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kaizoku-musume · 11 months ago

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Entry #18 in @xxsycamore’s Visions of Temptation kinktober event. I have a brief summary of my OC here for anyone interested. Some relevant info before reading: in my omegaverse, female alphas and male omegas have both sexual organs.

Fandom: Ikepri

Pairing: Clavis x OC (Lisette)

Word Count: 5.1k

Prompts: Omegaverse/Breeding | Size Difference Kink

Title: Knot Your Typical

“Clavis, stop fussing,” Lisette said after the third time Clavis adjusted the mass of blankets and clothes on the bed. The unspoken ‘like an omega’ that a lot of people would have implied was missing from her tone; instead, she sounded fondly exasperated like she always did. If there was one person Clavis didn’t have to defend his secondary gender to, it was Lisette. That didn’t prevent Clavis from getting nervous at sharing Lisette’s rut together for the first time. But he appreciated her all the same.

The crux of it was, Clavis had been trying to convince Lisette for ages to let him help her through her rut, but it wasn’t until they were married that she finally agreed. She’d given a myriad of excuses: her rut lasted three days instead of the usual two, Clavis’ body wasn’t designed to take a knot, yadda yadda yadda. None of that mattered because Clavis had finally worn her down until she agreed, which lead to now, where Clavis was thoroughly stretched out (with her fist, and look, Clavis would never admit to biting off more than he could chew, but maybe he had), a nest made, nonperishable food and water stored nearby, and Lisette’s rut just starting to hit.

“You can’t just tell me this is the first nest you’ve been in right before you’re going to be fucking me in it,” Clavis accused. He loved her, he truly did, but sometimes she drove him crazy. His lovely, feral wife, who spent her previous ruts hunting wild animals and picking fights with the dregs of society, was a nutcase, and he meant that as a compliment. How had she never shared a nest with her siblings? They were close enough to be comfortable with that, surely.

“If I didn’t like the nest, I would have made it differently,” Lisette intently watched Clavis. Logically, that made sense. Despite having no previous interest in building a nest, she’d taken to the task seriously because Clavis did. She was easily satisfied, too, needing nothing more than a good mix of things carrying their two scents surrounding them. It was Clavis who was more concerned with the actual layout. “You can stop fidgeting. It’s too late to change anything.”

But this was their first rut together. And if things didn’t go well, it might be their only one, and it all started with the nest. Clavis had enough to worry about regarding his stamina in the next few days-there couldn’t be any setbacks right out of the gate. “Yes, well, forgive me for not trusting your judgment,” he waved her off, “You like to sleep outdoors.”

“Clavis,” Lisette said, his name spoken like a warning.

“That’s right, you call it camping. Except I know what camping is, and building a hammock out of vines in the middle of the woods is not it,” Clavis was only half-joking, sadly.

“Clavis,” Lisette repeated, surging forward, hands gripping his thighs. Her pupils were blown wide, eyelids narrowed the way they got when she was heavily aroused.

“Really?” Clavis raised his eyebrows in surprise, “That soon?”

Lisette’s nails reflexively dug into his thighs. Clavis could see the effort it took her to ease up on her grip. “Apparently. It’s never been like this before,” Lisette admitted, “but I’ve never spent it with a mate before. It feels like it’s hitting harder. Way harder.” It wasn’t like heats and ruts made alphas and omegas lose control

or anything like that, but everyone talked about how intense it was-kind of like an aphrodisiac, if Clavis had to guess. Lisette must really be going through it right now.

“Time to get the show on the road then,” Clavis snuck a quick kiss to Lisette’s cheek before flipping around and settling himself on his hands and knees. Lisette hadn’t been willing to compromise on the position for the first time Clavis would take her knot; her reasoning was that if Clavis couldn’t handle it when it would be easier on him, then he couldn’t take it at all. Clavis begged to differ, but sometimes arguing with Lisette was like picking a fight with a wolverine. Clavis had learned to pick his battles. “Come on,” he wriggled enticingly, “we spent all that time getting me ready just for this.”

“Fuck,” Lisette cursed, hands immediately landing on his waist, like she couldn’t help herself. Normally, there’d be more light-hearted teasing, more back and forth, but Clavis felt the tip of her cock press against his hole, and seconds later she was pushing in. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Clavis laughed through the mind-numbing feeling of Lisette steadily filling him. “Desperate already, are we?” They both sighed in relief when she was fully seated. “That eager to fuck me?”

“Don’t tempt me, Clavis,” Lisette said through gritted teeth, the tension in her hands and thighs pressed against his hinting at her struggle to stay still and let him adjust.

Awww, how cute. There wasn’t a chance in hell he would listen, of course, but props to her for trying. “What’s wrong?” Clavis clenched down on her cock, rocking his hips back, “Don’t think you can measure up?”

Lisette was worryingly silent and still for a few moments. “All right, you asked for it,” her voice was pleasantly calm, contradictory to the way she began fucking into him like she had a grudge.

Clavis moaned, “That’s more like it.” He braced one hand on the bed while he reached back with the other to hold onto Lisette’s thigh, feeling the power in her muscles as they flexed with every thrust. “Fuck me like you mean it.” Lisette was for sure going to scold him later for egging her on like this, but if she fell for it then that meant she had no high ground to argue from.

Because the thing is, right now, there was nothing in the world he wanted more than this. He wanted her desperation, her fierceness, her possessiveness. He wanted her to give in to her base needs, to recognize that Clavis alone could fulfill them. He wanted her to be so hooked on using him to satisfy her rut that she sought him out every time from now on.

“Have your fun while you can,” Lisette warned, using her leverage on his hips to yank him back on her cock, “We have three full days of this. At some point you’ll be begging for a break and I’ll remind you of this moment.”

“That doesn’t sound like me,” Clavis said, smiling with pride when Lisette laughed.

It became clear she was getting worked up faster than normal. The palace doctor-another thing Lisette hadn’t been willing to negotiate on-had advised them that the first orgasm would be quick, the initial onset of rut heavily influenced by the urge to knot and-well. So Clavis felt fairly prepared when Lisette upped the pace even more, bending over to cover his back with her chest. He was a bit disappointed at having to place both hands flat on the bed to help him bear both of their weight, but the change in Lisette’s position causing her cock to drive even deeper inside him was worth it.

Lisette brushed her nose against Clavis’ scent gland just above the base of his neck, breathing him in. She’d told him that he smelled like the food he made: tart and tangy with just a hint of spice. It should have been overwhelming, she’d said, but it was just the right mix to be enticing to her. Clavis had mostly just been grateful that the scent of another alpha didn’t put her off, and that he loved her woodsy scent, all fresh pine and chestnuts.

Lisette lapped at the sensitive skin there, circling her mating mark right around the edges. A shudder ran through Clavis, her prodding tongue encouraging his glands to release more of his scent. Clavis was going to say . . . something, he didn’t even know what, but Lisette snarled and pressed her teeth right on his glands, threatening to bite down, and whatever Clavis was planning to joke about was swept from his mind. He gasped, squeezing around her cock, and that seemed to be enough for Lisette: she clamped down on her mating mark with a growl as she stilled deep inside him.

At the same time, the knot at the base of her cock began to swell. Clavis thought he was prepared for it. He’d read the pamphlet, studied the diagrams, could list off every fact and statistic related to ruts. But it kept growing bigger, and bigger, stretching his walls right behind his rim an obscene amount. And he could still feel her cock pumping into him, twitching through her release, could hear Lisette’s deep rumbling purr throughout.

It was too much. Clavis stifled a moan in the pillow underneath him, hand shooting down to grip the base of his own cock to stave off a sudden orgasm. He could not come now. He had three days to endure, and the less he came, the better-he was not shooting off the first chance he got. Thank goodness Lisette didn’t seem to notice, finally coming down from her high. She guided them to lay flat on the bed, Lisette’s weight resting comfortably on top of Clavis, locked together for a good ten minutes. She definitely heard him whimper when their shuffling jostled the knot in him, though.

God, it really was huge. No wonder Lisette had taken so much time to stretch him out. That was probably the only reason Clavis wasn’t in any pain right now. It was just the stretch, the sheer girth of her knot keeping him both spread wide and closed tight, butted up right there against his rim. Clavis felt stuffed; he’d never been this full in his life. It was agony, lying still, unable to rock back on Lisette’s cock or grind against the sheets while he was still on the edge of an orgasm.

Lisette slowly unlatched her teeth from his collarbone. “You good?” she asked.

“Very,” CLavis assured her, “Nothing hurts at all, darling, I told you you wouldn’t have to worry.” Lisette hummed and pressed soothing kisses to the fresh bite marks. She edged her hips forward, digging her knot in deeper. Clavis bit his lip around whatever sound wanted to escape. He tilted his head to the side, mouth and nose buried in her hair. “How does it feel?” he said, nuzzling the side of her head. He’d never enter a rut himself, his previous illnesses when he was a child ravaging his body too much for it ever to be a possibility. He didn’t mind all that much-it was better to survive than to succumb to sickness-but he couldn’t deny the natural curiosity he had.

Lisette groaned, wriggling impossibly closer. “Un-fucking-believable, that’s how it feels. It’s so. Fucking. Intense. I want to dig my claws into every inch of your skin and drag,” she squeezed one hand between them, raking her nails down his back, scoring lines of red. Clavis shoved his face into the pillow to silence himself, a moan bubbling up in his throat. “I want to sink my teeth into you and tug,” Lisette scraped her teeth across the back of his neck before briefly biting down. She tore the pillow away from Clavis and yanked his head upward by his hair, grabbing a good fistful of his roots. “Even like this, I still want to fuck you,” she grinded into him, her knot bumping against his prostate.

“Wait, wait,” Clavis’ hands scrabbled against the sheets.

Lisette didn’t wait. “You feel perfect around my knot,” she cooed, “So tight for me. You weren’t made for this, but you’re taking me so well. It makes me want to use you until-”

“All right!” Clavis was seconds from coming just from her words alone, “Question answered, very glad you’re the one in rut instead of me, love, thanks for taking one for the team.”

Lisette snorted and let go of his head. “Don’t hide your voice,” she warned, “I want to hear you.”

It was around then that Clavis began to acknowledge the possibility that he may be in over his head.

* * *

Hours later, Clavis was on his back, legs wrapped around Lisette’s waist, wrists pinned to the bed above his head as Lisette rocked into him. Her need to know had settled, yes, but not her need to be inside him, to soothe the heat running through her veins, to mark every inch of Clavis-inside and out-as hers.

Clavis had only come once so far, cock long since hardened since then, trapped between their stomachs as Lisette kissed and bit and sucked on his neck. She’d been at it for five minutes now, seemingly in no hurry to chase after her next orgasm. Gasps and moans filled the air, Clavis unable to keep them in even if he wanted to risk finding out how Lisette would torment him if he failed to comply with her request. This was already torture enough, being kept on the edge for so long, his neck one of his most sensitive erogenous zones.

“Lisette, love, you have to stop,” Clavis urged, “I’m too close.” He needed to start researching herbs that could boost his stamina. Clavis enjoyed a good bout of edging, but this was too much. Lisette was way too focused on all his weak spots, because she was as twisted as him and loved making him squirm.

With a reluctant grumble, Lisette lifted herself up, hands gripping his hips as her eyes scanned the mess of hickeys she left on his neck. Clavis tilted his head back for her, proudly showing off her work, pleased when Lisette purred in approval. God, even that sounded like a growl from her. Why was she only like a stereotypical alpha in all the hot ways?

“I’m going to look like a chew toy when you’re done, aren’t I?” Clavis predicted. Maybe, when they were done and back to their usual lives, Clavis would have to wear something sheer so everyone could see just how much Lisette owned him.

“Mmm,” Lisette hummed, eyes darting over his body like she was cataloging where she would mark next. Her pace sped up as she finally went after her own pleasure. “That’s a nice thought,” Lisette said as she slammed into him in excitement, “You, covered head to toe with my marks, soaked in my scent, unable to walk when we’re done.”

And knocked up, Clavis’ mind supplied, the thought making him flush in addition to her words. Clavis couldn’t get pregnant, obviously, didn’t necessarily want kids either, but the thought of it: of Lisette being the one to impregnate him, her seed creating something between them that would tie them together forever-there was something in that chain of thought that was deeply arousing to Clavis. It was hard to ignore, when that was the whole purpose of ruts.

It didn’t help that Lisette’s smug expression when he blushed was unbelievably sexy, her nails digging into his waist as she pounded into him until she spilled inside, her knot welling once more. It put him too close to his own orgasm again, and he had to reach down and clamp his fingers around the base of his cock. Fuck, now he was thinking about it, about the meaning behind Lisette coming in him and then plugging it up. And that damn knot didn’t get any easier to take, always filling him up so much he could feel it behind his teeth.

“Maybe you should wear a cock ring next time,” Lisette teased as she collapsed on top of Clavis, nosing at the space behind his ear. “Remind me to grab the lube when my knot goes down.”

“I think you’ve come in me enough for that not to be necessary,” Clavis joked, stroking his palm along her back.

Lisette snorted and playfully swatted at him. “Better to be safe than sorry. You’re going to get sore before you know it.” She trailed a hand down to his hole, thumb circling his rim.

“If I do, will you kiss it better?” Clavis couldn’t resist saying-the set up was too perfect to ignore. Lisette burst into laughter, an openly joyous sound at odds with the debauchery surrounding them. They lied there, giggling and trading raunchy innuendos for the rest of the time they were tied together.

* * *

At the end of the day, when Lsette’s natural sleep cycle won out over her horniness, they fell asleep, Lisette’s perpetually half-hard cock a hot brand on Clavis’ ass she spooned him. It was a much needed break for Clavis, who was starting to flag earlier than he expected. In the morning, he woke up to Lisette already moving inside him, slow and gentle in unhurried leisure. Clavis had given her permission to, but had been half doubtful about her actually doing it.

It was a nice start to another full day. Lisette was clearly making an effort to take things slower, but rut was rut, and Lisette was too attuned to Clavis’ body at this point to miss when he was pushing himself too far. At some point she prodded at his hole without warning, and Clavis couldn’t stop the sharp hiss that escaped him.

“Hold on,” he shot up on his elbows when Lisette pulled away, “It doesn’t hurt, it’s just sensitive. I’m still good to go.” Did he sound too desperate? It was a herculean effort to hold back from grabbing at her like a child. They were barely a quarter through the second day. It couldn’t be over already. How was Clavis supposed to prove that he was the best partner for Lisette if he couldn’t handle her rut?

But Lisette hadn’t made a move to leave the bed or put everything away; she’d simply leaned over to grab the lube from the nightstand. She must have caught on to Clavis’ worry, because when she turned back to him, her eyes were narrowed suspiciously. “You’re clearly not ready to keep going,” she declared, slathering lube on the inside of his thighs, “I told you before we started this that I wasn’t going to let you get hurt.”

Oh. so Lisette hadn’t planned on stopping, just redirecting. Of course she was. That was . . . Clavis should have thought of that, honestly. Ugh, he always underestimated Lisette’s stubbornness. “I think it’s a little late for that,” Clavis gestured to his body, littered with bruises and nail lines and bite marks, hoping it would distract her from trying to work out Clavis’ thwarted breakdown.

Against all odds, it seemed to work. “When you can look me in the eye and say you didn’t like it, I’ll concede,” Lisette said. She pressed his legs together and tossed them both over her right shoulder.

Clavis tossed his head back on the pillow in an exaggerated motion and pressed the back of his wrist to his forehead as he pretended to swoon, “It’s the worst, my love, simply the worst. The torture you put your poor husband through!”

Lisette rolled her eyes and laughed at his antics. “My poor husband would sound more convincing if he didn’t just come from my teeth on his scent gland.” She slid her cock in between his thighs, the tip brushing against his balls and base. Her tone turned sharp and knowing, “Speaking of torture, what had you so upset earlier?”

Clavis gaped at her. With one arm braced across his legs and her free hand planted on his hip, Lisette had him trapped in a precarious position. “You’ve gotten better at that,” Clavis accused, offended. Lisette was usually so blunt and straightforward, but lately she was starting to use his own methods against him.

“I learned from the best,” Lisette smirked as she began to thrust, “But I don’t really need you to answer. We know the drill by now, don’t we? I can go ahead with the usual script, how’s that sound?”

“Not good at all,” Clavis attempted to shift away from Lisette’s cock bumping against his own, but he was stuck fast.

“Perfect,” Lisette proceeded to fuck his thighs wth a steady rhythm, unaffected by her deconstruction of him, “Now, I could call you out on your habit of unnecessarily worrying”-well, that was a nice way of phrasing his tendency to doubt his ability to keep her in this relationship-”but I think we can skip to the fun part where I remind you that you’re mine. I know that’s your favourite. If you couldn’t tell from the fact that I married and mated you, I have no intention of leaving. You wanted to be a part of my rut, well you got it. I don’t care if I wind up fucking my fist for all three days, I’ll keep you in this bed with me the whole time. You think now I know what this is like I’ll let you go just because I can’t use your ass?”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Clavis said weakly. He figured she’d be too concerned with his safety to try this a second time if it was too much for his body, but once again, her possessiveness led her to find a solution that worked for both of them.

“You mean when I tell the truth? Yeah, funny that,” satisfied that there were no more misunderstandings between them, Lisette began picking up speed, cock dragging deliciously against his. “You don’t have to worry, babe, I’ve got plans for you.”

Now that was a challenge if ever Clavis heard one. Sounded like he was going to have to step up his game. He flexed his thighs with every thrust, forming a tighter passage for her cock. His hands went to her ass, squeezing the plump flesh, urging her forward even faster. Lisette met his coaxing with ease, thighs slamming into his. It didn't take long before she was hunching over, spilling her seed all over Clavis’ stomach and chest, painting his skin white like a lewd work of art with a frankly unreasonable amount of come. To his surprise, he could feel her knot well between the tight seal of his thighs. Unable to resist, he spread them apart to get a peek.

“Oh,” he breathed, reaching out reflexively to wrap his hand around it. It was too large for him to circle completely, his middle finger and thumb a good-god, what was that, three or four inches?-apart. He’sd need both hands to fully encompass it. That monstrosity was in him the majority of the times Lisette came? Clavis shivered, his hole clenching in sympathy and desire.

“Fuck, Clavis, you can’t look so eager for it,” Lisette bent down and nipped his nose in punishment.

