#the more recent brush with them was over territory

[waterlilydrops]

Jealous Looks Good On You

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x fem!reader

summary: Lewis can’t stand you flirting with other men anymore, even though there isn’t anything real between you two. For now.

word count: 2.1k

warning: angst, fwb to lover, 18+ only, nsfw, explicit sex content, oral sex(f received), dirty talk, slightly Dom/Sub, edging, actress!reader, mentions of film Anatomie D’une Chute

note: That’s inspired by an anon, thx! I really enjoy describing Lewis kneeling down :) As always, advices are welcome.

Tonight marked your debut at the Caesar Awards. Following your recent collaboration on Anatomie D’une Chute with Justine Triet, where you showcased exceptional chemistry, and the film clinched six awards at Cannes, your life took a dramatic turn.

Looked at your publicist, she nodded encouragingly, signaling for you to make your grand entrance.

Stepping out of the limo, your Jimmy Choo stilettos firmly planted on the ground, you exuded confidence. No longer clad in the Zara dress from the roadshow, you donned a perfectly fitted Dior dress, meticulously altered by several experts to your exact measurements. As you emerged from the luxurious car, the dress swayed gracefully, complemented by Cartier jewelry adorning your neck, items you hadn’t dared to look closely even in the most prominent billboards.

As you began walking down the carpet, fans and photographers started calling your name as soon as they recognized you. It was a surreal moment, and you felt overwhelmed with emotion. Never in a million years would you have imagined that people would know you and actually like you.

You smiled and waved at the fans, blew them a kiss to show your appreciation.

Turning to your publicist, you asked if you could go over and sign a couple of autographs, and she nodded in agreement. With her guidance, you made your way over to the fans, ready to meet them up close. You signed autographs, took selfies, and even shared hugs with a few fans.

When you were told to go for the red carpet interviews, you said bye to them and continued walking along the carpet. Standing beside the host was an young actor from a recent blockbuster film.

His mocha-colored skin glowed under the bright lights, accentuating the sharp contours of his jawline. His eyes, a mesmerizing shade of emerald green, sparkled with an enigmatic allure, like hidden depths of a lush forest.

You walked up the steps and gave them a side hug.

“Hello Y/N, how does it feel being at the Caesar Awards?” The host asked you.

“In all honesty, I’m a bit overwhelmed. I grew up watching you interview celebrities, admiring your skill and professionalism, and now I find myself in there interviewing by you — it just doesn’t feel real yet!” you answered with a light laugh.

“We are absolutely thrilled to have you here! Now you’re making me feel old!” He laughed, and you couldn’t help but join in, his easygoing demeanor helping to calm your nervousness. He continued, “Now, about the Anatomie D’une Chute, was it difficult to handle such a complex character?”

“It’s always daunting to step into uncharted territory, especially when tackling such a multifaceted character. Fortunately, having collaborators as gifted as Justine Triet, Sandra Hüller by my side made the journey infinitely more rewarding. They truly were my anchor through it all, and I owe their everything.”

As you were engrossed in conversation, your heart skipped a beat as your fingers brushed against your borrowed necklace, which suddenly slipped off. With a gasp, you watched in horror as it tumbled downward, a shimmering cascade of precious diamonds.

Acting on instinct, the young man standing beside you swiftly sprang into action, his chivalrous instincts kicking in as he intercepted the necklace just before it could kiss the ground.

You let out a breathless sigh of relief, momentarily forgetting the interview as you exclaimed, “Oh my goodness, thank you so much for catching it. Otherwise, Cartier would have my head!”

He gave a small, bashful smile, “Would it be too much if I ask to put it on you?”

“Not at all.” you smiled at him and his smile stretched across his entire face.

And so you turned around and scooped your hair up, allowing him to graze the back of his fingers ever so gently across your skin and secure your jewelry where it once was.

That evening, the video of the young celebrity putting a necklace on you went viral on social media. Everyone marveled at the sparks flying between you two, especially after the almost cheek-to-cheek selfie you took at the afterparty. Among the millions who viewed the clip, one pair of eyes lingered longer than the rest — Lewis Hamilton.

Of course, he followed you and your fan pages on his alternate account; Those videos would certainly appear on his reels. But he truly despised seeing you walking with another man on your arm. You seemed awfully comfortable around him, your hands touching him easily and your body tilted towards his.

“Looks like you were having fun.”

“It’s none of your business, Lew.”

Lewis tried to hold back his scoff. It’s none of your business. As if you were just casual acquaintances. As if you didn’t nuzzle into his chest at night, his arousal awakening to find your legs draped provocatively over his hips. As if you didn’t welcome him with a sultry smile, intertwining their fingers after passionate encounters, your thumb tracing teasing circles on the back of his hand as you share intimate secrets of your past. As if you didn’t prefer his hoodie over your own clothes, the fabric clinging to your curves like a second skin, or eagerly moan his name from the other end of a steamy video call.

But yeah. None of his business.

“Where are you?”

“Home.”

Lewis was driving a sleek silver sports car on the roads of South France. The car zoomed past the twisting roads, its engine emitting a deep roar, leaving a blurry trail of exhaust in the air. The spring breeze brushed against his face, tousling his braids, but it didn’t calm him down. He just wanted to go faster.

As you turned the doorknob and opened the door, Lewis stood before you.

Inviting him inside, his gaze immediately met yours with an intensity that didn’t go unnoticed. Oh. You recognized the familiar signs – the darkening of his eyes, the tightness of his jaw. his knuckles, tightly gripping the edge of his hoodie’s hem, displayed a tension you couldn’t ignore.

He looked god damn handsome.

“Lewis, What’s gotten into you?”

“Do you honestly think it’s none of my business?” he questioned straightly, his frustration evident in his tone.

Raising a brow, you met his gaze steadily.

“I do actually,” you replied, a hint of amusement coloring your words. “Why do you care so much anyway? It's not like we’re in an actual relationship or something.”

The truth between yours was that one day at a premier of your film held in Monte-Carlo, Lewis and you crossed paths and exchanged a few lines.

“Congratulations on your wonderful film”,“Thank you, Mr. Hamilton, I really appreciate it”, “And I must admit, You’re even more stunning in person than you are on screen.” he added with a charming smile.

And just like that, Amidst the glitz and glamour of the event, your encounter marked the beginning of something unexpected. What had started as a casual fuck swiftly evolved into a friends-with-benefits arrangement, two souls found solace in each other’s company, navigating the delicate balance between passion and discretion amidst the azure coastline.

“And what the hell was with you? Do you even know how bad it would be if the media find you were speeding driving—”

“Then let's make this real.”

Lewis interrupted you with a declaration. “I‘m done with this charade.”

His voice tinged as he stood before you, his hands clasped tightly together, “I’d be a better choice than that actors. F1 is a global sport, and I’m a seven-time World Champion.” His eyes were searching for any sign of agreement or understanding. “Plus, We understand each other better, in various ways.” He expressed his points as clearly as if he were speaking at the UN.

“8-time actually.” You corrected him, causing a groan rasped out of him.

“Lewis,” you whispered, inched closer, invaded his personal space and allowed your bodies to touch.

“What?” he grunted roughly, his body betraying him as it relaxed under your touch.

“Are you jealous?” Your hand rested on his, a playful grin dancing on your lips, your voice a seductive murmur grazing his skin.

“Yes. I’m deeply in love with you,” Lewis sighed, his gaze wandering, avoiding your intense stare.

“Hmm, is Lewis Hamilton is asking me to be his... girlfriend? and apparently he is an extremely jealous type.” You feigned innocence with a playful tilt of you head.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

He suddenly gripped your arms, pulling you close against his chest. Before you could react, he fiercely pressed his lips to yours, kissing you passionately as if he wanted to pour all of his emotions into this moment.

“Hey,” when Lewis stopped, you said gently. “Look at me, baby.” You called him by the name reserved for your most intimate moments.

Caught in the warmth of your gaze, Lewis relaxed. With a tender gesture, you leaned in, brushing a feather-light kiss upon his lips, your hands still entwined.

“I know,” you whispered softly. “I’m in love with you too.”

He could feel his heart engulfed in a whirlwind of joy and elation, every beat resonating with an overwhelming sense of happiness.

As your gazes locked, the tension between you ignited, enveloping you in a cocoon of desire.

You wrapped in Lewis’s arms as he initiated a passionate kiss. You could feel the prominence of his erection pressing against you.

As his hands found their place on your hips, you felt a sudden lift, your body effortlessly rising from the floor as he gently deposited you onto the counter.

Moving large tattooed hands up the length of your thighs, Lewis hiked your T-shirt up above your hips and tucked his fingers under the waistband of your panties. A mixture of desire and reverence floods him as he slides them down your legs.

He panted, “fuck, I need to taste you.”

He knelt before you, drawing himself nearer as he firmly grasped the underside of your thighs, his hands spread you open just wide enough that he could lean his face into your mound.

Mere seconds stretched into an eternity as the warmth of his breath caressed your delicate skin.

His tongue gently grazed the sensitive inner thighs, his warm and moist mouth enveloping the lips. And then tongue cunningly explored the slit, alternating between tight purses and sucking, causing juices to flow freely.

You couldn’t make a sound, your thoughts wholly consumed by each flick of his tongue, every firm press against you, and every pass of his hands over your thigh. He were pushing you to the edge of the cliff. Unable to resist, you lightly rubbed against his face, eager for release.

You closed eyes, feeling every tiny current coursing through your body. Just as the sparks were about to ignite, his tongue suddenly leaved.

“Can’t have you cumming yet, baby.” He looked up at you, wicked grin grown.

“Tell me, can he eat you out like this?”

You couldn’t utter a word, shaking your head eagerly. You groaned at the loss of him. You pussy felt open and empty without his tongue.

“So, he’s already tasted your little cunt?”Lewis slapped at your clit relentlessly. His gaze, a mix of jealousy and anger, consumed every inch of you with insatiable hunger, resenting the pleasure you were receiving from someone else.

You gasped sharply, a desperate “never”escaping your lips, reached down and tangled your fingers in his hair, pushing his head into you, with pleading eyes.

“My Good girl.” He lowered his head, the scruff of his beard rubbing against the skin of your sensitive thighs added to the overwhelming sensation of being held into place by his strong hands and that tongue fucking every part of your cunt so thoroughly.

He picking up his pace as he desperately sucked and slurped the folds of your pussy, lapping up your juices as if he were starved and this was the only thing that’d quell his insatiable hunger.

“Let go,” he moaned into you, “come on, baby, let me taste it.”

Your toes curled as you finally gave in to that all too familiar feeling, trembling in his grasp as he brought you to climax with his mouth, and it took every ounce of restraint to not screaming out in pleasure.

As you gradually descended from your euphoric peak, the man followed up with a series of slow, drawn-out licks, gently coaxing you back to reality. Moments later, he rose from the floor, his chin glistening with a sweet combination of drool and your own essence. He pressed one final, tender kiss to your lips.

“Bedroom, babe,” he murmurs, he voice husky with desire. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

“Lew, what’s the deal with this contact and your credit card?”

“My stylist. Maybe she could help with your red carpet look.”

“And the card?”

“Grab yourself a tough necklace that never comes off your neck.”

#lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 smut

[whatacaitastrophe]

Guilty as Sin?

Summary: After confessing his feelings for Tav, Gale fantasizes about them back in his tent, because he's an idiot who said they needed to wait a little longer to explore their mutual desires.

Rating: Explicit Words: ~1k

Tags: Pillow Humping, Masturbation, Gender neutral Tav, Tav is referred to as "You" Song Inspo: "Guilty as Sin?" - Taylor Swift Author Notes: Shout out to the Magic Man discord server for making me write this, and shout out to Taylor Swift for writing a song about masturbation.

“It’s quite thrilling— to fight off such grim creatures as this region throws at us. Especially at your side.”

Despite the raised eyebrows from Shadowheart and the snide remarks from Astarion (“Really? You’re telling them this now? Right now?”), Gale wasn’t sorry for confessing his attraction to you after the heat of battle. Now that Elminster had quieted the orb in Gale’s chest, he was no longer afraid to be candid about his attraction to you. After all, the mere thought of kissing you was, until recently, a threat to Gale’s very existence. He was touch starved, and now that he could finally do something about it? Why would he wait to finally lay the groundwork of his desires with you until you were alone. 

Besides, saying it in front of Astarion also had its perks. The vampire could no longer feign ignorance to the connection Gale shared with you. Therefore, Astarion could no longer continue flirting with you, or do anything else the two of you were doing in the dead of night while everyone else slept, without blatantly walking into Gale’s territory. 

Declaring his intentions with you (and hearing you say that you felt the same way) sent a message, loud and clear: You belonged to Gale, and Astarion needed to back the fuck off. 

The only misstep Gale made when confessing his attraction to you was insisting that it wasn’t the time or place, that the two of you needed to wait a little longer before exploring your desires. If he’s being honest with himself, that just might be the stupidest thing Gale has ever said. 

That was the thought that kept Gale up after everyone else went to sleep, tossing and turning as he silently kicked himself for not immediately inviting you to his tent. There was a reason, of course, Gale wanted the gesture to be as beautiful and grand as the object of his affections, and he couldn’t do it after a full day of flinging spells at shadow-cursed creatures. Damn his lofty ambitions for getting the best of him, even in the simplest ways. 

Gale huffed with frustration as he rolled onto his back, the thoughts of you plaguing his mind and making his cock impossibly hard. As Gale slid his hand over his chest, he could only pray that  this would be his last night indulging in a fantasy about you instead of indulging in the real thing. 

Closing his eyes, Gale started off slowly—palming himself over his pajamas, squeezing his shaft gently. He imagined it was you: You with your soft hands that he’d had the pleasure of brushing against while sitting around the campfire. It was you that slipped deft fingers beneath the hem of his trousers, stroking Gale’s cock with feather light touches. It was you who pulled Gale’s trousers down past his hips, allowing his already leaking cock to spring free from its confines. 

“I’ve been waiting for this, for so long.” You said in his mind as he slowly stroked his cock, imagining the way you’d tease him because oh— you would tease him, Gale was certain of it. After all, the two of you had already spent weeks flirting and verbally teasing each other. Why wouldn’t you want to drag it out a little longer. 

“Please,” Gale begged audibly, speaking only to the image of you in his head. “I need more.” Gale stroked himself harder as he imagined you complying with his request, leaning forward and enveloping his cock with the wet, hot heat of your mouth. Gale arched his hips into his hand, a soft moan tumbling from his lips at the thought of you swallowing his cock to the hilt until it tickled the back of your throat. 

When he couldn’t take it any longer, Gale reached for one of the many pillows he had in his tent and rolled over desperately, placing the pillow between his legs as he straddles it. A soft moan left Gale’s mouth as he braced one hand on the ground and held the pillow in place with the other. As he began grinding against the pillow, the vision in his mind shifted. 

You’re beneath him now, your body ready and waiting to take him. Gale imagines what you sound like when you moan as he slides his cock inside of you— how pretty your voice sounds when Gale is the source of your pleasure instead of someone else. How pretty Gale’s name will sound when it’s sung from your lips as he fucks you. A quiet moan passes through Gale’s lips at the thought as he ruts against the pillow, aching and desperate for you. 

“Harder.” Your voice is crystal clear in Gale’s mind, as is your body trembling beneath him as he fucks you the way you requested. With a subtle flick of his wrist, the pillow becomes warm beneath him. It’s not quite the same as having a body beneath him, but it will do. Gale’s hips snapped desperately as he chased his pleasure and pretended that it’s not a pillow beneath him, sheathing his cock as he moved, but the velvet warmth of your inner walls. 

“Gods, you look incredible,” Gale whimpered softly as he pictured his thick length sliding in and out of you. “You take me so well.” He whispered to no one as he doubled his efforts, hips rutting erratically as Gale’s climax swiftly approached. 

“I love you.” 

Those were the last words Gale imagined leaving your lips before slapping his hand over his mouth to muffle the moan that escapes him as he cums with a shout. Hot spurts of semen burst from Gale’s cock as he rode the pillow into his own personal oblivion, ruining the fabric beneath him the same way he imagined ruining you. 

It was only once his cock was spent and over-sensitive that Gale collapsed onto his bedroll, panting, sweating, and dizzy from the intensity of his climax. The visions of you fade away slowly as Gale stares at the ceiling of his tent, leaving him only as satisfied as one can be after masturbating while the object of their desire slept a dozen feet away: spent, but already aching for more. 

Tomorrow. 

Tomorrow Gale would volunteer to stay back at camp so he could save his strength, so he could save his magic, for you. 

Tomorrow, Gale would make you completely and utterly his. He needed to. 

Because if he didn’t, he was going to run out of pillows. 

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale dekarios #gale #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #gender neutral tav #gender neutral reader #bg3 smut #baldur's gate 3 smut #gale smut #gale one shot #gale fic #gale fanfic

[desertdollranch]

Kirsten's bedroom renovation

It's a sunny spring day in Minnesota Territory, and Kirsten is stuck indoors, helping with the spring cleaning. Her first task is to sweep the upstairs bedrooms--she shares one with her three siblings, and so it gets messy very quickly. But Kirsten doesn't complain--she remembers her previous home, a one-room log cabin on her aunt and uncle's farm. That was easier to clean, but it was hard sharing such a small place with six people. After a fire burned that cabin down, the Larsons bought a much larger house, the beautiful home they dreamed they'd have when they left Sweden two years ago.

As for my part in this, I created a bedroom for my Kirsten doll a few years ago, but I recently renovated it to make it look more like the illustrations in Kirsten's sixth book, Changes for Kirsten.

The walls in this illustration look like they've been finished with plaster, which was common in houses at the time. The light color would have come from local sources of limestone.

So most of the changes I made were to the walls and windows. I used printed photographs for the windows, and added the twelve-pane window frames over the images before printing. For the walls, I took down the boring white wood paneling. I imitated that plastered look using tissue paper stuck to the first layer of pale yellow paint, and then I painted another layer over the tissue paper.

