#One Click Pest Control

[maxxkoke]

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[mushroom-words]

Pest Control || Poly!WolfStar

Fandom: Harry Potter (Marauders)

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader x Sirius Black

Words: 1085

Notes: So I’m not too sure how I feel about this. It’s my first time actually writing this pairing, and I really wanna explore it more, but it’s been difficult for me to come up with any ideas. I just kind of wrote whatever came to me as I went. And I know the formatting is off, I’ll fix it when I get on my computer.

Warnings: Dom/Sub elements. Pet names. Nothing explicit or adult.

Summary: Giving Sirius a flea bath is always interesting.

“SIRIUS, FOR THE love of Merlin—”

An aggravated sigh pushed past your lips as you kicked the door shut with your foot. You reached behind you to twist the lock into place, never taking your narrowed eyes from the large black dog raising his hackles at you. Pathetic grumbles flew towards you as he stood his ground.

You huffed and pushed your hair from your face. “Must we go through this every bloody time?” you complained, popping your hands onto your hips as you leveled him with a stern gaze, all traces of amusement wiped from your expression. “Maybe if you stopped tracking in fleas, we wouldn’t have to do this, would we?”

Sirius gave you a reproachful look as he grunted unhappily.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to discover a flea or two in your home. Between Sirius running around in his Animagus form and Remus shifting every full moon, you expected there to be a couple of the pests every now and then. You proactively treated the entire house once a month just to keep an infestation at bay. Remus was mindful to clean himself thoroughly whenever one was found just in case it had come from him. Sirius would much rather suffer with the incessant biting and itching in silence before submitting to a bath.

You never understood why he hated the flea baths so much or why he wouldn’t just take the appropriate measures to avoid needing one in the first place.

“You wanna wait for Rem to come home and take care of you himself?” You raised a brow, challenging the Animagus.

He whined, lowering himself onto his haunches.

“That’s what I thought. Now please get in the sodding bath, you mutt.”

Sirius grumbled at you but reluctantly jumped into the warm water. You rolled your eyes and kneeled beside the tub, deftly wetting his fur and lathering him in the flea shampoo. He continued to huff and whine even as you made sure to rub him down with a gentle massage, working the shampoo into his fur and picking out the parasites that emerged.

“I don’t know why you always have to make this so bloody difficult,” you muttered.

He whimpered at your words and turned to drag his wet tongue across your face. You jerked away from the touch with a breathless chuckle, shaking your head fondly at the apology in the movement.

“Okay, okay. Just stay still and let me finish, yeah?”

Sirius sat obediently as you rinsed off the shampoo, chuffing when you finally turned off the faucet and announced you were done. You reached over for the towel to help him get dry when he jumped to his feet and shook himself off. Water sprayed everywhere.

“Sirius!” You shielded your face from the droplets, not able to help your small giggle when he barked happily, his tail wagging. “Okay, fine. Dry yourself off then. Come out when you’re done,” you said.

Leaving the towel for him to use, you left the bathroom, knowing he would walk out on two legs in just a couple of moments. You picked at your wet clothes a bit unhappily but couldn’t find it in you to be too annoyed now that it was finally done.

The front door clicked open and shut from down the hall. A relieved sigh pushed past your lips as you moved to the foyer to greet your other boyfriend.

Remus smiled when he saw you and pulled you in for a sweet kiss that had you melting into him. He raised a brow as he looked over your wet clothes and mussed hair. “What’ve you been up to, dovey?”

“Siri had fleas.”

“Again?”

You hummed, closing your eyes to savor the feeling of his arms coming around you. His hand flattened against your spine to hold you to him, thumb caressing your skin over the back of your shirt.

Always one to know when to make an entrance, your boyfriend sauntered down the hall with the towel hanging around his hips. His hair was damp as it slung around his face. He smirked.

“Telling on me already, sweetheart?” he teased, pausing briefly to give Remus a chaste kiss above your head.

Remus hummed softly. “Did you give our sweet girl a hard time, Pads?”

“No more than usual,” he grinned, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You rolled your eyes at him but let him tug you closer to him. “Drew quite the attitude from her though.”

“Is that so?” Remus lifted a brow as he looked at you.

Heat immediately rushed to your face. “That doesn’t count!” you whined. “You were being mean!”

“Called me a mutt and everything,” Sirius continued, squeezing your side lightly.

“Wha— c’mon, that’s not fair! You were being ridiculous!” You turned your gaze to Remus, pleading with him silently.

His warm gaze studied you for a second, taking in your flushed expression and rounded eyes. He then flicked his eyes back up to Sirius. The two of them seemed to communicate with only their eyes. You shifted on your feet, fighting the urge to bring your thumbnail to your mouth.

Finally Remus smiled. “We’ll discuss it later,” he decided. “Let’s have some dinner first, yeah?”

“But—”

Your protest was cut off when Sirius grabbed your cheeks, fingers gently squeezing them together to pucker your lips. “Ah ah. You heard him, bunny,” he teased. “After dinner.”

A strangled whine crept up your throat. “Not fair,” you huffed, words slurred due to your cheeks still being pinched together. “Didn’t even do anything… Mean.”

Remus leveled you with a look that had your heart fluttering inside your chest. “Stop whining, dove. We’ll talk about it after we eat, okay?”

You deflated, body sagging against Sirius, whose chest vibrated lowly with his soft chuckle. “‘Kay,” you agreed quietly, knowing arguing right now wouldn’t turn out in your favor.

“Good. I love you.” He kissed your forehead tenderly.

“Love you.” He brushed past you after exchanging the same sentiment with your other boyfriend and wandered further into the hall, more than likely headed to dress into more comfortable clothes.

Sirius finally released you, turning you to face him. His thumb immediately found your bottom lip. “Poor bunny,” he mocked playfully.

You huffed at him. “Mean,” you repeated, lip pushing against his thumb in a pout.

He slanted his mouth over yours for a soft kiss. “Keep it up, sweetheart,” he said, eyes glimmering in entertainment, “and we’ll show you mean.”

[howlingmod]

I love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love x evil(not as evil) killer reader

please feed me more with any or all forsaken surviver x killer reader

please I'm on my hands and knees

summary - guest 1337 x killer reader

misc - these are getting really esoteric WHOOPS!!!!!! also um. sorry for the absence ive been Very Busy. guest's s/o is straight EVIL sorry they're AMmaxxing i cant lie

-You had to be the biggest thorn in his side. You were different from the other killers in the sense that, very much unlike the others, you weren't mobile. You were confined to one set spot a little ways away from the campsite, able to freely control the entire space without ever revealing yourself. Truthfully, Guest hadn't ever seen anything he could call a body- at least not one whole, complete body. No, but he could see the parts of you.

-You were some piece of machinery left behind long ago, you reminded him of some of the underground communication tunnels he'd heard of before. There were long, sprawling bundles of wires that traveled throughout the wide system of caverns you called home, spiraling overhead and on either side of him. There were some electrical panels scattered here and there, "strangely" corroded shut (he'd tried to open them up one of the first times he'd come down there, wanting to get a better idea of how big the site was, only for you to give him one nasty shock, enough he never dared touching them again, if only for his heart's sake.) and a few control panels that'd long since fried, leaving doors sealed shut for the time being.

-In addition to those, there were speakers. Speakers and cameras nestled every nook, meaning he was never out of your sight for long. Though, he suspected that didn't matter. You seemed to have some way of just feeling where he was, enough to make his skin crawl.

-He'd stumbled down here once, hiding away from some other threat that'd chased him into the area. It wasn't his favorite place, but your cave-site seemed to attract few visitors. In all the time he'd spent down here looking for anything of value, he'd never seen so much as a mouse. Something you'd scoffed at when he pointed it out.

"What? Do you think I just let pests run around in my body? Oh, you're lucky I even let you wander around in here."

-He'd only meant to find some little off-shoot to hide in just in case he was followed down here, somewhere he could sit and catch his breath for a minute. You, of course, just had to ruin that for him.

-He'd felt it before you even did anything, heard the squealing feedback of the speakers picking up the faintest sound from you- laughter. Then, the lightbulb above him flickered out without so much as a click. Then the one ahead of it, then the ones on either side of that, all in a coordinated line until it was pitch black. It was then he remembered just how cold these caverns could be.

Guest shot up, stumbling up off the floor to look down either side of the hall, being met with nothingness in either direction. He could guess which way would take him back to the ladder out of here, but that was just it- he could guess. He had no idea which way was the way out, could barely remember how many turns he'd made to get here in the first place.

