rewards of his hard work, you yank yourself out of him, finding amusement in the frustrated whine he makes. 

“Dammit, darlin’, quit teasing me already!” 

“Ah! Be careful, Dice.” You warn, grabbing the flogger and shaking it in front of his face. “We wouldn’t want that pretty chest of yours to become my canvas too, now would we?”

With a low, husky growl, Dice reluctantly shuts his mouth again, silently enjoying the remnants of your taste on his tongue. 

There. Now he’s getting it… sort of. 

You smirk down at him, leaning down and pressing a hard kiss onto him, stealing what little taste of seed he had off of his tongue. As you make out with him, you mutter soft degradations into his mouth: 

“How does it feel, to be stripped of your authority for a change? To reap the consequences of your stupid actions? It doesn’t feel very good, does it? Tell me, Dice. How does it feel to be nothing more than a pathetic little brat?” 

“Oh, shut up. We both know I am still the one in charge around here, you little harlot. Just because you’ve got the upper hand on me this time, doesn’t change a thing.” 

“Ooh, strong words, coming from the man who whines to me whenever I make a mark! I wonder how all your little fans would react, seeing you reduced to nothing more than a sweaty little bitch. If only I could record the noises you make. Do you realize how easily I’d be able to end your career? I could do it right now if I wanted. Watch yourself.”

Dammit. Dammit. You… You’re right. 

Dice grunts in defeat, letting you pull away from him, a small string of saliva connecting your mouths together. This is humiliating. He and you both know damn well that everything you say is true. Right now, you’ve got the power. You are the one who makes the calls. You are the one completely in control over him. 

It hurts. It hurts so good. 

You’re incredibly sexy when you display your dominance like this, as much as he hates to admit it. You have him wrapped around your finger… and god, it’s frustratingly alluring. 

He wants you, more than anything. 

Luckily, you’re ready to chase your release. 

With a swift kick of your leg, you force Dice to fall forward, face landing right on the ground as your hands hungrily spread his cheeks open. 

“OUCH! Dammit, doll, not so rOUGHHH!~” 

The suffocating feeling of being stuffed with your cock overtakes Dice’s vocals, choking out a loud moan from the back of his throat as you start slamming your hips into his ass, over and over. 

Oh, fuck. 

You’re going so hard. So fast, Out of nowhere. There’s no time for Dice to adjust to your size. Oh, god, it hurts. It hurts so much, Every thrust feels like it's tearing his ass apart, 

He never wants you to stop. 

Each time your dick slides in and out of his ass, it’s a whole nother world of pained pleasure. And the way your nails dig into his shoulders as you keep him steady? The way you scratch in warning every time he squirms from underneath you? It’s fucking heavenly. 

He’ll never know what heaven is like. He had damned his own soul to hell long before you both even met each other. But if he was asked to describe how heaven would feel? There’s absolutely no doubt in his mind that it would feel just like this. 

Damn his show for starting soon. Damn you for not waiting to do this until afterwards, when he would have more time to enjoy the feeling of your cock ripping him to shreds. And damn him for making you this upset, to the point where you felt you had to do this to him, to teach him a lesson. 

Yes… damn him, Damn him to hell. 

He deserves every last bit of treatment you’ve given him, and he knows it. He’s reaping each and every last consequence of your wrath, and fuck, he deserves it all. 

However…

You’re unknowingly spoiling him. You’re fucking him raw, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t savoring every last bit of it. Memorizing each way you shove your cock into his hole, hitting him in just the right spot. 

It’s euphoric. Incredible. He doesn’t deserve this type of pleasure. 

Your sudden growling interrupts Dice from his thoughts. 

“You understand why you’re being punished, you little slut?!” You shout, picking up the pace as you scratch his shoulders once more, demanding an answer.

“YES! Yes, doll, I understand!~” 

“Answer me then, Dice. Why? Why am I punishing you, huh? Why aren’t you allowed to move while I fuck you so hard you can barely function? Answer me!” 

“Because I’ve been a very naughty boy, baby!” Dice whines loudly, throwing his head back in pleasure as you pound into him with every last ounce of strength you have. 