The furnishings are basically the same, except for the trunk on the right side of this photo. She used to store her clothes in the top half of Felicity's clothes press, which I mentioned in my recent post about moving the clothes press into the parlor for Caroline to use. After I did that, I knew Kirsten would need a place to store her clothes, and what better piece than a smaller version of her trunk?

Most of the things in the above picture are not from Kirsten's collection. The bed was made by my grandpa when I was eight and first got my Kirsten doll. My mom made the quilt on the bed and the one on the rocking chair, the pillow and mattress on the bed, and the two darker gray cats. The foot stove next to the bed is Pleasant Company, and so are the shoes (including snow shoes) lined up next to the trunk. The rocking chair came from an antique store. I made everything else: both rugs, the cradle, the nightstand, the candle and book and stuffed cat on the nightstand, the cross stitch hanging on the wall, the shelves and everything on them, the painted round boxes at the foot of the bed, baby Britta's dress, and Kirsten's quilt square in the embroidery hoop.

This is a little wooden trunk I found at a craft store. I painted it blue and then painted on the decorative designs using stencils.

That's Kirsten's straw hat hanging on the wall, from her collection. My mom made the two sunbonnets.

I gave it a weathered look by lightly brushing on white and red paint.

The trunk can hold all of Kirsten's clothes. It has room for a few more dresses too. I have almost all of Kirsten's clothes; I'm only missing her baking outfit, skating coat, and promise dress.

I also made the gingham curtains for the windows. There's a lot of blue and white going on in here, so I wanted them to match the color themes.

Next to Britta's cradle are the round boxes I made to hold Kirsten's socks and ribbons, which are all Pleasant Company things. Her lunch box and bucket are from craft stores.

I remade her honey crate and the jars of honey. They now contain clear glue dyed with food coloring. I made her little gnomes too.

The rocking chair was an antique store find. It's perfect for her to sit with her baby sister Britta.

I also painted a little flourish on the end of her bed.

This definitely isn't all of Kirsten's collection--I have a few pieces hidden away underneath her room that won't fit here. That includes her actual big trunk that my grandpa made, her Saint Lucia wreath and tray that I made, her dishes set from her official collection, and some other small things that she doesn't need in her room.

#kirsten larson #changes for kirsten #kirsten's room #kirsten's bedroom #kirsten's cabin

[7ndipity]

When Your Relationship Gets

Revealed

Taehyung x Idol Reader

Summary: You and Tae discuss what to do when a video of you together is leaked. Can be read as a prequel to "Try Again" or on its own.

Warnings: angst, mentions of harassment and toxic fans, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! This went a little more angsty than I originally planned, but I couldn't really help it. This is really starting to turn into a full Idol!Au series, and I can't say I hate it tbh.

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

You were faintly aware of a low, persistent buzzing, slowly being pulling you away from sleep by what you gradually recognized as your phone on the bedside table.

Groggily, you rolled and unlocked the device, wincing at the bright glow of the screen, only to be met with multiple notifications and missed calls from your manager and several friends.

Confused, you tapped on one of the most recent messages, which included a video link. As soon as you opened the video, you felt your heart falter to stop before taking off again at breakneck speed.

The video was of you and Tae walking through the park earlier that night, him swinging your joined hands playfully and making you laugh before pulling you to him in a tight embrace. Your faces were hidden due to how dark it was and the fact that you both had on masks, but anyone who knew you both could recognize you easily enough if they tried.

"Tae." You nudged the sleeping form next to you, but received no response. "Tae!" You shoved him a little more forcefully.

"Ow! What? What's wrong?" He whined sleepily, turning over to face you.

"Somebody saw us." You said, handing him the phone as the video played on loop.

He stared at the screen for moment, before passing the phone back to you.

"It's not that bad, we can just ignore it if you wanna." He said, trying to soothe your nerves as he had when this had happened previously.

But that was part of the problem, this had happened, several times, and was continuing to happen with increasing frequency. But every time, the two of you had chosen to brush it off or ignore it, Tae saying it was easier that way, but you were becoming less sure.

"What if I don't want to ignore it?" You asked hesitantly.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"This is the third time this has happened this year, Tae, there's only so many times we can lie before people catch on." You explained. "I don't know, I'm just wondering if maybe it would be better to just say something. At least then, we wouldn't have to sneak around so much."

You glanced over at him, but he was staring down at the bedspread, silently. His lack of response causing a weight in your stomach to drop.

"Do-do you not want people to know we're together?" You asked in a small voice, afraid to vocalize the nagging fear that been brewing in your mind.

"No! I mean, that's not it." He scrambled to find the right words to express himself. "It's not that I don't want to tell people, I do, it's just... I'm afraid." He confessed.

"Of what?" You asked.

"You know what some people are like, how they attack and tear down Idols partners." He said, casting his gaze down again. "I don't want you to have to go through any of that."

You knew what he was referring to, you'd both seen too many friends and labelmates go through hell just for admitting they were dating someone, both online and in person. You understood his fear, but he seemed to be forgetting the scrutiny you lived under everyday already as an Idol.

"Tae, I'm already dealing with things like that, people already say things about me. It comes with the territory, unfortunately."

"You never talk about that." He said, looking up at you with big eyes.

"Because I know they only have power if I let them." You said, grasping his hand

"I don't know if I can protect you." He said quietly.

"You don't have to protect me from everything, we're supposed to take care each other, remember?"

He nodded. "So what do we do?"

"We'll figure something out, but whatever we decide, whether that's telling or not, we'll do together, alright?"

"Yeah, alright." He said, giving you a shy grin before pulling you a hug, kissing you temple.

"We'll be okay."

#taehyung imagine #taehyung scenarios #taehyung drabble #taehyung blurb #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #taehyung idol au #taehyung x idol!reader #taehyung x y/n #taehyung x reader #bts one shot #bts drabble #bts x y/n #bts x reader #bts x idol!reader #bts imagines #bts idol au #bts angst #bts fluff #bts requests #7ndipity

[greyskyflowers]

Someone used the tag bloodhound Zoro on one of my posts recently and FRIEND I'm so glad someone else thinks that way.

The guard dog/bloodhound dynamic is one of my absolute favorites when done correctly, especially with characters who are the embodiment of that type of dynamic.

Not sure if I have any leverage fans hanging around but I see this dynamic used with Elliot a lot and it's always really well done in that fandom.

Territorial

Loyal

Protective

Fearless

Alert

Adaptable

A little bloodthirsty

I could point out every instance of Zoro showcasing these characteristics and I could imagine every scenario that could happen for fic ideas.

But my favorite is the side that not everyone gets to see.

Being soft only for the people who matter

Coming back bloody from fighting and patiently waiting for affection

Only being able to relax with certain people

The love and trust needed to allow yourself to be vulnerable around someone

💚

Have some soft, guard dog Zoro brainstorm dust bunnies. Although he's 100% a guard cat if we're being honest.

Petting along his jaw and down his throat in soothing and firm touches.

It takes time but he lets them at his neck, belly, and back. When they grab around his waist they brush fingers against his side, barely feeling ribs under the muscles layered over them. Rubbing his shoulders and down along his spine when he falls asleep around them. The skin of his back so soft and smooth compared to the rest of his body. It's sensitive and breaks out in little goosebumps when they linger.

He's an oversized cat.

He goes from only light napping with his back against something to complete trust.

His head tipped back and his throat is left completely vulnerable. He curls on his side or lays on his front, back fully exposed. He sprawls on his back with arms tossed out to the side or over his head, belly left unguarded.

He doesn't wear shirts as much, skin growing warmer and warmer under all the sun until he's a full canvas of sun kissed skin. It makes his eyes pop, the green of his hair more vivid, and the color of his lips more distracting. The occasional flush that graces his cheeks is harder to spot but they're skilled at looking for it now.

He seeks out affection once he knows he'll get it and he's willing to let them give it.

Sleeping curled against someone's side, face pressed to their necks like he's tucking himself away in them. Draping across their laps like an oversized kitten, blinking up at them slowly until they take the hint and pet at him.

Sometimes when they're somewhere off ship or someone is traveling with them, he gets restlessness in a way that says he wants that affection. It's a way to relax, to uncoil all the tension in his muscles, and a way to show his care for them. He doesn't do well with words, but they all speak love differently and they know what he means.

He doesn't do that in front of anyone other than crew though and they're okay with that. The idea of Zoro being vulnerable around strangers makes them protective and the thought of anyone but crew seeing that side of him at all makes them feel possessive.

Only crew gets to see each other so innocent, vulnerable, exposed, submissive.

So they find work arounds.

Luffy sleeping curled around Zoro's back and possessive arms wrapped around the swordman's waist. Satisfying the urge for closeness and touch but still protected, all vulnerable spots hidden from anyone else's eyes.

After all, no one blinks an eye at Luffy clinging to Zoro.

Luffy presses his face into the back of Zoro's neck and top of his spine, biting marks into the skin because sometimes he's not good with words either. Zoro doesn't even flinch, still asleep and completely trusting of Luffy to do what's best.

Luffy passes it off loudly in the morning with cries of dreams filled with meat and Sanji can they have a bunch of meat for breakfast please?

Zoro doesn't hide it because he doesn't hide anything Luffy gives him and the crew all get stuck on it through the day. Staring at the skin, where the bruising has pulled blood to the surface and painted it different colors. The darker spots where teeth had been pressed.

The only mark anywhere near his back and it was given willingly. He isn't ashamed of the bruises on the top of his spine, almost flaunting them as he trains shirtless in the afternoon sun. Skin glowing with sweat and everyone within eye sight trying to discreetly stare.

It's not the last mark he gets and it becomes common for him to have marks and bruises on his skin. Bright colors and dark hues in shapes of fingers and mouths, usually resting by the hinge of his jaw, the top of his spine, or the top of his hips and lower belly, where there's just the very slightest hint of stubborn softness clinging.

💚

Am I obviously obsessed with Zoro being feral?

Showing his affection by letting people at vulnerable spots they could use to easily hurt him?

Is my soft, bottom, and/or submissive Zoro bias showing?

Yes

#one piece #zolu #zoro #luffy #nami #sanji #usopp #tony tony chopper #nico robin #franky one piece #brook one piece #straw hat pirates #mugiwarapirates #heavy hints of poly andor qp crew #let zoro bottom you cowards #soft zoro #setting sail with greyskyflowers

[scribespirare]

ummm so your bio says requests are open and u were talking about alpha miguel and omega miles could u maybe write about them?

Oh hell yes!! It's been ages since I got a request this is gonna be fun >=3

"Jesus Christ can you chill for, like, two seconds?"

Miguel's gaze snaps away from the man he'd just sent running, down to Miles. His snarl relaxes by the most minuscule of fractions, which Miles takes as a good sign. But his red eyes narrow in annoyance, which Miles knows definitely is not.

"Sorry," Miguel says with zero remorse, contrition, or believability. His voice comes out all gruff and slightly slurred through the barrier of two sets of fangs: one Alphean, one spider. "But you have got to be smarter about-"

Miles flaps an errant hand at him. "Yeah, yeah, yeah my pheromones bring all the spiders to the yard, I know, we've been over this a million times-" Miguel's eyes narrow to slits, the red barely visible now, and Miles quickly tries to backtrack "-aaaand I appreciate that! I really do! You're looking out for my best interests and all that, I just, you know, can handle myself! I mean I beat y'all once and-"

Apparently done with his shit, Miguel leaps down from his work platform, performing a perfect superhero landing that normally Miles would drag him over the coals for. But today he bites his tongue. And is very glad that he does when Miguel stands and immediately grabs Miles by the nape, hauling him in close and leaning down to kiss him.

Miles melts into the embrace with a happy if a bit confused hum. The thick fingers on his neck press lightly at the pressure points there, and Miguel's thumb slides along the curve of his throat to brush his scent gland. It's almost enough to make Miles forget about Miguel's stupid Alpha posturing from moments before.

Almost.

One of the things that most of the spider-people share that Miles does not, is their second gender. Well, those of them with a second gender anyways. Boy what a shock it had been to learn that some universes don't have them.

All of that is to say though that most spider-people are Alphas, through and through.

Not Miles though. Another sign that his is a destiny that he has chosen, not one he was given. And he's proud of that, really! It's just kind of hard to navigate spider society sometimes when few people are expecting the scent of young, recently-presented Omega to waft among them. It's...caused problems.

And then there's Miguel. Huge and brooding and so fucking territorial that Miles doesn't know if he should kill or jump the Alpha. Maybe both. They haven't been together for very long, but it's long enough that Miguel is getting increasingly incensed at the various spider-people that follow Miles around anytime he visits HQ. It's equal parts hot and annoying. Like, Miles has saved the entire multi-verse. Twice. He can handle a few knothead Alphas!

But tell that to Mr. Snarls over here, still kissing the daylights out of Miles. By the time Miguel pulls back Miles is breathless and a touch lightheaded.

"This," Miles says, panting, and holds up a finger up to motion between them, "does not let you off the hook, mister."

"Cállate, pup," Miguel responds, squeezing at Miles' nape. "If you didn't want to see me be jealous, you should have come in alone. I know you're capable of sneaking around unnoticed, why do you insist on letting half the Alphas here trail after you like lovesick puppies?"

"Maybe because I already have to lie about you being my Alpha, and I don't want to have to sneak around to see you on top of that."

Miguel softens. "You know that's-"

"I know," Miles cuts in, reaching up to touch Miguel's face. And he does. Miles is only fifteen and Miguel over twice that; they know how they look from the outside. So they've kept this under the tables. No bonding, no marking, no scenting. Not until Miles is older and more prepared for the consequences. And he gets it, really, he's as eager as Miguel is to be bonded.

But Miguel growls, suddenly pissed all over again, his teeth visibly gnashing. "No, you don't! You don't get it. Watching all these Alphas flock to you, but not being able to claim you, prove that you're mine, tell them that they need to back the fuck off? It's hell, Miles. ¿Que quieres que haga? ¿Sólo mirar?"

"No!" Miles protests, but Miguel steamrolls on.

"How would you feel if you saw me surrounded by Omegas all the time? Would you want to be told that you're overreacting-"

"Collar me!" The words are out before Miles can stop them and he cringes back, eyes shut tight as if against a physical blow. But none comes, of course. Their days of violence are mostly behind them.

When he opens his eyes, Miguel is staring down at him, brow knit in confusion.

"Collar me," Miles repeats, a little unsure. When his Alpha doesn't respond Miles licks his lips and continues, calming the longer he speaks. "We can get one of those collars for unbonded Omegas, no tag, no engraving. But it'll be yours and we'll both know it. Maybe we could personalize it or something too. And it'll keep Alphas from ogling my neck. Deal?"

Up until now Miles has refused to wear a collar; he finds them primitive and old fashioned. Why the hell should he have to hide his neck? Just to appease the egos of a bunch of Alphas? Fuck that!

But now that it's not a collar meant to protect his modesty or some shit, but a symbol of a relationship? Well. The Omega in him practically preens at the idea of getting to wear a mark of ownership from Miguel.

And if the way Miguel's pupils are dilating he likes the idea too.

"Christ, pup. No sabes lo que me haces," he rumbles, all low and throaty in that way that makes Miles shiver. "Yeah, let's get you a collar. But first-"

Miguel tugs Miles close again and, with zero hesitation, sinks his teeth into Miles' throat. Miles yelps at the sudden pain but it's gone as quick as it came, Miguel's lips and tongue kissing and sucking at the same spot until Miles' knees go weak.

When Miguel decides he's done, Miles is wet and trembling from head to toe. He reaches up to touch what he knows is going to be a massive bruise very soon, "What-?"

"So you can't take the collar off once I've got it on you," Miguel says, his smirk showing off his fangs.

It takes Miles a moment to process, then his jaw drops. "You dick! We don't even have it yet, how am I supposed to go anywhere with this!?"

Miguel just laughs and tugs him close again.

#requests #anonymous #fanfiction #mine #flowerfang

[genericpuff]

Lore Olympus Art Analysis - Getting to the Bottom of It

For ages now it's been a common point of discussion - what's the process involved in Rachel's creation of Lore Olympus?

As a community, we've all discussed and speculated Rachel's process among herself and her assistants and how it seems to result in cheaper art each week. Same face syndrome, the overuse of the multiply tool, the dull backgrounds that often enter nightmare fuel territory, the lack of color vibrancy compared to Season 1, the repetitive poses and shots, the theories that different assistants are handling different aspects of individual panels, the clear lack of buffer, the list goes on and on.

But I think we've finally gotten to the bottom of what's going on. Or at least, deeper than we've gotten before and it feels like now we're closer to fully understanding Rachel's process than ever before.

Normally, I wouldn't care this much about dissecting the steps of creating a comic. Everyone's process is different, and when you're working with a team, that can introduce a whole new layer of understanding. I've worked with my own assistants in the past, trained to work in the animation industry which relies on coordination between people, and fully understand what's required to go into making a finalized piece of work put together by multiple people. All that's to say, having assistants doesn't necessarily mean you do less work.

When it comes to LO, though, I do feel this compulsion to tear into it more because Rachel seems to completely lack this understanding, and it shows in her work.

Before I continue, I want to throw in a quick disclaimer - when we criticize Rachel's art, it's not to throw any of her assistants under the bus. All of her assistants are incredibly skilled in their own right. When I criticize Rachel's art as a whole - regardless of who helped shape it into its final form - I'm criticizing not just the art itself, but her direction. Rachel is, essentially, a director of a team, and how she manages that team reflects how her work looks in the end after it's all been put together. I will be showing pieces of art from her assistants in this essay, none of this is to promote any shame or hate towards these people. This is purely an essay speculating on Rachel's directing capability and how she manages her team and is not meant to be taken as objective fact beyond what I am capable of proving as an outsider looking in. I consider her assistants people who are just being hired to do a job, I do not condone holding them responsible for the nosedive Lore Olympus has taken in quality over the past few years. These are simply points and speculations that myself and the ULO community came to after discussing it at length.