“Aww, does that make it harder to go down?” Clavis feigned sympathy. That wasn’t how knots worked, but he clamped his thighs back together around it to mimic the feeling of being inside him anyway-it wouldn’t hurt for a knot to be untouched, but it would feel far more comfortable like this.

“You know exactly what you’re doing. Keep this up and the next time you’re ready for me to fuck you, I’ll give you everything I’ve got,” she threatened.

“Lisette, darling, why do you think I’m egging you on so much?” Clavis admitted, laughing at Lisette’s expression, torn between amusement and resignation.

* * *

Lisette’s plan was use the rest of Clavis to get off when he was too sore: she took his mouth (without her knot popping, in spite of Clavis joking about it), his thighs, in between his ass; she even fucked his chest once. Clavis also gave her a handjob or two, taking the opportunity to worship her knot. It made the second day easier to bear, so that by the third day, Clavis was still able to take her inside without pain.

It was on the last day that Clavis enacted his revenge. Lisette could see right through him, sure, and she was getting better at worming the truth out of him, but Clavis could just as easily use his knowledge of Lisette against her. He had a surefire way to get her to fall into a kink she wouldn’t have otherwise (unless it was dangerous), because he knew her weakness. So the next time Clavis had enough energy, he guided Lisette into resting against the pillows at the headboard, climbing into her lap as he effortlessly slid down her cock until she was fully sheathed.

His sweet mate didn’t suspect a thing. “This is a nice view,” Lisette let her hands settle on his hips, simply holding on as she let him set the pace.

“You think every view of me is a good one, as you should,” Clavis started a slow, gentle grind, rocking back and forth indulgently. Mmm, but it was a chore not to just give in and get lost in the feeling of that perfect cock spearing him. But he couldn’t pass up this opportunity. “Lisette, love of my life, darling wife, lifelong mate,” Clavis crooned, saccharine sweet, “do you know what I want?”

Suspicion immediately crept into Lisette’s expression. “If you’re trying to get me to agree to spar with you, it won’t work. You could edge me for the whole length of my rut, but I don’t plan on ever taking that risk.”

Good to know, he’ll keep coming up with other ideas to change her mind. “I want you to put a baby in me,” Clavis said.

Lisette stared at him, dumbfounded. “What?”

“Isn’t that what your rut’s for?” Clavis tilted his head innocently. He gyrated on her cock, hips moving hypnotically. “Why did you think I was so eager for this? Just because you’d be fucking me for three straight days? You didn’t think I’d want you to breed me?” Lisette’s eyes widened, her grip tightening around his waist. Bingo. The most surefire way of making Lisette develop a kink? Just have Clavis reveal that he was interested. The sexier he acted while doing so, the quicker she fell for it. He had her hooked, now all he had to do was reel her in.

Clavis began bouncing on her cock, rising up and slamming down, his own cock slapping against her stomach and dripping precome that contributed to the wet slapping sounds coming from them. “I’ve been thinking of it ever since your first rut,” Clavis said truthfully, clenching around her whenever he sank down, engulfing her cock in his tight, wet heat. He reveled in how hungrily Lisette was watching him, her nails digging into his skin. “Thinking about you filling me up and having it take. Having a part of you within the innermost part of me for months.”

“Clavis,” a low-pitched growl rumbled in Lisette’s chest.

“I love having your knot in me,” Clavis said breathily, resting a hand on his stomach, “It’s so big and deep I can feel it in my womb. And I love how when you come in me, it keeps it all plugged up so I stay full of you. Next time I want to wear a plug in between each round, so none of it spills out. Do you think that would be enough to knock me up? I bet my belly would start swelling from that alone. Have you thought about it? How I’d be carrying another claim that I’m yours? How deeply you’d-”

Clavis was cut off when Lisette snarled and shot upright, hands holding him tight enough to bruise. “Don’t think I don’t know what this is. You’re the pettiest little shit I’ve ever met.” Clavis laughed even as Lisette planted her feet on the bed, fucking up into him.

“Yet you fall for it every time,” Clavis grinned in the face of his victory. Even when he gasped and cried out when Lisette set a brutal pace, yanking his hips down to meet hers, he kept on smiling. This was exactly what he wanted, Lisette unable to hold back in her need for him. He wrapped his arms around Lisette’s neck and held on for the ride. “Now tell me how bad you need to breed me.”

“Motherfucker!” Lisette snapped, jerking him close so there was no distance between them, fingers digging deliciously into his hips, thighs, and ass. “You’re a dirty cheat, pulling this on the last day. I was trying to go easy on you because I know your body can’t handle it, but you just have to go and push me, don’t you? Don’t blame me when you’re unable to move after stirring me up. You want me to knock you up? I’ll pump you so full my come will be dribbling out of you for days. I’ll keep you sitting pretty on my knot until you’re fit to bursting, begging me to give you a break. I’ll give you a whole litter to satisfy your needy ass. Then I’ll do it again, and again, and again. I’ll keep you nice and stuffed with our brood for the rest of your life. You like that?”

“Yes,” Clavis whined, clutching at her shoulders as he pressed his forehead to hers, “Yes, Lis, give it to me,”

Lisette did exactly that, slamming into him thrice more before coming, knot catching against his rim before she forced it in. Her teeth clamped down on her mating mark on his scent gland as she rode through it, hands still pressing him close. Clavis came right after, hissing through the pain, lightly biting his own mating mark on her neck, milking her knot for all it was worth. It was a silly, impossible thing, but something about this orgasm felt . . . different. Like the hot rush of Lisette’s seed carried something more this time. The idea had Clavis twitching through the aftershocks.

When he’d recovered enough of his senses, Clavis ran a hand through Lisette’s hair and rubbed her back, easing her through the last seconds of her orgasm. Her hips were still minutely rocking into Clavis when Lisette finally pulled away, licking away the faint traces of blood on her lips. “Asshole,” restless, Lisette kept groping Clavis, “I can’t believe you gave me a breeding kink in two seconds flat.”

“It’s a fun one, isn’t it?” Clavis said blithely, arms crossed casually behind her neck, “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist.”

“You made this a million times harder on yourself. You’ll need days to recover from what I’m about to do to you,” Lisette promised.

“Oh no,” Clavis leaned in to kiss her, “that sounds absolutely dreadful, how will I ever cope?” His lips stole whatever response she was going to make. One day, Lisette would realize that Clavis didn’t care what state she left him in so long as she held nothing back and gave him every bit of her. But for now, he was happy lasting the rest of her rut like this, closer than they had been before they started.

#my fics #ikepri #visions of temptation 2023 #clavis lelouch #my ocs #kinktober #age appropriate

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the-indigo-symphony · 1 year ago

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Wondering if we could get some advice and you& seem like you all might have some idea. Hope you don't mind us reaching out.

So another Tumblr user just made a post describing an experience that sounds an awful lot like experiencing someone else front (being in the backseat of your own mind, observing something/someone else pilot and try to pass as you, feeling half asleep, etc). We suggested ruling out stuff neurologically/health wise and then seeing a counselor.

Should we bring up plurality? Is that dangerous for them or would it be appropriate since they're asking? We know almost nothing about them as a person.

We aren't too concerned about being anon so we could share who we're talking about if that's needed or wanted.

Thanks for taking the time to read this and for any help/advice!

I think it's a good idea to bring it up to them, but you may want to do so gently. A person's plurality may be hidden from them due to trauma or it being part of a defense mechanism (as DID often is, for example), so it may be a good idea to give a disclaimer that if they do explore it as an option, to not force themself to figure anything out before they're ready; with something like this, it's better to take your time and give yourself plenty of space to take a step back if you get the sense that you should leave it alone.

It's also probably a good idea to suggest ideas on how they might figure out if they're plural. One method I like to suggest is journaling – every so often, you write down some basic things about yourself (pronouns, things you like, things you dislike, etc – any questions work, so long as they're in a consistent list you can go through), and experiment with talking to any potential headmates through short little messages. External communication like this can be easier for systems that have yet to develop internal communication, and it also helps to have something physical that you can look back through later for any patterns* or conversations. Relying on memory for these sorts of things can make you second-guess yourself. (You can also second-guess yourself with a journal, honestly, but it's harder to do so.)

* ex. if, when your pronouns are she/her, you sometimes like ice cream, the color yellow, and winter, and then other times when your pronouns are she/her you like chocolate cake, the color red, and autumn – if these sets of answers show up over and over, it could indicate that these are two different headmates who both happen to use she/her, but are different otherwise. These would be patterns in your answers.

But that might be a lot to drop on them at once. You could just say something like "what you say reminds me a lot of plurality, maybe you should check out (insert link to website here; we have some links in our pinned post if you want to borrow one of those; we recommend the morethanone website) or the plural community to see if you can relate." And then give the disclaimer that they shouldn't push themself to be certain if they get the sense that they shouldn't be looking into this, since plurality can be a defense mechanism for the brain in cases of trauma and it's not a good idea to force yourself to uncover it before you're ready, yadda yadda yadda you'll probably be able to tailor what I mean to the situation better, lol. And if they want some suggestions for figuring out if they're plural, well, now you can share the journal method with them!

Hope this helps!

#front soup.txt #asks

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foggyparadisecandy · 2 years ago

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Once more ... no need to read this ... just me discussing personal messy stuff ...

For everyone who has been reading these catharsis posts ... I want to give a positive update.

In the end, K proved she was strong and brave as I always felt she was and she reached out to me to clear the air and give me closure.

I will forever be appreciative of this.

It would have been a hell of a lot easier for her to just bunker down and let things slide. It honestly reinforces many of the reasons why I fell for her in the first place. The strength she showed in this action is ... inspiring. God. She still stuns me.

She patiently cleared the air while I basically, straight-up interrogated her. I just don't have the words to describe how I feel about her amazing fortitude and patience throughout.

It not only cleared up a lot of things, it continued a change of perception that I had already begun before she reached out. I had started reading up on trauma and personality styles so I could better understand her pain (not that I could help her at the time but ... I still wanted to better understand ... idk why really except ... caring about her response and pain, and wanting to grow for myself) and I had come to realize how much my style of "concern and care" was most likely just creating more stress for her.

I have no excuses. I feel awful about it. She needed compassion and breathing room and I was crowding her out.

And that conclusion was correct. As she cleared the air, I saw that is exactly what I did. God does that make me ill. I didn't know any better but ... it's a weight that I need to figure out how to deal with.

I'm not saying she was perfect. I think ... the key is ... we both responded in ways that were natural to us. I had no empathy or understanding at the time because "needing space" is so foreign to me. I literally could not imagine that someone would not want my smothering blanket of love thrown over them.

I'm learning.

It is a PAINFUL lesson to understand that she was struggling and I was struggling and we weren't communicating - it all broke down on both sides.

I've said she was cruel. It's so much more complicated.

Yes, her actions cut me and hurt me but ... I understand better now. She wasn't being cruel. She was trying to survive the best she could.

As loving as I was in my style ... and I've said this many times before ... I can be "a lot" and she needed "a little" or even "none."

I was busy worrying about me and giving in to my fears that I was panicky and desperate.

IDK. In the end, it doesn't change the outcome which is what it is.

She's home and safe. My god is this such a relief for me. I have been so ... beside myself thinking she could be seriously hurt or worse and knowing how I had stepped over her troubles and hadn't picked up on. And yes ... I KNOW!!!! people keep reminding me ... I'm not a trained therapist and yadda yadda yadda but ... ugh ... it was still bothering me. If you have never been in that dynamic, you can't understand how important her well-being was to me. I'm still untangling that feeling!!

She is with someone who cares about her. This is such a relief too. Connections are so important. Anyone who reads my blog knows that I feel connections are the heart of our "best lives." This is so comforting to know she is with someone.

She is working on her stuff and getting more in tune with life and all that good stuff. I'm so happy to hear this.

She cleared up so many big and small concerns and questions I had.

I had already forgiven her. I know she read some of my catharsis posts ... where my pain was on display. Honestly I feel uncomfortable about that. I don't like her knowing how fucked up I was and am. *insert super-uncomfortable lol here*.

Plus ... although I recognized that she was in pain and I wrote about that in my posts, I never really UNDERSTOOD her style - her need to retreat from the world when facing massive stressors - until recently. I regret commenting that it was cruel of her.

If anything, her response was natural to her, and if I had paid better attention to her, I would have responded in a healthier way myself.

It's funny in life how people like me who give "too much" are generally considered healthier than people who retreat. But both styles are learned behavior and ... both styles are unhealthy in their own way.

Look ... I'm not saying this to convince anyone of anything but the truth is ... my approach was cruel TO HER as her approach was cruel TO ME.

She needed to be able to breathe. I was doing some very aggressive dom stuff with her at this time and ... fuck ... she was struggling.

And she is sorry for her approach and I am sorry for my approach. At least we both have recognized we bear mutual responsibility. God. I wish it was as easy for us to each forgive ourselves. I know her. I know me.

"FORGIVE YOURSELF" is a lovely idea but so fucking hard to execute in real life.

Even though I can't fully forgive myself ... I'm done beating myself up at least. I can't change the clock. I can't know then what I know now. Those days are done. Things are where they are. I'm growing and learning and getting better, and I'm going to do better with my next partner.

And ... very important to me ... I would love her to understand that, with the understanding and empathy I have now for her situation and style, "yes, it hurt me, but I don't blame you."

She has nothing to feel guilty about or to be sorry about. I had already forgiven her. That forgiveness has grown deeper with my new understanding and my new empathy for what she was going through.

The entire thing was a two-way street and we should have communicated better. WE. Not me. Not her. WE.

I thought we had a solid relationship and ... honestly ... we really really did. It was beautiful and lovely. I will always cherish what we had. She shared so much with me and I'm so lucky to have had that with her.

But we hadn't weathered a tough spot. We hadn't planned on a trauma point.

The truth is ... I still feel guilty for my part so she probably feels the same. My words are ... not enough. She has to get to self-forgiveness for herself just as I have to get there for myself. Forgive yourself is so fucking hard as a principle. So fucking hard.

Either way, for those of you out there who have been reading all this stuff ... and for those of you who sent her good wishes as I asked (ty ty ty!) ... she's going to be fine. And I'm going to be fine.

I am a lot stronger these days, but still fragile af. I'm still low-key depressed but ... tbh ... I've been low-key depressed my entire life. And things will probably get uglier as I dig into my childhood crap ugh.

But I'm learning so much, so fast, and, yeah, getting stronger each day.

Some days are hard. Very hard. But as she and I talked about a lot: progress is rarely a straight line. Some days you stall out and some times you even go back a bit. But that's why we keep our eye on our goal so we can re-orient and start moving forward again.

And honestly ... there are things she's working on and well ... not my business any more and ... I admit ... it's so hard for me because I'm me and feel how I feel ... it's so fucking hard to resist the urge to "help" her but the best help is to leave her be. She's strong. She's capable. She's a fighter. I've always believed in her and had faith in her.

IDK. IDK. IDK.

I'm working so hard on all areas of my life right now. It still feels like a bit of a sludge but it's picking up steam. I feel like I'm waking up to new possibliities each day and getting excited about stuff that I've had on auto-pilot for way too long.

I'm feeling this blog is reaching an end point for me. I've written hundreds of trances. Most get very little traction and ig that's ok because I write them to express a creative side.

But truthfully 90% of this blog was written for her since late April. lol. It's so crazy that a few months ago, I was going back to tag things I wrote for her and gave up because they WERE ALL FOR HER!!!! hahahaha

So I guess I need a new muse or maybe mothball this thing. Or I can post fun stories from my therapy sessions - kind of a sick vibe - but everyone could hear more about my parental damages and how dark I got in my late teens and twenties. Fun fun fun. The Foggy of today was a lot less sweet and kind and loving and caring back then.

I am not exaggerating when I say he was a dark angry monster who wanted to hurt people. Ahhhhh yeah... maybe I will share those stories.

If nothing else, they speak to how people CAN change and grow and evolve. We are not stuck by our past. Yes ... our past does shape us ... but we can adjust.

Plot summary:

I mostly used daily meditation, pride journalling, HATE journalling (not my fave but I filled notebooks and literally BURNED THOSE FUCKERS to let go of my anger, hate, and fear), vision setting, and reading two specific books each year through my 20s until the lessons soaked in.

NGL I still pretty much live with non-stop depression and a dark monster in the back of my mind who I can sense sometimes when I'm extremely frustrated. And THAT is why I'm seeing a therapist. To help deal with all this shit that I've suppressed.

To that point, K - if you are reading this ... I ran across a post from back in June that reminded me that I was thinking of ending things for myself so ... yeah ... don't blame yourself for my emotions. My pain, depression, darkness has always been in me. I am not sure what triggered it in June.

Probably the store ran out of my favorite ice cream or maybe I misplaced my car keys or some other calamity of equal measure. Depression is a fucker, dear reader, and you never know who struggles with it.

Be kind to others. Be kind to yourselves.

And btw ... I wonder how much I've learned. A very good friend told me today that I was not listening to her. I ... am such an imperfect person. I need to do better at listening.

#catharsis #self love #self care

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veryloovy · 1 year ago

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I already have a short comic scripted out in my head about that. Like, I think specifically I was aimming for her not remembering anything recent so she could wonder why her dad is suddenly nice to her and why one of the Murder Drones is so attached to her.

Khan's at first upset with N over this, but he quickly finds that they're on the same page regarding Uzi, they care about her but she doesn't want them being close with her. Thad ends up being the only person she lets hang around, Thad trying to get her to open up to Khan and N. Maybe there's a moment where she thinks Thad is into her, but Thad is really uncomfortable with that since it feels like an insult to N to get with Uzi like this. N's watching this all the while and legitimately wonders if things are best broken between him and Uzi, that maybe she'd be happier not remembering him and the scary stuff they went through together. He also angsts over finally understanding what V went through with him.

N then realizes that there's a favor he should repay to Uzi. She helped him remember his past, he can try helping her remember her own. But then he's stopped by the idea that V never had that chance with him, is it right for him to use it on Uzi? He wrestles with it a bit, but eventually comes to the conclusion that V would want him to be happy and that things might never be the same between him and Uzi and that's ok.