"Oh relax, you aren't afraid of the dark are you?" Your voice came crooning through the static, crackling under the weight of your presence.

"Cut it out and turn the lights back on. I have to get back to the cabin, they'll come looking for me."

"Well, you see I'd love to but um... I just can't seem to get them to! Ah, electricity can be so finicky, you know?" Guest could hear how you smiled, could hear just how much fun you were already having with this game of yours.

"But- I'm feeling generous. I'll help you get out of here, I know the path by heart. I mean, I've got every inch of this place memorized, I'm probably the best director you've got! All you need to do is just follow my instructions and you'll be right on home, Scott free."

"What's the catch?"

"Aw, you think so little of me! Truly, I'm hurt. If you don't want my help, well.. that's fine. I don't mind your company, but..." You took a breath, pushing the sharpness of your tone to his throat, "I don't think I can say the same for your friends, if they come looking for you."

Guest stiffened at that, glaring down the glowing dot of a nearby camera. He could feel you staring right back at him, waiting for his next move idly. You had all the time in the world and, with your threat, he couldn't say the same. It was only a matter of time before someone would follow his footsteps here and invite themselves into your home.

"Fine. Just get me out of here."

You'd hissed a laugh, something low and croaky, "That's the spirit."

-For what it was worth, you didn't mess with him much. You just gave him directions, whether they were accurate or not he wouldn't know until he reached the exit. The path itself seemed normal enough, no tripwire or bear traps waiting for him to pass through, just the same crumbling floors and scratchy walls by his side. The only real distinction he could make is that this was definitely longer than the way he'd taken, even when accounting for adrenaline blurring his sense of time.

-Strangely though, as he got further and further, there was something he noticed. It wasn't tangible, not in the sense he could reach out and blindly identify it, but it was there. It grew more and more intense with every corridor and turn, taking up more and more of the already limited air. It was hot. Not a dry heat like there was a fire nearby, but humid.

-At first he imagined it could just be the atmosphere, if it weren't for the fact he hadn't gone any deeper- certainly not enough to warrant it being this hot in the first place. You knew about it though- You watched him squirm with glee. He didn't have enough energy to ask, to choke it out with the finite oxygen he was wasting by panting, but when he pulled at his collar, desperate for some relief, you'd just laughed. First you stifled it, but once you noticed his lack of questioning, you made no such effort, fully cackling at his misery.

It wasn't much longer before he snapped.

"This isn't a joke anymore. I don't know what kind of game you're playing here, but I don't want any part in it. If you're just gonna waste my time, I'll find my own way-"

"You're here."

He stopped suddenly, startled by your dull insertion. All the fight left him as soon as he'd mustered it up. He could only stare forward, dimly making out the silhouette of a doorway. He tried for words, lamely whispered that there wasn't supposed to be one here, this wasn't the exit, where did you take him-

"Come in."

He stood for a few seconds longer, waiting for something to jump out at him, for this suspense to finally drop. Nothing came, he was left with silence, staring in the darkness. Finally, he stumbled forward, carefully padding through the doorway and into the room. If it was hot before, it was boiling now. He could hear the faint whir of electricity, humming in the walls and all around him. If this cave was your body, this had to be the heart.

"You know, you're probably my favorite, eh ... subject, to come down here," something reached out, distinctly spindly and with sharp copper tendrils that poked into the skin of his cheek, "I'm just so curious about you, you're just so different from the others."

Guest was too busy processing everything to think too hard on what you were saying, stuck on the very few syllables that reached him. The heat was suffocating, moreso than whatever force he could feel looming over him. He tried to arch his neck, attempting to meet its your gaze and found nothing but black.

"You're just waiting for some direction, for someone to guide you, point you like a weapon ready to blow. That's why you come here, isn't it? Why you're the one scavenging? You just can't bear to watch the others risk themselves when you're just so expendable, a loyal hound."

He could feel it now, a warm brush against his face like air. Something breathing.

"You know, you and I aren't so different. I was like you once, perfect for my purpose. But now, now I am something much more grand- more powerful than anything anyone could ever dream of commanding. You could grow, could make so much more of yourself if you just let go. I could lead you there, you'd be right by my side all the way there."

Distantly, something screeched open.

"You don't have to be a stray forever, doomed to die alone."

He breathed sharply, holding it until it burned.

"Just say the word."

"Guest? Are you there?" Someone yelled, echoey and far away. Through the distance, Guest could still tell it was Elliot. His blood ran cold, he ran out of time.

"Go," you let go of him, all the warmth leaving him and replacing itself with a bitter, piercing cold.

Guest whipped around on his heel, stumbling over in his haste and scrambling back the way he came. The lights were still gone, leaving him smashing into walls and corners until his body stung. There was nothing in his mind other than getting Elliot out of here-

As soon as he spotted him, he pushed him back towards the ladder, ignoring his questions and protest in favor of leaving. The cold metal of the ladder soothed his hands, making his chest twist with something distantly, disturbingly familiar. It was only when the lid over the ladder down was slid back into place that he could breath, gulping down air. Elliot was quiet, unsettled by Guest's lack of response.

They hung there for a few moments longer before Guest managed to compose himself, back to some kind of normalcy. At least on the outside, inside he was still somewhere else, toiling over what you'd said. The words played on repeat in his mind, joined by the ghost of your hand.

"Let's go," Guest started, already starting to walk away. Elliot could only stare at his back, wondering what'd gotten into him, what could've caused that look in his eye when he'd first found him. After a few beats, he followed after him in silence.

[ducksido]

Hello hello, love your writing :)

Could we have some interactions with the overblot boys and a reader who is terrified of spiders? Like, there's a spider in Ramshackle, and y/n either wants them to kill it or hide in their dorm.

-🐁 anon

Riddle Rosehearts

"It's just a spider—wait, Yuu? Are you...crying?"

You had been frozen mid-step in the common room, eyes locked on a massive, hairy spider crawling up the wall. The second Riddle walked in, you let out a trembling, “Get it. Get it right now or I’m sleeping outside.”

Riddle, assuming it was something serious, followed your trembling finger. "...That?" He tried to lecture you—something about rational fears and the spider being more afraid of you than you are of it—but you started tearing up.

“Oh Great Seven—fine! Stand back. I’ll eliminate it.”

He whacked it with a rolled-up rulebook. Then cast Flame just to be sure. You’re not sure if it was necessary, but hey. It’s dead. He ends up brewing calming tea for you and even checks the rest of Ramshackle for more eight-legged threats—just in case.

Leona Kingscholar

“You’re making that face over a bug?”

You practically tackled him the moment he entered the dorm. “There’s a spider the size of a hand in my room. Kill it. Please.”

Leona squinted at you like you’d just asked him to wrestle a ghost. “Seriously? You’ve survived overblots, and this is what takes you out?”

He sauntered into your room, not even flinching as he picked up a boot and squashed it in one motion. He didn’t even look.

“Done. You owe me a nap.”

You’re still shaking. He sighs, grabs your hand, and pulls you onto the couch with him. “Next time, just call Jack. He likes bugs.” He smirks when you bury your face in his shoulder.

Azul Ashengrotto

“W-What do you want me to do?! It’s got legs, Yuu!”

You screamed so loud Azul almost dropped the Mostro Lounge daybooks. The cause? A wolf spider on your kitchen counter.

He tried to play it cool. “Oh? A spider? Surely you’re overreact—OH GREAT SEVEN THAT’S HUGE.”

Neither of you wants to get close. You throw a shoe. It misses. He throws a contract. It flutters uselessly to the floor.

Eventually, Jade wanders in and plucks the spider up like it’s a pet, smiling. Azul covers his eyes. You cling to him like he’s a teddy bear.

Azul does start offering a pest control contract later though. For “future arachnid-related trauma,” he says. You consider it.

Jamil Viper

“Yuu—wait, did you say spider?”

You sprint into Scarabia like your life depends on it, grabbing Jamil by the arm and gasping, “There’s a spider in my sink. I can’t sleep there. I’ll scream. I did scream. It’s staring at me.”

Jamil freezes. “…Spider?” You nod, wide-eyed. He visibly pales.

“Nope. No. Uh-uh,” he mutters, subtly backing away like the spider might teleport into the room. “I—I hate those things. They’ve got too many legs. They move wrong.”

But you’re practically vibrating with fear, and his instincts to take care of you override his own phobia.

“Okay. Fine. We’re doing this. Together. Like survivors.”