Alright, so, where to begin?

This essay started with me having a simple conversation with @loreolympusminoredits over on Instagram. They had pointed out a couple panels from a recent free episode where you could see the texturing wasn't being applied properly. You have to look really closely, but once you spot it, you can clearly see the outline of a square where the texturing block wasn't repeated.

It's VERY obvious in this last panel of Hades, look along the back of his shirt, you can clearly see the color warping from the texture block overlaid on top of him.

Now, I have a few theories for this on its own, it really depends on what drawing program these assistants are using. Some of them use Clip Studio. Others use Procreate. There is no consistent requirement in workstations or software among the team, which is Rachel's first mistake. There's a reason why the animation and film industry requires everyone to be using Adobe products whether they like it or not - because it keeps things consistent across the board. It doesn't matter how good you are at Clip Studio or how much you like Procreate, you need to be on the same software and hardware as everyone else to ensure that you can access the same tools, brushes, and workflow as the rest of the team. No one wants to have someone working primarily in Clip Studio who can't access the same brushes or files as the people working in Adobe. As much as I personally hate working in Photoshop, if I were to get an industry job, I would be expected to work in Photoshop, no questions asked. It's part of the job.

Moving on from that, this led me to wonder which assistant was doing these panels, because it's clear that this texturing problem is mostly at the end of Episode 242 during the Persephone / Hades conversation. There's also one stand-out feature that tells us it's the same person making these panels - the bobblehead necks.

Bobblehead necks have been a very noticeable feature in the comic's art decline over the past while. They typically happen when a character - especially a female one - is being drawn from the front. They're usually also defined with noticeable jugular and collarbone lines.

So, which assistant is it drawing the bobblehead necks?

Rachel's art team switches up a lot. Sometimes she has 3, sometimes she has as many as 8. Some assistants tag in, others are consistent.

So far the most noticeably consistent assistants in terms of participation since S2.2 (i.e. post-time skip S2) are Dnaeri, HardHeadedWoman, AmyKing89, and HeyItsJaki (as credited on their episodes). They're the usual team credited at the end of episodes, with the exception of maybe one artist not being present or an extra artist tagging in.

Upon checking their Instagrams, I am becoming way more certain of who does what and how Rachel does her process.

Let's start with HeyItsJaki:

Very thick lineart, distinguished collarbones, defined fingernails/fingers. Thick shading underneath the neck. Sometimes pouty lips if the expression calls for it.

Now let's look at HardHeadedWoman:

Very Disney/Warner Bros reminiscent art, with most notably, thick necks and distinguished jawline features on guys and hourglass figures/thin wrists/thin fingers on women.

And then we have Dnaeri:

It's harder to pin down her style because she seems to just draw whatever she's feeling like, but most notably are how she draws hands and collarbones, very similarly to Jaki, but with one noticeable difference - softer and rounder lines and shapes.

The irony is that Dnaeri and HeyItsJaki both have the same name - Jaki - so them having similar tells in their styles is just something I wanted to point out. Just a funny thought.

That said, Dnaeri DID post a drawing of Persephone once in her own style/interpretation, and there are definitely things to note here.

The collarbone distinction. The anatomy of the fingers and toes. The lighter lineart. The little 'dip' along the edge of the smile.

Moving on. Let's talk about the last assistant who I feel deserves a specific mention - AmyKim89.

You see, Amy is what I'm going to call the smoking gun. All thanks to this post:

Recognize that panel? That's the flat of Dream Persephone from Episode 204.

And this is what the final panel looked like.

Now, Webtoons cropping aside (don't mind the seam running through Persephone's chest) this confirms multiple things for us.

1. AmyKim89 was not the one to shade this panel.

2. The assistants are working purely off Rachel's sketches.

3. The assistants can be in charge of their own lining, which would explain the inconsistent lineart throughout each episode.

4. There are no backgrounds present meaning someone else is in charge of the backgrounds.

5. Flats can be changed and added to after the assistant has already done their job.

To talk about #5 first, notice the pantyhose that were added that make her legs disappear into her cloak. The baby's face changing. The added flower and necklace. Her eyes changing direction.

Regarding #1, look at how the shading makes the art so much more dull. The previous version of this panel with just the flats genuinely looks so much better than the finished piece.

This was, as I'm sure you can imagine, a pretty big find. While I'm sure Amy would probably not be happy to see me using her innocent post as proof for my hyperfocused ramblings tearing apart Rachel's process, I'm glad she posted it nonetheless because it finally shows us a smidge of what the process might be like during production.

Going back to the shading really quick - Amy was not the one who shaded that panel. But I did notice that out of every little inconsistent thing in LO, the shading is some of the most consistent, and it's consistently awful. Dull muddy tones, lack of consideration of space or lighting, clearly the multiply tool being used even when it really shouldn't be, placement of shading primarily under the eyes even when it makes the face look too dim to look good.

It's always being done with the same watercolor-like brush, with the same multiplied tones, and the same 'edges' along where the shading hits the light.

We also know that Rachel eyedrops her colors.

I don't think it's farfetched to believe that her assistants likely do too to a degree. Or they're working off color palettes from previous episodes they've done before which is resulting in this color dissonance where characters change colors, sometimes in between panels.

Considering the constant muddy shading, and the fact that the assistants may not be doing it, I believe it's Rachel doing the shading in the post-production. If you need more proof, here's a reel of her shading in Hades with the exact same techniques seen in finalized panels.

Otherwise, if it's not Rachel doing the shading, it could very likely be Dnaeri, as they're one of the longest-running assistants on the team (they came on during S1).

Moving on from that, let's circle back to AmyKim89's drawing of Persephone. She specifies she did the flats and lines for that panel, working off Rachel's sketches. But one noticeable thing is that there's no background.

This lead a bunch of us in ULO to speculate that Rachel is also the one throwing in the background and throwing PNG's of the characters on top.

Proof? How about the fact that there are panels out there with crunchy characters and pristine backgrounds?

I already suspected that the character was zoomed in and the background wasn't, but Amy's post confirms more than that - that the assistants are essentially drawing PNG's which don't get backgrounds until Rachel - or another one of her assistants - adds them.

Here's another panel that I strongly suspect was done by Amy judging by the colors (but the lineart feels like it could be Jaki):

Look at how she's floating in empty space. This wasn't drawn background first and Hestia second, this was drawn with Hestia first and they slapped a background behind her.

It would also explain why we get panels of characters missing their bottom halves or their limbs - because the backgrounds ended up being larger than they were anticipating in the final shot.

There are a whole bunch of things we can speculate on here knowing what we know from past essays and what I've laid out here.

Rachel may only be involved in the beginning and end of these episodes. She does the roughs, hands the sketches out to her assistants, which they flat and line, and she puts in the shading, dialogue/speech bubbles, texturing, and last details after they're all handed in. This would also explain why there are so many typos - lack of time to edit/proofread - and why sometimes there will be characters speaking but their mouths won't be open.

Rachel hands out the sketches to her assistants individually who flat and line it and hand them back. Sometimes they're handed individual panels, other times they're handed entire pages with a few panels on them. This would explain why we can go an entire scene with a character looking one way and then looking completely different by the next.

Think back to all those previous essays. Everything we've learned so far - that Rachel's buffer is miniscule, that she's shading with the multiply tool, that she's clearly only contributing the roughs and few panels that she makes from random drawings she did on a whim and waits until she can find a chance to shoehorn it into the comic.

Rachel started off drawing this comic just on her own. When she took on assistants, there were only two - AmbitiousIcarus and Madd_Joey.

But eventually, she took on more and more. Two became three, three became five, and nowadays, she maintains a consistent art team of 4-6 people per episode, not including herself or the rotating artists who come and go every now and then.

This has been happening steadily since the Episode 50's range of S1.

The summer when Lore Olympus' licensing rights for animation were sold to the Jim Henson Company.

I'm not gonna sit here and tell you that the assistants were the downfall of LO. I think they're all amazing artists, each in their own right - but their art is clearly failing to shine through in the wake of Rachel's poor management and organization. Rather than delegating single people to single roles - lines, flats, shading, texturing, etc. - she's handing things out panel by panel as she sketches them out... and considering how poor her time management is as we've all seen, it's not hard to come to the conclusion that these assistants are all being put in positions where they have to rush out lower quality work. Rachel is haphazardly dividing up the work between more people all the while contributing less and less on her own end in pre-production, post-production, and quality checking as time goes on. The final episodes weren't immediately noticeably bad as soon as she started taking on more assistants, but it's clear Rachel's involvement in the comic and its quality control has been declining rapidly since the Jim Henson purchase.

Again, this isn't to point fingers or assume the worst of anyone, but it really is food for thought. I hope that this was, at the very least, informative for those of us who've wondered over the years what Rachel's process is like. It definitely seems messy from what we can tell on the surface and frankly, if I could be in the same room as Rachel, I'd be using all this as an example of why she needs to manage her team and her time better. But that's not my place to do so. All I can do is speculate on it and spend way too much time writing an essay about it LMAO None of what I've written here is 'proof' of anything, as I'm not in the position to be able to do such a thing - that's reserved solely for Rachel and her assistants - but it's becoming plainly obvious what the workflow looks like and why the comic looks shittier and shittier every week.

All that said, I don't feel like her assistants get nearly enough credit for the work they do for Rachel. She can't even be bothered to remember the name of the guy who edited the books for her (it's Edwin, by the way) and you never see her bring up her assistants when she talks on interviews about how hard she works or how difficult it is to make a webcomic. At this point, Rachel may as well be the Queen of England - all the pomp and reward and credit, with nothing to show for leadership or actual work ethic.

It's not your work we're seeing each week - it's the work of people who are rushing to meet your deadlines, win your awards, and do your homework.

You are the sum of the parts you utilize in your workflow. You are not here purely of your own efforts. It can barely be called 'your work' at this point. Lore Olympus has become the Ship of Theseus - barely recognizable for what it once was after being haphazardly pieced together by the efforts of others.

And that's all I'm gonna say on that.

#lore olympus critical #lo critical #antiloreolympus #anti lore olympus

[imhereformysciencefriends]

@mcyt-yuri-week Day 1: Break!

Read on AO3 here

Forest elves were known to come in many shapes and sizes. Gem was a willowy, slender, waifish, faun-looking elf, herself, with pointed ears and delicate antlers and bright red freckles that matched her hair, and thin, unicorn-like hooves and legs. It did mean that brushing her hair meant brushing her hocks, too, but it was such a natural part of life she didn’t even think about it. Despite her slim form, she wasn’t actually particularly tall, nearly every aspect of her small in one regard or another (except her hair, which was wild and curly and bright flashy red).

But she did have big aspirations! Many of her glade were content to build where they’d always built and live how they’d always lived, but Gem was curious about the border where their forest ended, where it rode up against strange lifeforms ethereal and odd. Gem was sure that as an elf, and a faunish one at that, it was a little rich for her to call something else ethereal and odd, but it was true!

At the edge of their forest, right across a broad river that served as a natural border, weird, brightly colored plants grew, moved in ways that plants shouldn’t move, and Gem swore she saw a ruin in there somewhere.

Now, she wasn’t going to try and stake a territory in the alien landscape. She was a braver elf than most but she would not be doing that, no thank you! She’d just set up her base across the river from it, still in her glade’s cozy ancestral home, shoring up the border of their territory (not that the river needed much help. In terms of forest edges that were in danger of being deforested, this one was generally considered one of the safer spans of area).

And go exploring! Sometimes.

Once she’d made a cute, cozy little cottage for herself, fussed around with her garden a bit, and gotten up some of her favorite pieces of art, she had to finally admit that she was stalling. It wasn’t that she wasn’t curious about the strange place! She was! But it also… seemed kinda dangerous, you know?

But it was time to put on her big girl tunic and see what was goin’ on over there! She cinched her leather underbust around her waist and tucked a couple thin vials of health potion into the sturdy straps, laced up her greaves and gauntlets, corralled her hair back into a loose, low ponytail, and set off! Worst comes to worst, she’d down a health potion and dart back home. Of all the elvish traits she’d inherited, being quick hooved with a keen sense of when to get the heck outta somewhere were amongst her strongest. 

But things were off to a good start! The landscape here was beautiful, oh! So much of her wanted to take clippings or seed pods back home with her, though the rational part of her brain knew she should proooobably know a little more about what she was dealing with before she did that. But oh, the pinks and the oranges, the bright vibrant yellows despite autumn still being a ways away, the strange, moving vines and roots that did not radiate any malice or intent. It was gorgeous! 

Now she felt a little silly for taking so long to come out here! Eee, she wished she was a better artist, she wanted to show everybody back home how lovely it was here! 

And the ruins! Definitely human, though Gem didn’t know of any human civilizations that had lived so close to her glade on this side of the forest. It must be a very old ruin indeed! She pranced through them, light on her hooves, giggling to herself as she went. 

The ruins were very, very old, so Gem was quite surprised when she found herself caught in a modern trap.

She yelped as tension snapped around her, a net of string clearly recently-fashioned hoisting her from the earth and leaving her dangling a solid four or five feet above ground.

“Hey!” she shouted, struggling instinctively. Oh this was silly! Now she was glad she was alone! Imagine! Her! An elf! Caught by a simple snare like this! Oh if anyone in her glade saw her like this she would never live it down! 

But a modern trap meant a modern inhabitant. Gem’s blood chilled at the realization, and she then redoubled her efforts to get out. She didn’t know what kind of creature would have the mental acumen and dexterity to make a trap and was crazy enough to live here, but she! Didn’t! Want to know!

She yanked at the strings. It was well-crafted, likely spider silk, and Gem’s palms burned where she pulled and struggled. She kicked at it with her hooves, actually managing to snap a couple pieces here and there, but the net was intelligently made and did not unravel entirely at the loss of a few supports. 

The bad angle wore at her stamina and the rising panic didn’t help at all. Especially since the plants, which had previously laid about so docile, even friendly, seemed like they were moving towards her now! 

“Stay back!” she shouted at them, for all that she knew plants could neither hear nor “think” in the way that people thought. As she might have expected, the slow waves and wiggling of vines and roots went without dissuasion. She sank her teeth into the woven string, gnawing at it with her sharper canines, but the progress she made was frankly pitiful. It seemed she’d snapped all the weakest points, and all that remained was outside her ability to escape. 

Finally, she wore herself out, and hung there, limply, trapped in the net as a fly in an actual web. It was hard to breathe as deeply as her body wanted, all folded in half like she was, one hoof and hock sticking out between the netting with one of the strings biting painfully into her skin, but she was too tired to try and wiggle it back in. She was mortified, too, red faced from exertion and embarrassment both. And one of her antlers was stuck and trying to move her head made the hornbed ache!

It was hard to tell how long she hung there. Not enough time for her to fully catch her breath, but enough that when she heard approaching footsteps, she instinctively turned to look. It pulled on her antler and she let out a small, high pitched noise, wriggling in her bindings once again.

“Oh!” came a woman’s voice, “Hyello!”

“Hi,” Gem said, half-breathless and irritable. “Let me down.” 

“Well I almost wouldn’t need to!” The woman spoke with a strange accent, one Gem really hadn’t heard before, and she hung aggravatingly juuuuust in Gem’s peripherals. “You went and broke my trap! Not very polite of you.”

“What’s not polite is leaving me hanging here in a net!” Gem shouted, struggling again. 

The woman laughed at her, the jerk, but thankfully gave a, “I know, I know, I’m just messin’ with you. Hold still, here, hup!”

Movement, the net swaying, and then there was the release of some mechanism and Gem and the woman both dropped to the ground, the one on the outside of the net landing nicely on her feet. 

“Ow,” Gem deadpanned, far less amused with this situation than her captor/savior.

“You’re an interesting looking stranger. Are you from here?”

“I’m from across the river,” Gem said, accepting the help to sit up and detangle herself from the net. “I was just exploring. Are you from here?”

“No,” she said with a bright shrug. “I am living here now though, I suppose. I’m researching the area.”

Gem grunted and started trying to unhook the webbing from her antlers. As she did, she surveyed her new… whoever this was.

By all accounts, she looked like an ordinary human woman (and what indignity, an elf caught in a human trap!). Long, pale brown hair that hung halfway down her biceps. Thick, sturdy-made green overalls and a well made cotton shirt beneath. Big, sturdy stompin’ boots. Everything the woman wore (and netted, apparently) seemed to be fashioned for durability.

…Gem had been staring at her strong arms long enough she’d made out fine little hairs on her skin. Probably should look somewhere else. 

“Thanks,” she said, less irritable now that she wasn’t strung from a tree, “for helping me down.”

“Awh, sorry for snatchin’ you up in the first place! I’m trying to catch one of the little scuttlers, the one I’ve been researching got out and it’s been awful trying to get it back again.”

“Scuttlers?”

“That’s what I’m calling them! Here, come inside, I’ll show you my research lab.”

Now, Gem was an adult woman. She was smart enough to know it wasn’t always wise to follow a stranger to a secondary location. Especially after that stranger had already caught her in one trap.

But this stranger had also let her out of the trap. And she was a pretty woman. Surely pretty women had no nefarious purposes. And besides, Gem, like, owed her or something. It’d be rude not to go.

“Sorry again about your trap,” she mentioned, glancing at the broken remains before following.

“No worries! It was getting old, anyway.”

“Mm. Hey, what’s your name? I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.”

“Oh yeah! I’m your friendly resident Pearlo! Call me Pearl,” she said cheerfully, whirling around to outstretch her hand.

Gem took it in hers, strong, callused human fingers clasping firmly around dainty elvish ones.

“Call me Gem,” she echoed.

“Hey, listen to that! Gem and Pearl, we get one more and we’ll have a whole jewelry box.”

Gem laughed, and noticed that Pearl had not released her hand in order to resume walking her inside. They were holding hands now. Pearl didn’t even seem to notice it, so it was probably natural and nothing important to her. It should’ve felt natural and unimportant to Gem, too, she’d held lots and lots of hands before and it had never meant anything particularly special.