N spends time with Uzi trying to get her to open up to him so he could have a heart to heart with her. Uzi fights against the idea hard, she doesn't want to see him. She's scared of him. Thad (and Khan at this point since she's cool with him now) encourage her to hear N out. One day she does, and they idk use the mind control thing Uzi used in ep2 and ep5 I guess, and N begins playing back his memories of her. Uzi at first thinks the memories aren't real, but as they progress there's this odd familiarity that sinks in. She fights with him, she dances with him, she confides in him. As the memories play back, it's like she's living another life with him.

Once he's done after he plays back that final awful memory of her getting reset, there's no big happy reunion. She sits there awkwardly as the memories sink in. N's concerned, he doesn't know how she feels about all this. She tells him she needs some space and some time to let it all sink in. She leaves. She wrestles with these memories. She knows it's only N's side of things, but he's so supportive of her past and present (and how much the guy clearly loves her). She feels... sappy. It's like she's learned to fall back in love with him but now things are kind of awkward (and she's tsun as fuck about him again). Meanwhile, N's upset that it didn't seem to go over well and that he might've messed things up.

She gets his attention later, N cheering up at this and noting that she's acting a little more like the Uzi he knew. He asks her what they're gonna do and she replies, "our first proper date, you goober". He's excited! Does she remember? Uzi meanwhile is using this to really understand if he's really still the same goober as he was in those memories. Yadda yadda, "after learning about their past, they learn to love each other in the present" or something. Things go mostly back to normal.

But that's all way too long for me to do as a comic lol. I got a lot of stuff already on my plate. Probably never going to properly write this out.

How I feel thinking about how N's memories have been wiped to the point where he barely remembers much of his past and now, faced with Uzi's upcoming identity death via Solver posession, there's a route this could go down where he's not even gonna remember her either

#murder drones #it's a whole fucking fanfic in here

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alirhi · 4 years ago

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part 5 - both yikes and yay

Coming up on the end, guys! I'm both relieved and sad. While the previous two installments weren't as easy as the first two, this overall has been pretty fun. Well, anyway, no one's here for my pre-show ramblings lol. Let's get to it!

Episode 5: Truth

Oh. Lord. There are things I love about this episode. Walker's whining, blame-deflecting rant is not one of them. Nor is his inability to take any responsibility for his actions.

Bucky swinging Walker around like a hammer is, though. 😂

Sam wiping blood off the shield with his hand? 🤮 Nope. And they really yadda-yadda'd him being allowed to just...walk away with a high-profile murder weapon?

Right. Rewrite for Bucky, not critique whole show. Focus, Ali.

Since Zemo's already taken care of, Bucky meets up with Ayo to make sure they're still good. He reiterates that neither he nor Sam had anything to do with Zemo escaping prison, and apologizes for not sending him right back as soon as they saw him. "Was it worth it, White Wolf?" He shrugs and reluctantly admits, "He did save our lives a couple of times. And the private plane helped. Just tell me he's rotting somewhere he can't get out of this time." "He's being taken to the Raft as we speak," she assures him with a smile. "Hopefully his stay there will be much longer." "Listen, I called because I have a favor to ask you..."

While Sam talks to Isaiah and goes home to work on the boat, Bucky goes to see Raynor. He'd left his burner phone at home, so he doesn't see until he gets back to Brooklyn that she'd tried to get in touch with him. "You called a couple times," he mumbles, fiddling with the phone. "I did." "Sorry. Been a busy week." Raynor chuckles and shakes her head. "Per Cap's orders, you're not on a strict schedule with me anymore. I was just checking in to see how you're doing." He shrugs. "Like I said, busy." "Any nightmares?" At that, he smirks a little. "You think I slept?" She laughs. "Flashbacks?" "No, I'm good." "You're such a bad liar, James." She grins, pointing at him. "It's those big blue anime eyes. They give everything away. So, let's talk about your most recent nightmare." "I didn't have any. I told you, I barely slept-" "Flashback, then. Something's weighing on you." Bucky frowns. "You know, not everything's about my past, Doc. In case you missed it, there's been some crazy stuff going on in the here and now that can 'weigh on you.'" With false sympathy, Raynor sighs and picks up the notebook. "You're never truly free of the horrors of your past, James. All this running around chasing terrorists concerns me. With what you did before, I'm worried this can be very triggering. I need to make sure you're not putting yourself or anyone around you in any danger. I mean, god forbid you snap and hurt Sam-" "I wouldn't," he's quick to assure her, though he looks nervous and doubtful. "Those days are over." He keeps looking at the notebook and fidgeting, visibly trying not to freak out. Raynor smiles and sets it aside. "That's for me to decide. If you want me to sign off that you're perfectly safe, you need to open up, James." "About what?" "Whatever's bothering you. No matter what it is. I've seen this kind of instability before; the smallest thing can trigger regression." Bucky flinches, staring somewhat sullenly at the window. He hates talking to this bitch, but if he might be a danger to Sam... "Alright, fine. I had one... moment. In Madripoor. But it wasn't a big deal." Raynor's smile widens. "Go on." "Zemo pulled this stunt, and it got me thinking about when HYDRA used the Winter Soldier-" "You mean you?" she prods. Bucky frowns, but nods. "Never forget, James. It's not 'The Winter Soldier' - it's you. These are things you did while you were working for HYDRA. Disassociating isn't healthy." He sighs. "Right." Smile returning, Raynor settles back in her seat. "Now... what did Zemo remind you of?" "When the mission was blackmail, not a kill order..."

Cut to Sam and his neighbors talking about getting that boat part off the truck, and a visibly disgruntled Bucky moving it for them.

While they work on the boat together, Sam segues from the topic of Karli into the things he's wanted to bring up over the course of their chase. He starts with the most troubling: "What did you mean by 'wouldn't be the first time'?" Bucky winces, refusing to look at him. "Huh? When?" "Don't play dumb with me, Buck. In Riga, you said-" "Yeah, I know what I said, Sam!" Bucky snaps. "It's nothing. Just drop it." "It's not nothing! What the hell were you talking about?" "You really need clarification?" he practically snarls. "You got the implications behind what Zemo was doing. What did you think I meant?" Sam cringes. "I didn't realize HYDRA moonlighted as a brothel." Bucky snorts and gets back to work. "For enough money or if it scored the right leverage, they had no problem exploring any use of their programming." He shakes his head, mumbling, "They kept tapes. That's how Stark found out about his parents; HYDRA knew Howard's schedule and they set up a camera... They did that a few times, on different types of missions." "Why?" "Advertising, in case anyone wanted to rent a killer," he grumbles, finally turning to look at Sam. He's hiding it the best he can, but there's anguish in his eyes. "And to make sure I always knew who I belonged to. So I'd stop fighting back." He clears his throat and looks away, pretending to concentrate on what he's doing with the boat. "It's hard to want freedom when you're constantly reminded that its price is remembering all the horrible things you've done. The freezing, the electroshock, the trigger words... It all made the memories just... fall away. For a little while. If I started resisting before I could remember details, they sat me down for my greatest hits." Sam lays a hand on Bucky's, waiting for him to look up again. "And you still think you're responsible?" "I did it, didn't I?" "'Under duress' doesn't even begin to cover it! Jesus, Buck! They had complete control over you - The Winter Soldier wasn't you, it was HYDRA's cyborg weapon!" "What difference does-" "If you were evil," Sam growls, "if you were a crazed mass murderer who had no issue killing whoever they told you to, do you think they'd have to go to such insane lengths to make you do it?! That wasn't you. You are not responsible for what HYDRA used your body to do when they stripped away and shoved down everything that made you you." He's not getting through. Sam's logic still isn't strong enough to break through Bucky's guilt, especially not with Raynor's toxic "therapy" shoring it up. Seeing the stubborn refusal to believe him in Bucky's eyes, Sam sighs and gets back to work. To keep Bucky from breaking, he mutters, "So, the staring problem. Did they create that, or fail to correct it?" "Bite me, pigeon." Bucky grins, still shaken and hurting, but grateful for the banter.

When Sam invites him to spend the night and Bucky finally gets some sleep, he has another nightmare. No flashback for details this time, but he jolts awake when he hears Sarah's kids playing and is a little rattled and disoriented for a second before he gets his bearings. Then he sees the boys and we get the pretty, pretty smile and the soft, pensive look.

credit: @msbeliever05 found on google

While he's holding the crow bar in place for Sam, Bucky quietly admits, "You know, it doesn't even have to be the right words. Sometimes just hearing someone speak Russian terrifies me." "That's understandable," Sam assures him. "Everything they did to you, didn't it all happen in Russia?" "Most of it, yeah. That bunker in Siberia basically houses all of my worst nightmares. I was thinking this morning..." He glances toward the house. "What if something happens and I hurt someone? Hurt them?" "You won't." Sam's tone is kind, but firm and leaves no room for argument. "No one can make you hurt anyone you don't want to again, Buck. You're free." "Am I?" The look on Bucky's face is so sad; so lost and devoid of hope. "My life... doesn't feel all that different. My family's gone, my only friend is gone... People either don't see me or they shrink from me. I'm still a ghost." "Yeah, well, now you get to choose who to haunt." Sam shrugs, managing a tiny, half-hearted smile. "It's a start, right?" Bucky chuckles; it's just as weak as Sam's smile, but he's trying. "Is that what I'm doing here? Haunting you?" "Better me than my sister." He grins, and this time it mostly reaches his eyes. "If I'd known you were interested, I'd have made a move on Zemo's plane." Sam gapes at him, expression an odd mix of shocked, amused, and extremely uncomfortable. "That is not what I meant!" Laughing, Bucky moves past him, patting his ass on his way by. "So, no Wilson-Barnes sandwich? Damn. There goes the only good dream I had last night." "Quit making it weird!" Sam sputters, but he's laughing, too. It's obvious Bucky's joking. They get back to work, still laughing and joking around.

Hoo boy. And now we come to The Moment.

"The legacy of that shield is...complicated, to say the least." "When Steve told me what he was planning, I don't think either of us really understood what it felt like for a black man to be handed the shield. How could we? I owe you an apology. I'm sorry." Sam sighs as he takes the shield back. "Thank you." There's a brief, somewhat awkward silence while both men collect their thoughts. Then Sam speaks again. "I can't help wondering still if it's even worth it. I mean, for every Steve Rogers..." He nods to Bucky. "There's a Bucky Barnes. There's someone getting used and abused and hidden away like a dirty secret to make way for this bright, shining symbol. People want Captain America to be perfect and untarnished, but they don't see all the blood spilled to make way for him." Bucky snorts. "Trust me, I know. I was the sniper at his back keeping him from getting his reckless star-spangled head blown off." "Nah." Sam shakes his head. "You're not listening. I'm not talking about what you did, I'm talking about what was done to you. Man, you still don't even see it, do you?" "See what?" "It wasn't your fault." He stares Bucky down, trying to get him to see the truth. "None of it. You were captured, tortured, experimented on... Reduced to a code name because it wasn't enough to strip away your autonomy, they didn't even want you to have an identity." Bucky looks away, not sure what to say to any of this. "You're not a villain, Buck," Sam assures him quietly. "You're an Avenger." "The Avengers are heroes," Bucky protests, scowling. "You save lives. All I did was take them." "We try," he says with a smile and a little shrug, "Sometimes we fail pretty hard, but we try. And so do you. Are you really gonna stand there, after all the times you've had my back, had Steve's back, stood for what's right, even when it would have been so much easier to cut your losses and run, and tell me you're not a hero? Man, I'd throw this thing at your head if I wasn't afraid it'd bounce off and hit me." "Do it," Bucky taunts. "Might knock some sense into you. If you think the Winter Soldier is a hero-" "Not the Winter Soldier," Sam interrupts, poking Bucky's chest. "You. James Bucky Barnes. Cap is gone, but he wasn't the only hero this world had." He smirks. "You just gotta pull your head out of your ass and quit wallowing. Make yourself useful." With a weak attempt at a laugh, Bucky pulls the tiny notebook out of his pocket. "That's what this is all about. I figured... If it worked for Steve, it'd work for me." Sam shakes his head again, frustrated. "Steve's list was all about acclimating to a whole new century. Pop culture and slang and whatever else. Your list? Those names? That's sick, Bucky. That's all about torturing yourself for seventy years worth of actions that weren't your fault to begin with. That's not gonna help you. And Steve's got nothing to do with it." "Yeah, well, Doctor Raynor thinks-" "Raynor?" He waves Bucky silent. "That sad excuse for a shrink that wasted our time and violated your privacy in Baltimore? Tell me you're not listening to that hack!" Bucky shrugs helplessly, looking lost again. "She's my therapist." "She's something," Sam growls, "but therapy's not involved. I don't know what her agenda is, or if she's just grossly incompetent, but if she's got you confronting HYDRA's victims, ripping open your wounds and theirs, that's not therapy. It's not healthy for anyone." Bucky's confused, not sure whether he agrees with Sam or not, and it shows when he weakly argues, "She's helping me cope with what I did; make amends for everything I did as the Winter Soldier. So that maybe I can finally have a life at the end of all this." "You gotta stop looking to other people to tell you who you are." (I fucking love that line! every time I watch this part, I'm like "go, Sam!" ...until the rest of his nonsensical, totally ooc speech, anyway.) "Let me ask you... You still having those nightmares?" "All the time," Bucky confirms with a wry twist of his mouth that can't even be called a smile. "It means I remember; means a part of

me's still there; means a part of the Winter Soldier is still in me." "No it doesn't," Sam snaps. "It means your brain works. Congratulations, you

have memory. That doesn't make you a monster. It makes you impressive, after all the damage your brain has sustained over the years, but not a monster. You up for a little 'tough love'?" "Isn't that what this whole conversation has been?" Sam chuckles, shrugs, and gets back on track. "You wanna climb out of that Hell you're in, do the work. Do it." Bucky holds up the notebook, confused again. "I have been-" "No, you've been wallowing and flogging yourself. I mean face your nightmares, your fears. Sit down and confront those memories and see them for what they are: trauma. Bucky, you're not a reformed operative. You're as much a victim of HYDRA as the people they used you to hurt. You wanna get better? You want a life, a light at the end of that tunnel? Face the darkness and see it for what it truly is. It's not sins to be repented and redeemed, it's PTSD." Touched, Bucky finally manages a real smile. "Good talk."

You know I'm not touching their cute banter as Bucky leaves 💗 So here is where we leave it.

#tfatws #tfatws critical #how it should have gone #if i'd written it #pro bucky barnes #bucky barnes #sebastian stan

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after-witch · 5 years ago

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Vacation, All I Ever Wanted (Yandere Hawks x Reader)

Title: Vacation, All I Ever Wanted (Yandere Hawks x Reader)

Synopsis: You tentatively agree to visit Japan with some friends for a vacation, two years after breaking up with your controlling ex-boyfriend, Keigo Takami.

(Request) Anonymous said: I am currently on a hawks high don’t ask why... lol and all I can currently think of is that after hawks ex returns to japan on vacation they “bump” into each other and he’s tries to act friendly and his ex at this point is like hi, bye and stop acting like we are together

Word Count:

notes: yandere, manipulative behavior

~Vacation, all I ever wanted

Vacation, had to get away~

You take a moment to stop and glance around you, taking in the once familiar sights and sounds of the place you’d called home for so long. You haven’t been back to Japan since… well, since breaking it off with your very popular, very famous, and very controlling boyfriend--Keigo Takami, better known to anyone who wasn’t living under a rock as “Hawks.”

He’d been sweet a first, doting and almost too perfect, but bit by bit he showed his true colors. True feathers, as you once said to the friend who helped you leave--she didn’t find the joke funny. Then again, hearing about how your best friend was being abused and manipulated by her seemingly loving boyfriend probably wasn’t the funniest thing in the world.

Still, she’d helped you out. Helped you come up with a cover story, helped you sneak your personal things out of the apartment you and Hawks shared bit by bit--then helped you make an agonizing, stomach-churning escape out of the country.

She insisted you ditch your phone, any technology connecting you to your life in Japan; you had sent one last text message to Keigo, saying that you were breaking up, that you were going somewhere safe, but to never contact you again.

Two years later, and you were finally back. Just for a vacation. Just for two weeks. Your friend originally balked at the idea, but you wheedled and wheedled--it would be safe if you two went together, and besides, he hadn’t even tried to contact you in the years that you’d been away. He must have moved on. She didn’t agree to let you roam about the streets near your old apartment alone, but what she doesn’t know (and she definitely didn’t know--you glance at your phone and see another worried text; you take a moment to tap out a reply: “I’m FINE, just going to get some snacks, staying near the hotel!!”) won’t hurt her.

You take a deep breathe and swear you could smell the warm, baking pastries from your favorite cafe. It wouldn’t hurt to stop in, and you could bring back snacks, just like you’d said. You cross the street, feeling safer and bold lost in the crowds that walked with you, and begin to make your way towards the cafe you used to visit every morning. You can practically taste the sweet drinks and crunchy pastries.

But as you turn the corner, the warm feeling in your stomach suddenly turns ice cold. You feel like your guts have dropped to the floor.

He’s right there.

Keigo. Hawks. Your ex. Standing on a podium, addressing a crowd and a few reporters. Something about catching a villain, all in a day’s work, yadda yadda. You aren’t really hearing the words, only the sound of his voice rushing in your ears--all at once close and distant, reminding you of the arguments and threats and guilt-ridden manipulation.

Your legs suddenly feel like jelly, mushy and trembling. You want to run back the other way but then you realize that he’d probably see the sudden movement. So you wait until someone walks by, then turn to walk alongside them.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Hawks pause for a moment. Just a moment. His eyes lock with yours.

Oh, fuck, you think. Oh fuck oh fuck oh--

You wait to feel his hands on your shoulders or hear him call out, but… nothing happens. You continue walking down the street, forcing your fear-numbed legs to keep moving--one step, two step. You can feel cold sweat trickling uncomfortably down your back.

The person you followed crosses the street and you’re left on your own. Maybe he didn’t really see you, you think. Maybe I imagined it. You start to feel more confident in your escape, and reach into your purse to grab your phone and call your friend--

Only for the device to be snatched out of your hands in an instant.

“Hey babe! Take any cute selfies recently?”

You don’t have to look up to see who it is. It’s Hawks. He’s found you.

You quickly turn, trying to run--but he wraps his arms around your shoulders and pulls you in. Tight. Hard. You’re not going anywhere.