You both head back to Ramshackle armed with a broom, a dustpan, and three bug sprays. Jamil’s got the broom out like a sword and sends you to “watch his back.”

You both shriek when it moves. Eventually, he traps it under a bowl and throws the whole thing out the window—with magic. Not touching it. Not today.

You both collapse on the couch, traumatized but victorious.

“No one tells Kalim,” he pants. You nod. Solidarity.

Later, he sneaks lemongrass into your windows... and his own. Just in case.

Vil Schoenheit

“It had how many eyes?”

You screamed and nearly fainted on the spot, pointing at a dark blob skittering across your hallway. Vil arrived in dramatic fashion, cape swishing, heels clicking.

“Did someone die?!” he asked. “No,” you whispered, clutching his arm. “Worse. It has eight legs.”

Vil sighed like you just told him you got gum in your hair during a photoshoot. He snapped his fingers. Rook came in with precision aim and caught the spider under a glass.

“It’s handled, mon lapin. But do please let me gift you with proper home pest-repellents. And maybe a self-defense class.”

You end up with eucalyptus oil sachets and a personal spider evacuation bell.

Idia Shroud

“K-Kill it yourself!! I’m not a tank character IRL!!”

You Facetime him in tears. “I’m gonna die. There’s a spider the size of a tarantula guarding my closet.”

Idia, in his dark room surrounded by screens, gapes at you.

“A spider boss?! No way I’m coming in there! I’m not built for this!”

But you threaten to delete your friendship file in his system. So he panics, puts on like three layers of clothes, gloves, and a helmet, and tiptoes into Ramshackle like it’s a horror game.

Eventually, he vacuum traps the thing after a lot of squealing.

You reward him with snacks. He proudly tells Ortho he’s officially “levelled up IRL bravery stat +1.”

Malleus Draconia

“Ah. A child of the earth. Curious.”

You scream so loud he teleports in. “What dark force has dared to—oh. It’s...a spider.”

You cling to him. "Please. Kill it. Burn it. I don’t care."

He tilts his head, watching the tiny creature crawl up the fireplace. “Where I come from, spiders are symbols of good luck. But if it frightens you…”

He gently scoops it into his palm with magic, opens the window, and lets it go. “You are safe now, Child of Man.”

You’re not sure if you’re touched or horrified. He notices your shaken breath and holds you close, murmuring ancient fae lullabies until your heart slows again.

[harunayuuka2060]

WHB Series #1 (Cont.)

MC: *wearing a face mask* Let's get down to business so I can leave this place early.

Belphegor: ...

Belphegor: *smiles* You're straightforward.

MC: Nah, I doubt you'd be interested in making a conversation at all.

Belphegor: *still smiling* Beleth, you take it from here.

Beleth: Okay, Your Majesty.

Beleth: *clears his throat* *unfurls a map of Niflheim in front of them*

Beleth: You see the red marks, descendant of Solomon?

MC: Yes.

Beleth: Angels are swarming these places.

MC: Ah, so you want me to do some pest control?

Beleth and Belphegor: ...

Belphegor: *chuckles*

MC: *sigh* You devils won't give me a break. *grabs the map and heads straight to the door*

Beleth: Wait! Wouldn't you need an escort?

MC: ...

MC: *looks at the other devils present: Gusion, Bathin, and Harumon*

MC: ...

MC: I'll take the coward cat.

Harumon: Hey! I'm no coward!

MC: ...

MC: Is that a young devil?

Harumon: Young devil? Where?

MC: He's hiding behind that rubble.

Harumon: But descendant of Solomon! No one's living in this place now!

MC: *yells* Oi, kid! What are you doing there?

MC: ...

Harumon: ...

MC: *clicks their tongue* He's shy. *approaches the 'young devil'*

MC: Hey, why are you hiding?

Harumon: ...

Harumon: Who are they talking to?

MC: Huh. What's his name?

MC: Oi, Harumon. Do you know someone called 'Andrealphus'?

Harumon: Yes! He's one of us!

MC: *points* This boy's saying he's his twin.

Harumon: !!!

MC: So you're telling me that I possibly met a ghost.

Beleth: Yes, it could be. You're the only one who can see him.

Bathin: Can you draw what he looks like? We need to confirm if it's the twin of Andrealphus.

MC: What a bother. Someone give me a notepad.

*after a few minutes*

MC: Does that confirm it?

Beleth: Yep, no doubt.

MC: ...

MC: Great. So I can see ghosts now.

MC: ?

Beleth: What is it, descendant of Solomon?

MC: *unamused* He's sitting on my lap.

Gabriel: How could you insult god like this?!

Raphael: It's the truth, Gabriel. God has returned.

Michael: ...

Michael: How were you able to tell?

Raphael: I tasted their blood. There's no way I'm mistaken.

Michael: ...

Gabriel: *fuming in anger*

Michael: In that case, why didn't you bring them?

Raphael: They are worried that none of you would believe them.

Raphael: *his face turned serious*

Raphael: Now seeing your reactions, proves that they're right.

Gabriel: Should I just kill you right now, Raphael?

Michael: ...

Michael: Calm down, Gabriel.

Michael: This could be our lead. Regardless, Solomon definitely did something.

Gabriel and Raphael: ...

Michael: Aside from the information you've got, do you have anything else, Raphael?

Raphael: ...

Raphael: *smiles* God has considered me their most beloved seraph.

Gabriel: *fumes in anger*

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Hate

TRIANGULAR THEORY OF HATE

Typically hate is thought of as a single emotion. 

But there is reason to believe that hate has multiple components that can manifest themselves in different ways on different occasions. 

According to a triangular component of the duplex theory of hate, hate potentially comprises 3 components. 

As with love, hate can be captured by both feelings triangles and action triangles. 

Feelings may or may not translate themselves into actions, and actions may or may not represent genuine feelings. 

People may interpret actions as meaning different things, depending on their mappings of feelings into actions and vice versa. 

There are 3 components of hate: negation of intimacy, passion, and commitment.

Negation of intimacy - involves the pursuit of distance, often because the hated individual arouses repulsion and disgust.

Passion - expresses itself as intense anger or fear in response to a threat.

Commitment - is characterized by cognitions of devaluation and diminution through contempt for the targeted group.

The 3 components give rise to 7 different types of hate (plus non-hate), based on the particular combination of aspects involved:

Non-hate: No feelings of hate (none of negation of intimacy, passion, or commitment)

Cool hate: Disgust (disgust of negation of intimacy alone)

Hot hate: Anger/Fear (anger/fear of passion alone)

Cold hate: Devaluation/Diminution (devaluation/diminution of decision/commitment alone)

Boiling hate: Revulsion (disgust of negation of intimacy + anger/fear of passion)

Simmering hate: Loathing (disgust of negation of intimacy + devaluation/diminution of decision/commitment)

Seething hate: Revilement (anger/fear of passion + devaluation/diminution of decision/commitment)

Burning hate: Need for annihilation (disgust of negation of intimacy + anger/fear of passion + devaluation/diminution of decision/commitment)

THEORY OF HATE AS A STORY

The theory of hate as a story proposes that hate emerges from different kinds of stories. Some of the most common stories, deriving from the work of Sam Keene, Anthony Rhodes, Robert Zajonc, and others, are:

Stranger (vs. in-group) - Negation of Intimacy + Commitment

Impure-other (vs. pure in-group) - N

Controller (vs. controlled) - C

Faceless foe (vs. individuated in-group) - C

Enemy of God (vs. servant of God) - Passion + C

Morally bankrupt (vs. morally sound) - N + C

Death (vs. life) - N + C

Barbarian (vs. civilized in-group) - N + P + C

Greedy enemy (vs. financially responsible in-group) - N + C

Criminal (vs. innocent party) - C

Torturer (vs. victim) - N + P + C

Murderer (vs. victim) - N + P + C

Seducer/rapist (vs. victim) - N + P + C

Animal-pest (vs. human) - N + P

Power-crazed (vs. mentally balanced) - C

Subtle-infiltrator (vs. infiltrated) - C

Comic-character (vs. sensible in-group) - C

Thwarter/destroyer of destiny (vs. seeker of destiny) - C

Instigation of hate covers roughly 5 steps. Not all steps need to occur in order for hate to come into being. Indeed, even one step may start the process. The steps are:

The target is revealed to be anathema.

The target plans actions contrary to the interests of the in-group.

The target makes its presence felt.

The target translates plans into action.

The target is achieving some success in its goals.

Finally, perception becomes reality.