But, well, you see, Gem was not immune to Pretty Lady. 

She followed her into one of the ruined structures, which was not so ruined on the inside, and listened as Pearl discussed her research. The “scuttler” was some sort of guard dog for one of those ancient underground cities, barking whenever passerby tread too loudly and alerting the alarm system, and eventually a huge beast. Gem listened with one cheek propped up on her fist, watching Pearl walk about her laboratory with the occasional “mhm” or “oh really?” to keep her going.

It was when Pearl said a particularly silly joke with a toss of her hair and a cock of her hip that Gem realized, “Oh, you’re trying to impress me!”

Pearl shocked still, mouth hanging open and eyes blown wide, and Gem giggled to see her blush.

“No, no,” she rushed to follow up, “keep going.” She tilted her head so her bright curls spilled over her shoulder and smiled with a flutter of her eyelashes. “It was working.”

#hermitcraft season 9 #geminitay #pearlescentmoon #gempearl #hermitcraft #mcyt yuri week #mcytyuriweek #mcytyuriweek2023 #prompt: break #sometimes you break your future gf's trap with your hooves it be that way sometimes #my writing #haro writes

[mixtape-racha]

it's a scream, baby! | hyunlix

chapter eleven: we all go a little mad sometimes

words: 1.50k // warnings: depictions of dead bodies and injuries, mentions of blood, cursing

OFFICIAL GHOSTFACE KILLCOUNT: 006

when (y/n) woke up the next morning, her back felt like it had been twisted into an ungodly position - she knew she shouldn’t have slept on the couch, she should’ve just let changbin wake her up to go to bed.

the living room had beer bottles scattered all over, and takeaway rubbish covering the table. the tv was still on, playing a shitty romcom in the morning sunlight. her head was sore - probably from the angle she slept on the couch - and her mouth was so dry she could have sworn a desert had more water.

a smile washed over her face as she got up and headed to the bathroom - flashbacks from the night before of everyone taking it as a goal to tease jisung for his ‘rule’ outburst. minho and seungmin had teasingly called out a ‘i’ll be right back’ as they headed off to bed for the night (although everyone knew they’d be doing anything other than sleeping). she truly was so happy to be surrounded by her friends right now, although she would never stop wishing chan and jeongin were still here too.

she reflected on everything that had happened lately in woodsboro as she brushed her teeth, humming to let changbin in as he knocked on the door gently.

“have you seen seung? him and min aren’t in their room, and i didn’t know if they’d gone out or not.”

she hummed again, shaking her head as she spat out her toothpaste.

“sorry, bin. i only just woke up. have you tried calling them?” she suggested, noting how his eyebrows furrowed as he nodded.

she finished up her routine in the bathroom before wrapping the buff boy in a gentle hug.

“don’t worry, they’ll be fine. lix was sleeping closest to the back door, right? why don’t we go ask him if he heard anything?”

changbin was exceptionally sensitive - that was something all of their friends knew. especially after recent events, (y/n) would do anything she could to calm his nerves and reassure him. it was a crazy, unknown territory - having to question their every move - but she was sure in her assumption that seungmin and minho were okay. no one except campus staff knew they were at changbin’s parents, so unless they were being followed no one should know where they were. and if they were being followed…. well, that meant the killer had something personal with them. but that was an unwarranted fear, so she shook it off quickly.

she softly took changbin’s hand in her own and headed down the stairs towards the bedroom closest to the back door. god, changbin’s house had so many rooms, it was a wonder no one got lost in it. once they got close to the door, (y/n) called out.

“lixie, you awake and decent? me and bin are coming in– oh.”

she came to a stop outside the door, changbin slamming into her back with no preparation for her sudden halt.

“what’s wrong?” he mumbled, looking past her towards the door and instantly spotting the problem.

the door was slightly ajar, which was weird because felix always closed doors behind him - something his mum raised him to do, or something - and the room seemed silent. too silent. changbin’s pushed open the door gently, finding the room empty. it was only when he pulled his hand away from the handle that he noticed the red trail on the door and splattered on the door.

it couldn’t be…. blood, could it?

but before either changbin or (y/n) had a chance to react properly, they were thrown by a scream coming from across the house. it sounded like… jisung? in the garage? what the fuck was going on?

(y/n) and changbin ended up meeting hyunjin as they all ran acros the house, caught completely off-guard by jisung’s yells. as they approached the garage side-door, jisung came flying out, slamming the door behind him. he took terrified - sweaty and red, eyes blow wide in shock and his breathing was uneasy. after taking a quick mental headcount he nearly cried.

“where’s felix?”

“we can’t find him,” changbin said quickly, gripping jisung’s shoulders in an urge to get him to talk. “what’s going on, why are you yelling?”

it was then that jisung’s self-control broke, his breath coming out in short, raspy gasps as he tried to calm himself.

“bin, i don’t know what to– the police or something, we– minho and seungmin–”

it was with that (y/n) finally pushed past jisung and swung open the door to the garage, although in hindsight she kind of wished she didn’t.

minho and seungmin were dead. that was what jisung was trying to say.

their bodies, brutally attacked and destroyed, were flung across changbin’s garage floor. there was a huge pool of blood that seemed to be drying, showing how long the bodies had been there, and even in death the pair seemed to be able to show their affection for each other - their hands outstretched as if trying to reach one another.

a sob escaped (y/n)’s throat, hyunjin grabbing around her waist as her legs gave way. how many of her friends had to be murdered before the killer had enough? was the entirety of woodsboro going to be slayed before this ended?

the remaining friends took themselves into the living room, needing to take a breather and recuperate before they could figure out what to do next. minho and seungmin dead, felix missing with only a blood trail left behind. who was next?

somehow, they decided that it was better not to call the police straight away - they had no proof felix was dead, too, and they didn’t want to draw suspicions to themselves. 7 friends alone overnight and all of a sudden 2 dead and 1 missing? it doesn’t look good for them at all.

they honestly didn’t know how much time had passed before hyunjin spoke again.

“should we… i dunno, go look for felix? the killer seems to like making a show of the bodies, so lix’s body being missing doesn’t make sense. maybe he escaped and he’s out there hurt?”

changbin hummed before agreeing.

“if he wanted to draw the killer away from the house, he could’ve gone out to the woods. i’ll go one way with jisung if you want to go the other way with (y/n)? does that work for you guys?”

the last question was directed towards jisung and (y/n), who agreed hastily. if there was even a slight chance that felix was out there, hurt and alone, they wanted to take it and try to find him. even if it took splitting up in the mass forest behind changbin’s family home.

hyunjin was extremely careful, walking with (y/n). he kept making sure she felt okay, always keeping her in sight and holding her hand. he would make sure she didn’t trip over branches, or get caught on any low hanging brambles. it was nice, but in all honesty (y/n) was too shaken up to care.

any slight movement had her thinking they’d either found felix, or had come face-to-face with the killer, but hyunjin reassured the girl that he’d do anything to protect her. by the time he’d convinced (y/n) to call it a night; the girl was reluctant to go back without having found felix, it was dark and nightfall was hastily closing in.

when they arrived back, they were met with changbin waiting at the door, jisung worriedly pacing by his side. they were relieved to see the pair approaching, overwhelmed with the worry that something had happened to them in the woods.

dinner was a silent affair that night, quiet bowls of ramen shared over an empty table, but none of them could bring themselves to speak. how had they gone from a loud and bustling group of nine, to an anxiety and silent set of four within a week?

the house remained quiet as they cleaned up behind themselves - hyunjin and (y/n) on dish duty as changbin and jisung cleaned up the living room and shut off most of the house - not needing it used anymore. they were all emotionally and physically exhausted, ready to go to bed, when all the lights shut off.

changbin sighed as jisung let out a yelp, the sudden blackness surrounding them had caught him off guard. the four huddled in the living room with their phone flashlights the brighests they could go, while changbin hurriedly texted his parents to see if they could fix the problem.

but all plans to not let it phase them went south as the door loudly slammed open. the four tiptoes across the home, towards the front door to see what the commotion was, only to be met with a horrifying sight.

on the threshold, stood a tall figure in all black and a ghostface mask on their head, the shine of a kitchen knife glistening in the moonlight.

taglist: join taglists here @pretty-racha @chubbyanarkiss @queen-klarissa @queenfelix @taeriffic @mits-vi @myeg1993 @lemontead @peachessandhoney @chanssmiles @changbinisabigboy @5kayzee @skz-streamer @iweirdthingsblog @sinforsuccubus @bunniie0325 @torixx80 @fawnpeaks @bangtanmix73 @savluvsmingi @boi-bi-ahaha @moondustmemories @4evrglow @marrivmel @littlepotatooooo @selxmeow @demetrisscarf @carpioassists

#mixtape-racha #mixtape-racha fic #iasb-fic #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x reader fic #hyunjin x reader smut #felix x reader #felix x reader fic #felix x reader smut #hyunlix x reader #hyunlix x reader fic #hyunlix x reader smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids x reader fic #stray kids x reader smut #stray kids fic #stray kids smut #hyunjin smut #felix smut #hyunlix smut #it's a scream baby-fic #stray kids au #stray kids horror #stray kids horror au

[the-nerdiest-insanity]

Home Is With You

Also on Ao3

Day 3 of the Dead Boy Detectives Pride Month Prompts- "I miss home"

Three days after returning from Port Townsend, a new case sent the trio out of the country again. The boys barely had a chance to start accommodating the office, and Crystal hadn’t even figured out where she would want to stay in London yet. Someone from Crystal’s past, currently residing in Ireland, needed their assistance. Apparently, old Crystal threw around information on her powers as freely as her parents’ money.

A painful hour and a half flight later, the agency had landed in Dublin. Crystal was attempting to calm the boys down the whole time, telling them it would be a quick and easy case. Edwin was making it well known that he still objected to traveling the long way even though the other two clearly saw how fascinated he was with air travel every time. Oddly, Charles was pacing both the airport and the plane like a caged animal the whole time. He brushed off both Crystal and Edwin’s advances in conversation, constantly keeping his head on a swivel. 

Crystal’s friend, Emily, picked them up from the airport while debriefing them on the current status of the case. Emily recently moved into a new apartment, and it appeared to be haunted. Objects of hers disappearing, banging in the night, things moving through the air on their own, etcetera. Crystal shot the boys a few looks, attempting to tell them, “See? Easy.” Edwin still appeared annoyed, and Charles agitated.

The drive was short, and they were swiftly at Emily’s door. As she was about to turn the handle, she turned back to Crystal, saying, “Be careful walking around in there.” Her eyes drifted passed Crystal’s shoulder to look at the boys. “All of you.”

Charles instinctively reached an arm in front of Edwin while reaching one toward the back of Crystal’s jacket. “Crystal, wait–”

Emily opened the door, and a black cat scrambled out through everyone’s legs. The agency members all jumped back while Emily sighed, “Tinks, what did we discuss about scaring new people?”

The cat squinted at their owner and meowed indignantly. 

“They’re here to stop whoever or whatever is messing with us, so play nice,” Emily replied.

Tinks glanced over the newcomers, their gaze lingering momentarily on Edwin. Charles stepped slightly in front of the other ghost. Seemly satiated, Tinks trotted back into the apartment.

“Sorry about her,” Emily said, now moving in as well, “She’s very territorial, especially with everything strange going on.”

The detectives lingered outside the door, staring in. They could see a sitting room on the left with a connected kitchen and a short hallway on the right leading likely to Emily’s bedroom or whatever other rooms she had. In the bit of the kitchen they could see, there were herbs hanging to dry with a bookshelf separating it from the living room. A couple of the books had copies on the agency’s shelves.

Charles gently grabbed Crystal’s arm and led her a couple more steps away from the door. “You didn’t tell us your friend knew about the supernatural.”

Crystal looked just as stunned and confused. “I didn’t know! She wasn’t this invested in it the last time I saw her.” She glanced around the still-empty complex hallway and stepped closer to whisper, “The last time I saw her was three years ago when I made out with her girlfriend after she told me she thought I was hot. I wasn’t exactly keeping tabs on her lifestyle choices after that.”

“Did you really lead us to a different country yet again to help someone who, this time, actively dislikes you, last you knew?” Edwin butted in, having overheard.

“I’m trying to be a better person,” Crystal defended. “In case you forgot, and part of that is trying to help people I hurt and fix our broken relationships.”

“Alright,” Charles broke the two up harshly. “Let’s just get the information we need and get out of here. I don’t like the feel of this place.”

“Are you three going to come in or just keep whispering about me at my door?” Emily asked.

Edwin and Crystal both huffed. “Let us begin our investigation,” Edwin declared before finally entering the house.

…

Three hours later, they were getting nowhere. None of the strange phenomena occurred, and physically searching the place came up empty. It was getting dark, so Crystal politely declined Emily’s spare bedroom in favor of going to the hotel she’d booked.

Crystal threw down her small bag and flopped onto the bed. “Don’t wake me until 9 or there’s a fire,” she mumbled into a pillow, knowing the boys would get the gist.

Edwin sat down on the couch, flipping through his notes to see if he might have missed any possible leads. Emily clearly can see ghosts and communicate with supernatural creatures, so why can’t she see what’s in her apartment? Unless they were using some form of cloaking, but he’d need something more specific. “Charles, do you have…” Edwin trailed off as he looked up at his partner. Charles was pacing again. His brow was furrowed as his hands were opening and clenching at his sides. “Are you alright, Charles?” Edwin asked instead.

Charles stopped and plastered on a smile. He opened his mouth before letting his face fall and rethinking his words. “I just…” He fidgeted with his jacket’s zipper. “It’s been a lot lately, yeah?” He began slowly pacing once more. “I mean, Post Townsend was a whole thing itself, then we barely get a moment’s peace at the office before being shuffled off to another country again. Plus, we got Charlie and Crystal, and we’ve still got no idea what Jenny’s doing. We went to Hell, got tortured, and lost Niko and…” He stopped pacing, grunting in frustration.

Edwin stood, trying to figure out how to help when Charles continued, “Don’t get me wrong, Crystal and everyone, they’re aces, but I just miss us, you know? It was so much easier.” Charles stopped and turned to stare Edwin down. He was breathing heavily looking on the verge of tears. “I miss home,” he whispered, his voice cracking.

Before Edwin had a chance to wonder what Charles’s parents had to do with this, he was being enveloped in a hug. Oh. That kind of home.

Carefully, Edwin reciprocated, holding tightly as Charles hiccupped sobs onto his shoulder. As the tears slowly died out, Edwin gently and firmly said, “Home will always be right here. I’m not leaving, and you certainly won’t let anything take me away.” Charles huffed out a weak laugh. “We’ll be back at the agency very soon, and I will talk to both Crystal and the Night Nurse about not taking any long-distance cases for a year.”

Charles sniffled and pulled away just enough to look at Edwin as he said, “You don’t have to do that, mate. It’s fine.”

Edwin squeezed his shoulder, refusing to let go until the other did. “No, it’s not. I don’t like these types of cases either, and we shouldn’t have to push ourselves. We didn’t for thirty years and shouldn’t change now for others.”

Charles’s eyes fluttered over Edwin’s face, making him want to look away. Softly, Charles brought their heads together. “Never change, Edwin Payne,” he whispered.

“Nor you, Charles Rowland.:

#dbd pride month prompts 24 #dead boy detectives #dead boy detective agency #ao3 #dbda #fanfiction #edwin payne #charles rowland #edwin x charles #payneland

[poledancingdinos]

Hostile Territory - Chapter 18

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC (Leah Coleman)

Word count: 3.1K

Warnings: grief, past loss

Catch up: Series Masterlist

Taglist: @amberangel112 @utterlyhopeful-fics @marantha @kebabgirl67 @littleone65 @omgkatinka @luclittlepond @persephonepraxidikechthonios @enchantedbytomandhenry @narnianaos   @geralts-yenn @peaches1958 @avengersfan25 @sillyrabbit81 @summersong69 @identity2212 @liecastillo @lena-banena @mrsevans90 @confessionbrain-writings @eclecticfashionbookszipper @happydistraction @hannah9921 @valacircareads @toooldforobsessions

Masterlist

Day 202

Leah’s first stop after getting off the plane was her childhood home. Her second stop was the cemetery.

She walked along the path she had come to know by heart. The land was not very big and was surrounded by a line of trees to shield it from the nearby road. She came to a stop in front of the fourth headstone of the thirteenth row on the left.

“Hey Dad.” Leah set her bag down on the grass, kneeling beside it. “I’m sorry it’s been so long since my last visit. I’ve been moving around for the better part of the last three years and I haven’t had many opportunities to come home.”

Leah pulled a packet of wipes out of her backpack and began cleaning her father’s headstone. The lawn around it was well maintained by Caleb but the recent weather had left splatterings of mud on the smooth surface. Once she finished her task, she sat down facing the inscription, lifting her knees to her chest.

Gage ColemanDearly Loved,Sadly Missed,Forever In Our Hearts

She and Caleb had agonized over what to write. The man at the funeral home had shown them a bunch of examples for “loving father” and “taken too soon” but none of them had felt right.

A dozen men whose lives he had saved overseas had shown up to his funeral. There were two dozen more from the VA, the dog shelter, his work and Caleb’s year in school.

Leah and Caleb may have been his only living relatives, but they hadn’t been his only family.

“I’ve been so lost since you’ve been gone, Dad. It’s been so hard finding my place.” Leah buried her face in her hands, choking on a sob. “All I ever wanted when I was younger was to be like you. It hurt so much knowing you never wanted this life for me.”

Leah took a moment to brush her tears away with the sleeve of her hoodie, fixing her gaze on her father’s name.

“But I think I get it now—why you didn’t want me to follow in your footsteps. It’s not easy. Actually, it’s been really fucking hard, but I just know that this is what I’m supposed to be. I hope you’re not too mad.”

Leah didn’t want to spend her entire visit with her father in a blubbering mess so she blew her nose on a tissue from her bag and took a few calming breaths.