“You feelin’ all right, (Y/N)? You look kinda pale. Hey, I know!” He pulls you in closer, and the scent memory of his cologne makes you feel sick. “Let’s go get some lunch! How about something from your favorite place?”

You force yourself to finally look at him, and the sight makes you flinch. He looks… so normal. Like he did on his good days when you weren’t fighting. He’s grinning, nonchalant, a soft look of concern showing in his quirked eyebrows. You thought he’d scream at you, call you a bitch for leaving, or ask where the hell you’d been.

It’s--it’s like you never left, you realize.

“Keigo--” you start, then suddenly press your lips together. You don’t know what to say. Get the hell away from me? He’s not doing anything threatening, technically, but all you know is that you want to leave. Now. And call your friend. Oh, you think. He has your phone.

You reach for it, and he holds it higher, out of your reach. He laughs. The sound is grating to your ears.

“Nuh-uh, no phones today! Remember, you wanted to cut down on screen time?”

You stare at him numbly. “What are you talking about, I don’t--never mind, just… just, give me my phone back.”

He tuts at you. “No way! I gave you your phone back the last time we had a nice lunch date, remember? And you spent the whole time texting your friend instead of paying attention to your totally-loving boyfriend.” His tone is light, jovial--as if you didn’t make a planned escape, as if you didn’t cut off all contact, as if you’d never been gone at all.

You suddenly have the urge to scream. Instead, you try to squirm out of his tight hold, to no avail. You never could get out of his arms, unless he wanted you to; you huff, feeling a strange mixture of fear and annoyance bubbling up inside you.

“I’m serious,” you say, though you know your voice is nowhere near as stern as you’d like it to be. “I’m leaving. Don’t--don’t make this harder than it has to be. It’s been two years and--”

At your words, you feel his hold around you tighten to the point of pain. Your breath feels constricted as his arm wraps tightly around your waist, possessive and pinching.

He leans in close, his grin replaced with an equally familiar sneer.

“I’m being real, real forgiving here (Y/N). You didn’t leave me. You’ve been studying abroad for 2 years. I’ve missed you so, so damn much. But now you’re back, and moving in with me.”

“My--my friend’s waiting for me at the hotel--” you choke out, voice tight with fear.

You hear the phone snapping before you see Keigo tossing it on the ground. He grinds the screen down with his boot, glass crunching, before tossing the ruined device in his jacket pocket.

”Nah,” he says, leading you away with his arm still compressed around you. “No one’s waiting for you but me.”

#yandere hawks #yandere keigo takami #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere bnha #afterwitch writes

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stevenbasic · 4 years ago

Text

“Hi Dr J, I’m glad we finally get to chat…”

Holy shit.

——

Earlier that day, I’d been told at the front desk that there was a lady from Evolution Pharmaceuticals on the line, and that she’d like to speak with me. Aubrey had always been good about screening out the sales pitches, the irate patients, the people with whom I really never needed to actually talk. So that she was pulling me aside for this call told me that this one might be something I should probably take...

But - ugh. No. I didn’t want to. This had been a long day, a long week so far - and it was only Tuesday! God, the past few months had been more and more exhausting, humiliating and emasculating with each passing hour. And the more I learned, the more it seemed that this company was at the heart of my troubles. Yes, it offered the opportunities of great financial rewards for the practice with this clinical study trial in which we were going to be participating. Since Jeanette, my previous Office Manager, had left, the mismanagement of the business had us in dire straits. Without the money from Evolution’s study and the “Lean In” grant from the women’s advancement group, I’m not sure we’d still be afloat. So, yeah, maybe I should have taken the call.

“I’ll call them later,” I told Aubrey, and grabbed the films I needed for my next patient.

That had been three hours ago, before my little hallway meeting with Melissa. Since then Gianna - some woman who’d wanted to speak to me about the trial - had called two more times. Left messages. Really wanted just fifteen minutes of my afternoon. Needed to speak with me. I refused each call.

Finally done with patients, sitting in my office at the end of the day as darkness crept in from outside, I sighed as Brittni from the desk buzzed me. She said that Gianna was on the line again. “Can I transfer her?”

“No,” I replied on the intercom, noticing that a little green light had blinked to life on the camera I had clipped to my monitor. I hadn’t seen it before, this light. In fact...when did I get a camera on this computer?

“Tell her I'll call tomorrow...” I finished.

I had set back to finishing some patient notes on my desktop when, suddenly, my screen flashed to black. For a quick moment I thought - oh no, a crash - but then a new, unfamiliar window appeared, and my mouse pointer began moving on its own accord. What the…? The window went full screen and next thing I knew I was in a video chat with-

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were avoiding my calls…” the woman onscreen spoke, laughing casually as she tossed her hair...

“oh, uh…” I was immediately agape. This was who’d been trying to call me all day??

“Anyway...Hi Dr J, I’m glad we finally get to chat…”

Holy shit. This girl was gorgeous. Look at those tits.

As I stared, still shell-shocked and speechless from having my computer hijacked out from under me by a bosomy corporate careerist, she went on to introduce herself as Gianna Albertini, from the clinical trials department at Evolution Pharmaceuticals. She explained how excited she and her team was to get the study off the ground at the practice. Things had been fast tracked at the FDA, they were just waiting for some rubber stamps, and everything looked very promising for their product. She apologized for not being able to meet in person, at least for a while. “I’m on some new retroviral treatment, and they have me quarantined at home,” she explained with surprising nonchalance, “yadda yadda yadda…”

Finally, after a good several minutes of watching her talk - and she held my attention easily, her rack possibly rivaling Melissa’s - she let me get a word in edgewise. I was still confused by how in one moment I was working on my patient charts, and then in the next I was in a video chat. “H-how did you…?”

“Sorry,” Gianna laughed, casually waving away any privacy concerns I was currently about to voice, “I had to remote in, take over your desktop. I really needed to speak with you.” Beyond the blatant intrusions tactics she was obviously willing to employ, there was something in this woman’s eyes, her demeanor, that was making me more and more concerned as the conversation - such as it was - continued. She may have been acting relaxed and friendly, decidedly informal, but there was a seriousness just below the surface that even I could see, even through the screen, and even in the face of those enormous tits. “Plus, maybe it’s actually better we do it this way, rather than on the phone,” she said, as she sat up nice and straight, “So we can see one another’s...smiling faces.”

Gahh...

As she got down to brass tacks, this young woman went on to describe to me some of the details of the new wings in our building into which the office would be expanding, how much more space we and Evolution be acquiring to fulfill the needs of the trial, and when it would all be ready. “Construction is ultra-fast tracked,” she said, “should be done within a few weeks.”

Weeks?? I marveled, silently incredulous. I’d seen the plans; it was a huge project. I’d figured months, if it ever really got done at all. But, the teams did seem motivated, and there were a lot of them, working day-in and day-out, all through the night. Maybe, perhaps? Could they pull it off in weeks?

We also talked about the structure of the trial, what it would involve day-to-day, and the long-term forecast. Evolution seemed ready to set up permanent shop with a clinic in the building, by taking over much of the lease of the new space, with the study just the first step in the door.

“You’ll be listed as the lead investigator,” Gianna explained, continuing on to detail the ins-and-outs of the trial, “but don’t worry. We’ll have plenty of people in place. You really won’t have to do too much, or deal with anyone at the main office. You’ll be reporting just to me...”

“r-reporting to you?” I asked, trying to ignore the impressive bosom which filled the screen, cowed me. That had taken me back a bit...'reporting to her'? I had noticed something in this young woman’s tone, through our chat, that led me to believe that she and I possibly had different views as to the, uh, hierarchy of this whole thing. I was the doctor around this place, and had gotten used to expecting a little respect, being top of the food chain. She, on the other hand, maybe had other ideas.

“That's right,” she said, “we’ll do these chats once a week, more if I feel like we need it. I’ll expect a report from you every day, but again don’t worry. It’s basically something you just have to sign, the girls will do it all. Our other providers will be handling most of the work with the patients in the study, entering data, keeping the FDA happy, blah blah blah. Maybe we’ll ask you to go in and talk to, examine a few of the subjects, just to keep things interesting for you.”

If I hadn’t felt totally emasculated and marginalized, my authority crippled by the horde of women who’d apparently taken over my practice recently, this was the clincher. It would appear that for this study I was going to be not much more than a coddled figurehead, a token man of straw, expected to satisfy the whims of some half-rate pharm company and this woman, at her beck and call. No way!

“I’m going to have to insist on directing care for, uh, the trial subjects,” I asserted, finally getting a moment to exert my will, “they will, technically, be my patients.”

“Oh, of course!” Gianna replied, smiling and throwing her hair over her shoulder, “Allowing for some oversight from the other providers we’ll have in place, you’ll have lots of medical-decision-making to keep yourself busy!”

What did she mean, ‘oversight’?

“They’ll be different than your usual patients, the subjects that we’ll be bringing in for the study, but I think you’ll like them,” she continued, trying to reassure me, “maybe a younger crowd, and of course all female. But in general all you’ll have to do is sit back and watch the money coming in.” She sat, looked into the screen for a moment, in thought. “Though I guess we have some people there handling that for you, too, hm?”

That gave me pause, made me rethink the litany of arguments that were beginning to boil up in my throat. I’d seen some of the paperwork, quickly, as it had moved past my desk for my signatures. It involved a lot of money for the practice. Like, a lot of money. I thought of my bills, my expenses, what I still somehow owed on my student loans. If Sheryl wasn’t going to be there to provide for me, help me pay these things…

If any of it remained, there was obviously some pride I was going to need to swallow.

“S-speaking of money,” I began, “what's my compensation going to look like?“

Something about my question, something about how I was holding myself, made Gianna smile again and then sigh, a sigh that told me she knew something I didn’t, I couldn’t help but think. With that she leaned in, her eyes locked on mine through the camera, and a shiver went up my spine. “Oh don’t worry, Dr. J,” she spoke, “you’ll be well taken care of...“

===================================

Muchos Gracias to long-time friend, supporter of the story and behind-the-scenes ninja Antares for helping me assemble these clips.

Newer posts and other goodies at my Patreon

#growing into the job

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themurphyzone · 3 years ago

Text

BatB AU: ‘Til the Last Petal Falls Ch 9

AN: So this chapter’s gonna be an interlude from the castle. This chapter focuses mainly on the tavern scene when the villagers cheer Gaston up after his failed proposal.

So this chapter takes place a few hours after Snowball’s ruined proposal, so we’re backtracking a little in terms of timeline.

Some language in this, but it’s Slappy and we all know she’d say fuck if they’d allow her too.

Ch 9: The Feast

As with all sleepy little villages with not much going for it, aside from the humbling presence of the oh so benevolent and majestic presence of Prince Snowball, gossip was rampant among those who didn’t have anything better to do with their time.

Slappy Squirrel didn’t care about gossip. People in this town had way too much to say and so little of actual importance at the same time. She operated strictly on a ‘leave me alone and I’ll leave you alone’ mantra.

And she especially didn’t care for that annoying Candie Chipmunk gossiping to her posse while casually dropping a piece of trash into Slappy’s garbage can.

Again.

“-he’s crazy! That mouse needs to be brought back to reality, I’m telling you. Our gracious prince could straighten him out. It’s generous of him to take the time to help out, but Pinky is too ungrateful to realize it,” Candie whined in her high-pitched, grating voice. The other women in her group nodded their agreement.

Slappy snatched up the broom she always stashed by the door for occasions like these. Throwing the door wide open with a resounding thud, she hurled the broom at the group, who shrieked and scattered like roaches.

“Get off my property if ya know what’s good for ya!” Slappy shouted at the women’s fleeing backs. “Take your trash too! And I ain’t talking about the can!”

The neighbors were the worst in this village. Always trying to idly chit-chat while she just wanted to run her errands as quickly as possible and get out so she didn’t have to deal with anyone else for the rest of the days and always dropping their trash onto her property.

But the most annoying thing was their blind worship of Prince Snowball, who’d somehow endeared himself as a savior to this backwater village.

Snowball did this, Snowball’s gonna make an announcement, yadda yadda yadda.

He was just an arrogant blowhard who thought he was better than the rest of them because he was royalty. Slappy had seen enough of his ilk in her lifetime, and though Snowball was ambitious, he lacked the same influence and power King Salazar had when he invaded Warnerstock.

Hopefully, it would stay that way.

The only decent neighbor was Pinky, who was always willing to lend a helping hand, perhaps a little too willing at times. But more importantly, he helped out with Skippy, especially when Slappy found herself exhausted from trying to keep up with his energetic nature. Maybe Skippy should’ve had playmates his age, but he seemed to prefer hanging out with Pinky than playing with the other village children.

Skippy was often prone to tears, and the other children loved goading him into crying. Though Slappy had no qualms about beating those little brats upside the head, Skippy was very much against it.

Somehow he’d convinced himself that if she retaliated, he’d be taken away forever and have to go live in an orphanage where he’d be forced to eat creamed spinach and inedible gruel for the rest of his life.

Though she was admittedly more miffed that he thought creamed spinach was a punishment, being forcibly separated was a very real concern for both of them.

Skippy was a cheeky rascal, but she couldn’t imagine living in this tree without him.

A cold wind blew, and her joints started to ache with the chill. It was starting to grow dark with a thick cloud cover. Tiny flakes of snow were already starting to fall.

An early winter this year. It would be murder on her back.

Her trusty broom was out of reach, and she didn’t feel like retrieving it.

“Skippy!” she shouted. “I had to throw my broom at some yahoos and I need you to get it for me! I’m too old to get it myself!”

True to his name, Skippy hopped down the stairs. “So you’re too old to pick up a broom but you can wield a hundred ton mallet just fine?” he asked.

Slappy shrugged. “I have elder privileges. Someday you’ll be taking advantage of those too.”

“Spew! I don’t wanna get old yet!” Skippy spat, sticking out his tongue in disgust.

“Well too bad, Peter Pan. Now hurry up and get my broom before we become icicles,” Slappy said, nudging him onto the doorstep.

A shiver traveled through Skippy’s body, his fur poofing out until he looked like a large brown cotton ball. He clutched his fluffy tail like a makeshift scarf and dashed over to the fence, picked up the broom, and ran back in record time.

Slappy shut the door behind him as he ran back inside, teeth chattering all the while. He quickly put the broom back in its corner and headed straight to the fireplace to warm up.

Hopefully, no more annoying neighbors now that it was snowing. Dusting off her hands with satisfaction, Slappy headed towards the small kitchen to start dinner.

She opened the cupboards to see what they had, only to come up with several cans of creamed spinach, baby carrots, and some moldy thing in the back which might’ve been a sandwich once. A spider crawled along a cobweb on the side.

That was everything? She could’ve sworn they had more than this.

Then again, she didn’t remember when she last went to the market. All the best stuff was sold early in the morning, and one had to jump out of bed as soon as the rooster crowed so they’d have a chance of getting the best cuts of meat or the freshest dairy.

For most of the village, it was no issue.

But for Slappy, all she wanted to do was stuff a stick of dynamite down the rooster’s throat so she could get some shuteye.

She usually sent Skippy out with a grocery list and enough money, figuring she should probably try to be a responsible guardian and let Skippy have some degree of independence.

Mostly she just wanted to stay in bed for a while longer, because Skippy was a fuzzball of energy in the morning.

They had the huge basket of acorns PInky had delivered earlier, but while they were delicious, they didn’t equal a full meal.

So they didn’t have anything. Maybe they could head over to Pinky’s house? It was all the way across town, but Pinky wasn’t a half-bad cook. Give him any recipe with cheese and he could whip out a dish so tasty it would make even the snootiest French chefs jealous.

Unfortunately, the weather wasn’t cooperating tonight. So that was out.

“So what’s for dinner, Aunt Slappy?” Skippy asked, rocking back and forth on his toes.

“Creamed spinach with a side of baby carrots and acorns,” Slappy said. She pulled the cans out of the cupboard and set them on the counter. “This is what I get for not stocking up on groceries.”

“Awww,” Skippy wrinkled his nose. “Do we have to?”

Slappy shrugged as she opened the can and plopped the creamed spinach on a plate. Skippy plugged his nose and recoiled at the wet sock odor that emitted from the soggy vegetables. “Have it your way, kiddo. All veggies for you, veggies and your share of acorns for me.”

“WHAT?” Skippy shrieked, his voice cracking even though he was nowhere near puberty yet. “That’s…that’s cruel and unusual punishment, Aunt Slappy! You’re violating my rights as a citizen! And also committing a war crime!”

Kids. So dramatic these days.

“You’re in France, Skippy. You don’t have any rights, even if you were a citizen,” Slappy replied.

“Then I’ll just have to get some!” Skippy shouted. “Vive la revolution!”

To prove his point, he crunched a mouthful of acorns, proving once and for all that he was an unscrupulous rebel against the tyrannical regime that denied him the pleasant crunch of acorns.

Before Slappy could open the sack of baby carrots, there was a harsh knock on the door.

“Open up, in the name of Prince Snowball!” a voice rasped.

“And speaking of violating rights…” Slappy sighed. Was a little privacy too much to ask? Damn nosy villagers. “Alright Skip Valskip, go tell ‘em to buzz off.”

“Okay, Aunt Slappy!” Skippy cheerfully bounced towards the door. From the kitchen, she listened to the old oak door creak open. “Aunt Slappy says to buzz off!”

Kiddo, you’re never gonna scare ‘em off that way, Slappy thought. She really needed to teach him the proper way to respond to unwanted visitors.

Whoever was at the door cleared their throat pompously.

“I have been ordered by our prince to personally escort your aunt to the local tavern for our grand feast tonight. He has an important announcement and requires at least one representative from every household to be in attendance. Move aside, kid. Where is she?”

Slappy slammed the sack of carrots onto the counter. That voice belonged to Thaddeus Plotz, a squat old man with an annoying penchant for cozying up to anyone with a little bit of power. He seemed to think of himself as Snowball’s right hand man, though Snowball found it convenient to push any undesirable or tedious tasks onto him.

While Skippy could handle someone like Candie just fine on his own, he wasn’t ready to get rid of persistent folk like Plotz yet. She’d have to step in and show him how it was done.

She marched over to the front door, took up her broom, and walloped Plotz on top of his balding head. He swayed in place, tongue sticking out in a goofy manner.

“That’s how ya do it, Skippy,” Slappy said as she handed the broom over to him. “Now you try it.”