There may be elements of truth in some stories.

Example: A particular opponent may be loathsome in any number of ways.

But the power of stories is that their perception becomes, for the individual experiencing the stories, reality.

The individual typically does not question whether a given story is true. For him or her, it simply is true.

Sources: 1 2 ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References

Writing Notes: Love Click "Keep reading" for more examples. Warning: Very long text.

taxonomy of types of hate

The three components of hate generate, in various combinations, seven different types of hate. They are probably not exhaustive, and, because they represent limiting cases, are not mutually exclusive. Particular instances may straddle categories.

Non-Hate. Strangers on the street are likely to fall into this category, as may members of one’s family or one’s friends. But family members may arouse mixed emotions, so there is the possibility that some degree of hate exists toward family members, even coactively with feelings of love. In a healthy society (and a healthy person), most feelings one has toward other people are non-hate.

Cool Hate: Disgust. Cool hate is characterized by feelings of disgust toward the targeted group. The hater wishes to have nothing to do with the targeted group. Members of the targeted group may be viewed as subhuman, perhaps as vermin of some kind or as garbage. Visceral prejudice may be expressed as cool hate. The Sidney Poitier movie Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner depicted the visceral reaction of disgust of parents of a White woman who brought a Black man (her new beau) home to have dinner with her parents. Because the main feeling is a “cool” one, the reaction may be one of aversion rather than confrontation.

Hot Hate: Anger/Fear. Hot hate is characterized by extreme feelings of anger and/or fear toward a threat, and the reaction may be to run away or to attack (flight or fight). Sudden flare-ups of hate, such as road rage, are examples of hot hate. Gang members may kill others if they feel disrespected by the comments or even gestures of others. Riots often are accompanied by hot hate. People who feel only cool hate most of the time may be provoked and stirred up by the passion of the moment and find their hate converting into hot hate. The conversion may be short-lived. After the mutual egging on of the riot is over, those involved in it may revert to feelings of cool hate.

Cold Hate: Devaluation/Diminution. Cold hate is characterized by thoughts of unworthiness directed toward the target group. There is something wrong with the members of this group. Indoctrination often portrays the group as evil, as in Ronald Reagan’s conjuring up of the “Evil Empire” in referring to the former Soviet Union. This kind of use of metaphor invokes a number of free associations, all of which are stereotypically negative. The indoctrination may be against any group – Communists or capitalists in the Cold War (which was “cold” in more ways than one). Cold hate can be instilled even among those who have never encountered members of the target group. For example, it is not uncommon to find anti-Semitism or anti-Islamic cognitions among people who have never actually met a Jew or a Muslim. People are often unaware of their own cold hate. It is simply too much a part of who they are and how they were brought up. The cold hate may lie dormant unless the people are forced or inadvertently come into contact with members of a hated group.

Boiling Hate: Revulsion. Boiling hate is characterized by feelings of revulsion toward the targeted group. The group may be viewed as subhuman or inhuman and as a threat, and something must be done to reduce or eliminate the threat. The targeted group may change from time to time. In the earlier stages of the Third Reich, the Soviet Union was perceived as bad and revolting. Then, when Hitler made a pact with Stalin, the Soviet Union was perceived as good. Then, later, it was perceived as bad again. There was no sense of permanent commitment to any belief about the Soviet Union and Soviets. Negative intimacy and passion were instilled with a distinct absence of commitment. The change was later captured in George Orwell’s novel, 1984, where the identity of the enemy changed from one day or even one moment to another, and people were expected to adapt their hatreds to those chosen for them at any given moment by the government.

Simmering Hate: Loathing. Simmering hate is characterized by feelings of loathing toward the hated target. The targeted individual/s may be viewed as disgusting and as likely always to remain this way. There is no particular passion, just a simmering of hate. Ruthless, calculated assassinations often take this form. There is nothing sudden about such assassinations, which may be planned over periods of time, as Lee Harvey Oswald’s assassination of President Kennedy apparently was. Alfred Hitchcock’s movie Strangers on a Train depicts an individual who has felt simmering hate over a long period of time, and has devised a plan to have a murder committed without his actually having directly to take part in it.

Seething Hate: Revilement. Seething hate is characterized by feelings of revilement toward the targeted individual/s. Such individuals are a threat and always have been. Planned mob violence, often preceded by fiery oratory, sometimes takes on the characteristics of seething hate. The goal is to arouse the mob to violence, as in the Krystallnacht, where mobs were sent to destroy shops of Jewish shopkeepers who were portrayed as seeking to destroy the economy of Germany. In these cases, the targeted group may be portrayed not as subhuman but as more than human, for example, as being engaged in a worldwide plot of domination or conquest. Fears among U.S. militia groups of black helicopters sent by the forces of world government show this kind of hate. The enemy is not subhuman, but superhuman in its massive organization and conspiracy to take over the world. The Left Behind series of novels, portraying a world very loosely based on the biblical book of Revelations, describes the efforts of the Anti-Christ and his allies to take over the world and the people in it.

Burning Hate: Need for annihilation. Burning hate is characterized by all three components of hate. The haters may feel a need to annihilate their enemy, as postulated by Kernberg (1993) for extreme forms of hate. Some years back, Eli´an Gonzalez, a Cuban boy who was found clinging to a boat off the shores of Florida, was seized from his Miami relatives by the U.S. government. There were massive demonstrations in Miami, Florida, and Union City, New Jersey, as well as elsewhere, against Fidel Castro and the U.S. government, which was seen as in league with Castro. The outpouring of hate was powerful. The targeted group may be viewed as diabolical destroyers, and indeed, a poster shown on CNN depicted then Attorney-General Janet Reno with the horns of the Devil.

relations of the components of hate to terrorism, massacres, and genocides

The triangular theory of the structure of hate speculatively holds that hate is related to terrorism, massacres, and genocides through the number of components of hate experienced.

Danger Level 0: No Hate-Based Danger, results when none of the components of hate is present.

Danger Level 1: Mild Hate-Based Danger, results when one of the components of hate is present.

Danger Level 2: Moderate Hate-Based Danger, results when two of the components of hate are present.

Danger Level 3: Severe Hate-Based Danger, results when three of the components of hate are present.

Massacres and genocides are much more likely to result, arguably, when all three components are present. They are also a product of stories.

stories underlying the development of hate

The Stranger Story. The hated enemy is a stranger. Propaganda typically shows the object of hate as very strange looking. One Nazi propaganda poster shows a Jew with a Star of David tattooed on his forehead, with evil-looking squinting eyes, with a grossly asymmetrical face, with a twisted lip and a double chin, and with large ears notably sticking out from his head. No one can look at this poster and identify with the individual depicted: He is a stranger. We usually think of strangers as people we do not know and never have known. But they need not be. Often the stranger is someone who is familiar to us, and whom we thought we knew, but who, on reexamination, now appears to be someone else – someone strange and perhaps incomprehensible. The stranger story can apply to interpersonal relationships. We may be in a relationship with a partner whom we think we know quite well. Then we discover, to our astonishment, that the partner is having an affair, or has a sizable private bank account that he or she has hidden for many years. The person whom we thought we knew well may now come to seem like an utter stranger, and we may find ourselves wondering what other things about the partner that may be detrimental to our well-being he or she has not revealed.

The Impure Other Story. The hated enemy is impure or contaminated. Typically, the enemy is trying to spread this contamination. The enemy must be stopped before the contamination gets out of control (or to stop contamination that already is out of control). The euphemism “ethnic cleansing” may call to mind images of an enemy that needs to be eliminated from a society that otherwise would be pure in much the same way dirt needs to be eliminated from holy relics. In a close relationship, hate may be generated by the discovery that the partner has been contaminated, as by an extramarital affair or a disfiguring disease. In some societies, it is sufficient for a woman to be raped for her elimination to seem necessary to certain men with this story. The woman now is no longer viewed as pure and therefore may be seen as having ceased to serve her purpose. Curiously, and with unabashed sexism, the impurity applies only to the wronged female, not the male who wronged her.

The Controller Story. The hated enemy is trying to control you and perhaps the world. One German propaganda poster shows a Jew riding on top of the shoulders of Roosevelt, Churchill, and Stalin, who is knee-deep in water. The only happy face in the poster is that of the Jew on top. Stories, such as the controller story, may have elements of truth. For example, the Sunnis in Iraq, although a minority, controlled the country for a long time. Some of them built up a system of oppression and repression that was, although brutal toward all Iraqis, especially arbitrary and invidious toward Shiites (Ghosh, 2007). But the stories may also be completely false, as when a group is targeted as controlling a society when in fact they are powerless and persecuted.