“I, uh… I met this guy. He’s more than just some guy, really, he’s my captain. I know, I know, it’s a recipe for disaster. I think if you met him he’d change your mind though.” Smiling to herself, Leah remembered how Sy had said he and her father would probably get along. She was sure her father would agree.

“I mean, Aika—she’s a german shepherd we rescued—Aika loves him and you always said dogs were the best at judging character. I think I might be in love with him and I… I’m so scared, Dad. I’m scared of what might happen if I do this but I’m also scared that if I don’t take this chance, I’ll regret it forever.”

After a few terrible attempts at dating after high school, Leah had somewhat given up on the idea of finding someone to share her life with. She was so independent and bullheaded that she didn’t think she would ever manage to make a relationship work. Then there was the whole fear that a guy would never be satisfied with her and would always inevitably cheat on her as had happened before.

“Were you happy, Dad? After mom left and you were all alone with us, were you happy? Maybe I was just a clueless kid and you were this big ladiesʼ man but based on the lack of female presence at your funeral, I don’t think that was the case. Sometimes I wonder if you were lonely without a girlfriend. I hope you didn’t feel like that was a sacrifice you had to make for us but if it was then… Thank you. Thank you for always putting us first. Thank you for being such an amazing dad.”

An alarm on Leah’s phone informed her that it was time to head back to the house. Caleb was going to be home for dinner and she wanted to have food ready and waiting on the table so that they didn’t have to worry about anything but catching up and enjoying their time together.

Leah stood, packing up her trash and getting the dirt and grass on her jeans.

“I love you, Dad.”

Sy’s welcome dinner with his family was as uneventful as ever. He hadn’t expected some big shindig but he had pictured a tad more enthusiasm. Never had he felt so much like a stranger in his own home as he did at that moment.

His nieces and nephews were barely old enough to remember him since the last time he’d visited. It was also a school night so his sisters had taken the kids home right after dessert. His brothers had stayed a while longer but once the youngsters had fallen asleep, they and their wives had also gone home to put them down in their own beds.

After helping them carry the kids to the car, Sy spent another few minutes talking to the twins before retreating to the porch. His brothers had only been twelve when he left and now they were both fathers. He’d spent more than half their lives away from them.

The screen door slamming alerted Sy to his mother’s presence, drawing him out of his thoughts. She dropped down by his side on the porch swing, not saying a word for a long time.

“I’m so sorry, honey.”

Sy was taken aback, turning to face his mother.

“For what?”

Sy racked his brain, looking for a reason as to why his mother would want to apologize but he came up blank. When she looked up, her eyes were red and brimmed with tears. A million different thoughts slammed into him, filling him with dread but none of them had prepared him for what she eventually said.

“For not helpin’ ya more when you were young.”

He knew instantly what she was referring to but he’d never expected her to mention his childhood, much less apologize for any of it. In fact, he didn’t think his mother had anything to apologize for but by the looks of things, the guilt had been eating away at her for quite some time.

“Mama, ya had two other boys who needed ya more than I did.”

She shook her head, wrapping her shawl tighter around her shoulders.

“No,” she said adamantly. “Ya needed me just as much as they did but I didn’t see it because ya always acted so strong. I wasn’t the mother ya needed me to be. I wasn’t there for you.” The sobs she’d been trying to suppress finally broke free, prompting her to lift a hand to her mouth. Sy watched, feeling utterly powerless as the women who’d raised him fell to pieces right in front of his eyes. “I didn’t see it and maybe if I had and I’d been a better mother then then ya would never have enlisted. You would be safe here with your family instead of out there, riskin’ your life and worryin’ me sick every second of every day.”

Hearing those words, Sy pulled his mother into his arms, her tears soaking his shirt as he held her. He hated hearing that she blamed herself for his shortcomings. Knowing that his parents had their reservations about his career and hearing that his choices actively caused them pain were two very different things.

“None of this is your fault, Mama. Ya can’t know that things woulda been any different.”

“Yes, I can.” She pulled away enough to hold his face with both hands. “You are so smart, baby. Ya coulda done anythin’ ya wanted, ya just needed a little more help in school than the others. Maybe if we’d caught on while you were still young we coulda found a way to make things work and ya wouldn’t have fallen so far behind.”

Sy closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against his mother’s.

“Mama, I never regretted joinin’ up. I love you and I know me being away is hard for ya—it’s hard for me too.” He pulled back to lock eyes with his mama’s. “But I never regretted it.”

“But maybe ya wouldn’t have felt like the army was your only choice. Maybe ya coulda gone to college right after high school, met a nice girl and been around long enough to give me a few grandbabies.”

Sy couldn’t help but huff at that last comment. Even when she was breaking down she was your typical southern mother—so full of love that she wanted as many grandkids as possible to share it with.

“Ya already have six grandbabies, Ma,” he admonished.

“That’s true, but I wouldn’t mind havin’ a mini you runnin’ around.” She pulled him down to kiss his cheek then wrapped both hands around his biceps to rest her head on his shoulder.

Sy kissed the top of her head in return, smelling the familiar fruity scent of her shampoo. She’d been using the same brand for as long as he could remember. In fact, when he was a teenager he’d asked his father to buy a different kind because he didn’t want to smell like a girl.

It was strange to think there was a time where his biggest concern was what he smelled like. Or that there was a time where his hair was long enough to warrant using shampoo instead of bar soap. He’d given up almost everything that tied him to a life outside the army but maybe it was time to make a few exceptions.

“I uh… I don’t know that babies will be involved, but there is this one girl that caught my eye.”

His mother immediately perked up, as he knew she would. 

“Oh?” she wiped her cheeks. “And what’s her story?”

“Her name is Leah and she… Well she’s one of my soldiers. She was assigned to my unit a few months ago.”

“Wow. She must be a real tough girl to make it into the special forces.”

Sy nodded. “But she’s got a good heart too. She’s an artist, she loves dogs and she’s real close with her brother ‘cause they’re each other’s only family.”

“Ya sound real smitten,” she teased, nudging his side.

“I guess I am.” Sy managed a half smile as he turned his gaze downward. “I just wish I’d had more time with her before she got on her flight to Denver but maybe it was better this way. If we got together while she’s still my subordinate and someone on base found out it could ruin both of our careers.”

“If she’s the one for you, ya can’t let her go. Who knows when you’ll have another chance like this. I think you should go after her.”

Looking out over the yard of his childhood home, Sy considered his mother’s suggestion. It had always been a little wild and unkept when he was young. His little brothers’ toys had always been strewn about, his own bike laying amongst them more often than not.

Now, however, the lawn was neatly trimmed. His mother had planted lush flower beds that were in full bloom and pruned daily. Even the house itself was unrecognizable after a few necessary renovations. At least the ceiling in his old bedroom no longer leaked when it rained.

He wanted that for himself. A place to call his own. Somewhere to return to. A house that would change over time and age with his family. He wanted a home. Hopefully one with Leah in it.

He shook himself out of his reverie. “Mama, I haven’t been home in almost two years. I can’t run off after less than twenty-four hours.”

“Nathan, sweetie, if you feel this strongly then there’s nowhere else I want you to be than with her. I want to see you happy.”

She stood from the porch swing, tapping him twice on the knee.

“Take the night and sleep on it, but I have a feeling your heart already knows what it wants.”

Sy nodded in acceptance, standing to kiss his mother on the cheek and pull her into another embrace.

“I want you to know, baby, that I am proud of the man ya grew up to be. It scares me to death that I might lose ya but that don’t mean I’m not as proud as can be that you’re my son.”

With that, she said goodnight before heading inside.

His mother was right, Sy didn’t need to think another second whether or not he wanted to go after Leah. He wanted to jump in his truck and head out on the road but he also had no idea where to go.

Sy pulled his cell out of his pocket, tapping the screen and bringing the device to life. It was late, nearly midnight, but with any luck the man he needed to reach would see his message somewhere between when he stumbled out of the bar and when climbed into bed with whatever man or woman would be warming his bed that night.

To Sy’s surprise, his phone lit up with an incoming call as soon as the message had been delivered.

There was noise in the background as he answered, some classic rock song Sy couldn’t quite hear clearly enough to recognize it.

“Why do you need Coleman’s info at this time of night?” BJ was shouting over the music but soon the sound faded, letting Sy know that he had walked out of the bar to take the call.

“Whatever business I have with Coleman is between us. Do you have her address or not?”

“Really? You ask me for a favor and you’re gonna give me that bullshit?”

Sy knew it wasn’t fair of him. Especially since BJ had trusted him enough to confess his own biggest secret. He was the only person that knew BJ was bi. They’d lost a man a few years back and it had sent BJ into a spiral. That was when he’d confessed that the two of them had grown to be more than teammates.

If anyone was going to understand how he felt about Leah, it was BJ.

“I need to see her. I need to see if she feels the same about me as I feel about her.”

“And how exactly do you feel about her?”

The Captain sighed, sinking down into the porch swing. “You really gonna make me say it?”

“Damn straight I am.”

He scrubbed a hand over his beard which was overdue for a good trim.

“I need to know if… If she’s willin' to give us a shot. If she can’t stop thinkin’ about me the same way I can’t stop thinkin' about her.”

Sy held his breath as he waited for a response. A moment passed. Then another.

“I’ll text you her info when I get home. It’s on a scrap of paper in my pack.”

With a relieved exhale, Sy said a silent prayer to whatever god was listening.

“That’s it? No follow up questions? No snarky comments?”

“Na, I’m just glad you finally got your head outta your ass. Your moping around was getting real fucking old.”

“I really owe you for this BJ.”

“Make me the best man at your wedding and we’ll call it even.”

An image of Leah in a white gown walking down the aisle towards Sy suddenly flashed through his mind and he groaned inwardly. Fuck. He really liked that image.

“She can make you her maid of honor. I’m sure you’d look great in a fluffy pink dress.”

“Don’t think I won’t do it, Sy. I fucking love that girl, I’d do it if she asked.”

A door slammed closed somewhere on the other end of the line, a muffled male voice following shortly after. “Babe, why’d you disappear on me? I turned around and you were gone.”

“Sorry, it’s my captain. Give me a sec. Sy, I gotta—”

“All good man. Thank you.”

“Keep me posted on how it goes.”

With a brief goodbye, they hung up and Sy made his way back upstairs. He quickly used the washroom and slid between the sheets of the queen bed his parents had purchased specifically for him.

The other two bedrooms had been turned into a craft room and a proper guestroom. His, however, had been saved for these rare moments when he made it home. He’d been the only one to have his own room growing up. The girls had shared one and the twins shared the other. It must have been the only blessing of being the middle child.

They’d changed it, of course, clearing out any clutter and moving it to the attic in case Sy ever wanted to go through it all. His first time back home following his enlistment, he’d had to squeeze his newly acquired muscle into his old twin bed. His parents had taken pity on him, investing in a bigger bed despite knowing it would barely get used. They’d also elected not to remove the posters of half naked women he’d put up when he was fourteen.

Sarah Michelle Gellar had been his number one crush at the time. It seemed his tastes hadn’t changed much—strong, sassy, independent.

His phone buzzed on the nightstand and he was happy to see an address from BJ. Sy immediately booked a flight to Denver for the next morning. He was able to find a last minute car rental as well but decided to wait before booking a hotel.

Maybe it was presumptuous of him but he hoped he’d be able to stay with Leah even if it was on her couch. He still checked availability at a few local motels then set an alarm early enough to give him time to pack some clothes and get his duffle ready. He was not going to risk missing his flight on the off chance that his body managed to sleep past sunrise the next morning. That was, if his impatient ass managed to sleep at all.

Chapter 19

#captain syverson #captain syverson fic #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson fanfic #cpt syverson #cpt syverson fic #cpt syverson fanfiction #henry cavill #cpt syverson fanfic #cpt syverson x ofc #captain syverson x ofc

[somepsychopomp]

What does simon think of bonnibel?

I could answer that plainly, but I thought I'd attach an excerpt from my Vampire!Simon AU that deals with exactly this! It's pretty divorced from the overarching narrative so I guess it could be considered a one shot set within my AU or a prequel maybe.

Forgive me for any typos or bad pacing, I started writing at 3 am. This is very much also a rough draft that I'd like to clean up before posting to Ao3, but this is really exciting for me to share :)

(There’s also one small reference to the special vampire power I chose for Simon)

Word count: 2460

+++

The Star heard Temperance coming, she could tell by the click of his heels against the floor. She never understood why he refused to use his power of levitation, but she loved him all the same for his funny habits. 

As it was, she was rather bored. Dad was commanding the minions from his throne, commanding them to push their territory outward to search for more food. 

“Hey, Temperance,” The Star said, drifting away from her dad to follow after Temperance. He was wearing his long-tailed coat today, as well as his polished leather boots. 

He smiled at her and tucked a lock of white hair behind his ear. The Star used to wear her hair long as well, but she’d taken to keeping it short in recent decades. But her Temperance was always a bit old fashioned, keeping the same long hair all these centuries. His neat braid reached the end of his coat tails, brushing against the back of his knees. 

She took his braid and swept it over his shoulder. She asked, “Are you going somewhere?”

“Just out for a walk,” he said. 

The Star’s eyes brightened. “Do you want me to come with you?”

The hive was fine and all, but she was itching to stretch her legs. Metaphorically speaking, that was. She preferred floating, but it would be nice to spend some time away from Dad and the minions. 

“Ah,” Temperance said, holding up his hands, “No, you don’t have to come with me, that’s alright.”

Her face fell. Then she popped her lips. 

“Oh, is this one of your thinking walks?”

Temperance nodded. “Yes, exactly! You wouldn’t want to hear an old man talking to himself, trust me.”

The Star laughed and let go of his braid. “I would if it was you.”

Temperance liked his long walks, he claimed he used the time to mulling over questions of philosophy or history. Or to talk himself through the next steps in taking care of his garden. 

She’d still like going with him, but knew Temperance had a fondness for his alone time. 

“If you’re leaving the hive,” another voice said, “Then you must take a guard.”

They both turned toward the king. He regarded them both with those bright eyes. 

Temperance made a short sigh under his breath. “I won’t be gone long.”

“I don’t care,” Dad said. “Take some drones or take The Star. Either way, I don’t want you out there alone.”

For a second, she really did think Temperance would choose her. She couldn’t remember the last time they had a few hours away from everything else. And The Star knew he missed her company, too.

“I’ll take the minions,” Temperance said, voice calm and clipped. 

Dad gestured to the three nearest vampires and they approached Temperance, stopping at a respectful difference. 

Temperance touched The Star’s arm and smiled. “I’ll see you later. Go help your father with his plans.”

She rolled her eyes and blew her bangs out of her face. “Alright, alright.”

He smiled one last time, then he was gone. 

+++

Simon tried to resist the instinct to levitate as much as possible. He had to remind himself that with his eternal life, wandering the land on his own two feet was no longer a taxing, unending endeavor. It wasn’t like those years after the apocalypse began. 

Now, he had somewhat of the opposite problem. As royalty, he was expected to sever his ties to human ways. 

And that was just something he could never do. 

As he left the hive behind him, Simon tried to ignore the three minions drifting behind him. They kept him within sight but were also interested in picking through the desolate streets for anything to eat. Not that there tended to be much life this close to home. 

Simon walked for an hour before some unknown force compelled him to stop. He lifted his nose and smelled the air. 

There was a faint trace of sharp, rich blood. Human. 

His brows furrowed as his stomach sank. What on earth was a human doing this close to the hive? An injured human?

They must have been driven here by some of the vampire drones. On instinct, Simon tried to determine where the source was coming from. He turned around and almost let out a scream when he saw a flash of human eyes before they vanished behind the broken remains of an old wall. 

So close. 

And if he could smell the poor soul, so would the drones. Simon began hurrying along, keeping his composure. Knowing the others would happily stop to pick apart easy prey, Simon cleared his throat. 

“Stay close to me,” he said. 

He didn’t look back, but could hear the glide of his vampire guards as they reluctantly gave up looking for food. 

Simon walked for about another hour, pulling out the gilded pocket watch from within his coat more and more often the farther he went. He hoped he’d be on time. 

Ahead, at a crossroads between two streets, was a faded metal sign and a bench. A bus stop.

Simon sat down and massaged his ankle, feigning some fatigue. After a moment, he leaned against the bench and lifted his gaze to the clouded skies. 

“Come here,” he said to the clouds. 

But it was the drones that obeyed. The lesser vampires within the hive were bound to the court like slaves or draft animals. It would’ve troubled Simon terribly, if not for the way these vampires so happily abandoned their human ways in exchange for supposedly eternal life.

Two drones hovered in the air above him and another crouched at his feet. 

Unperturbed, Simon asked, “Look at the sky and tell me what you see.”

And because he was Temperance, the king’s advisor, the minions obeyed. 

“I see…” one of them began, “...I see clouds.”

“Look harder,” Simon said. “Really take a moment.”

And as they looked, Simon checked his pocket watch once more. 

Without warning, three gunshots rang out. Three sharp, shrill cries followed. 

Then the sounds of three stakes hitting the ground. 

Simon put his watch away. He breathed a short sigh of relief. They were both right on time. 

He listened for the sound of heavy footsteps. Simon picked up the stake that had killed the vampire at his feet and turned it over in his hands; it wasn’t too badly blunted. 

A figure dressed in pink came up from behind him, falling into the space alongside him. Simon held out the stake and she took it. 

“Thanks,” Bonnie said. She slid the stake into a slot in the bandolier over her chest. She looked exhausted, skin covered in scratches and dirt. 

“You know,” Simon said, “If it’s so hard for you to get this close to the hive on your own, I could always meet you farther out.”

Realistically, he could probably walk for days without suspicion being raised. To his kind, weeks could pass like hours and hours were nothing more than moments. 

Say nothing of the discarded minions. The hive had so many drones that Simon could slip back inside and not have anyone notice he returned alone. 

Bonnie groaned and said, “Save it, Petrikov. We both know it’s better for you to keep close. I can’t have the King going ballistic at the idea of you missing.”