Skippy gripped the broom by its handle, looking up at her with those big, adoring eyes.

“Alright, cut the cute and focus,” Slappy said, and Skippy thankfully turned to face Plotz, who was still out of it. She always had this weird, mushy feeling when Skippy looked at her like that. “Spread your feet. Hands further apart on the handle. Firm grip, rear back, now smack him like a pinata!”

Skippy walloped Plotz in the stomach, and the man was knocked flat on his back, wheezing for breath.

The blow wasn’t nearly as painful as it would be if Slappy had delivered it, but for a first-timer, it was pretty decent.

“Not bad,” Slappy remarked, and Skippy grinned back.

She was about to shut the door when Plotz’s foot caught in the frame before it could close completely.

“Wait…there’s free food…plenty of venison and wild boar sausage…” Plotz mumbled.

He just wouldn’t give up, would he? Slappy didn’t care if she cut his damn foot off while she closed the door, but Skippy tugged at her elbow insistently.

“Aunt Slappy, there’s free food! Sausages!” Skippy begged, and she could practically see him salivating at the promise of tastier food. “Please can we go?”

“And deal with his royal pain in the ass? I don’t think so.” Slappy folded her arms, belatedly realizing that semi-responsible guardians probably shouldn’t swear in front of their charges. “Damn it. Don’t repeat that word, Skippy.”

Skippy just turned on the big, watery eyes.

“The sad puppy look won’t work on me, kid,” Slappy said. “Been around the block too many times to fall for that trick.”

And then the little brat’s mouth quivered.

Slappy’s eye twitched. She and her peers in her old troupe used to pull the sad trick all the time on unsuspecting people, who were never able to resist, especially if Bugs Bunny was involved. Something about the ‘poor wittle wabbit’ look caused everyone to surrender their coin purses and food immediately.

She wasn’t used to being on the receiving end though.

A tear threatened to slip out of Skippy’s eye.

“GAH! Okay, we’ll go to the feast, just quit with those tears already and clean yourself up!” Slappy shouted, unable to take it much longer. She hoped Bugs and Skippy never teamed up, or they could rob the entire country of France with that scam, heck, they’d rob all of Europe and get away with it.

“Yay!” Skippy cheered. His smile instantly returned, and he bounced upstairs to grab his winter attire.

“This doesn’t get you out of eating your veggies!” Slappy shouted up at him as she snatched up a purple scarf and gloves from the nearby dresser.

As she wrapped the scarf around her neck, Plotz sat up on her doorstep, grimacing in pain as he tried to get back to his feet.

“I can’t believe you’re letting a child go into a tavern of all places!” Plotz scolded. “What kind of parent are you?”

“Good thing I’m an aunt then,” Slappy replied. “And I ain’t letting my kid starve at home when there’s a feast in town and I don’t have to pay for nothin’.”

“People are gonna talk,” Plotz warned her.

So let them talk. She didn’t care.

Skippy came running downstairs with a green scarf around his neck and a pair of cream earmuffs on his head.

“Ready, Aunt Slappy!” he exclaimed, trying to hide the tell-tale sign of acorn crumbs along his mouth that he’d somehow snuck behind her back.

Well, at least she could make the prince foot the bill for Skippy’s appetite.

o-o-o-o-o

Slappy immediately regretted coming to the tavern as soon as she heard the raucous noise and saw the candlelight. What she wouldn’t give for a little peace and quiet right now.

Plotz puffed out his chest and marched inside ahead of them, trying to appear more important than he actually was to the tavern’s occupants.

Slappy had never been inside the tavern before. Too noisy and crowded for her liking.

She’d expected the rougher men of town to come and arm wrestle, gamble, and drink until their livers exploded.

But surprisingly, there was none of that roughness one might associate with a rustic, earthy tavern in a rural town. Some of the men brought their wives, who formed their own cliques in the corners as they shared the latest gossip.

Everyone was dressed in their church clothing in an effort to appear more sophisticated to their prince than they actually were.

The tavern’s interior decoration was strange too. A bearskin rug was on the floor by the fireplace, the once mighty creature whose fur was now trampled and caked with mud. Countless antlers, horns, and tusks lined the walls, along with the heads of wild beasts that had fallen victim to Prince Snowball’s cunning mind.

Skippy backed away from a taxidermied doe.

“Bumbie’s mom…” he whispered, clutching Slappy’s tail like a lifeline.

The greatest mistake of her life was taking him to see that dang stage play of Bumbie. She thought he was old enough to handle it, but he’d been so emotionally distraught at the infamous death that any reminder was enough to send him into hysterics.

Slappy quickly backed away, using her tail to cover Skippy’s eyes until the taxidermied doe was no longer in view. Thankfully, it was placed in a corner and not out in the open.

“Beat it,” Slappy snapped at some women who were watching Skippy with barely restrained looks of pity for him and disgust at Slappy for bringing him along in the first place. Slowly, she lifted her tail from Skippy’s face. His eyes were still wet and a bit red, and he was trying to wipe them off on his scarf.

She was not about to handle a snot-covered scarf, so she quickly grabbed a strangely fancy napkin with a golden S embroidered in the corner and tossed it to Skippy.

“Use the napkin,” she said, and Skippy complied. Five agonizing minutes of sniffling and tears later, and he was back to normal. His eyes were still a bit on the puffy side though.

“Thanks, Aunt Slappy,” Skippy murmured, wiping the last of his tears away with the napkin.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t mention it.” Slappy couldn’t disguise her relieved sigh. If the villagers had such a huge problem with the way she was taking care of Skippy, they needed to take it up with her and not judge Skippy for it.

The barrel-like tables were all stacked along the wall, replaced by a long, elegant table with enough food to feed a horse for the next decade. Venison, wild boar sausages, and roast pheasant from Snowball’s earlier hunt were the main attractions, each of them upon silver platters with beds of lettuce and rice underneath. The sauces were a rich, creamy brown, sprinkled with all sorts of exotic spices.

Smaller side dishes of potatoes, cheeses, soups, and several kinds of autumn vegetables surrounded the large meat-based dishes. Several plates were loaded to the brim with acorn squash, one of the few vegetables Skippy didn’t protest at eating.

She wasn’t going to tell him that acorn squash didn’t actually contain acorns.

Quickly, she swiped two of the acorn squash dishes and stored them into her hammerspace. It’s not like anyone would miss them. There was plenty to go around.

Exactly how much of the town’s food supply was for this extravagant feast alone?

It seemed like they were using up all the meat and the season’s harvest in one night. Her nose wrinkled in disgust at the amount of food they were going to waste.

Not to mention the expensive wines and beers that littered the table. Even the cutlery was fancy.

That silver set of cutlery looked good, and she could use more forks anyway. She tended to lose forks fast when she used them as projectiles.

So they joined the acorn squash in her hammerspace.

She elected to just steal the side dishes that nobody else really cared about, since all the attention was on what their benevolent and generous prince brought in. No sense in drawing attention to themselves.

Just here for the food and not to socialize.

“Skippy, there’s gonna be a lot of alcohol here, and I ain’t dealing with any hangovers, so don’t drink anything unless I give you the okay, capiche?” Slappy said.

“Capiche,” Skippy agreed, and he threw the tear-stained napkin onto one of the chairs.

She felt everyone’s eyes on her and Skippy as she led him up to the seats at the bar. Behind the counter, the bartender filled up a keg of beer for a man who was clearly a regular to the tavern.

She was an old maid in their traditional eyes, one who had no business raising an impressionable child without a father. Well, it wasn’t like Skippy had anywhere else to go. And Skippy never acted like he needed a father in his life, so it was a moot topic.

Maybe Snowball should’ve looked into setting up some sorta childcare service if he didn’t want kids there.

“Oi, you can’t just bring him up here!” the bartender protested. “We have standards at this tavern!”

“Low ones, if you consider that type of beer quality, Dick,” Slappy said, taking a seat at the counter. “Ever been to Bavaria? Now those guys, they brewed the best stuff. Drank Yosemite Sam under the table there. Always talks a big game, but can’t hold his liquor for nothin’.”

Dick’s face turned red as the men around them started to snicker. “For the last time, my name is Richard!” he yelled. “Quit laughing, Tom! That goes double for you, Stanley!”

Tom wouldn’t stop beating the table with his fist, while Stanley laughed into his beer.

“So ya got any apple juice for the kid or what?” Slappy asked.

Dick grudgingly complied, not wanting a drunk kid on his conscience or reputation. He filled several glasses with freshly squeezed apple juice and left them alone, muttering about how he didn’t become a bartender just to wind up serving apple juice to some snot-nosed brat.

Slappy tasted the apple juice. Sweet, but no bitter tinge of alcohol. She nodded to Skippy, who took his cue and happily slurped away at his own glass.

“So when are we getting some grub?” Skippy asked. “I’m so hungry I could eat Pharfignewton!”

Dick picked up a rag and started cleaning out a dirty cup. “Feast don’t start ‘til the prince says so. He was supposed to begin the dinner half an hour ago, but since the incident, well…”

He gestured towards the fireplace, where Plotz was trying to plead with the sulking prince to come and begin the festivities.

“Did he get cut off from his wealth or something?” Slappy asked. Served him right if he did.

Dick only tugged at his collar, refusing to say anymore. But a red-faced man on a nearby barstool laughed heartily, slamming his beer mug down with a resounding thud.

“Pinky threw him into the mud! Turned his proposal down flat!” the man chortled. “Funniest thing I’ve seen the village idiot do since he moved here!”

Pinky, of all people, threw somebody into the mud? And not just anybody, but Prince Snowball himself?

Now that was comedy if she ever heard one! A laugh escaped her, but she quickly turned it into a hacking cough and disguised it with a sip of apple juice.

Pinky had sometimes come to her house for longer visits if he needed an escape from Snowball for a few hours. Though she offered to clobber the jerk multiple times, Pinky always begged her not to, for fear of retaliation.

All it would take was a few words from Prince Snowball, and Skippy would be taken away before she could blink.

“Quiet, Jacque!” one of the women hissed, cuffing the laughing, drunken man on the head. He instantly spat out his beer, hitting his throat with his fist as he choked. “How dare you laugh at our prince! He was just trying to provide Pinky with a better life!”

Sure, being a puppet queen in some drafty castle was better than living in a rustic village.

“Ow, watch where you’re aiming, woman!” Jacque snarled. “I ain’t wastin’ good be-”

He trailed off mid-sentence, once he realized he was at eye level with the woman’s ample bosom.

Slappy quickly dragged her nephew out of the barstool and seated him at the long table instead, where he couldn’t see or hear Jacque and the woman’s exchange. Skippy was too young for that stuff right now.

She grabbed two plates and started loading them up with food. Around her, everyone muttered about the horrible example she was setting for Skippy with this breach in social custom. If the prince was supposed to take the first bite, then he should’ve done so already instead of sulking like a teenage girl who got dumped by her boyfriend.

Though she heaped on some sausages and strips of pheasant for both of them, she skipped the venison for both of them. No sense in making Skippy cry over cannibalizing Bumbie’s mom. She also included potatoes and acorn squash on both their plates, quickly swiping the large container of potatoes for her hammerspace.

Potatoes kept for a long time. They could survive off this stuff for the next month if they rationed it properly.

“Here. The sooner we eat, the sooner we can leave,” Slappy said, setting the loaded plate in front of Skippy.

Skippy shoved an entire sausage in his mouth, his large cheeks bulging out even more. “Yrethbesausla!” he exclaimed, spraying chunks onto the table.

Slappy grimaced and shoveled a forkful of potato into her mouth. “Spew,” she said, borrowing her nephew’s catchphrase since she had no other words to describe how gross that was.

She glanced at the corner, where Plotz was still having trouble getting Snowball to join in on the fun.

“Your Excellency, if I may, perhaps you should address your subjects? Everyone’s waiting to hang on your every word,” Plotz suggested.

“So let the rabble wait,” Snowball sighed. “How can I possibly face them when he humiliated me?”

“Oh, not to worry, your Grace,” Plotz rubbed his hands together nervously, like the simpering idiot he was. “They all admire you greatly! Your benevolence and philanthropist acts have improved this village since the moment you came. I’m sure they can overlook this one…incident. And if not…”

“Who does he think he is? That mouse has tangled with the wrong prince!” Snowball grumbled. “I was dismissed and rejected, treated like nothing more than an insect underfoot!”

“Look who’s talkin’,” Slappy muttered.

The ever-groveling Plotz offered Snowball a small thimble of wine. “More wine? We got hold of a variety from the vineyards of southern Italy for this momentous day. Cost a pretty penny, but-”

Snowball snatched the thimble up and threw it into the fire, uncaring of how much scraping it took to purchase even one bottle.

“It won’t help,” he sighed. “I’m disgraced.”

“Never, your Majesty!” Plotz swiveled Snowball’s throne around to face the villagers, to both Snowball and everyone else’s surprise. “You just need to pull yourself together!”

The crowd cheered Snowball’s name, though he showed no reaction to their praise. His eyes scanned the crowd, his brows raising in surprise when he spotted Slappy.

“What are you doing here?” he spat.

“Well, as much as it disturbs me to see you-” Slappy ignored the scandalized murmurs behind her “-you’re the one who wanted a representative from every household. And who am I to turn down free food?”

“You brought your child here.” Snowball said flatly.

Slappy shrugged. “He was hungry.”

Skippy paid the conversation no mind and continued to shovel food down his throat at an alarming rate. At this rate, he was gonna eat all the food, their platters, and the entire table.

“Ugh,” Snowball pinched the bridge of his nose. “No table manners whatsoever.”

She was aware of his disdain for her, mostly because of her association with Pinky. And also how he could never get a penny out of her when his tax collectors came around.

He could’ve tossed them out and nobody would’ve batted an eye.

Plotz coughed loudly, and Snowball scowled at him for interrupted whatever train of thought he had going on. “Never mind them, your Highness,” he said. “Just take a look around! Everyone wishes they could have your money and intellect! Isn’t that right, Tom? What about you, Dick?”

“I told you, it’s Richard! Call me Dick one more time and I will hang your entrails in the forest for the crows!” Dick bellowed, and Plotz gave him a nervous smile as he backed away. Snowball just leaned on his elbow, thoroughly unimpressed. Then Dick realized he was addressing and tugged at his collar, a bead of sweat trickling down his face. “But our gracious prince can call me whatever he likes!”

Slappy gagged on a strip of pheasant. This sucking up was ruining her appetite.

“Musicians, some accompaniment if you will,” Plotz said, pulling a conductor’s wand out from his vest. He glanced over his shoulder, like he was afraid Dick was going to leap over the counter and murder him at any moment. “Perhaps this would be better explained through song.”

Slappy nearly choked on her pheasant.

If there was one thing she hated about village life, it was the townsfolk’s tendency to burst into song at random. Usually to sing Snowball’s praise or gossip about Pinky’s oddities.

Didn’t they have anything better to sing about? Or better yet, not sing so she could sleep without being disturbed?

“Never signed up for a show along with my dinner,” Slappy muttered. “Stop that, Skippy.”

Skippy’s head and tail bobbed to the accordion and fiddle’s melody. “But it’s catchy, Aunt Slappy!”

And even worse was Plotz prancing around the room without any dignity.

“No one rules like Snowball,

Did well in school as Snowball,

No one wears their crown upon their brow like Snowball!”

Slappy covered her ears as Candie joined in, though it did nothing to block out her shrill, annoying voice.

“For there’s no one nearly as wealthy,

Perfect, a pure paragon!”

Without asking him, Plotz hoisted Snowball into the air for everyone to admire. Snowball snapped his fingers and held out his hand, and Stanley handed him a thick plank of wood, which he brought down on Plotz’s head.

Snowball dropped to the table below, landing in a kneeling position. As he rose to his feet, a woman draped a fur-lined red cloak around him and handed him a golden scepter.

“No one’s been like Snowball,

A kingpin like Snowball!

No one’s got their head screwed on quite like Snowball’s!”

Snowball brought his scepter down on the fingers of a barmaid who tried to stroke his fur. Then he climbed up a stack of crates so he could survey the entire tavern proudly and lord his position over the unfortunate bourgeoisie.

Slappy noisily slurped her apple juice just to spite him.

“As a specimen, yes, I’m intimidating!” Snowball proclaimed. His sulky demeanor had vanished, replaced by his usual arrogance once more. He slammed his scepter against the crates, and the villagers hastily dropped to their knees out of blind respect for their prince.

“All hail to our Prince Snowball!” they chorused.

“Prince Snowball is the best and the rest are all drips!” Plotz shouted, as he tried to climb up the crates himself to take his self-proclaimed position as Snowball’s number one lapdog. He misjudged his weight and accidentally opened up a crate as he scrambled onto it, wasting several bottles of expensive wine as they broke on the ground, the red liquid splashing onto the hands of the nearest men.

The crowd all glared up at Plotz, angered by the loss of their precious alcohol. Plotz paled and tried to run away, but several of the village’s burliest men caught him. They laughed and cracked their knuckles, ready to beat him up for revenge.

“Gentlemen, we are not uncivilized brutes!” Snowball shouted in disapproval. “Show some decorum!”

Plotz howled in pain as one of the men chomped down on his ankle. Then they all bowed to Snowball once more, while Plotz writhed on the ground.

“No one stops bar fights like Snowball,

Shows their might like Snowball,

For there’s no one as canny or clever!”

Snowball smirked and tapped his forehead. “As you can see, I have neurons to spare! For example, I’m especially good at extrapolating!”

One of the teachers at the local schoolhouse handed Snowball a slate with a complicated equation nobody else could possibly hope to understand. Snowball barely glanced at it before tossing the slate back at the teacher.

“X equals ten,” Snowball said dismissively. “Child’s play.”

“A hundred points for Snowball!” the teacher cheered, to the crowd’s delight.

“When I was a lad, I read four dozen books every morning to help me become smart.

And now that I’m grown I read five dozen books, so my intellect is now off the charts!”

Snowball raised his arms, and everyone whistled and clapped in appreciation.

“No one thinks up pointless refrains like Snowball,” Slappy sighed. She’d eaten her fill. Unfortunately, Skippy was on his fourth plate and wasn’t stopping anytime soon.

Where was this kid tucking away all that food? Seemed like she was living with a bottomless pit that bore a passing resemblance to a young squirrel.