“You have been, you pompous bastard. You know why you’ve been a bad boy?”

“I-I skipped out on our special night… I left you at that restaurant, without my wallet, and without a ride-!” 

“That’s right, you jackass! You left me high and dry, on our anniversary!” You feel angry tears prick the corners of your eyes as you ram your cock into his hole, your teeth clenching in frustration. “You made me feel like I was NOTHING! On the ONE night where I was supposed to be EVERYTHING!” 

“I’M SORRY, SWEETHEART!” Dice chokes out, tears of his own leaking from his eyes and running down his cheeks as he finally feels the weight of his mistakes landing down on him like a grand piano falling from the ceiling. “I shouldn’t have left you the way I did, especially on our anniversary… It isn’t fair to you! You deserve better, doll! And I’m sorry I couldn’t be there when you needed me!” 

Faster. Harder. Hungrier. Your emotions elevate along with your thrusts as Dice cries out his apologies to you. Fuck, you’re getting close. You’re getting so close, you feel like you’re about to explode. And the way Dice is whining his tender praises to you is NOT helping your case. 

But as much as he is apologizing, as much as he is trying to right his wrongs of the previous night and that morning, it’s just not enough. You won’t give him the satisfaction he’s looking for. You will NOT give him your load just yet.

Dice’s moans and whines get louder and higher in pitch as he gets closer and closer to reaching his own climax, but before he can reach that sweet release he’s after, you stop moving. You completely pause, only the tip of your dick stuck in his ass as Dice lets out an agonized scream of desperation. 

“OHHH, FUCK, my dear, this isn’t fair! PLEASE don’t stop like that, I’m so close to exploding I can FEEL it! PLEASE, just finish what you’ve–”

“I don’t think so, pretty boy. I don’t think you’ve earned my load and your release just yet.” You growl in intimidation, grabbing his head and twisting it to the side so you can look him right in his helpless, longing, pitiful eyes. A stark contrast to the collected, confident, and addicting irises you’re so used to seeing. 

“Apologizing is not enough. You ruined me. You think that a simple ‘I’m sorry’ is gonna make things better? DO YOU?!” 

Dice squirms and struggles against his restraints, doing everything in his power to at least break a hand free so he can cup your face. All he wants to do is hold you. To caress your skin. To kiss you so much you feel over appreciated. To make up for his foolishness. 

But, you’ve tied him too tight. It’s no use. He can’t break free. It’s yet another consequence he has to deal with. 

So, he leans into the palm of your hand, turning his head and planting several kisses against your skin as fresh tears stream down his face, ruining the makeup from his rehearsal. 

“Doll, I promise you, whenever I get the chance I’ll make it up to you. I’ll take you back to that restaurant, and any other places of your choice for the next week. And so help me, I’ll pay for all of it. And afterwards? I’ll make you feel so loved you’ll NEVER have to feel this way again. And that’s a guarantee, the show be damned. I beg of you, PLEASE let me make this up to you!”

You let him speak, your anger slightly disappearing with every word he spits out. He really does know how to sweet talk you into his arms… It’s what made you fall for him in the first place. He’s got such a way with words…

Except, it’s still not quite enough to convince you to release inside of him. 

However, a mischievous idea strikes your mind, and you pat yourself on the back for deciding to do this before his biggest night of the week. Oh, this’ll make up for his actions. 

But first, you need to play along. 

“Alright, Dicey, I’ll give you what you want…”

Without any warning, you pick up right back where you left off, this time, with the intent of chasing down your orgasm. And boy, when you find it? Your seed shoots right into Dice’s ass, stuffing him so much that his stomach distends slightly with the amount of fluid you’ve released inside of him. 

Oh, FUCK, that’s so warm… that’s it. 

Dice lets out a pleasured scream as he finally reaches what he’s been after since you’ve started this little game of yours, his cum squirting from his hardened erection and spilling in a massive puddle all over the wooden floors. That’ll surely leave a stain… but hey, that’s what carpets are for, right? 

And oh, before you let him off the hook just yet… you’ve got one more surprise up your sleeve. 