Or The Star, but she didn’t need to say that part. 

He sighed, knowing she was right. But Bonnie was tough, he knew. She got herself here without that tank of hers, knowing it was too big and would draw too much attention. And she did it every year. 

“Here,” he said, reaching into his inner coat pocket. He pulled out a thick wad of paper folded many times over. Bonnie’s one eye watched his every minute movement as a hawk would. Or more accurately, a buzzard aching for a carcass.

She snatched the paper from him and unfurled it, revealing the most up-to-date map of the hive that Simon could design with his limited cartography skills. It was terribly difficult to accurately convey a three-dimensional space filled with irregular chambers and steep, winding halls. 

The hive was almost a living thing. Its corridors were more akin to a labyrinth that shifted and evolved from year to year. Not just to keep intruders out, but to keep their captured prey inside. 

Simon knew that in just a short while, he’d have to start making Bonnie a new map should she ever need it. 

For a good, long while, neither of them spoke as Bonnie poured over the newest alterations to the hive. 

“That old atrium is gone,” she said softly, “You broke it up into a bunch of smaller rooms… and these vestibules along the westward cliffs, they used to be sealed off.”

“Excellent eye as always,” he said. 

“Thanks, Petrikov,” Bonnie said. She folded the map back up and tucked it into her pants pocket.

Simon felt his stomach clench. 

Bonnie had tried and failed over countless years to destroy the hive. She tried an old cache of human-made missiles launched from afar, raising an army of human survivors, biological warfare by pumping live animals with disease vectors… 

Only once did she ever use one of the maps Simon made, to infiltrate the hive alone on what was essentially a suicide mission. She hadn’t told him, but she paid a heavy enough price. 

He stared at her missing eye and the ring of scar tissue that her eyepatch hid. 

“Do you think this will be it?” Simon asked softly. “What’s your plan?”

Bonnie froze. She looked away from him and he realized it was because she was ashamed. 

“You ran out of ideas,” he said. 

“I did not!” 

Bonnie rose to her feet, swayed, then stood tall over Simon. He resisted the urge to ask her to sit back down. When she got into these fits, it was best to let her work through them

So he remained silent as she pointed at him and said, “I’ve tried armies, I’ve tried it solo. Right now, I’m lying low and trying to put together a small, elite team.”

Again, there was that question of and then what?

But Simon only removed a handkerchief from his pocket and polished his glasses. 

Bonnie sometimes went years without directly attacking the hive, The Star, or the King. He knew from scouting reports made by the drones that she devoted most of her time to diminishing the population of lesser vampires. 

She was too prideful, too upset, to admit that she was only really in a position to continue doing that kind of more subtle work. 

By the time Bonnie cooled off, after a good deal of pacing and muttering, and was willing to sit back down, Simon just so happened to be done polishing his glasses. He blinked behind the lenses and, perhaps against his better judgment, gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. 

Bonnie tensed. She had a stake out faster than Simon could see and only stopped herself an inch away from skewering his wrist. 

“Sorry,” she said. She put the stake away. 

Simon smiled at her, “It’s alright. You wouldn’t have hurt me either way.”

She scoffed, the corner of her mouth peeling back to show her teeth. “I would’ve ripped your fancy coat.”

True. Very true. 

“Then I would have told my tailor that I was being my clumsy self and tripped.”

To his surprise, Bonnie chuckled softly. She leaned her head against the bench and shut her eye for a moment. 

“What about you?” she asked. 

“What about me?”

Without looking at Simon, she said, “How’s your junk been going?”

Simon felt a twinge of embarrassment. Perhaps this was how Bonnie felt. He ran his hands over his braid, one after another, and cleared his throat. 

“Well… I’ve been successful in keeping more vampires sequestered to the hive by convincing the King we ought to improve fortifications.”

Bonnie smirked, more teasing than mean. “You trying to make my job harder?”

Simon felt his face flush. “Of course not! But more importantly, I think I’ve been making some more progress with The- with Marceline.”

Bonnie’s eye snapped open. She sat up straight and stared at him. 

Simon said, “She’s been eating more of the color red in private with me, I think she’s starting to learn it’s okay to not have blood all the time,” he debated with himself for a moment, then added, “And… well, she almost came with me today.”

At that, Bonnie said nothing. Only clenched her teeth and shot to her feet once more, fists shaking at her sides.

“Bonnie! Please-”

“Did she know you were coming to meet me?” 

Her voice was rough and gravelly. It almost made Simon wince. “No, but-”

Bonnie swore in German. 

He stood up as well but didn’t try to touch her again. He said, “Please, I’m sorry for what she did to you, but I know there’s still good in her! And I wouldn’t have let her hurt you. O-or let you hurt her. Or–”

“Simon,” Bonnie said, in a way that showed just how tired she was. Her voice was nothing more than a low, sad rasp, “I know you love her…”

Though she was facing away from Simon, he knew she was touching her eye. 

Bonnie never would’ve gotten out of the hive the last time if he hadn’t secretly helped her. He practically carried her through the subterranean tunnels when she was dizzy and weak from blood loss. 

She said softly, almost gently, “I know you love her… but she’s never held back against me. So I can’t afford to hold back against her. I’m sorry.”

Bonnie began to walk away, their conversion having come to its end. But Simon had to say something more, if not to defend Marceline than to even attempt to make amends. 

But he found nothing. No words of great inspiration. 

Instead, he simply said, “Stay safe out there, Bonnie. And be careful.”

To his immense surprise, Bonnie paused. Without looking all the way back at him, she said, “Thanks, Petrikov. See you later.”

Later being subject to debate. If they missed their annual illicit meet up next year, it’d take even longer before he’d be able to see her again. To someone Simon’s age, that shouldn’t feel like a long time. 

But just as he walked the earth, he tried so very hard to feel the passage of time the way humans did. To count the minutes and feel like they mattered. 

As he watched her go, Simon felt two ways. 

He could’ve stopped Bonnie. 

He could’ve gone with her. 

But he only turned around and kept his eyes on the distant hive. 

#simon petrikov #fionna and cake #vampire au #the vampire king #marceline the star #bonnibel bubblegum #marceline and bonnibel

[simpinberry]

¡¡¡Hola!!! Me encanta tu escritura 😍 Me preguntaba si puedo pedir un Bella Ramsey x fem! Reader headcanons donde Bella está celosa, gracias 🤗🤗 Espero que entiendas lo que escribí ya que el inglés no es mi primer idioma

Hello!!! I love your writing 😍 I was wondering if I can order a Bella Ramsey x fem! Reader headcanons where Bella is jealous, thank you 🤗🤗 I hope you understand what I wrote since English is not my first language

guysss heyyy!! sorry i’ve been gone for so long, life has been a bitch recently but i’m back!! here to feed you some very needed fluffy and spicy bella content. i’m trying out a new style of writing and i had a lot of fun with it. I didn’t proof read it at all so my bad for spelling mistakes teehee i’ll fix it later. love youu<33 have a good day gays<3

picture this: You and Bella just got back from the gym. They surprised you by picking you up from class since they had some free time and “missed you”. They were perfectly normal when they saw you at first, leaning against the door frame and waving over at you. You jump up a little in excitement and tell her your just getting your bag and saying goodbye to your friends. When you got back to them, their energy seemed to have changed and you couldn’t understand what could’ve happened in 2 minutes but you decide to brush it off.

You guys grabbed some dinner and snacks from the grocery store and headed home. Bella was unusually quiet on the drive home, only mumbling the lyrics to a few songs and only asked you about your day once. Strange because she usually goes on and on, asking about little details.

You arrive home and bolt to the kitchen to heat up the food because you are truly starving. That class was hard and you were ready to eat. Bella follows you in, placing herself down on a chair at the dining table, blanking out and staring at the ground. You call for her a few times and they don’t answer. You place down the plates on the table and call her again, this time lifting her head with ur index finger.

She stares up at you with big brown puppy eyes and a stubborn pout on their lips. “What’s up my big baby?” you coo at her. She dodges your touch and lets out a whiny hmm. She’s gonna be stubborn about it, of course she is. Letting out a sigh you place yourself down on her lap, straddling her and bringing your arms around their neck. She finally looks up at you and eagerly pulls you into a long, more intense than usual kiss.

“darlin, you wanna tell me what’s going on?” you say pulling away from the heated kiss.

“Uh, it’s just that em, God this is so dumb. Okayy, yk Jenna? From your boxing classes? It’s just like she’s too friendly with you… Like bro relax she’s mine. She’s just too forward and touchy with you, i saw the way they looked at u when you said goodbye” They let out a groan and cover their face.

“Wait a minute, are you…. jealous?” you ask with a smirk.

“No.”

“Bella.”

“Ughhh, whatever. So what if i’m a little jealous okay? ehhh i mean you’re my girlfriend and she’s gotta learn that,” they pause, taking a deep breath. “I just don’t like it okay….makes me feel bad”.

You notice she’s a lot more upset than you expected and realise she just needs your reassurance. To your surprise she pulls your waist into her and wraps her arms fully around you into a tight hug. They’re so cute when they get like this, you think to yourself.

Pulling away from the hug you immediately attack her face with kisses, making sure to get every inch and not miss a single spot. This sends Bella into a cute fit of giggles. Their laugh is genuine music to your ears and you feel proud you’re able to cheer her up a bit. You finish off by trailing their face with longer, softer and delicate kisses.

Once you reach her lips you pull them into a long deep kiss. Bella is an emotional kisser and this kiss was no exception.

This unsurprisingly leads to a makeout session. Bella roaming her hands whenever she pleases in a territorial way while you take turns tugging and playing with their hair. Time doesn’t feel real as you both spill soft and sweet moans into each others mouth. Sooner or later you both gotta pull back for some air though. You finish off the kiss by pulling away slowly, biting her lip softly, letting it bounce back into place. Bella rests her forehead on yours, panting a little.

“i love you, a lot. I’m all yours darling,” you speak up. Bella replies with quick soft nods. “plus if it makes you feel any better, i rlly don’t like jenna, she talks too much about herself”

“iiii love u too ig and i’m all yours too or whatever” she jokes, rolling their eyes.

“wait is that why you picked me up today??” Oh boy let the teasing begin.

hehehehehehe i also think that bella would be incredibly immature and funny when she’s jealous. she’s definitely not the angry or mean jealous that’s for sure but she will stomp her feet and act like a 5 year old.

It’s been a rare warm and sunny day and you’re chilling at bellas house after you guys took her dog out on walk. Their bed is placed against the window and there’s a cooling breeze pushing through the white curtains. You’re sitting on bellas bed with your legs crisscrossed, scrolling through your phone. Bella is sprawled out opposite to you, reading off her kindle.

With a loud sigh, her kindle falls onto their chest and looks up at you. You’re practically glued to your phone and she wants you to be glued to her.

“Babbeeee” they say, using her foot to nudge your stomach. Yet, you pay her no mind and continue scrolling through TikTok.

Suddenly, you let out the most uncontrollable laugh ever, throwing ur head back and hitting it against the bed frame. “owwwwww motherfuckerr,” you yell out in pain.

“That’s what u getttt for ignoring me” she teases.

“Pffttt i wasn’t doing that” you reply.

“Blehhh i wasn’t doing that,” they respond, mocking you. “whatever, what was the video?”

“Ha ha, very funny, it’s just a tiktok mar sent me” you say snarking back.

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“No it’s just that i see, you’re ignoring me for some girl, huh, i see how it is. Clearly you don’t love me anymore.” she pouts, crossing her arms and shaking her head.

“Babe that’s not tru-“ you try to plead your case.

“NOOO IIII SEE HOW IT IS. REALLY. THATS FINE.” They shout in an over exaggerated posh British accent.

At this point, you’re done with their shit and decided to go along with this little bit of theirs. Letting yourself fall forward, you plop down next to bella now levelled with her face. For extra effect you decide to straddle her, placing yourself on top of her.

“oh c’mon now don’t be such a baby” you tease causing them to brush deeply.

“um, uhh don’t be such a baby, don’t you have other bitches you need to be texting rn or something??”

“Isabella may ramsey.”

Her eyes widen at the sudden calling of their full name, knowing you only use it when you’re being stern. She locks your legs together, swiftly swinging their body over yours, pining you down.

“oh is that how we’re play it?”

“yes. yes you jealous baby.”

#bella ramsey #bella ramsey x reader #bella ramsey fluff #bella ramsey gf #bella ramsey head cannon #ellie the last of us #lesbian #lgbtq #nonbinary #wlw #bella ramsey x you #bella ramsey imagines #bella ramsey x y/n #bella ramsey gay #the last of us

[solar-sparky]

Could you tell us more about your agent 24 (if you do agent 24) if you would be so kind 👉👈?

Rubs my hands together with malicious intent

Okay so! Let's talk about Char (Charlie/Agent 3) and Al (Allen/Phyto/Agent8) these two goobers :)

(They/Them and He/She respectively)

A bit of background for each:

Char experienced something in the past that caused them to be way more solitary, not completely cold-shoulder, and struggle with "I cant save/help anyone.". They join the Splatoon to help Cuttlefish, since the whole mission goes well and they defeat Octavio, it gives them a boost in confidence, not a lot and they are relatively quiet about it. They finally felt useful for once.

Al (Phyto at the time) isnt a soldier, she is a mechanic. While not strictly working with the government/military, she is called in to work for them pretty regularly for stuff like weapon and tech repairs. Another job he does is Zapfish care, pretty self explanatory, he does weekly checks with the zapfish.

The first time these two interact is during the Splatoon 1 storymode. Al only recently started hearing rumors about an inkling running around and taking the zapfish, at first he brushes it off. It's not until she goes to do her zapfish checks does she find out that it is in fact true and she runs into 3. Al does try to defend the bulb where the zapfish is, but not being as skilled in combat as 3, he does not come out victorious and the zapfish is taken away.

After that, everytime that Al goes to check on the fish, all the bulbs are shattered and empty. (Except for one that she finds, that's where her funny looking little zapfish comes from. Its name is 1202.)

Fast forward to the arc of OE.

Al had been planning to leave the domes for a while (about 2 years) and finally she had a plan; take the abandoned underground train tracks that Al discovered a while ago far enough. (how the gang end up in the deepsea metro is never explained so we're going with this.) Unfortunately for them this is the area 3 and Cuttlefish are surveying/exploring and that also leads into the deep sea. They dont get into a fight (Per Al's signal) and instead they somewhat travel together until they reach kamabo co.'s territory where in then security gets them.

Cuttlefish and 3 aren't deemed useful/worthy so they are just taken to one of the abandoned platform stations, Al on the other hand is taken to be sanitized. The process begins but near completion, it is interrupted by 3 taking an unconscious, nearing death Al and hauling him back to the safe spot is with Cuttlefish and 1202.

I have a bunch of headcanons for how this primordial ooze works but to put it simply, since the sanitization process was not complete for Al, it leaves her in very critical condition. Getting back to Cuttlefish now, Al is basically gone, no response from him, no breathing, no pluse, no nothing and his digits are going white (if you dont know, when inkfish die, they turn completely white/translucent. I like to also think that Splatoon inkfish, after a short amount of time after death, dry up and flake away.). Cuttlefish and 3 cant really be carrying a body around for, multiple reasons and make the decision to leave Al there, off to the side and covered. However, Al's zapfish protests and squirms out of Cuttlefishs hold and rushes over to Al thinking Al is just sleeping. Normally 1202 would wake Al up by jumping on him or tugging at him, and if all else doesn't work, even if 1202 can produce little electricity if any at all, it would shock Al. After a few tries, the shocking works and Al is back, however now about 90% sanitized; having no memories except for only remembering 1202, which he then proceeds to carry around everywhere. It is worth to note that Al cannot speak during the OE arc, and he communicates through different means.

Instead of being who knows where in the canon storymode, Char actually stays with Cuttlefish and Al on the train up until 3/4 of the way through where Cuttlefish tasks them with finding an alternative route incase Al's mission and the telephones promise dont work.

A bunch of stuff happens on the train like;

- Char, while technically saving Al, feels really guilty for her state

- Being sanitized, Al does not experience pain and pair that with her inexperience, leads to her being pretty careless when doing tests and comes back the the train with injuries almost everytime. Char starts to get a little worried, even though the wounds heal very fast. They proceed to start pulling Al off to the side after stations and bandaging her up.

- With the mem cakes, Al does recover their memories. He tries to explain to Cuttlefish, Char and sometimes Isopadre by using the mem cakes, the best way I can describe it is like Al playing with the mem cakes like toys to tell a story.

- Al had 2 friends down in the domes, Aurora (Octoling soldier) and Skip (a failed DJ Octavio clone; Octotrooper)

I dont have a design for Aurora but I do for Skip!

Continuing on, Al has mem cakes of these two friends of his and when Char heads out to proceed to find a different route, he gives the mem cakes over to Char. Why? Just incase, Al knows they may have gone looking for him (this does turn out to be true).

Anyways, skipping ahead (I'm skipping Char's mindcontrol phase cause there is some stuff from that chapter that havent shared and want to keep for myself for a little while longer :)) after the defeat of the NILS statue, Al almost dies again from overexertion, both her and Char do go to the hospital. Char is omitted from the hospital sooner than Al due to Al's critical condition and it is atleast a month or so later that Al is finally sent home.

I'm waiting to see what the deal is with side order before I commit to splat3 storystuff with Al but that's the mostly full story!

Some little fun facts

- Sometimes on outings, Al likes to bring along Finch (Agent 4) because he finds them silly. Char is completely okay because Finch kinda just does his own thing.

- Al is decently clingy to Char.

- Both being Aroace (as with most of my characters) their relationship is funny in the way that while they call eachother partner, they are sorta in a way like "oh but we aren't like that, just really good friends." Which in a way that's literally what they are but they dont know the right word it for a very long time.

- Allen has more energy when compared to Char.