Someone handed Snowball a small bow and arrow, and Snowball pulled the string taut, releasing the arrow straight into a barrel of beer, where it lodged into the slats and weakened the exterior enough that the liquid inside poured out through several holes. Several of the men stuck their mugs into the waterfalls of beer, toasting Snowball before guzzling away.

She didn’t envy whoever had to clean that mess up.

“No one shoots like Snowball,

Makes those beauts like Snowball,

No one tromps around in expensive riding boots like Snowball’s!”

Snowball stood on a cushion, which Stanley lifted high into the air for all to admire.

“I use antlers in all of my decorating!”

Snowball raised his scepter, posing exactly like the giant portrait behind him which depicted him in all his royal finery.

Slappy would never understand his tastes in decoration though. The various horns and antlers he’d collected from fallen wild beasts were extremely tacky and tasteless.

“All hail to our prince, Snowball!”

The music concluded to raucous cheers for Snowball’s name, which the hamster soaked up with a proud smirk.

“My loyal subjects, I have kept you waiting long enough!” Snowball declared. “Let us partake in the fruits of my labor on this fine winter’s ni-”

The doors suddenly flew open, a cold wind cutting through the warmth of the tavern. The women wrapped their shawls around themselves and shivered, while the men pulled their beer mugs away.

“Will somebody shut those doors?” Snowball bellowed.

Before anyone could obey his command, a disheveled mouse rushed in, his entire body quaking with cold.

“Help!” the mouse cried, clutching his tail close to his body. “Won’t somebody help me?”

Jack?

Slappy stood up to get a better look, her joints protesting from the sudden movement. Skippy dropped his fork in surprise, his attention finally pulled away from his food.

What was Pinky’s father doing here? Pinky had said his father would be away for two weeks for the fair.

Pinky couldn’t shut up about how Jack would win the blue ribbon for sure.

Jack’s clothes were dirty, his mustache and fur caked with snow. But it was the wild, panicked look in his eyes that made her assume the worst.

Maybe he was robbed by bandits or highwaymen along the way? It seemed the most likely explanation for his unkempt appearance.

The occupants of the tavern glared at Jack, unhappy at having their joyous night interrupted.

Jack dropped to his knees in front of Snowball, his hands clasped in a desperate plea. “My prince, I need your help! He’s got Pinky locked in a dungeon! We have to hurry and rescue him! Please, we mustn’t waste any time!”

There were many disgruntled murmurs. Nobody was willing to leave the warm tavern, especially when the feast hadn’t begun yet.

Snowball raised one authoritative hand, commanding everyone to be quiet. “You’re incoherent, Jack. Who’s got Pinky locked in a dungeon?” he said, just to goad Jack further.

“A beast!” Jack cried. “A horrible, monstrous beast!”

The silent crowd immediately burst into laughter. Not even Snowball could hide his own smirk.

Skippy frowned, looking more confused than anything.

“Probably just got attacked by a wild animal,” Slappy said to assure him. “At least he escaped. Shame about the fair though.”

Jack trembled at the laughter at his expense.

“Was it a big beast?” Stanley asked.

“Well, he was smaller than you lot, but-”

“With a long, ugly snout?” Jacque called, sticking the lower half of his face into his mug to imitate a snout, much to everyone’s laughter. Dick clapped Jacque on the back, causing the mug to get stuck on his face.

Jack shook his head. “More like a pug nose, and-”

“With sharp, cruel fangs?” Tom pulled the corners of his mouth and bared his teeth comically.

“Yes, yes!” Jack cried. “And enormous twisted horns like the Devil himself! Please, Prince Snowball! I beg you to help me out!”

Snowball tapped his chin in thought. “Very well. Stanley. Help this old mouse out.”

Jack perked up instantly as Stanley picked him up by the tail. “You will? Oh, thank you!” Jack exclaimed gratefully as he dangled in the air. Then Stanley marched over to the door, twirling Jack like a lasso before finally tossing him into a snowbank outside and shutting the door.

“Crazy old Jack,” Dick muttered, rolling his eyes as he and Stanley took their seats at the table. “Have to admit, he’s always good for a laugh.”

There was a contemplative look in Snowball’s eyes at that. “Crazy old Jack…” he murmured, rubbing his chin in thought.

Skippy inched away from Dick, until he was halfway on Slappy’s chair. “Not hungry anymore,” he mumbled, eyeing Dick and Stanley fearfully.

Slappy had lost her appetite too.

Around them, everyone returned to their usual chatter about nothing like they hadn’t just tossed a helpless old mouse into the cold, dark night.

She didn’t care about being a paragon of virtue or a good role model, but that was a line even she wouldn’t cross.

And she didn’t want Skippy around these villagers for longer than he had to be.

“Get up, Skippy,” Slappy ordered. She wrapped her scarf around her neck and pulled on her gloves. “We’re leaving.”

Skippy didn’t protest, eagerly rushing out the door ahead of Slappy.

“Why the rush?” Snowball asked. “I haven’t made my announcement yet.”

Slappy glared at him. “Don’t care. People don’t know how to keep their yap shut around here anyway. And I’m taking one of these pheasants home for leftovers. Got a bottomless pit to feed.”

She ignored the indignant squawks as she snatched the platter off the table and stuffed the entire pheasant into her hammerspace on her way out the door.

“That’s enough,” Snowball said. Once again, everyone listened to him. “Don’t bother with her.”

“You’re really just gonna let her go when she disrespected you like that?” Candie demanded.

“I assure you, there shall be consequences in due time,” Snowball replied. “But for now, let us feast on this magnificent bounty.”

Slappy slammed the tavern door on the shouts that hailed Prince Snowball.

She had no doubt that if Snowball told the entire village to drown themselves in the ocean, they’d all do so without a second thought.

o-o-o-o-o

Slappy finally caught up with her nephew at the end of the street, who was bundling his scarf around a shivering Jack. He still had his winter coat on, so at least he wouldn’t freeze to death.

The old mouse had a death grip on Skippy’s fingers. “P-please help me, Skippy! My son is in d-danger! Achoo!”

Jack sneezed fiercely.

“Monsieur Jack! You gotta calm down!” Skippy said, and from his panicked eyes, he was very out of his element. “Aunt Slappy, help!”

“I swear I packed my smallest mallet here somewhere. Always calmed Tweety Bird down like a charm,” Slappy muttered, digging around her hammerspace. But she only came up with a broken hunting rifle. She tossed it aside.

She really had to get around to organizing her hammerspace.

“That’s not helping, Aunt Slappy!” Skippy protested.

Slappy held up her hands defensively. “Okay, okay, I won’t mallet him. But you better have a good suggestion, kid.”

“Take him back to Pinky cause he’s way better at calming people down than either of us are?” Skippy offered.

Pinky’s cottage was all the way across town, and Skippy was having trouble keeping his eyes open. All that food and the late hour made him extra sleepy.

Jack didn’t have enough strength to walk by himself, so Slappy took up the task of carrying him.

Why did it have an early winter this year? The cold wasn’t doing wonders for her joints. Skippy nearly walked straight into a snowdrift, but Slappy caught him by the tail and hauled him back.

“The b-beast has him…h-have to s-save him,” Jack moaned from the warmth of the scarf. “My fault…”

“Look, whatever animal attacked you ain’t here,” Slappy cut in.

“Carriage b-brought me back. Moved by itself. Creepy…creepy legs,” Jack mumbled.

There would be no breaking through Jack’s delirium until they brought down the fever.

The sooner they got him to the cottage, the sooner he could recover.

What would’ve been a ten minute walk from the center of town to the cottage was extended by an extra half hour. The ground was freezing over, and Slappy had to handle Jack with a level of care she wasn’t used to.

He was already sick, and he didn’t need a broken hip on top of that.

Skippy was practically clinging to her tail for warmth.

The oil lamps were far and few in between as they approached the stone bridge that marked the outskirts of town. The creek was steadily freezing over, and it was sure to be a thick sheet of ice by morning.

The wind nipped at her eyes and nose, but she pressed on. After what seemed an eternity, they reached the cottage at last.

The cottage was silent and dark. No candlelight in the window, nor smoke to hint that the fireplace was lit. The only movement was from a weather vane atop the house.

“Pinky?” Slappy bellowed, banging as hard as she could on the door to wake him up if he was still asleep. “Pinky, this is Slappy! Your father’s here too! He never made it to the fair!”

No answer.

“What’s taking so long?” Skippy yawned, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to keep himself awake.

Oh, to hell with this.

Slappy tried the handle, and the door swung open with an earsplitting creak.

“Damn it, Pinky. Lock your door before you go to sleep,” Slappy grumbled. Saved her the trouble of malleting the door open though.

Skippy pulled out an oil lamp from his hammerspace, lighting it up with a smooth flourish of a matchstick.

Pinky kept a meticulous cottage. Barely a spot of dust on the couch or tables. All the chairs were pushed in, and the dishes were all put away. The only thing that seemed out of place was a feather covered in dried mud.

But Pinky was nowhere to be found. His cozy little bed in the corner was empty.

“He’s gone,” Skippy murmured in shock.

“I noticed,” Slappy added.

Jack mumbled something incoherent in his sleep. Slappy tucked him into the little bed, where he could get some much needed rest.

Surely, Pinky couldn’t have abandoned…no, no, she quashed that idea at once. Pinky was an honest soul with a good heart, and he had a sense of duty to take care of his ailing father like no other.

He’d been so excited for his father to go to the fair and win the grand prize.

For Pinky to not be here…it made no sense.

“Aunt Slappy?” Skippy tugged on her arm in worry. “D’you think maybe…Pinky went to the meadow again? I keep telling him not to go by himself cause it’s dangerous! What if a hunter followed him home and shot him and dragged him away so we’ll never see him again?”

His voice rose into a wail.

She was starting to understand why some of these villagers were so deadset against fictional works.

Skippy was drawing way too many conclusions from Bumbie.

With a sigh, Slappy picked Skippy up and set him on the couch, then climbed up next to him. She pulled a hand-stitched quilt that had been draped over the back of the couch around them. Her tail curled around Skippy underneath the quilt, his head resting against the tip like a makeshift pillow.

“Pinky is a resilient little guy, Skippy,” Slappy said, trying to speak with a confidence that belied how she had no clue as to where Pinky could’ve gone either. Even if his father had been attacked by a wild animal, that still didn’t explain Pinky’s whereabouts. Unless he had a bad feeling and rushed off after his father. She wouldn’t put it past Pinky to be impulsive. “Even if someone did take him, remember that Pinky isn’t stuck with them. More like they’re stuck with a mouse who says narf and probably cares too much when he shouldn’t.”

Skippy yawned and nuzzled into her fur as he curled into a brown ball of fluff. “If you say so, Aunt Slappy.”

Slappy patted his head. Come to think of it, maybe Skippy trusted her way too much. She had no way of knowing where Pinky was.

“Get some sleep, kid,” Slappy yawned, ready to drift off herself. “We’ll take Jack with us when we go back to the tree in the morning. Can’t leave him by himself when he’s got a fever this bad.”

Skippy just curled into her, fast asleep already.

You’d better be okay, Pinky, Slappy thought. Or you’re gonna be sorry next time I see you.

AN: Slappy is a fun POV character to write, especially when you go by ‘Grunkle Stan as a female squirrel’ like I do. Grunkle Stan was a blueprint for how I characterized Slappy here, with Skippy serving as sort of a Mabel equivalent.

Candie Chipmunk was originally from the Slappy short ‘I Got Yer Can’.

Slappy has...an interesting influence on Skippy. And not everyone agrees with her method of parenting (I mean, she did take him into a bar). That certainly can’t come back to haunt them later.

I had to make fun of Dick’s name. There’s no way an Animaniacs character would ignore a name like that.

You gotta love the dramatic irony that Slappy figured out that Jack may’ve been attacked by a wild animal, or that Pinky was in fact taken by somebody, but those two points don’t come together just yet for her. For now, the Squirrels just think Jack is having a really bad fever.

The timeline of the film is a little spotty, but the village scenes aren’t going to happen all in one night in this story.

#pinky and the brain #beauty and the beast au #patb fanfiction #'til the last petal falls

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secret-rendezvous1d · 4 years ago

Text

“You owe me.”

hello, hi!

recently found a new bloke to crush on during lockdown, can’t stop watching him on the telly, can’t stop my imagination from running wild with creative writing ideas so here i am. yadda yadda yadda. this was all said before.

the previous story, linked here, has no link to this story and was supposed to be a one-off but it went down well and there was some lovely feedback given for the story and it made me want to do a second. i guess we’ll still have to see where it lands me afterwards because it’s still a new subject to talk, write and read about for my followers.

thank you. enjoy.

“you owe me” spencer reid x female reader (reader insert imagine) word count; 2.4k.

* if you haven’t watched criminal minds then this does contain some spoilers to the show that you may want to dodge if you are thinking of starting the series up. *

summary; the quiet night in the bau that everyone thought would last isn’t so quiet after all.

It was pretty rare for the Behavioural Analysis Unit to have a quiet night in the office.

No phone-calls made from police departments across the borders to insist their appearance on a case, no overdue reports to file after a lengthy case that took days to work out, no expected (or unexpected) visits from agent Strauss as she came to hunt for the next person who had done something that didn’t suit her and there were no briefings up and coming to fill everyone in with a case they were presumably due to work on once they were called. There was no reason for them to stay behind, sit around like sitting ducks, and play the waiting game for the next phone-call or the next time Hotch left his room with a file full of evidence or a new fax that came through requesting the help of an analysis unit with a serial killer case that had everyone else running ragged and tearing their hair out in frustration.

When Hotch left his office and disappeared behind the door of Rossi’s office with empty hands and a concerning look on his face, everyone had a hint of disappointment pinching at their faces, a sense of curiosity lingering in the air as to why he went to Rossi rather than calling a briefing so everyone could hear; was there a case that was about to take their potential free night away from them? Was it something personal and he wanted a second opinion on a case that came through? What was happening and where would they be going?

When he left the office, hands gripping the rails of the balcony and eyes trying to skip over everyone as they tried to pretend to busy themselves as if they weren’t being nosey and chatting about what the business would include, a cough brought the office to a standstill. Even in YN’s office, her fingers stopped typing on the report JJ had asked her for and she could see, through the small slit in the blinds that covered her windows, Hotch standing tall and ready to address everyone.

“I think it’s safe to say that it’s been a quiet afternoon here in the unit. We’re allowing you to go home for the evening but we’re asking you to keep your phones on you in case of a sudden request for our appearance,” he informed, a slight smile bringing the corners of his lips up into a small curve, “have a good night and we’ll report back tomorrow morning, if not before.”

It felt like the end of a school day. When you’d been granted leave early from the teacher in charge because there was no more work left to do, with the rush of excitement as everyone packed up their desks and rushed out the door to get as far away from the classroom as possible.

As soon as Hotch disappeared back into his office and closed the door behind him, half-full coffee mugs were left behind on the counter in the kitchenette and desktop computers were logged off and chairs were left where they’d been dragged to and coats were grabbed from the coat rack because everyone was in a rush to enjoy the one rare evening where they didn’t have to worry about work and rushing to finish deadlines. Garcia had her bag packed and was already saying her goodbyes with Kevin waiting outside for her, Morgan had his coat zipped up his body and was already almost out the office, Prentiss finished the last of her coffee in her tall mug before she disappeared to grab her bag from the briefing room, JJ was packing and piling cases up on her desk in her office before she said her goodbyes and Spencer slipped the strap of his bag over his shoulder and gave an awkward goodbye before leaving his desk.

YN kept her door open so she was able to involuntarily smile when Hotch declared they had the night off; the one night where she didn’t have to worry about Spencer not coming home because a case went into overdrive or because he was in danger with the rest of the team, the one night where she could go home with him and have him spew facts in the passenger seat of her car as she drove home, the one night in a long time where they could make plans before they got to the front door and argue over what they’d do for the evening, the one night where she could sleep peacefully and not have a million questions running through her mind as she laid down because the answer to her questions could be given by the sleeping soul beside her in bed. So, when she heard the gentle footsteps outside her office and saw the expected head of messy hair and face homing a cheeky smile, her belly tingled with butterflies because their night started now.

“Ready to go?”

“Yeah, I’m just signing something off for JJ and then I’ll be ready,” YN smiled, her chair creaking beneath her as she tucked herself back under her desk and let her fingers tap at the keys of her keyboard. He stepped into the office and closed the door behind him, a click filling the room as he sat down in the chair opposite her and crossed one leg over the other, watching her as she finished the last of her work. “I didn’t ask for an audience.”

He chuckled and held his hands up in surrender, her eyes darting from the screen of her computer to his eyes that were still looking at her.

“I don’t get to see you in the work environment. I’m just enjoying the view,” Spencer admitted, unhooking the strap of his bag from his shoulder and letting it drop to the floor beside the leg of his chair, “what are we doing when we get home? What do you fancy doing?”

“Whatever you want to do. The first night in a long time where you aren’t surrounded by a working case,” she suggested, the clicking of the keyboard keys coming to a stop as she forwarded the report to JJ and closed the tab for the day. Her hand rolled over her mouse, clicking buttons on the screen as she logged off and watched the screen before it went black. “I would like to grab a sandwich from the cafe down the road before we head home, if that’s okay? I’ve been craving a chicken salad sandwich and fries from them all day.”

“Why didn’t you say anything? I’d have ran out to get you something for lunch,” Spencer frowned, standing to his feet and reaching down for his bag, hooking it back round his shoulder and letting it fall down to his hip. The collar of his shirt tucking underneath the leather that he sorted out when it felt a little strange against his neck. YN stood to her feet, stretching upright to remove the kink from her back, because sitting at a desk and on a computer all day lead to back aches that lasted for days, letting soft mewling sounds leave her lips. “I can give you a massage when we get home. You look achey.”

She shrugged her jacket over her shoulders and zipped it over her chest and stepped around her desk, his body coming into close contact with hers and at such close proximity enough for her arms to wrap around his neck, fingers combing through the hairs at the nape of his neck as she brought his face down to her level. Lips pressing against his in a quick kiss.

“We could take turns?”

“Sounds good to me,” he grinned, pressing another kiss to her lips before retracting and standing up straight, hand instinctively reaching for hers, “let’s go before we jinx it.”

“Three hours in and nothing.”