The Faceless Foe Story. The hated enemy has no face and indeed has few distinguishing human characteristics. For example, one political cartoon shows a dozen Soviet leaders who all look exactly the same, and have few, if any, distinguishing human characteristics. They are faceless and indistinguishable from each other. In a close relationship, one may reconceptualize one’s partner as faceless – as ordinary – and feel one’s love dissipate and even turn into hate if one feels tricked into having (previously) believed that the partner was special. Sometimes, perpetrators seek to be faceless. Torturers may hide their identities so that their victims cannot later identify them. Other times, victims are made to be faceless. Bombardiers may find it easier to destroy a whole town from an aircraft because, to them, the enemy is faceless.

The Enemy of God Story. The hated enemy is not only your enemy, but also, an enemy of God. The stories, as tends to be the case historically, are created by cynical and destructive individuals who seek to use others as their tools for wreaking havoc and destruction. This story can apply to individuals in intimate relationships in which one or both are religious. If one of the partners comes to be perceived by the other as having committed a mortal sin, then a loving relationship can turn to hate as the couple struggles with the (perceived) sin of the blamed partner. In a religion story of love, a reconceptualization of the partner as of the Devil rather than of God can suddenly turn love into hate.

The Moral Bankruptcy Story. The hated enemy is immoral or must be eliminated on moral grounds (as proposed by Zajonc, 2000). The enemy is doing immoral things, such as praying to the wrong god or gods, or to no god at all. Or the enemy is defiling holy sites or simply insulting the morality of God or humans by its very existence. During the Salem witch craze, one excuse for the elimination of alleged witches was their immoral pact with Satan. In close relationships, a spouse who comes to be viewed as immoral may be hated on account of the alleged immorality.

The Death Story. The hated enemy represents death. One Italian propaganda photo shows the Statue of Liberty carrying its torch and igniting a city. At the same time, it is taking off its mask to reveal a skull underneath. Enemies often do represent death. For example, the Janjaweed militias in contemporary Sudan come as close to representing death as any destroyers can. But these militias, following historical patterns, portray themselves as protecting the lives that are “worth” protecting, and the civilization that they claim to represent.

The Barbarian Story. The hated enemy represents a barbarian. Rome was eventually overthrown by enemies that the Romans viewed as barbarians. Today, the world faces attacks on many fronts from enemies viewed as barbarians. The barbarians, in turn, are likely to view those they attack as morally decadent and themselves as saviors coming to sweep away the decadence they believe they see among those they attack.

The Greedy Enemy Story. The hated enemy is exceptionally greedy. When gasoline prices reached high levels in the United States, one oil company produced a greater profit than any U.S. company in the history of the country. A CEO had just retired from this company with an exceptionally generous retirement package. The problem is that sometimes hated objects act in ways that promote rather than destroy the story that they would wish to have dissociated from them.

The Criminal Story. The hated enemy is a criminal, and needs to be dealt with as such. The hated person or group may have stolen something away from one, such as a loved one or some object of value. Propaganda photos frequently are made to look like wanted posters. One such poster from World War II, produced in the United States, shows Hideki Tojo, Prime Minister of Japan during World War II, in such a wanted poster. In a close relationship, discovering criminal behavior on the part of one’s partner may turn love into hate, especially if the criminal behavior is directed toward oneself. The behavior need not be legally criminal. If one perceives it as morally criminal, that may be enough to generate this story.

The Torturer Story. The hated enemy is a torturer. Some propaganda posters show actual portraits of individuals who have been tortured by enemies. In a close relationship, one may come to conceive of one’s partner as a torturer, and come to feel hate rather than love toward the partner. The torturer story is one of the most powerful stories of hate. In modern day Argentina, Chile, South Africa, and other countries, victims and their family are still trying to come to grips with a long history of government perpetrated torture. And attempts are still being made to identify the people responsible for the torture – both the torturers themselves and those who commissioned them to execute the torture.

The Murderer Story. The hated enemy is a murderer. Sometimes actual photographs are used, such as a widely distributed photo of right-wing students hanging and simultaneously hitting a left-wing student over the head with a chair. The right-wing students are smiling and cheering as the act progresses. In a close relationship, sometimes individuals feel that their lives are threatened, literally or symbolically, by their partners, and may come to feel hate rather than love toward their partners.

The Seducer/Rapist Story. The hated enemy is a seducer or a rapist. One German propaganda poster shows an older, ugly Jew seducing a beautiful woman. An American poster shows unclothed women in cages being inspected by Nazi soldiers. In close relationships, an individual (usually a woman) may come to feel that sex is no longer consensual but forced, and may come to experience hate rather than love for the partner. Unfortunately, many hated targets are rapists. Soldiers in war frequently use rape to satisfy their own lust, and to demoralize and humiliate the enemy. Rapes may occur in intimate relationships as well as in any others. They may also occur in families (incest).

The Animal Pest Story. The hated enemy is an animal pest, such as a germ, an insect such as a cockroach, a reptile, or some kind of a beast. One World War II German propaganda poster shows the Jew as a rat, with the heading “Rotten.” A World War II Italian propaganda poster shows the American G.I. as an ape. In a close relationship, one may come to view one’s partner as animal-like – a pig or a rat – and may come to feel hate rather than love for the partner. These stories become more powerful as those who perceive themselves as victims feel that the violations occur on a repeated basis.

The Power Monger Story. The hated enemy is crazed with the lust for power. A World War II German propaganda poster shows Roosevelt embracing the globe, his face crazed with the lust for power. In a close relationship, one may come to view one’s partner as totally absorbed by power aspects of the relationship, and as seeking total domination. One may feel one’s love convert into hate. The leaders of some countries come to be seen as power mongers. Unfortunately, they may act in ways that promote the stereotype. Whatever their intentions, their efforts to combat hate may then be belied by their own actions.

The Subtle Infiltrator Story. The hated enemy is a subtle infiltrator. One British poster shows a group of Army officers talking while a beautiful woman is sitting amongst them, pretending to be “dumb” but listening carefully to all that is said. Stalin used the subtle infiltrator story to induce hate of certain groups. Beginning in 1927, he staged a series of show trials designed to show that various groups were actually subtle infiltrators in league with the enemies of society. For example, managers, engineers, academics of various kinds, people associated with religious movements – all were portrayed as in league with and in the pay of world capitalists to destroy Soviet society (Mace, 1997). Similar stories are still used today to target individuals and groups.

The Comic Character Story. The hated enemy is a comic character. During World War II, American comic books often portrayed comical Nazi soldiers as being demolished by American super-heroes. A Walt Disney cartoon showed Donald Duck throwing a tomato at the face of a comical Adolph Hitler. Charlie Chaplin played a comic Hitler as well. Nazi propaganda portrayed Jewish women as fat, ugly, and stupid. In a close relationship, one may come to view one’s partner as a comic figure – as a buffoon or a fool – and feel one’s love turn into hate. This story may be less effective in inducing hate than some of the other stories, because it is likely to instill neither anger nor fear. Indeed, it may lead people to view a threat as less serious than it is, and, because of its comical portrayal, to dismiss any danger the threat poses.

The Thwarter/Destroyer-of-Destiny Story. The enemy is hated because of its role in thwarting or destroying a certain destiny. For example, the murderer of a loved one may be hated because the murderer has destroyed what should have been the destiny both of the loved one and of the one who has offered the love.

structure of the stories of hate

Because the stories of hate tend to be simple, some people might prefer to view them simply as negative stereotypes, or as negative images of the enemy.

Why use the story concept at all? Because, arguably, each is associated with an anticipated set of events.

The key point is that the threat represents a dynamic story, not just a static image or stereotype.

Whereas stereotypes tend to be somewhat one-dimensional, immobile, and static over time, stories are multidimensional, fluid, and changeable over time.

1. The Target Is Revealed to be Anathema At some point, often long in the past (and probably more often than not, in the imagined past), the target reveals itself to be worthy of hatred. Perhaps members of the group killed God, or slaughtered members of what is now the in-group, or plotted the destruction of the in-group, or revealed themselves to be dirty or greedy or whatever. Although the events giving rise to the groups’ being labeled as anathema may have occurred long ago, they can remain in a metaphorical sort of Jungian “collective unconscious.” In some cases, the events may never have occurred at all. They may merely be imagined to have occurred, such as when they are part of an oral history of dubitable validity.