Anyways that's it for now :)

#splatoon #solarsparkyasks #splatoon agent 3 #splatoon agent 8 #splatoon oc #agent 3 (Char) #agent 8 (Allen) #agent 24

[azsazz]

Ruby Red

Cassian x Reader

Summary: Anon Request:Hi I love your writing! Could you maybe write something with a Cassian x Reader where they have been mates for awhile and it’s their anniversary soon and the Reader had been feeling like she hasn’t surprised him recently in the bedroom so they get like a nice red lace set and funky time ensues and Cassian is just like heart eyes for them???😵‍💫

Warnings: Smut!

Word Count: 2,624

_________________________________________

You couldn’t stop looking at him all night.

Cassian had insisted on meeting you at Rhysand and Feyre’s house for the annual Starfall party, the holiday celebrated across Velaris. You’d been confused at the time, when he told you Azriel would winnow you to the gathering, but seeing him in his sheer black shirt, halfway unbuttoned to show off his delicious tan abs and dark ink swirling across his chest, you knew that if he’d put it on in your presence you wouldn’t have made it to the party at all.

And by the smirk he wore every time his eyes caught yours he knows it too.

You hadn’t yet approached him, heading straight to pour yourself a glass of hearty liquor as your mouth had suddenly gone dry at the sight of him. It was going to be very hard to control yourself if you were by his side.

They’d always talked about males being territorial, but surely they’d have nothing on you while your mate looked like a God.

You’d seen him dressed up of course, for your mating ceremony and the dinners held with the Inner Circle, but never like this. You want to stalk over to him and run that expensive fabric through your fingers, feel it against your skin. You want your mate to take you home right now and bring you to bed.

If this is what he has planned for Starfall, you can’t even begin to wonder what Cassian is planning for your upcoming anniversary.

Taking another sip from your glass you peel your eyes from your mate and back to Feyre, who’s been speaking to you for the past few minutes while you gazed at your lover. She wears a knowing look and you flush at being caught.

“Sorry,” you clear your throat, embarrassed at the filthy nature of your thoughts when they drifted to your mate, “What were you saying?”

The High Lady shakes her head fondly, puffing out a breath of laughter, bidding you parting words as Cassian saunters over to you. Up close the material is even more beautiful, silky smooth and shimmering beneath the faelights.

“Hello, Love,” your mate places a warm hand on your arm as he leans down to press a kiss to your lips. You savor the taste of him; cedar and the bitter alcohol he’s been drinking. “Why haven’t you come to greet me?” The mirth in his voice is unmistakable, his eyes glittering with mischief.

“I hardly recognized you without your leathers,” you gesture to his clothing. Unable to stop yourself, you reach out to touch the fabric. It’s exactly as soft as you imagined it and you let your fingers brush across his exposed chest, causing the male to shiver slightly.

“Do you like it?” he asks and you look up at him because he doesn’t sound cocky, he sounds genuinely worried that it’s not something you’d like seeing him in. His brows are furrowed uneasily, mouth turned downward in question.

“I love it,” you place your palm flat against his thumping heart, soothing over his skin with your thumb, “In fact, how about you come home with me and I’ll show you exactly how much I love it.”

The steady beating beneath your hand picks up at your words while your mate lets out a hearty laugh, pulling you into his chest tightly.

“(Y/N), the party’s just started,” he whispers amusedly into your hair.

You turn your head, kissing between his pectorals and giving the muscle a kitten lick, “I don’t think anyone will even notice.” A blatant lie. “We can come back afterwards,” you offer at the knowing look he gives when you peek up at him, “It’ll be like we didn’t even leave.”

His body shakes with laughter beneath you and you let out a disappointed sigh before he even speaks. “I’d like that, but I think we both know that once we get back home we won’t be leaving for the rest of the night.”

“Is that so bad?” You pout, resting your head on his chest. It’s so warm beneath your chin you could die right here a happy female, but not before you get what you so desperately want. Usually you had no trouble getting your mate to take you to bed, why is he being so hesitant all of a sudden? “We’ve been to every Starfall party for the last fifty years, I’d say we’ve earned it.”

“How I wish that I could give you everything you want, Love,” he smooths your hair back, tucking it behind your ear with a soft look.

“You can,” you protest gently, pressing your body flush against his. You don’t care who’s watching, all you want is Cassian and Cassian now.

“Don’t you want your gifts? Or dessert?” he tries to distract you but to be honest, your body pushing up against his has the warlord trying to keep his own cool. “I saw Naula and Cerridwen made your favorite.”

“I don’t care,” you stare up at him with the look that you know he can’t refuse. “All I want is you.”

Gods, he really tried his best. He’d lasted all of a half hour before his walls started crumbling down. Just by the looks you were giving him he’d known he’d done well. He’d stayed clear of the other females at the party, for he knew you’d ascend on them like the beautiful huntress you were if they did so much as look his way.

You are the only female that he wants.

“Let’s go,” his voice is husky. He can’t control himself when you’re like this, needy and possessive. It’s so fucking hot, he’d take any sort of teasing from his friends to see you like this.

He scoops you up into his arms and you can’t hide the grin from your face as he begins the short fly to your house. Gifted to you by the High Lord, it’s lavishly over-the-top but you’ve grown to accept and love the home you share with your mate.

You can’t keep your hands to yourself the entire flight, kissing and sucking at Cassian’s neck as he maneuvers the skies as quickly as he can, his cock straining against his nice trousers and his body vibrating with anticipation.

“(Y/N),” he gasps at a particularly arousing nip, “We’re almost home.”

“Better hurry then,” you whisper in his ear, mouthing at his lobe.

His wings pound faster.

Cassian’s knees nearly buckle when he lands on the balcony, striding across the stones and shoving open the doors with his shoulder.

You squeal as he drops you on the bed, caging you in, lust wild in his eyes. He kisses you roughly, body dipping to meet yours but then you’re pushing at his chest and he leans back, confused.

“Wait,” you gasp, and he groans as you scramble and slip from beneath him. You’d convinced him to bed you, teased him on the entire fly over, and now you’re telling him to wait?

But when he turns to face you your sultry smile has him freezing in his spot.

“What?” he asks, and you press gently at his shoulders, urging him to sit down. His cock is straining so hard against the inseam of his pants he nearly groans at the feeling but he does as he’s told.

“Your gift,” you tell him, stepping between his legs and rewarding him with a kiss. His hands snake around your waist, caressing your ass as he stares up at you, chasing the feeling of your lips against his.

“Can’t the gifts wait?” he groans, “I just want you, right here, right now.”

And that cutting grin on your face makes his cock throb in his pants. He nearly whimpers as you step away from him, shaking your hand out of his because he doesn’t want to let go.

“You’re going to like this one, I promise,” you offer, slowly sliding the straps of your dress over your shoulders.

And he absolutely does. The dark silky silver fabric cascades from your body like liquid metal, pooling on the floor at your feet and what you don underneath has your mate nearly coming at the sight.

A set of lingerie that has clearly been made custom with the finest of dark lace. He’d noted the gloves you wore with two red rubies inset on the back of your hands, but he’d just thought it a tribute to him as part of your Starfall attire. Seeing this, a jewel sewn into the revealing clothing in all of the spots his own siphons sat in his armor…he is one lucky male.

Your name is a whisper of awe as you give him a spin, his wide eyes drinking you in, committing it to memory.

You place your hand in his and he tugs you gently nearer, his breath pants and pupils blown wide with lust at the sight of you.

“Do you like it?” you murmur with a soft smile, watching how his eyes graze your body. You shiver under his intense gaze.

“Let me show you exactly how much I like it,” his voice is gruff, repeating the words you’d spoken earlier in the night when you’d seen his shirt.

His grin is pure sex as he pulls you down onto the bed. You squeal at the movement, straddling his waist as he guides you to kiss him with a hand on the back of your head.

He groans into your mouth as you swirl your hips against his. You shudder, feeling the length of his cock through the fabric keeping it pinned to his leg. Gods, it’s been too long.

“You look so fucking beautiful in my siphons,” his voice is rough as he moves from your lips to your neck, palming at your breasts, thumb brushing across the jewel at the center of your chest before he mouths over it.

Cassian opens his eyes at the faint glow and his moan is guttural when he realizes that it’s the rubies glinting exactly like his stones, an extra charge that you’d had to pay, but entirely worth every single mark you’d spent on the outfit.

You trace down his exposed torso, tongue following in a hot stripe down his chest, fingers fumbling with the buttons as you go. You can feel his muscles contorting beneath your lips, his hands skimming up your thigh-high stockings, rubbing his thumbs over the two glittering stones there, the shuddering breaths from his heaving chest as he looks down at you with those burning eyes.

The button gives way easily beneath your eager fingers but the strain of his prick against the fabric of his pants has the rest of them stuck, and at the frustrated huff you let out he’s growling and tearing the fabric apart, buttons flying everywhere.

He doesn’t stop there, won’t give you the chance to tease him out of his undergarments. His hips lift up and you shriek, bracing your hands against his shoulders so you don’t topple forward while he makes quick work of pushing his bottoms down, his cock thick and dripping against his hip.

You rut against him, can’t help yourself at the sight of his enormous prick, twin groans filling the otherwise silent room. 

“Let’s see how bright they get when you come,” his grin is feral and your cunt clenches, breath catching in your throat at his suggestion. You let your head roll back on your shoulders at the thought, but Cassian’s grabbing your hands and tugging you down so you’re flush against his bare body.

It’s really not fair that he’s fully naked beneath you because all you want is to feel every inch of him as he fucks up into you, it’s been too long since you’d had sex, but you’ve committed to your Starfall gift and he seems to be enjoying it much more than you thought.

His fingers dip into your panties and you gasp as he brushes lightly between your folds, the stones adorning your body flickering in time with your whimpers of pleasure. Cassian curses lowly under his breath as he watches. He can’t stop looking at you, gaze moving from a stone to meet yours and back again. 

“You needly little thing,” he purrs as you grind down on his fingers, gasping at the feeling of his calloused and rough hand brushing against your sensitive clit.

He could get off like this, watching you, red siphons glowing brightly, shining softly against your smooth skin in the best way, lighting your features in the sensual light. You look so incredibly beautiful atop him and he can’t control his hips as they buck up, eager for friction.

“Cass,” you plead and that’s all it takes for him to slide the lace of your panties aside and press his dripping cock into your cunt. You shudder at his girth, he’s going too slow, so you settle down onto him with a satisfied sigh, hips meeting his.

“Shit, (Y/N),” he hisses, feeling the walls of your cunt convulse around his prick, grasping your hips in a bruising grip to halt the teasing bounce you give him. “Give me a second or I’ll come right now.”

You moan at his words, pinching your nipples, utterly aroused by his admission. It had been a while since you and Cassian had been in this position, busy with your respective roles to the Night Court, but the fact that you have him nearly releasing at the first touch of you wrapped around him has you pulsing with delight.

“As long as you make me come I have no problem with that,” you release a shaky breath. Your body is vibrating with need, if he doesn’t let you start moving soon you might cry.

And of course he’ll make you orgasm, of that you have no worry. It must sound like a good plan to him because he’s moving now, planting his feet on the bed to jackknife up into you, causing a drawn-out keen to escape your mouth.

He wasn’t kidding about being close because he’s snaking his hand down once again, circling your clit at the exact rhythm he’s memorized to get you off quickly. He saved it for instances when he couldn’t help but need you, before meetings, dinners with the Inner Circle, or when he was supposed to be on watch in the Court of Nightmares, when you had looked like sin in your dress and he’d dragged you into an empty room to take care of you.

You can feel your orgasm coiling, heat pooling low in your gut, and every noise of encouragement you make has him edging closer and closer to his own. He can’t hold it in any longer, not after the particularly erotic swirl of your hips, the sihpons on your outfit burning bright with pleasure in the darkened room. You’re almost blinding to look at, ethereal in the crimson light and he tips into a pleasured state with a shout, dragging you with him.

Your body is mush when you come down from your high, body going boneless against the Illyrian beneath you. He tilts your chin up, capturing your lips in a lazy but passionate kiss as he wraps his arms around you, holding you closer.

His mouth is hot across your shoulder, teeth clasping around the strap of your top and releasing, letting the elastic snap against your skin. You jolt on top of him but he tightens his grip on you, a sheepish grin on his face when you give him a look. 

Cassian brushes the hair from your face, murmuring sensually, “Keep these on. We’re most definitely going to have round two.”

#cassian smut #cass x reader #cassian #cassian x reader #cassian/reader #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acomar #acotarxreader #azsazz #starfall

[madarasgirl]

A Night for Hunting Ch.5- Obsession isn't Love

T/W: Alucard (Ultimate) x F!Reader, yandere, jealous vampire, centipedes, alcohol consumption & intoxication. Please take the Uber or stay over with your host after a night out and don’t try to walk home alone when you’re almost blackout drunk.

Btw I believe vampires like Alucard are extremely smell-driven. I hope the wait for this chapter was worth it! Happy long weekend Canadian and American readers! Words: 5029 On AO3

A rustle of cloth, a merging with the outer brick walls. With the grace of a summer breeze, the mass of blackness was inside, brushing past the quaint decor of a modest apartment. The vampire was one with the darkness, crawling along the walls, skimming the surfaces of your home to survey his territory. His findings were immediately apparent. He scented the elaborate floral arrangement upon phasing through the walls and making his entrance and approached to inspect it. It was a lovely display of blossoms, dense clusters of blue hyacinths in full bloom threw off their sweet, earthy smells, mixed with orangey-pink roses and dramatic peonies. The arrangement sent a gentle fragrance, which was quite pleasant, wafting throughout your home. The only issue was it also carried the hint of an unfamiliar male's scent. The vampire frowned.

You weren't there, unexpectedly. Alucard spent several minutes poking around, checking the windows and locks as he did the very first time he invited himself in to ensure they were secure. Everything else was as they should be. He glanced once more at the neatly arranged bundle of cut flowers in a vase. 

With a swish of his duster tails, the vampire vanished from your home without a word, setting out to haunt the streets and look for his human.  ---------------------

“Cheers!” You laughed heartily as you and your family clanged your glasses together. Dinner unfurled over the course of hours, where you noisily exchanged recent amusing stories to catch up. One of them retold the story of their nurse colleague telling the unit administration of a patient’s family complaining about wanting reimbursement for the deceased patient’s bursted breast implants after CPR, only for the admin to find out it was a joke the nurse made up when they were finally ready to go talk to the family. You were howling in laughter because they couldn’t not take such a complaint seriously! In retaliation, the admin arranged for one of the most serious attending physicians to inform that nurse they were being reported to Legal, freaking the nurse out, only to find out immediately that that was also a prank. It was brilliant. You nearly snorted your drink in laughter. The restaurant atmosphere was raucous and electric, but alas, all good things came to an end.

Finally, you had to bid your family a bittersweet goodbye with numerous embraces. Everyone was too drunk to drive home, which was to be expected after not seeing each other in so long. It was a splendid gathering, but maybe you overdid the drinks despite having eaten so much. You waved off their suggestions to book an Uber, stating it was still much earlier in the night than when you normally headed home after work. They were worrying for nothing. The walk will help you clear the alcohol.

You exited at the bus stop nearest your home. For once, there were people around. They chattered with the same excited buzz that mirrored your own earlier. The local shops remained open at this hour to serve the nighttime crowd, yet you couldn’t place what it was that felt off. Brushing the vague feeling of apprehension aside, you rode the high off the fantastic get-together with a feverish spirit and a spring to your steps.

It was now warm day and night. The streets were pleasantly calm despite the occasional clamour. It was nice to see signs of life as you headed home earlier for once. Even if that irritating vampire came to stalk you, so what? You felt as if nothing could dampen your glow tonight.

You were only tipsy, which was the best state of alcohol consumption to be in, in your opinion. Your steps remained steady as you thought about a multitude of things –what activities to pass the time with tomorrow, what to eat, whether you should work extra shifts this week. 

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, you felt the blanket of inebriation fall over you. Your thoughts wandered and seemed less your own. Your gait grew unsteady with more stumbling and weaving as you continued the journey. 

You swore you were only tipsy not too long ago. It was an interesting sensation when your mind was still aware of the body not entirely obeying. Luckily, you were able to place one foot in front of the other to take the nearly automated path home, which you knew like the back of your hand, even with the mind becoming clouded and not operating completely voluntarily. 

The excitement of the day finally caught up and you were spent. You wanted nothing more than to take off your makeup and fall naked into the welcoming softness of your bed. Closing your eyes briefly felt great, but you abandoned that after a few attempts. You were so much more nauseous with your closed eyes. Uh oh.

Step. Step. Placing a hand on the wall to steady yourself, you looked around. Good, there was the supermarket, followed by the stop sign with an ad for a dog walker nailed to it, as you expected. You were almost home.

It was so quiet now that you reached this part of the neighbourhood. Normally, you were hyper-aware of your surroundings during your nighttime commutes, especially after that vampire started following you around last year, but tonight, you didn’t even hear the leaves rustling or the typical sounds of wildlife and cars. Were you just too drunk tonight to notice the things you should?

How much did you drink? When was the last time you found yourself in this sorry state? Now that you focused on it, you felt the wind blowing and finally rustling the thick foliage of the trees overhead, only gently, yet it fed the nausea. You shoved it down and kept stumbling. Almost there. --------------------

Alucard drifted through the skies, occasionally landing to survey your usual commute routes before alighting once more. It was too soon for you to be coming home on a work night, yet he hadn’t detected your scent at all along your preferred routes to work earlier. It seemed you were free tonight, but weren’t home either. 

Twice his supernatural senses identified the signs of ghouls in the vicinity and he made a detour to dispose of them. Several shots to the head each, before he continued his search silently. In truth, only one bullet was required to end either of the ghouls, but Alucard was never one to be frugal with his silver. His jaw tightened. Where there were ghouls, there were usually more, maybe even a vampire.

As he circled restlessly back into your neighbourhood, he happened upon your scent in the air after too long and closed in on his little one, only to be overcome by the sweet smell of alcohol and the stench of vomit. He crept up to examine the sad sight of you hunched over and heaving to dispel the poison in your body. It seemed you were empty, so you stood to continue shuffling along as if nothing had happened after a swipe of the mouth. He was strangely irritated. Were you even aware of the risks you took tonight?