“It feels - yeah, it feels good,” Spencer grinned from his space on the sofa, stretched out over the expanse with his feet kicked up on the table. His signature mismatched socks pulled up over his ankles, which didn’t pair well with the shorts hanging from his hips and stopping at his mid-thighs nor did they match with the rather extravagantly-patterned buttoned shirt (which was unbuttoned this time around) showing all chest and not hiding anything from the human eye. “Three hours and we’re still here. Are you coming to sit down or not?”

She nodded, scraping the plates free of its crumby remnants into the food waste bin and setting the plate in the washing up bowl full of soapy water, the cutlery scratching the china as it slid down and plopped into the water with a splash. Her feet dressed in wool winter socks that had her slipping on the kitchen tiles with each footstep she took closer to the living area, one of Spencer’s old and ratty t-shirts hanging down her body, barely hiding the lace knickers she had on her hips.

“I’m surprised we made it this far,” she sighed, straddling his hips and settling herself comfortably on his lap, “in fact, I’m surprised we’ve not had a surprise visit from Derek with beers under his arm.”

“Might have told them we didn’t want any interruptions,” Spencer said sheepishly, his soft palms cupping her naked hips and letting his thumbs rub circles into the soft skin beneath the lace lining, “the first night I get with you, where we get to be alone, I’m not sabotaging that. We’re taking full advantage of our alone time.”

The next morning would be torture, she said to herself.

As soon as the agents worked out what they didn’t want to be interrupted from (which, YN assumed, wouldn’t have taken them that long to figure out), the amount of teasing and joking around would become unbearable throughout the day. The cheeky comments that came mid-conversation, the knowing looks that they give when they see Spencer within the closest proximity of her, the whispers they give each other to add fuel to the fire.

As much as she loved her colleagues, their sex-life and what they did in ther personal time didn’t need to be brought into the work place as a topic for them to talk about.

“Get ready for some relentless teasing then,” YN admitted, shoving his shoulder with a gentle fist, “for a genius, you are a bit of a muppet sometimes.”

He grinned shyly.

“Come on, all this talking is wasting precious kissing time,” he said slowly, using his hands to adjust her hips to brush over his lap, bringing her closer so he could cover her cheeks in numerous and loving pecks, “here or the bedroom?”

“We’ll waste precious kissing time if we move from her to the bedroom,” she whispered against his mouth, “here is fine.”

It felt good. So very good. So pleasantly good to have his hands touch her and violate her in such a way that she loved him to, to have him melting under her as she kissed him so deeply and so passionately and tugged at his hair like he hated it on his head, to have him with her in a moment of passion which lacked in their household with the jobs they had. Her hands touched his chest, his hands caressed her breasts, his lips moulded with hers and her legs latched onto him like she was hanging on for dear life. Moans, groans, grumbles and murmurs leaving the small bubble they were consumed in, all signs of enjoyment to a moment they knew was coming…

… or would have come if it wasn’t for the consistent ringing that filled the apartment with a different sound...

YN felt certain that someone was holding a grudge against them… if not them, then, definitely her.

It had been three hours since they had stepped foot through their front door with the hopes of having an early night and a date-night at home with no interruptions. Three hours since they finished their takeaway meal in her car because she was too hungry to wait till she got inside. Just under three hours since they took a bath together under candlelight and just under three hours since he read to her in the bathroom, on something she had no clue about, as she massaged his shoulders with massage oils. Two hours since they sat in their underwear and ate the last of the lemon cake in the fridge, a cake they’d been saving for a decent occasion, and it had taken two hours to build the sexual tension.

“I swear to God-”

“It’s probably just a cold-caller. Leave it alone,” Spencer whispered, his breath hot over her collarbone as he continued dragging his mouth across her neck. Sucking on the tender skin, leaving bruises and bite marks in his wake as he moved down her chest, hands holding her hips tightly as he moved his hips against hers. “If it’s someone from the unit, they’ll call again.”

Leave them to call again.

Of course they called again; who was Spencer kidding?

“Hello?”

“Reid, we need you and YN back here at the office, immediately. We’ve been called in on a case, an hour flight from here, the wheels go up in two hours. It’s urgent so as soon as possible, please”

YN could hear Hotch’s expressionless voice drift from the speaker of Spencer’s phone and her stomach dropped. Of course, it was just their luck.

“You heard him…”

“I know,” she frowned, forearms resting on his shoulders as her fingers toyed with the wet hair at the nape of his neck, “you owe me. You owe me all the sex, all the kisses, all the cuddles and all the love in the world after we get home.”

“Absolutely,” he grinned, patting her thighs as an indication to stand up, “let’s go crack a case, partner.”

And with that, they rushed back into the bedroom without an inch of haste and dressed themselves as appropriately as they could. Shirt and a tie and slicked back hair for Spencer which made him look like he’d had a boring night at home and a blouse (which effectively meant YN had to go through the mission of covering up the hickies and the bite-marks that littered the entire base of her neck) and work trousers and a mess of hair she couldn’t just sort out in five minutes which made her look like she’d been dragged through a hedge backwards.

Another busy night in the books.

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid x reader insert imagines #spencer reid x reader insert fic #spencer reid x yn imagines #spencer reid x yn fic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds imagines #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler imagines #matthew gray gubler fics #matthew gray gubler x reader insert imagines #matthew gray gubler x yn fics #matthew gray gubler x yn imagines

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theyscreamjade · 5 years ago

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hi!! i binged ur bakugo oneshots and headcanons and absolutely fell in love with your writing style!!

i have a kinda specific request, and if you don’t want to do it that’s totally fine!! Whatever makes you most comfortable :)

So, a oneshot where reader has the “gifted kid burnout” syndrome?? like she used to be good at everything, it came naturally to her, and she was always praised for being amazing, yadda yadda yadda. But when she hit highschool, nothing came naturally, she couldn’t do it all perfectly, so she just. loses motivation. to do everything. she either sleeps all the time or barely, and she’s been lectured by Aizawa for her grades slipping more times than she can count. Bakugo is kinda like her pining bestie??and he notices and asks her about it and she just kinda breaks down?? and they cuddle?? i’m rambling here, again if this is too specific or you just don’t want to do that’s totally fine!! Thank you for writing such amazing works tho!! (●’◡’●)ﾉ

Slipped

I CAN RELATE TO THIS SHIT ON A THOUSAND LEVELS BECAUSE...high school was when I started self-harming and everything just crumbled after that. Trust me honey, it may seem hard now but it’ll get better. You don’t have to be perfect all the time, I’m still trying to break that habit. Thank you for being a Peep! The overwhelming support and everything, I never ever expected this. Thank you so much and I hope this helps!

————————————————————————————————————————

“You’re failing.” Your teacher said to you bluntly as he stood in front of you. The afternoon sun shines through the halfway closed blinds in the empty classroom.

You couldn’t lift your head to answer, your mind was focused on the words he said without a hesitation. You exceeded everyone’s expectations, you were your parents golden child. You were going to do the one thing that your parents gave up to do. You were going to become the best Pro-Hero out there and give your all.

“I-....I-I’ll do better next time.” You spoke to the older adult as he sighed, sitting down in the chair in front of you. “Listen, You’re at risk of being removed from my class. I’ve given and done the best I could to keep you here.” He explained softly while looking towards your hanging head. “You started off great and now you can’t seem to keep up with your peers..or even in training. Is everything okay?” He asked, showing a bit of concern for you.

Time to put those professional acting skills, you sat up and smiled, scratching the back of your head. “I’m okay! I’ve just been busy, that’s all!” You explained as he frowned a bit. “Y/N, You don’t have to be afraid to tal-“

“I’m sorry, Sensei! Trust me, don’t worry! I’ll be fine okay?” You reassured before standing up. “Those grades will be back to normal and everything will be fine.” You explained, waving his worries away before you made your way to the doors. The raven haired teacher followed and handed you your make-up work. You gathered the items needed before you left in a quick hurry. You just wanted to be alone.

Your feet tapped against the ground as the pressure was intense, your mind ran rapid while you prayed that they didn’t contact your parents. That was the last thing you needed. You sat in the common room’s dinning table and began doing your work. You grabbed your pencils and looked at the rows and rows of work as your grip became tighter.

“Heya Nuggs!” Denki said, sitting down in the chair in front of you. “Whatcha doing?” He asked, leaning over in curiosity. You and Denki were friends since elementary school, it’s crazy how retrieving a dime from his nose made you two the best of friends. “Not now, Denki.” You responded, trying to stay focused.

The overwhelming depression weighed down on your chest as everything seemed to be smaller. “Why are you doing work? I didn’t know we had homework.” Denki questioned, while looking over the paperwork. “Denki, Please.” You said, your voice at the urge of snapping as he chuckled. “Typical, Y/N. Always trying to be the best, ever since we were kids you always was the greatest.” He said as your blood began to boil.

“I guess that’s why you’re at the t-“ “IM NOT AT THE TOP DAMNIT!” You screamed, slamming your pencil on the paper, snapping it in half. “IM NOT THE BEST! IM NOT THE GREATEST! I CANT DO EVERYTHING IM FUCKING FAILING!!” You screamed as your friend looked at you, worried. You slapped your hands over your mouth, gathering everyone’s attention who was inside. “Y-Y-Y/N?” Denki started to say while you gathered the papers.

“Y/N! Wait!” Denki tried to call out while you ran out of the room, shaking as your body collided with someone else’s. You glanced at the person before you continued running. You could feel your body shaking as your worst nightmare was becoming a reality. Your shoulder touched the wall as you fought to keep yourself calm. The panic in your heart was rushing while everything felt a thousand times heavier. Your heart was slamming against your chest before you felt a hand lift you up. His head slipped underneath your arm as he swiftly lifted you to bridal style. It honestly surprised you to see your peer, Bakugo carrying you as if you were a princess.

The sheer randomness, somehow calmed your edging panic attack as you sat on your bed. “You okay?” He asked softly as you looked up at him. You nodded softly and sat your books on the seat beside your bed. “What the hell’s going on with you?” He’d ask afterwards. Though he only knew you for the two years of you two being in school after you transferred before your sophomore year. He’s worked with you and knew how you normally were, the sudden change made him worry, but he refused to let you know that.

“Nothing..” you quickly responded as he scoffed. “Don’t lie, What the fuck is wrong with you?” He asked, annoyance starting to show as he sat on your desk chair. You couldn’t lie to him, even if you tried. Denki, Deku and Bakugo were the only ones who could crack you open like a walnuts.

“.....I-I’m failing class.” You stated softly. “I-..I’ve worked so hard, I’ve done my best, gave everything my all and I’m fucking failing.” You continued as tears started to flow from your eyes, your hand gripped your scalp while you sat up. “How fucking pathetic of me, I-I went from flying through every test, being at the top with you guys and I’m failing. I-I can’t call myself a hero when I can’t save people! I can’t call myself the best when I’ve failed my tests! I can’t call myself anything! I-I can’t sleep! I-I barely eat or drink! I-“

“Shut up, Dumbass!” He snapped, looking at you. “You’re failing, so what? You’ll make it up won’t you?” He questioned as you looked down. “Oi! You said you wanted to be a hero, you said you wanted to save people just how your parent did, right?!” He asked as you nodded. “It’s a small drop, you should stop holding back your feelings and pushing yourself and relax for once.” He stated, crossing his arms. “When you fall down...I want to be there to pick you back up, just don’t give up Dumbass.” He said while blush covered his cheeks. His sudden wave of affection was way out his normal personality.

You couldn’t help but smile, wiping your tears away. “Thank you, Bakugo.” You replied softly as he scoffed again, making you laugh. Once your anxiety and mind was back in order, you continued on your work. Bakugo stayed and helped you completed it, helping you with every question. Nearing completion, your eyes began to droop. Your vision struggled to stay clear as your mind declared that it needs to rest. “Oi, Dumbass?” He called while you struggled. Considering it was nearly one the morning, who could stay awake after the day you had?

Your head fell at his shoulders as he smiled softly, watching you finally close your eyes. It was sudden instinct and he just wanted to make sure you actually slept for the whole night, your head laid on your pillow while he laid beside you, his back facing the edge of the bed and the door. While he stared, his vision stayed on you while he admired how cute you were in such a peaceful manner. This was something he looked for, the person you originally were. His mind began to drift onto dream world while you were found in his arms, your breathing moving in perfect harmony.

#my hero academia #bnha fanfiction #my hero academy fanfiction #my hero academia fanfiction #bnha bakugo katsuki #i hope you like this #my hero academia scenarios #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo fluff #bakugo x black reader #bakugo x reader

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blueluneacy · 5 years ago

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Monsters of the Alley

I did it folks. It’s a dedicated sorbet/gelato/reader fic, written by me. I’m supposed to be studying for finals.

I got this idea from @j0succ, so you should check them out! Their blog gave me minor character disease-

It’s a Not SFW Werewolf!Sorbet x Human!Reader x Vampire! Gelato! wow

Words: 3k

Warnings: NOT SFW, implied stalking, predator/prey play, breaking and entering, violence, rough play, biting, bloodplay, SERIOUS dubcon, kidnapping, all around yandere, just a bad time for the reader

You knew that walking alone at night was a bad idea, but what could you do, really? It wasn’t like the world was going to wait around for you, cater to your every need. In a world full of monsters, you knew that it was dangerous to be a human, alone and fragile in the dark, but hey. They say that humans were the most common and that attacks from monsters were actually pretty uncommon, yadda yadda, whatever. It didn’t matter how many warnings you were given, you weren’t the type to listen to you. Maybe it was stubbornness, or just plain need that kept you moving through the dark streets. After all, you had done this probably hundreds of times before. If you stopped working, who knows what would happen. It was well worth the risk.

So, you kept walking, kept moving through the dark streets in hopes that slipping through an alleyway here or there would get you home faster. While maybe this wasn’t the best idea, you weren’t exactly the type to care. You had pepper spray, after all. Everything would be fine.

That’s what you continued to tell yourself as you walked down the alleyway, ignoring every sound you heard down the street. Because it was always a stray cat in a dumpster, or a drug deal you weren’t about to get in the middle of. It was basic Italian sentiment to mind your own business, and you had at least picked up on that rather well. So when you passed the two men at a corner, you didn’t really give their glances two thoughts, just gripping your purse tighter and walking a bit more quickly. You let them rake their eyes over you, because that’s all you thought they would do. After all, no men would hang out around these parts of Naples unless they were up to no good. When you were a few steps away, you turned back just to see if they were still looking at you, only to find that they had walked away. Good. It was always nice when things were easier for you. Maybe they thought you would get in the way of some meeting or whatever. You didn’t care enough to find out. You just kept walking, taking your usual route home.

And maybe that’s where you should’ve been worried. After all, you took this route home every day, rarely changing your routine. Have you seen those men before? You weren’t sure, but you could’ve sworn something was familiar about them. Like, the darker haired man’s nose felt quite sharp, or the teeth of the smaller man looked like they almost glistened in the light. You tried to shake the thoughts away as you opened the door to your small, shitty apartment, fumbling with the key a bit in the darkness. This was hell, working late into the night like this. You knew you weren’t going to make yourself anything healthy to eat, so you didn’t even bother to kid yourself anymore. You just swung open the door, pulling off your shoes and practically flinging yourself onto the couch, sinking into the cushions as you already felt your eyes fluttering shit.

And yet, something wasn’t right. Something didn’t feel right about something in your home, but you didn’t know what it was. You sat up, looking around but you couldn’t find a thing to really put your finger on. A certain uneasiness in your chest, like you could feel yourself being watched. You got up and moved to check if your door was locked, sighing a bit in relief when you saw it was. Good, you were just going crazy. It was much easier for you to accept that you were a lunatic than you were in danger, after all. And yet, when you heard a floorboard creak behind you, you turned in fear, swallowing as you looked over what had to be an illusion.

“So nice of you to lock the door for us, cara.” You heard the smaller man practically snarl to you, but the sound was faint over the sound of the blood pumping in your ears as your breathing picked up. They were… The men from the alleyway? But how did they get here faster than you, and what was the deal with…. You noticed the large teeth and muzzle of the darker haired man, the way his eyes looked over you as if you were just meat, and maybe that’s all you really were to him. Or maybe it was seeing how pale the other man’s skin was in this light, the way you could see him baring his fangs, his tongue drifting over them idly.

Oh god. Not only were these two monsters, but they were the most stereotypical combo to murder you. Your death was totally going to look like a joke. Still you swallowed a bit, trying to show a little bit of strength in this dire moment.

“G… Get out of my house, and I won’t call the cops.” You snapped back, letting the heavy pause linger in the air. The two of them stared at you, almost shocked at your defiance, before laughing. Well, maybe you should’ve seen that coming. Not only were the both of them stronger than you, but everyone knew that the police would take their time coming here, ready to solve a crime but not stop one. That was the way things were. With the weak being devoured by the strong.

“I told you, Sorbet. She’s a fighter, wouldn’t it be a lot more fun that way?” The man purred, leaning his head against the taller man, who you could only assume was Sorbet, leaving him to wrap an arm around him, but not take his eyes off of you.

“This should be interesting enough.” Sorbet replied, leaving you to gulp. Fuck it. Fuck it all. It was now or never. You would rather die knowing you gave a proper fight than just let yourself be devoured by these… things. You gripped the doorknob tightly, flinging open the door and bolting out, hoping to get as far away as possible. You had no idea where or how you were going to get there, but it didn’t really matter in the long run, did it? After all, you only got ten meters out the door.

You yelped as claws dug into your shoulders, grabbing onto you and dragging you back into your apartment. You tried to fight, but it became quickly clear that if you got away from Sorbet’s hold, it would be without your shoulder. You noticed vaguely how the vampire’s nose seemed to flare up as you were thrown to the ground, your head slamming against the shitty hardwood. You groaned, trying to pick yourself up off the ground as you heard the door slam shut, only for a boot to be slammed into your back.

“You look hungry, Gelato. Maybe you should take a bite before we get started?” Sorbet spoke out, but his teasing seemed much more sadistic that Gelato’s. Well, they were both sadistic assholes, but at least Gelato’s words had a light quality to them. Either way, Gelato just leaned down and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“That was quite a cute stunt you pulled, ragazza. We really do look forward to seeing what other tricks you attempt to pull.” He purred. You squirmed in his grasp, but his hold on you was bruising, leaving you just to snarl.