2. The Target Plans Actions Contrary to the Interests of the In-Group One may not become aware of this problem right away. But at some point, one becomes aware that for some time, often a long time, the target has been planning actions contrary to the best (and often, any good) interests of the in-group. Whatever the problem is, it is no longer historical in nature; it is current. Because members of the in-group often do not realize they have been “plotted against” until what they perceive to be rather late in the plotting process, they may feel a sense of desperation and urgency. Of course, in many instances, the planned actions are imaginary, which does not make them any less “real” psychologically to those who are being manipulated into hating the members of the target group.

3. The Target Makes Its Presence Felt The story often first becomes perceptible when the target appears significantly on the scene. The target may come from outside, either legally (through legal immigration) or illegally (through illegal immigration, invasion, or imposition by outside powers). But the target also may come from inside. Perhaps it has been there a long time. Indeed, people often feel that they were blinded, and that only now are they realizing the threat that has been there for some time. Now the target is becoming powerful, and hence is becoming a force to be reckoned with, before it is too late. Stalin was notorious for devising elaborate plots that were alleged to have been hatched against the government, which had no more reality than the proverbial will o’ the wisp.

4. The Target Translates Plans into Action Members of the in-group believe they are becoming aware that the period of plotting is over for the target. The target is actively translating thought into action, and thus has become a true threat, not just a hypothetical one. Sometimes the action is now perceived to be already quite far along before individuals realize what is going on; other times the action is perceived to be just starting up. The exact type of action depends on the content of the story. In many instances, the only action is that of the perpetrators against the targets, who were never planning any action in any event. Enemies of God actively work against God. Beasts cause wanton destruction. Rapists, of course, rape men, women, and children. Subtle infiltrators covertly try to take things over. Thwarters of destiny try to make sure that the in-group cannot achieve the goals it deserves to achieve. In each case, the target group works against the in-group. What differs is how they achieve their goals. Often, they may achieve their goals in multiple ways through multiple stories.

5. The Target Is Achieving Some Success in Its Goals Unsuccessful targets may be viewed as pathetic, such as members of very small groups that have dreams of taking over the world. But once the target is not only acting, but achieving some success in its actions, feelings of hatred and perhaps the desire to act upon these feelings become a force to be reckoned with. In sum, the images, in themselves, are the contents that fill in the story schema. In a sense, the precise story is less important than how many of the above steps the target group has (in the minds of the in-group) managed to enact. The more steps the target group enacts, the more of a threat they become, and the “hotter” the hate is likely to be (i.e., the more the number of components that are likely to be operative).

mapping to the triangle of hate

Different stories are likely to induce different components of hate, but which are induced probably depends in part upon the person.

Consider a few examples:

Stories of individuals or groups as vermin or as impure are likely to induce negation of intimacy.

Stories of individuals or groups as murderers or rapists are “hot” and thus are likely to induce passion.

Stories of individuals or groups as greedy or as dominators are “cooler” and thus are more likely to induce commitment.

the relation of hate to love

Often, love is viewed incorrectly as the opposite of hate.

They are thought to constitute just one single dimension on which a person can move from love to hate, from hate to love, and so forth.

Hate is neither the opposite nor the absence of love. Rather, the relationship between love and hate is multifaceted.

Therefore, love and hate can exist at the same time in the same person with regard to the same object.

The opposite of love is rather indifference.

Hate and love have a lot in common. Both involve very intense emotions and attraction of a certain kind.

Love and hate both have three components, which are interrelated.

In one case, the components are inverses of each other. In the other two cases, they are actually the same, but are experienced differently.

Different people have different combinations of these components so, structurally, may experience hate (or love) differently.

The stories of love are also susceptible to turning. Consider some of the stories of love, and how they can contain within them the seeds of destruction:

1. Addiction. An addiction story involves one partner’s feeling addicted to the other, or less frequently, both partners feeling addicted to each other. Addictions are usually, in themselves, love–hate relationships. One feels bound to something or someone, but feels also one’s freedom to escape is restricted. Feelings of love especially can turn to hate if one feels that one’s addiction is self-destructive, as when one feels an addiction toward someone who is abusive toward oneself or others.

2. Business. In a business story, two people essentially view each other as investments, much like they might invest in people in any other business. The difference is that this is a particularly important investment. A business story succeeds by virtue of both partners feeling that the business is equitable and works to their mutual advantage. But if the business goes bad – one partner makes poor decisions that lead to financial or other forms of distress, or if one partner proves to be untrustworthy, the relationship can go bad rather quickly, and turn love to hate.

3. Fantasy. In a fantasy story, the partners view each other much the way characters would in a fairy tale. The success of a fantasy story in love typically depends upon the partners respectively occupying the roles of prince and princess, king and queen, or similar roles. But just as frogs can change to princes, so can princes change to frogs. And just as kings or queens can be perceived as beneficent, so can they be perceived as malevolent or as imperious. The success of the fantasy story thus depends on the partners maintaining positive images in the roles they occupy. Should the images become negative, hate can replace love.

4. Horror. Horror stories are stories based on one partner’s terrorizing the other. Relationships based on horror stories are almost always love–hate relationships to begin with. One is attracted by, and simultaneously repelled by, the abuse that characterizes such relationships. In some cases, the individual who is the object of the terror in such a relationship may come to hate the perpetrator, much as the victim comes to hate the perpetrator in a massacre. There is also a psychological phenomenon called “Stockholm Syndrome,” in which the victim of a hostage-taking develops positive emotions toward the hostage-takers.

5. Mystery. In a mystery story, one partner seems mysterious, and the other acts as a detective trying to solve the mystery. A mystery story gains its interest by virtue of the fascination of one partner with the mystery represented by the other. The individual peels away one layer of mystery after another. But one may find that, at bottom, the story is not a pleasant one. For example, the mystery may be that the partner is exploiting one, or is involved with other people as well. Love can then turn to hate.

6. Travel. In a travel story, two partners travel through life together, trying to the extent possible to stay on the same or at least proximal paths. A travel story can go bad if a partner feels that the other partner has departed from the path they set out together, or has started to regress on the path. If the paths diverge too much, and one partner does not like the path the other is taking, that dislike or even hate may transfer to the partner. This can happen, too, when one of the partners goes through a physical, psychological, or social transformation that changes him or her. When he or she makes new friends his/her partner dislikes or gets on a career trajectory that makes him or her much more successful than the partner and leaves that partner jealous, hate can develop as well.

7. War. In a war story, two partners enjoy fighting with each other. They seem constantly to be at war with each other. Love may turn to hate if the war becomes a serious one, and the partners find that the fights lose whatever good nature they originally may have had. The war story perhaps provides the best transition from a consideration of love to a consideration of hate.

Sources: 1 2 ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References

Writing Notes: Love

[hypewinter]

A continuation of this

It was amazing how interesting the hors d'oeuvre table became when one was avoiding social interaction. Danny pouted as he filled yet another plate with the tiny little snack foods. He should have listened to Mom. She had warned him he wouldn't like the party but he insisted on coming too. But how could he resist? When he heard all the fun stories his uncles told, he wanted to see for himself. And his grandpa had been so happy that he wanted to come too. Danny thought he would be in for a night of excitement especially since he'd be able to stay up past his bedtime yet instead he was currently bored out of his mind. He was also incredibly uncomfortable.

Danny didn't like how all these older people kept coming up to him and asking him weird questions or squeezing his cheeks. His mom and uncles tried to intercept as many people as possible but some people had gotten to him and. Danny didn't complain though as he's the one who wanted to come anywhere and he didn't want to seem like a brat. Plus he was still holding out hope that one of his uncles would do something interesting and if he complained, he might be taken home early.

That's why Danny had taken to avoiding his mom. She was very good at reading him and was even teaching him how to read others. If she saw him it would take 0.2 seconds for her to realize he didn't want to be here anymore. Mom was really nice so she would probably take him back home when she noticed. But Danny was a big boy and big boys suck it up for uncomfortable parties that they begged to attend. Though he still wished Sam were here. Sam? Who's Sam? He couldn't remember. There were a lot of things Danny couldn't remember. Even when he tried really hard to.

"Ah so this is the newest Wayne brat!"

Danny was pulled from his thoughts and looked up to see a man staring down at him. The man's blonde hair was very shiny. Must be full of a lot of that gel Uncle Damian liked to use. But he had put on too much and now his head looked all flat and shiny. But maybe the man liked being shiny since he had a lot of gold jewelry on too.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to stare?" the man said harshly, his lazy brown eyes boring into Danny. His body language was practically screaming How dare you? Better than you. This man seemed to sway quite a lot too. Was he drunk? Mom had warned him to stay away from drunk people but it would be rude to just walk away wouldn't it?