“How pitiful. And utterly stupid of you.”

Oh. You felt so ill. Did someone say something? Very belatedly, you turned to address the noise. Something huge and red was approaching from behind and you tensed up, fearing the worst. Oh. You tried to focus. It was only Alucard. A confusing feeling of relief washed over you, which was almost comical. Since when did seeing your stalker feel reassuring?

The vampire caught the passing sentiment before his attention snapped back as you started giggling. “I can see your eyes in the shadows. You don’t scare me anymore.” Your palm pressed against your lips as you kept laughing to yourself.

Crimson eyes narrowed slightly as he loomed near. “You were not home tonight,” he murmured.

"No really? You aren’t my dad. I don't have to justify where I am to you," you slurred and wagged a finger at him, then turned and sashayed away like a queen with the vampire following a few paces behind. 

Step, step, step.

Perhaps you weren’t as close to home as you thought. Did you remember the path wrong? No, the supermarket, the stop sign. You sighed. So tired. It felt like your mind was wrapped in cotton candy. Squinting, you sat down gingerly on the curb to think about where you were.

“I’m only taking a short break,” you garbled to your companion.

You fell asleep sitting on the curb, leaving the nightwalker staring incredulously, even if it wasn’t apparent on his face. Now that you were away from the pool of vomit, he detected the scent of other men on you. He frowned again. He didn’t like waiting, and the irritation grew stronger with each whiff.

You eventually came to and started to walk again, only to sit down with crossed legs in the middle of the street for another break not long after as you wondered why this was taking so long. 

This was ridiculous. Alucard stood over you, bent down, and plucked you off the ground, swinging you smoothly into a bridal carry. You were already blacked out. Distaste that even the vomit didn’t elicit nipped at his consciousness, but with your comfortable weight in his arms and his scent rubbing off on your body, everything became more tolerable.  

Your eyes were shut and being off your feet was comfortable, but the repetitive up and down movement was jarring. Why were you sloshing around up and down? Overcome with nausea, you couldn’t hold it anymore. “!!!” You threw up against a velvety, solid surface and felt instant relief before fading away. 

Having arrived at your building, Alucard huffed at the odor and the inconvenience of your vomit on his chest. He gently placed you on the ground and turned immaterial so that the emesis puddled at the ground before he reformed a few paces away and picked you back up. 

A silver vehicle slowed as it passed him. What a bother. He seemed to be quick to aggravate tonight. Alucard slipped off his orange-tinted sunglasses with an extra hand and held the driver captive with his bewitching gaze when they ignorantly made direct eye contact.

There is nothing wrong.

T-there is…n-nothing wrong. A small voice repeated.

The vehicle drove off, leaving the two of you alone once more. He stared at your delicate features. Disregarding the show you put on earlier, you looked peaceful now. The handsome vampire sauntered to the side of the building and casually strolled up the wall under the cover of darkness before stepping onto the balcony. With just a thought, it unlocked itself and he brought his cargo inside to carefully unload onto the couch.

He was on the other couch as he watched the gentle rise and fall of your chest and listened to your rhythmic breathing. Somehow you managed to spare your clothing a bath in your own stomach contents. His eyes narrowed, his lips a thin line as the stench of foreign males on your body invaded his senses again. The flowers only annoyed him now. His fingers tapped along the armrest as he kept taking in your features. --------------------

It must have been only around a quarter hour later when you stirred. You were dazed and jumpy when you made out the glowing crimson orbs fixed on you. With a nervous glance back at Alucard's inhuman gaze, you stumbled through the dark, making your way to the washroom for a quick shower and to remove the makeup. You experienced an episode of dry-heaving, but thankfully, there was nothing left to hurl. You brushed your teeth.

You were indeed less intoxicated now. How humiliating to be seen the way you were. Still…Alucard helped keep you safe tonight while you floundered about the streets like a proper drunkard. You glimpsed yourself in the mirror and acknowledged how you looked as terrible as you felt. Some food would help settle your stomach right now.

As you made your way down the hall, the lights came on for you. Alucard’s doing. There he was, staring imperiously at you with his legs crossed. The hat and jacket were still on.

“I…um…”

“...”

“Would you like anything to drink? Coffee? Tea? Um, I don’t want to look at alcohol right now haha,” you stated sheepishly.

“...” His eyes were so very red and luminous. Did he look displeased?

Unsure of how to act right now, you broke eye contact first and looked everywhere except in his direction. “How about something to eat?” You awkwardly stuck a hashbrown and some frozen nuggets into the small countertop convection oven and waited for him to say something.

“Attempting to come home alone in your state was unwise, human.”

Part of you wanted to argue, only because that was how you were used to interacting with him, but he was right. You’ve made better life decisions before.

“It was…” Your head hung low. “Thank you for bringing me home tonight,” you mumbled.

Alucard’s gaze softened, even if the tingle of vexation remained at the back of his mind. His eyes closed as he exhaled. “Coffee. Just black.” Crimson irises spun into a lovely sunset hue.

Your brows lifted at his sudden change in demeanor as you looked back at him before rushing to prepare his beverage. French press was your preferred method. Soon enough, you had a steaming cup of black in front of him.

You sat by yourself at the table while nibbling on your small portion of greasy comfort food. It was stranger than ever tonight when you didn’t feel like snapping at your guest. Was this creature worried about you? Why did he help you? Was it so that only he got to have you? All he ever did was torment you, but tonight, through the fog of the fragmented pieces you remembered, he was almost…kind.

The coffee smelled a blend of smoky and nutty, a heavenly mixture nearly as good as what Walter served. The taste…Alucard smiled bitterly. It must be delicious, but it was nothing more than piss water to his vampiric taste buds. The joys of food consumption were a distant memory from lifetimes ago and one of the few things he missed about his human life. Watching the effort you put into preparing each meal, studying your eating habits and your enjoyment of your meals truly made him nostalgic.

“How is the coffee?” You ventured a question.

“Excellent.” Alucard finished the glass without a hint of betraying his true thoughts on your first demonstration of hospitality towards him.

So vampires can drink coffee. You wondered what else he consumed besides the obvious. Chewing lightly on the corner of your lower lip, you crossed your ankles, then uncrossed them immediately when it didn't feel as comfortable as expected. There was a spider crawling across the corner of the ceiling. You brought your gaze back down from the arachnid to stare at the cuticles of your nails. 

It was so quiet tonight, you realized as you shifted your weight again. Was there no one else at home on the floor? As always, he was staring so intently, like he was trying to bore holes through your head. You swallowed before getting up and going over to your new flowers, missing your guest's deep frown. 

His human was anxious. You were, as was often the case, intensely uncomfortable in his presence. Not only did the sour tang waft off your pores, you wouldn't stop fidgeting in your seat, although he wasn't even attempting the things he usually did to distress you. Alucard's frown grew as he watched you put your nose in the blooms to sniff and then sigh.

How nauseating. "Lovely blooms, little one."

"Yes they were a gift from a friend." Your expression was soft. 

You were recalling another man fondly, one you were barely acquaintances with. A friend. His eyes hardened into slits, nostrils flaring at the scent he was forced to inhale a thousand times more powerfully than you ever could, even from a distance.

His satisfaction about your new hospitality was gradually fading away, only to be replaced with inexplicable agitation. Gloved fingers drummed restlessly against the plush armrest. 

"Human courtship is such a delicate ritual, entirely lacking in creativity or passion," he commented.

You tensed. "It was a sweet gesture. Not everyone is as uncouth as some."

A challenge? A devilish grin painted his lips and he chuckled in anticipation. He loved when you fought.

"Your florals, the prized jewels cut from their mother plants at the height of their prime? Doomed to perish within the week. Elegant as they are, they're a fleeting beauty, nothing more than the living dead clinging pathetically to a semblance of life," he stated wryly.

There it was, the vampire's freaky smile. Reminding yourself that nothing had changed between you, that he was still an infuriating ass, you retorted, "Human courtship should be slow. Morbid as your comparison was, flowers are a symbol of romance and love, not that someone like you would know about those things, even if you were human at some point."

"Love?” He cocked his head. "I do know of that emotion." His eyes flashed dangerously as he rose from the couch to stalk closer with his fangs bared, causing you to stagger backwards from your spot in alarm. The chair you sat in earlier fell over with a clatter, and for several seconds, you stared at each other silently. You didn't dare blink in those moments as your breath hitched, your pupils were dilated and veins coursing with adrenaline, the entirety of your attention focused on the supernatural creature who stood like a reaper in your living room.

The truce was over, you realized, and you fought to blink back tears. Alucard didn't do more to threaten you, but the situation took a nosedive for the worse during the last few minutes of exchange. Feeling like you were backed into a corner with no way to turn the conversation around, you excused yourself meekly and headed for bed, exhausted, the vampire luckily not pressing you more for now, though he tracked your movement with predatory precision as you brushed past him.

Alucard watched the bedroom door shut, followed by the distinctive click of the lock turning, as if that would keep a monster out. But you knew as well as he did that the locked door was merely symbolic. He was unwelcome in the inner haven of your refuge. He tasted the salt of your tears as clearly as he heard the sobs from beyond that door. The trail of fear you left in your wake annoyed him right now, with this revelation only serving to annoy him even further in a cyclical loop. What was this feeling? For him, your fear was normally a reliable source of arousal and delight. 

He redirected his thoughts away from the troublesome emotion and replayed tonight’s events. You unknowingly put yourself in danger, not only from the undead. The night streets were not a place for a naive little human such as yourself. There were plenty of unsavoury outcomes he listed to himself when he was combing the streets for signs of your presence, only to finally find you delirious from drink and vulnerable. It was a relief no one else got to you first.

After the shower, you were thankfully cleansed of the filth of another male's touch, yet you also removed his scent from your skin. He couldn’t find the word to describe the feeling, but he was malcontent with tonight's turn of events.

Historically, he was not averse to sharing his human companions. Man, woman, something else, it mattered little to him. There was a hedonistic gluttony to enjoying the flesh of multiple humans simultaneously. It wasn't completely true when he said he didn't eat human flesh. Through lidded eyes, he imagined the taste of your skin and salivated. How sweet would the slick of your flower be? What did your petals look like? Yet the idea of another’s touch on your skin was simply distasteful. He growled in a low, threatening pitch that was nearly imperceptible to human ears.

He was a king. But he could be an uncouth savage as well.

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

You woke up in the middle of the night feeling parched. Despite the snack earlier, you still felt the hangover developing. There was a pounding headache in your temples and persistent nausea that made it feel like your stomach was going to devour itself. The clock read 0440. Even if your room was pitch black thanks to the blackout curtains, it was almost sunrise during these warm summer months and the vampire surely must be gone. You needed some water.

It was still dark outside when you emerged from slumber and felt around along the wall for where you expected the light switch to be, only to have something hairy rush across your fingers. You pulled back in shock. What was that? Something small and fuzzy brushed against your foot and you shot backwards, crushing another little thing underfoot with a quiet crunch. 

Then you heard it, the eerie scuttering of legs…like millions of tiny taps that coalesced into a symphony of rustling noise. You stood frozen in the middle of the hallway, trying to make sense of what was going on to cause such a disturbance when the lights suddenly came back on by themselves. 

You stayed frozen as you blinked blindly in the garish light before letting out a soundless gasp at the disgusting sight that greeted you. Unable to process it, you only trembled in horrified disbelief. They were everywhere, thousands, no, possibly hundreds of thousands or more, of centipedes scampering freely, covering every surface in your home. They formed a writhing, undulating mass of scurrying legs that made the walls come alive with movement. More daring specimens ran across your feet and you madly kicked your feet to keep them clear.

It was revolting, truly a thing of nightmares.

Finally, you screamed. 

“A-ah…AHH. AHHHHH. AHHHHHHHH.” With your lips tremoring, you caught your breath as the realization of what you were looking at settled in. Centipedes. Why centipedes?! You hated the nasty critters –the more legs, the more harrowing they were. Several leggy abominations tried to scurry up your legs.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHH. AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!”

If this was a joke, he went way too far. You screamed and screamed and screamed, until the damned beast stole your voice to silence you, and still you tried to scream.

Thousands of eyes opened on the walls and floor of your home, and he appeared in the middle of it all, surrounded by an ominous crimson aura and a gigantic eye on his chest, his pet centipedes crawling up his torso.

You clenched your eyes to protect yourself from the sickening sight, your revulsion rolling off of you in waves as your throat finally gave in. You were coughing and hyperventilating as he approached with a frown and furrowed brows while you batted wildly at the air to keep him at bay. At last you found your voice again and you shrieked for him to leave with a hoarse voice.

“What is wrong with you?! Nevermind, just get out! I don’t want to see you!” Your eyes snapped open and you stared at him with a frenzied look. “I’m not yours or your toy! You’re just this thing that follows me around and won’t let me be!” You sobbed, your hands flapping in the air as you gestured to make your point clearer.

When the monster didn’t say anything, you continued. "I don't want you! You can have anyone you want, just leave me alone!" Your voice broke and you trailed off with a whimper as you buried your face in your hands and wept in despair.

The centipedes dissolved into nothing like they were never there. The eyes disappeared. Alucard took another step towards you awkwardly, intending to provide comfort, only to realize he didn’t know how. Your tears bothered him, confused him, and he was stung by the rejection. He somehow didn’t like how he upset you this time.

“Why can’t you just find another toy to play with? I don’t want to be part of your twisted games anymore.” Your face must be so swollen from the crying. Your vision was blurred from the tears and you could hardly breathe through the snot and the hiccups.

There was banging on your door. “Is everything okay in there?” It must be the friendly neighbour down the hall coming to check in on the commotion. You gasped and turned to Alucard with a distraught expression as you swiped at your eyes, hoping against all odds he wasn’t going to retaliate against the good Samaritan for the disturbance.

His face was shadowed. All these disruptions tonight. All is well. Leave us. He directed the thought towards the nosy human outside in the hall.

The neighbour knocked again, albeit more hesitantly while calling out your name. Alucard’s lips curled. He strode to the entrance, shocking you out of your stupor and you rushed after him in dread, grabbing his hand to stop him from…you weren’t sure. Was he going to kill your friend on the other side of the door? All you knew was that Alucard was extremely dangerous right now, but your weight did nothing to slow him.

He ripped open the door and glared at your neighbour while you dangled off his arm. The smell hit him. This…was the same man who gave you those fucking flowers, who you thought of fondly earlier. He hissed and the man lurched back from the towering menace in front of him. The hiss warped into a growl and the vampire took another step forward, sadistic pleasure filling his mind as the scent of absolute fear from the craven piece of rubbish permeated the hall.

“Alucard! Alucard!” A familiar voice called him with urgency. It was a voice he dreamt of when his dreams weren’t filled with violence, pain, and humiliation. It was you.

Alucard came back to himself and saw you. He glanced at the man outside, who had fallen over on his ass and urinated himself, before looking back at you. You were still tugging at his gangly arm, staring at him with huge frightened eyes, an imploring look in your face that begged him to stop. He composed himself. His human was begging him for something only he could provide, even if it was something as simple as ‘not ending the life of the other man in front of him.’ You even used his name.

He nearly laughed, the crimson in his eyes were molten. “There is nothing wrong here. Forget everything that happened,” he ordered the beleaguered human man sitting in rank piss, who gawped at the profane beast in a trance before the door shut on his face.

Inside the condo, Alucard turned his attention back to you with a sideways glance. You thought he didn't want you, Alucard realized. You assumed he was still only toying with you, that you were just a quarry animal for him to trifle with in his spare time. What was this feeling? This unpalatable feeling of distress at the thought of you by another’s side without him? 

“...You…are not a mere toy.”

You remained petrified after just narrowly averting one disaster. Your puffy red eyes met his. “Then what am I, if not a toy? What is this?” You asked with a whisper and released his arm.

His gaze flickered briefly to the floral arrangement, but you caught it. Realization dawned as you suddenly understood what just happened tonight with clarity. All this, because of some bloody flowers? He was silently looking at you with his hands at his side, his head at a slight tilt.

You went rigid. It was with trepidation regarding any more confrontation when you started speaking again, trying desperately to put your rambling thoughts into coherent sentences. “No, no, no, no, no, don’t say it. What you’re feeling, it’s just possessiveness and jealousy. You don’t actually care about human life. A selfish monster with no obligations or morals, as if something like you would ever understand what love is. You can pretend, but in the end, your obsession is nothing but a poor imitation." 

The creature’s expression fell the tiniest fraction. It was indiscernible if you weren't already looking at him through glassy eyes. You would feel guilty about it if you weren't so incensed by his idea of a joke and drained by all that transpired. 

He brushed away the disappointment from your rejection. Possession. Yes, it was what the vampire King wanted, to have you. He needed to show you. Pushing down the discomfort, he reacted aggressively to your words, a gloved hand shooting out to scruff you by the front of your shirt and pull you roughly to him.

“You are mine.”

Cold lips slammed against yours with a growl. You slapped him and staggered away, the sharp sound of the impact cutting through the muted background noises of your home. 

"Get out," you ground out. His three simple words confirmed everything you said moments ago.

The vampire stalked towards you and you felt the chill down your spine. Hellfire. Those were the eyes of a remorseless murderer, but you didn’t back down from the threat. 

“What? Are you going to kill me?”

He snorted and caged you against the wall with his arms. “As if you are worth killing. Treat your life with more reverence, foolish human.”

Wearing an aggrieved smile, his gaze ran slowly down the contours of your face. The rising sun casted a rosy hue across the sky, his body backlit by the gentle golden rays of promise. You couldn’t help but stare. The vampire looked nearly ethereal in this light.  

Alucard closed his eyes and withdrew. There was nothing more to be said and he should be returning. A new day was dawning. Sparing one last look back at you, he disappeared and left you alone, as you had wished.

~To be Continued~

Next chapter: The Living Dead

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