“Do you always play with your food, or am I just special?” You spat back, leaving Gelato to give you a sick smile as he let you go, only from Sorbet to thread his head through your hair and pull you up, his claws digging into your scalp.

“You’re just special, troia.” Sorbet growled into your ear, roughly using his other hand to tear off your clothing as if it were just paper. You gasped and tried to cover yourself, only for Gelato to grab your wrists and pin your against Sorbet’s body, the two of them giving you little room to move. You felt the bulges against you, and you gulped, your eyes widening a bit. Oh god, they weren’t planning to kill you. They were planning to do so much worse. You just squirmed, trying to fight your captors but to no avail. They were both just too strong, enjoying the chase a little too much. Gelato leaned down to your shoulder wound, inhaling sharply before dragging his tongue over it. You gasped at the sting, gritting your teeth as you heard the breathy purr that came from Gelato’s throat.

“I’d prefer if you didn’t fuck around with the killing me part.” You spat back, trying to kick to get the two of them off of you, only for Sorbet to growl as he dug his nails into you, the pain leaving you to whimper a bit as you were a bit more still for Gelato to suck and lap at the wound. You were certain that it was going to leave a nasty scar at this rate.

“You’re lucky I’m not the one who’s starving, or else you’d be torn to shreds. Be good for my Gelatino, now.” He breathed into your ear, and you could feel how hot his breath was, smell the blood wafting off him in a way that just made your most primal instincts tell you to run, to escape from these predators. And yet, you gasped when you felt the two of them grind against you. Adrenaline was one hell of a drug, and that was the only reason the heat was starting to coil in your belly. Whatever helps you sleep at night.

Gelato finally pulled away from your shoulder with a soft hum, letting go of you to work on tearing off your pants. The two of them really had no care for your clothing, to the point where it was pissing you off. You could at least undress yourself.

“H-Hey, what the hell?! I had to pay for those, you know!” Well, it was easier to bring up smaller concerns in your attempts to be defiant in all of this, doing your best to ignore the hot feelings coiling inside of you as you felt Sorbet wrapping his arms around you as Gelato more tenderly took off your panties.

“You’ve already soaked through, troia. I guess a needy slut like you will do anything for a cock inside of her.” Gelato teased, shoving a finger inside of you. It easily slid in, but you still jumped at the roughness, a bit of fight still in you. It was quickly quelled with a tight grip from Sorbet, his nails drawing blood in a way that made Gelato lick his lips.

“Behave, or I’ll make you.” Sorbet growled, leaving you to whimper and nod just a little bit, Gelato just rolling his eyes a bit. He pulled his finger out, shoving it in your mouth with expectation to suck. With Sorbet’s threat still in the air, you didn’t hesitate to wrap your lips around his finger.

“She’s spread enough. Besides, a slut like that will enjoy the pain anyway, there’s no need.” Gelato complained, not looking at you but up at his boyfriend. You could tell that he was impatient, clearly used to getting what he wanted rather quickly and not wanting to work for it. Sorbet thought for a moment, before leaning in to press a kiss against Gelato’s lips over your shoulder. You never felt like such a third wheel before.

“I indulge you too much.” Sorbet replied, relenting as he let you go for a moment, leaving you to wobble for a moment as you got your bearings. It might be easier to run from one rather than two, but a sick twisted part of you kind of just wanted to see where this would go. I mean, even if they were two twisted bastards who most certainly would kill you after this, well… This familiarity, you just still couldn’t quite understand what it was.

Almost as quickly he let go though, Sorbet was grabbing you again, dragging you over to the couch and onto his lap. You gasped as you felt your bare back against his chest, the fur that covered his body much more prominent. You gasped as you felt Sorbet’s cock rub up against you, realizing how big it was, and how much you fucked up by not trying to run away.

“W-Wait, it’s too big! It won’t fit, please!” You cried out, only for Sorbet to simply scoff at your pleas.

“I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit.” He growled, giving you no chance to protest before pushing into you with one harsh thrust. You screamed out, tears falling from your eyes as your body tried to adjust to the length inside of you. You gasped and heaved, barely noticing how Gelato was coming closer to you, like a fox towards an injured rabbit.

“Look how pretty the two of you are together. I feel left out.” Gelato purred, brushing a piece of hair from your face. The tenderness was unnerving, leaving you to fear what exactly he was planning to do next.

“I never said you couldn’t join us.” Sorbet replied, and you craned your head to see a smirk on his face, the same plan forming in both their minds that you were helplessly left out of. It only clicked when you started to feel Gelato rub up against your full entrance, leaving your eyes to widen as you realized exactly what was going on.

“So kind of you to invite me. You don’t mind, do you, carina?” Gelato asked, but his voice was dripping with vitriol, clearly having no intentions to stop no matter what you said. But still, you pleaded.

“W-Wait, please, I’m too full, you can’t, p-please-” You were cut off by your own breathy gasp and Gelato pushed past your limits, thrusting himself inside of you in a way that you didn’t think the human body could actually handle.

“Such a bad liar, puttana. It’s clear that your body was made for our cocks.” Sorbet growled, allowing you no time to adjust as he started to move, Gelato gladly taking the cue to start fucking into you with vigor. There was nowhere for you to escape, leaving you to groan, grabbing onto Sorbet’s thighs to try and give yourself something to hold onto. Gelato grabbed onto your chest while Sorbet held your hips.

“Do you like this? Like being fucked by the men who’ve been watching you all this time?” Gelato teased, and you whimpered, realizing to yourself that you did like it, quite a lot in fact. Something about the way they were fucking you seemed to scratch some primal itch, leaving you to squeeze down on their cocks heartily, moans and gasping pouring from your open mouth.

“Che brava coniglia… It’s a good thing we got to you first.” Sorbet huffed into your ear, and god, you could feel him nipping at it lightly, subconsciously tilting your head to give the man more access.

“Any other monster would’ve devoured you by now. But you’re ours, and we like to make sure what’s ours stays right in our sight. You should be grateful.” Gelato’s tone and words were threatening, but you were too far gone to care. The two of them just felt so good inside of you that you could barely put together a coherent thought, leaving you to simply babble.

“P-Please, fuck, Sorbet, g-god, Gelato, please, I’m so so close-” You whined out, trying to buck against the two of them, but Sorbet held you far too tightly. The two of them just seemed to speed up their thrusts into you at your warning, leaning in to the opposite sides of your neck to worry at the flesh.

“Cum for us then, piccola puttana sporca.” Sorbet growled, before the two of them sunk their teeth into the sides of your neck. You moaned out loudly as you came, the waves of ecstasy washing over your body quickly leaving you just to shudder in their grasp before going limp. Lucky enough for you, the way you milked their cocks while you came seemed to be enough to push them over the edge, and you felt the heat of their mixed fluids deep inside of you. It felt so much hotter than you would’ve anticipated. They held onto your neck for a bit, before pulling away and lapping up the blood they drew, taking pleasure in the small winces and whines you gave in return.

When they finally pulled out, you felt yourself immediately lose balance and collapse in a heap on the floor. That took a lot more out of you than you expected. You looked up drearily at the pair, thinking about how this was it, how they were going to kill you. Well. It was a good run, at least. You can definitely say you went out with a bang.

But, Sorbet just scooped you up in his arms, carrying you like a sack of potatoes. “W-What? What’s going on, what are you doing?!” You started to squirm, but Sorbet paid it no mind, turning to Gelato.

“See anything you like here?” “Not really. It’s honestly just full of a bunch of knick knack crap. She won’t need any of it anyway.” Gelato replied, leaving you to cry out as you squirmed.

“What, can’t just eat me here?! Got more plans to torture me?!” You spat, but Gelato just smirked, shaking his head.

“Do you really think we’re going to kill you? You really are dense. Maybe we will, later. But I think I want to see how far that pretty little will of yours goes. You don’t mind, do you?” Gelato replied, and god, you had learned to hate that smile on his face. Sorbet just patted you on the back, his tone smooth but ultimately as terrifying.

“Oh, carina. We have so many more plans for you.”

#sorbet/gelato/reader #sorbet x gelato x reader #sorlato/reader #sorlato x reader #NOT SFW #dub con #writing #My writing #mine #jjba imagines #jjba x reader #jjba/reader

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fizzingwizard · 5 years ago

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Digimon Adventure: Ep 19!

Wow! That certainly was an Episode!! It was pretty fun from start to finish, though nothing mind-blowing, but it was definitely the ending that made me gasp. Not wholly unexpected to an old turnip like me, but promising lots of fun (and angst!).

Picture of the week: MIKO, THE TRUE STAR OF THE SERIES!!

no for serious are the writers reading my reviews? they keep giving me what I want. within reason I guess. They seem to have an extremely limited budget as usual x’D

but Miko is still adorbs

ok I’m really looking forward to recapping this one so let’s get to it!

So last week I thought the kids sans Taichi and Yamato were abducted by Devimon, but apparently that either isn’t the case, or it was, but then Devimon decided it’s best just to dump the kids back on Earth and hold on to their partners. Because that’s the current situation. While concerning that the kids are separated from their partners, it’s probably best this way, since Devimon appears to be sending Gesomon(?) and Parrotmon(?)

to the human world, if I remember right. It’s hard to remember what happened in the first fifteen seconds kay So when the kids find their partners it will probably be in the human world and they can fight back.

Meanwhile Taichi and Yamato are alone and very Confuse

Taichi tries frantically to contact Koushirou. The others too... but especially Koushirou.

Finally he gets him!! He’s so happy!! My Taishiro heart flutters!

But I was fully expecting it to be a trap. When I saw this still here, my first thought was “Devimon’s forcing him to tell Taichi a lie by threatening him with a gun!!”

of course thats not whats happening. Koushirou is relatively fine and there are no guns (yet). What’s happened is the other kids have been sent back to the human world for reals this time!

This show is not even bothering to hide its Taiyama angle.

They spend the entire episode giving each other Significant Looks like this. The entire episode.

Now where’s Jou through all of this, you ask?

He went to talk to the police. He’s shocked they don’t believe his story about monster attacks and the world ending (well, at least Tokyo ending). I freaking love how taaaaall Jou is. Though it makes Koushirou look like a bean x’D

Jou = beansprout / Koushirou = bean

Koushirou has a much easier time dealing with the news that the police don’t believe them. He’s a denizen of the Internet. He knows how people’s minds work. And he has tons of chat logs to prove it.

People are chatting and spreading gossip and disbelief and complaints, but my favorite is the comment that just says “It’s a flood of fake news” xP

The home team runs into Mama Yagami! Who Sora literally calls Mama Yagami! x’D I mean I know that’s how kids generally refer to their friends’ parents but I still lol��d.

So un... Jou is almost as tall as Mama Yagami. LMAO. I’m gonna assume she’s short. Jou might indeed be quite tall for his age but Sora and Mimi are pretty close to Mama Yagami’s height too. I guess we haven’t seen Taichi standing next to his mom yet! With his hair he’s probably taller than her.

So Mama Yagami is HILARIOUS and I’m so glad that’s a continuing thing in the reboot! She was already that way in 99 Adventure, but we’re just seeing a lot of it now - like every time she’s around. (And we didn’t see it in Tri so I missed that.) Basically she seems like a basketcase. Not a totally irresponsible one, more like just... generally the carefree go with the flow type. Which is not bad. She just also seems a bit, uh, ditzy?? I think Taichi probably grew to be so serious by necessity. Dad’s busy with work and someone’s gotta make sure mom doesn’t leave the house without her keys!

The way Sora just stares at Hikari like “explain??” after Mama Yagami thrusts Miko at her and runs off to get her car with a big smile as if they hadn’t all nearly died recently... bahahaha.

also I love how she doesn’t even bother asking her son’s good friend if she knows where he is after not seeing or hearing from him for three full days

^The face of a boy shouldering the weight of nuclear family life and all its batshitness

Taichi and Yamato determine their priority is find the Holy Digimon. I wish they were a little more concerned with what happened to their friends’ partners, but I guess this is the only goal with solid clues. Anyway before they can do anything they are attacked by Bulbmon Looks like subtitlers went with Valvemon which also works, who looks like a Lego monster creation by an eight year old (and probably is).

He has the Domo face. Grrraaah

Domo is NHK mascot by the way. bahahaha

Next these guys come swarming out of Valvemon. (And if we didn’t already get it, apparently Digimon can construct other Digimon as we’ve seen before.) Nothing is quite as freaky as gas masks. They are commanded by Minotaurmon/Mintaromon whatever.

They too have the aim of Stormtroopers though so our heroes will be fine...

... probably...

... then Leomon finally shows up!! Yay! He looks good! All beefy and scarred and sounding exactly like Zaraki Kenpachi. Uhh. Is it the same VA?? Nothing comes up in the Google search so maybe not but it sure sounds like him. (Minotaurmon and Ogremon also sound like Leomon... while it’s normal for VAs in kids shows to voice multiple characters esp minor ones, it literally sounds like Zaraki Kenpachi is the voice of all the characters in this episode besides the main ones. And Mama Yagami of course because that would be weird.)

Leomon may look cool, but his ride... and his friends... uh, less cool x’D I want to strangle that ostrich thing with its own scarf somehow it inspires violent emotion in me

In the smallest, most shocked voice, Yamato says, “Leomon...?” It’s honestly kind of adorable. He’s clearly remembering what Neemon said about Leomon leading the resistance way back when.

Leomon helps them escape. Taichi very considerately and cutely helps Agumon aboard the fashion disaster ostrich emu thing.

Yamato also considerately helps his partner but rather less cutely xD

Leomon takes them to his hideout and gives them your standard fare of weird-looking Digi fruit. He then proceeds to tell them about Devimon and that he is trying to infiltrate Valvemon yadda yadda.

Taichi is freaking ADORABLE, immediately concerned that by saving their asses, Leomon’s battle plans have been ruined. Leomon waves that aside though. Yamato is equally adorabibble when he asks after Neemon and gets told that they made it to Leomon safely.

Leomon plans to try to get into Valvemon again because he knows Devimon’s put something related to the holy Digimon in there. Taichi is determined to join in. He doesn’t have much of an argument as it why they should be allowed when they just got their butts kicked so easily, but he has a trick up his sleeve: the Burning Eyes of Fiery Passion.

Not to be outdone, Yamato shoots off his Icy Eyes of Cold Determination.

Faced with this twin assault, Leomon has to give in. Ahh, I remember last week when we saw the trailer for this ep and I naively thought Leomon would train them like Piximon did in 99 Adventure. Nope. They’ve just met and they’re already spy buddies.

Okay, okay, yeah Leomon does seem to have some knowledge of the “Chosen Children” and that’s his real motivation. Still.

They break into Valvemon and we get the excellent invention of Agumon riding on Garurumon. I assume because of Garurumon’s advantageous speed. That seems to be recurring thing in this show.

Idk I just capped this because he’s so darn cute

I don’t know why I capped this one though.

They enter some sort of central space where Leomon tells them something relevant to the holy Digimon is being kept. (Lol I already forgot the details of what he said.) There are two protectors, Minotaurmon and Bullmon. Leomon tells the kids to take Bullmon while he faces down Minotaurmon. These guys might have been somewhat intimidating if we hadn’t already got Perfect level evolutions mastered, not to mention the occasional Jogress :P Sooo I didn’t feel too worried.

... uh, never mind x’D Taichi what are you doing

Yamato saves his idiot butt and almost gets in a bind himself. Once again I’m just wondering why they are sticking at Adult level. Whatever. They win of course

Leomon uses his Fist of the Beast King to maim Minotaurmon. His brilliant one-liner? “I have more than one first.”

Bully: *punches you*

You: ow

Bully: *smirk* I have more than one fist.

You: That’s funny, I only have one, but it’s made of titanium *You punch the bully straight through the stratosphere* Quality over quantity!!!!

*cough*

Our heroes approach the secret compartment supposedly holding something to do with the holy Digimon... Yamato gets a look inside and gets the black shadow of true terror over his eyes

becaue floating inside like some kind of Weapon X experiment is... Takeru!!!

Hold on while I put in my ear plugs. Okay, ready, screech all you want now.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!

So... okay. First of all, baby Takeru is sooooooo cute <3 I had two predictions about what happened to Takeru last week. Either he ended up in the digital world and was now on his own, or he got abducted by Devimon. I thought the former was more likely, but in hindsight, it should have been obvious that it was the second. This show misses a lot of points where I feel like they could have developed some relationships or thrown in some drama, but it never passes up a chance for Yamato angst.

So yeah, this is pretty much gonna destroy Yamato xD Not only is the baby brother he wanted to protect no longer at home where he can easily protect him, he’s now in the digital world and in the enemy’s clutches.

I BETTER SEE REALLY TRAUMATIZED YAMATO NEXT WEEK. Of course, I expect him to be cool-headed enough to try to save Takeru, but I will be very disappoint if this goes off with no break downs at all. Takeru is always Yamato’s number one priority!

Super exciteddddd

So I give this ep 7.5/10. The .5 is pretty much for ending with a killer cliffhanger. My one real complaint about this ep is how highly plot-based everything is - we finally got the team all together only to split them up, and on top of that, once split up, we don’t even get all that many character moments between Taichi and Yamato. As I said, they give each other lots of Signifcant Looks, but man cannot live on bread alone. However this is par for the course for this show and I know I should stop mentioning it every week because I doubt it’s changing. We will get the big shockers when we get them and not a moment before.

I just want Yamato to cry in front of Taichi and make him all uncomfortable x’D That’s what made 99 Adventure so great bahahaha

Some cool bits from next week’s trailer:

Surprise surprise, Angemon is the holy Digimon! Or one of, anyway. And he is indeed trapped. This makes the “Angemon is Devimon” theory less likely. Let’s not forget that our heroes’ Digimon partners were evidently a band of powerful warriors in the past, but they’ve forgotten much of it. I won’t be surprised if the result of that war played a part in Angemon’s abduction.

Next week they’ll have to fight to save Takeru from being drained, I guess.

And then!! Digi egg! Excite. Also I only just noticed that his hate says TK!!!

Takeruuu <3 My first fav when I was 10. Though my heart has belonged to Taichi for many long years, I still have a special spot in it for Takeru only <3 Even if he does dress like a celery stick

#digimon adventure 2020 #digimon adventure:#digimon adventure reboot #digi spoilers #digimon #fizz watches digimon 2020 #i made edits lets see if they save for once...

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