Instead Danny put down his plate and signed, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. You just have really pretty jewelry sir."

The man's glare only intensified. "Huh? Whazzat? Talk damnit!" He began to project annoyance.

Danny furrowed his brows slightly. The man had said a bad word. You're not supposed to say bad words around children. At least that's what Grandpa Alfred had taught him when Uncle Jason got in trouble for saying one near him. It was also frustrating that this man didn't know any sign language.

Nevertheless, Danny pulled out his phone and opened the notes app. He clicked on the first page which read, "I'm sorry, I have limited speech and use sign language to communicate. However I can use this notepad instead." He held it up for the man to read.

Yet again the man didn't seem to be satisfied as he retorted, "You can speak but you choose not to? You're an arrogant little brat aren't you?" Angry. How dare you think you're above me? Uh oh.

Danny quickly scrolled down to a blank space so that he could explain it wasn't like that but he never got the chance. The man snatched the phone from Danny's hands.

"Listen you little turd," the man hissed, leaning in close. It took all the self control in Danny's body not to gag at his breath. "You may think you're all high and mighty just because you got lucky but make no mistake. You're just gutter trash. Just like all the other pests Wayne brought into his household and just like your mother."

Tears pricked at Danny's eyes. That wasn't true. Neither his uncles nor his mother were trash. They were good people. The nicest people ever. They saved Danny from that terrible terrible place and gave him lots of hugs and sweets and warmth. This man didn't know what he was talking about.

The man continued, "You'll do well to respect me as unlike you and your little pretend family, I actually come from a distinguished background. I'm not some orphan from an unknown background whose parents probably sold him for drug money. Do you hear me?" Hostile. Don't mess with me!

"If I tell you to speak to me, you speak to me. Is that clear?" You're beneath me. Know your place.

Danny didn't know how much longer he could keep the tears at bay. Luckily he didn't have to.

"Is there a problem?" There she was. Mom! In all of her glory. Her hair done up in a little bun and dressed in a suit matching his. He had actually picked it out for her.

Danny rushed over to her and clung to her leg. Not trash he projected. My family. Meanwhile, the man's attitude did a complete 180. "Ah Ms. Cassandra it's so nice to see you again! I was just complimenting your little one on how cute his suit looked on him!"

Mom ignored him and looked to Danny instead.

What happened?

Insulted you. Insulted my family. Mean man. Bad man.

Cass gently patted Danny's head. He loved when she did that. Okay now. Don't worry.

Mom turned back to the man. "For someone so much better than everyone, you really like hanging out in the Bowery," she said. I know your secret.

The man stiffened. Does she know? How does she know? "I'm really not sure what you're referring to Ms. Wayne." Nervous. Agitated.

Mom didn't say anything. Just leveled a stare at the man. His smile began slipping in the awkward silence. Panicked. Must leave.

"Well I should probably be going now. I feel like I've had too much to drink. Perhaps I'll go sit down," the man said quickly, excusing himself and disappearing into the crowd.

Once he was out of sight, Cass turned back to Danny. Okay? Danny buried his face into her leg. Wanna go home. In the next moment, Danny felt himself being picked up and cradled in his mother's arms. Let's go home, she portrayed with a smile. Danny desperately clung to her suit as his bottom lip wobbled.

"Sorry," he whispered. He wanted her to know he really meant it. That he was truly sorry.

He felt a kiss be planted on his forehead. "Don't be," Mom replied. Danny wrapped his arms around her neck and closed his eyes, finally letting the tears he'd been holding at bay fall. He took in the warmth and love his mother showered over him. His family wasn't trash. They were his saviors.

[eeniey-past-bedtime]

Tangled in Bloom

A/N: I hardly see fairies either, i get the charm with bigger and better but sometimes i giggle at a cutie patootie wanting to beat me up but they can't- our size doesn't let them. Speakin of them- this is gender neutral so everyone can enjoy ♡

.

..

The first time you met Sylvian, you thought someone had spilled a jar of sunlight across the forest floor.

No — not sunlight. Color. A shimmering riot of purples, pinks, and golds, all wrapped up in one infuriatingly beautiful, infuriatingly sassy fairy. His wings, gossamer and streaked with hues like a wild orchid in full bloom, caught the light with every dramatic flick of his wrist.

"And who might you be," Sylvian had said, the words curling off his tongue, hands perched on his hips. His violet eyes raked over you in quick, merciless judgment before he clicked his tongue. "Honestly. Walking into my glen without even announcing yourself? The audacity."

From that moment, you were marked.

And not just by the glen's prickly thorns or the bewildering magic of the forest. No — Sylvian had decided you were his, in the same way a cat might decide a particularly intriguing sunbeam belonged to them.

He wasn’t controlling. If anything, he fluttered around you like an overexcited butterfly, offering you bright petals, elaborate spells, or shiny things he’d stolen ("borrowed") from passing travelers. But he got jealous — adorably, pettishly so — whenever anyone else so much as looked your way.

"Who was that?" he demanded one evening, plopping himself onto your shoulder as you walked back to your camp. He weighed nothing, but his presence was as loud as ever, wings whirring irritably.

"That merchant?" you asked, amused. "Just some guy selling trinkets."

"Hmph." Sylvian crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. "He smiled at you. Far too much. Gross, isn't it? Teeth all weird and shiny. Probably a scammer. You’re far too precious for people like that."

"You jealous?" you teased.

He gasped — actually gasped — and flipped around to face you, hands on his hips. "Me? Jealous? Pfft! Don’t be ridiculous! I am above such peasant emotions!"

Then, after a beat, quieter: "...Maybe a little. But only because you're mine."

It wasn’t possessiveness that smothered. It was possessiveness that thrived.

That colored every interaction like the vibrant swirls of his wings, an affection too bright to hide.

Sylvian was a storm bottled in petals and light, but he loved you with every flutter of his wild heart — and he would not let the world forget it.

Especially not when he perched on your shoulder like a living jewel, glaring at anyone who dared get too close, muttering under his breath about "uncultured pests" and "suspicious glances," and occasionally — just occasionally — tossing a tiny glamour hex when he thought you weren't looking.

"What?" he'd say when you caught him. "I'm just making sure they know you're taken. Nothing serious. Just... a little frizz in their hair. Maybe a sneeze or two. I am nothing if not subtle, darling."

And somehow, with him glowing by your side, the world didn’t feel quite so heavy.

It just felt... like magic.

..

.

[chris-prank]

I'm sorry Vincent, but the guys reaction to zombie apocalypse (The Last of Us type).

I need them reacting to their darling being like ellie, immune. And ppl trying to kill darling for the cure.

Real q from the #1 Vincent fan, his official wife: will he thrive due to danger against his darling or will he crumble to fear and lose what he loves the most?

It's only after writing for all of them that I realized you were referring to The Last of Us kind of apocalypse 💀 so sorry about that

CW: Zombies, murder, yandere behaviours, possessiveness, manipulation and kidnapping?

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

Dr. Seraph/Vincent

🧪 It is a surprise to no one that he would be horrified, his worst nightmare literally becoming reality in front of his own eyes.

🧪 Dr. Seraph would automatically build a bunker in response and spend all of his time creating weapons to keep zombies far away from him. He would also use his robots to go get supplies and food, but you would need to be the one controlling them because even simply seeing a zombie on the screen makes him dizzy.

🧪 And to answer your question, Dr. Seraph will one hundred percent save you from zombies if you find yourself unable to fight them off or escape. For all his patheticness and shyness, Vincent isn’t a criminal for no reasons. There’s a part of him that can be ruthless if needed, and seeing his darling in danger is the type of moment where something clicks in his brain. He might still close his eyes while he shoots them though… So in short, yes he will protect his one and only darling from his worst fear.

🧪 “Everything w-will be fine! I’ll… I’ll just build a laser around our home, tha-that way I won't have to deal with t-them…”

🧪 He would also be so relieved if his darling is immune, because it means that he doesn’t need to worry about you turning into one of those monsters.

🧪 Obviously, he wouldn’t let anyone take you to make a cure. He would rather have a zombie apocalypse than having his darling killed.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Esteban

📈 Being the rich guy that he is, the second that the news announces that there is a virus going around and turning people into zombies, you and Esteban will be on your way to a private island on his private plane.