As you pull yourself out of your lover, you quickly grab something else from your bag. Before Dice can question what you’re doing, you shove the buttplug up his rectum, effectively keeping every last drop of your seed inside him. 

“Five minutes!” 

You watch in joyful satisfaction as Dice’s face somehow becomes even paler at the call, his eyes locking onto yours in horror. 

“Doll, you wouldn’t…”

“Oh, I would. Consider this your last price to pay, for messing with my heart the way you did.” 

He trembles slightly as you untie the ropes, guiding him onto his feet, and helping him quickly redress. 

You watch in amusement as Dice stumbles to the mirror and quickly removes the streaks of mascara on his cheeks with a dash of makeup remover, laughing in amazement as his cue is called right as he is in the middle of reapplying his eyeshadow. 

Oh, this’ll be perfect. 

“Good luck out there, honey!” You murmur teasingly, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, smoothing down a few wrinkles in his waistcoat, and watching in eagerness as your partner makes his way to the door on shaky, unstable legs. 

He gives you a look of complete and utter betrayal before swinging open the door and doing his best not to fall on his face as he walks towards the stage.

Oh, how SWEET revenge can taste.

#cuphead #the cuphead show #cuphead dont deal with the devil #king dice #king dice cuphead #king dice x reader #king dice headcanons #headcanons #smut

[drawing-way-outside-the-lines]

OC Deep Dive Questionnaire Tag

A set of 20 questions to get to know your OC! Thank you for the tag Bool!! I'll follow in your step and do one of my wolves! And I'll retag you so you can do your other boy ;) @bool-prop. If I get another tag, I'll do another wolf.

What uncommon/common fear do they have? Sam isn't really afraid of much, though his biggest fear is losing a loved one.

Do they have any pet peeves? People not taking the advice they clearly need.

What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom? Crystals, books and plants.

What do they notice first in a person? Sam is extremely good at reading people, he notice fairly fast if they are 'good' or 'bad' people.

On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance? Sam has a fairly high pain tolerance, it's not that he doesn't feel pain, but his calm nature makes him able not to react on everything he feels. I'd say he's a 7-8.

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure? None of the above. He's more of a 'try to solve it calmly' type of person.

Do they come from a big family/are they a family person? He has a very big family, and are definitely a family person. He weighs family above anything else.

What animal represents them best? Wolf, shocker. He's a wolf shifter, it would simply be weird for me to say a Jaguar would represent him. But Sam does have a lot in common with wolves. 'Wolves are highly organized, methodical, and reliable individuals who prefer to follow a structured approach to tasks and decision-making. Wolf values tradition, order, and stability, and strives to maintain a sense of security in their environment. Wolves are complex, highly intelligent animals who are caring, playful, and above all devoted to family.'

What is a smell that they dislike? Any rotten meat. Sam has a very fine tuned sense of smell, and rotten meat is something that tends to get stuck in his nose and make him cringe.

Have they broken any bones? No, he has been close a couple times, but he's in general quite elegant and careful.

How would a stranger likely describe them? Too calm, to the point of irritation. Are they a night owl or a morning bird? He's an equal mix of both.

What is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love? He loves herbal flavors and hate artificially sweetened food.

Do they have any hobbies? He makes his own lotions, potions, soap, candles, bath bombs, ointments and perfume oils.

Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprises? He'd be super happy and genuinely surprised. Sam loves surprises, as long as they are of the positive kind.

Do they like to wear jewelry? Yes. Sam has pierced left eyebrow, he's had that since he was a teen. Furthermore he sometimes wear an ankle bracelet, and he always wears a leather bracelet on his left wrist, Adrian gave him.

Do they have neat or messy handwriting? Very neat, just look at the answer picture of him above, yes, that's his handwriting. What are two emotions they feel the most? Calm and relaxed.

Do they have a favorite fabric? Corduroy

What kind of accent do they have? He's accent neutral. I tag: @papermint-airplane, @doka-chan, @nectar-cellar, @rollo-rolls and @armanasims, feel free to ignore if this is not for you :)

#tag thing #Sam #Samuel Cullman-Thompson #immortal #supernatural #shapeshifter #wolf shifter #bool prop