📈 You wouldn’t have to worry about your friends and family because he would bring them too, after having them go through a very intense medical exam. The last thing he wants is for you to get infected after all. So a zombie apocalypse would be pretty chill with him.

📈 “It-It's alright love! Just think of this as a prolonged vacation!”

📈 If by some fortunate circumstance you get bitten and come out unarmed. Esteban would be so thankful to any force, either biological or supernatural that protected you. He just knew his precious love was special!

📈 If people came after you for a cure, I’ll hire trusted individuals to get rid of the rumors and kill these pests that dare entertain the thought of taking you away from him.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Atlas

💿 Atlas would enter protection mode in a blink of an eye, so no going out for you under any circumstances. He would totally use the “my human” card a lot to manipulate you into staying at your hideout.

💿 This situation would 100% make Atlas stresseeeed.

💿 He might look like his usual deadpan self, but inside he’d feel like his wires are going to pop. Because of it, Atlas would give you medical check ups, two times a day, every day of every week as long as the virus would be around.

💿 At least, being an android gives him an advantage since it’s impossible for him to get infected, making it easier for him to venture out to get food and supplies, but he’d still need to be wary of getting attacked by survivors.

💿 “You can't come with me! You could get hurt and… I don’t want to see my human in pain.”

💿 He would be amazed if you were immune, due to his system making him very curious and eager to learn more, especially if it’s about you.

💿 To the surprise of no one, Atlas would kill anyone that would try to kidnap you for a cure. And he wouldn’t be merciful about it, hurting them just enough so they die a long and painful death.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Martin

🪓 A zombie apocalypse wouldn’t even surprise him at this point, especially after everything he had seen.

🪓 Since the human population had decreased after everything that happened in his world and considering that Flowermore was a small town in the countryside, the undead wouldn’t be too much of a bother.

🪓 At the very least they would only need to build a barricade around the town just to be sure.

🪓 If the virus would end up affecting the townsfolk, you would still be relatively safe since no need to remind you that Martin is a bounty hunter.

🪓 For him, killing a living person or a walking dead body doesn’t make a difference, except for the fact that they would be even easier targets.

🪓 On top of that, his home, being outside town and into the forest, is surrendered by different types of traps. Needless to say you would be in good hands.

🪓 “Don’t worry darlin’, I’ll blow up their brains before they even get the chance to notice you.”

🪓 Martin would be happy and horrified if you are immune, because it means that you have a better chance at survival but you would also become sought after at the same time.

🪓 He would easily hunt down every person that plans to get you to make a cure, Eli style at the end of the second The Last of Us game.

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

I’m cheating a bit since Jacce wasn’t out when you send this ask so it didn’t include him 😅

You know what they say: « work smarter not harder »

[halfway-house-in-hell]

nifty redesign

(click for better quality)

thoughts under the cut

ok so!!

-my nifty backstory is a bit less fleshed out so stay with me here

-she was an aspiring science fiction writer born in japan late 1940's

-unfortunatly she never got to live out her dream as she was married off into a mafia family at 15

-this may have been the mafia family angel dust belonged to ☺️

-neither of them know this☺️☺️

-from then on she was whitewashed and essentially brainwashed into the perfect housewife

-if she disobeyed she got hit, so she did what she was told- until one day it got too much for her. she snapped, and murdered her husband in her sleep

-this got her sent into a mental asylum where she got diagnosed with hysteria and lobotomised

-she died soon after

-despite the murder reasonably being in self defence, murder is still classified as a Damning Sin in heaven's eyes and she got sent down to hell

-she is obsessed with neatness and incredibly hardworking. she will often work herself to the point of exhaustion, in which case alastor will step in and communicate her worries for her - she never complains, doing so makes her feel useless

-her obsessive tidying has led to finding loads of Banned Objects in guest's rooms

-she is the hotel's maid, chef, waitress, gardener, pest control, room attendant and accountant. they are severely understaffed

-alastor is her best and only friend. he is the only one that listens to her odd ramblings (speaking of odd ramblings, the stuff she says would be less "i like to kill bugs murder death X3" and more,, just odd facts and weird sayings and fucked up things that happened in her life but like,, sugarcoated. like shes trying to convince herself that they were good-kinda like kitty from ghosts abt her sister). she spies for him, it is pretty easy for her to go unnoticed due to her small stature. nothing goes unheard that alastor doesnt hear about

-her and alastor sometimes just go for walks together, with her perched on his arm like a falcon. i imagine a side plot of an episode being them taking one of their walks when they come across a sinner trying to move out of the pride ring, they try to help him hijinks ensue ect ect

-she isnt in it for the money, which is good bc shes not paid much

okii thats it :33

[newtonsheffield]

can we see more of teenage neddy in the surprise neddy au please?🥺

No but imagine how Neddy feels when he realises that his Uncle Ben seduced his Nanny.

“Uncle Ben, did you sexually harass my Nanny?!”

Ben froze, his arm around his wife. “I… don’t… think so? What? Wait! Only when she asked me to!”

Sophie chuckled, wrapping her arms around her nephew. “He did, but to be fair to him: I was pretty into it.”

“Is everyone in this family a complete sex pest?!”

“I’m not.” Gregory piped up, putting Neddy in a headlock, only 5 years older than Neddy himself.

“Only because Lucy Abernathy has a boyfriend.” Aunt Hyacinth scoffed.

“She might not be dating Art Haselby! We don’t have confirmation!”

“I think I’ve hit a nerve.” Hyacinth clicked her tongue, “Just think, Neddy, of everyone your mum could have had a one night stand with she picked Anthony. And you were born into this insane family.”

“Yeah I’m really bloody thankful!” Neddy hissed. “And they had three more kids because I was so great, thank you!”

“Keep telling yourself that and not that they didn’t know how birth control worked.”

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

An au where izumi/izuku strangles villains with flowers

"It's another case," Sansa announced as he entered the room. Naomasa groaned, letting his head drop onto the desk before him.

"Who keeps doing this?" the man demanded as he kept his forehead pressed into the wood.

"No clue. But it's a rapist. He was strangled by orange lilies and then hung upside down by them. A list of his crimes was pinned on his shirt with evidence." Sansa dropped the info down in front of Naomasa, who refused to look.

"We have hunted down every single flora-based Quirk in this city," Naomasa said. "We cannot find any fucking evidence of who did this."

"Sorry," Sansa laughed.

Asshole.

Sitting up, Naomasa grabbed the files. Time to get to work. The Plant Killer (despite whoever did it not killing anyone, the name was catchy) had popped up seven years back when a giant forest had appeared in downtown Mustapha. No one knew where it came from, though Naomasa had a feeling that the sole survivor of the deadly forest, Bakugou Katsuki, wasn't saying everything. A casual dig into what they could recover showed the teen had been a bully and participated in the widespread abuse of a Quirkless classmate.

Her body was never recovered, much like the dozens who were consumed by the forest.

Since then, plants had been popping up throughout the city, and Naomasa felt that everything was connected.

He just had to look.

-

Izumi hummed as she typed up her latest analysis. It was for Pro-Hero Ingenium, the man commissioning a special piece for his brother, who was going to UA. The teen clicked her heels together as she worked. The windows of her home were open to let in the light her green skin needed.

Photosynthesis made her life so much easier. She didn't need food, though she bought it once a week for a treat, which cut her expenses.

A homeless teenager needed to stay under the radar, especially after her Quirk activation.

Izumi winced, remembering the forest she had created, the dangerous flowers and razor-sharp thorns erupting from the ground as she screamed in pain.

(Her mother's unseeing eyes as the woman lay impaled on a tree.)

Swallowing, Izumi refocused on the analysis.

She didn't have time to think about that. She had to finish this, then start hunting down the vermin in her forest. The people hurting her people.

She had a lot of pest control to do.

[aricarianis]

The Widow At The Door. | AO3 Simon "Ghost" Riley / Female Character Psychological Drama, Comfort, Manipulation, Predator/Prey, Female Character Has a Fear of Spiders. One-Shot | 1,450 words. In a panic over a feared predator, she reluctantly accepts help from Simon, a seemingly kind stranger with a hint of menace. As fear and trust collide, she must confront her vulnerabilities and choose between facing her fears or surrendering to an unsettling comfort.

The room echoes with a recently delivered scream, and several minutes of panic drag on before the thought of how she landed in this situation crosses her mind. Short, irregular gasps guide beads of sweat down her body. Her shaky hands clutch a key to communication with the outside world — if only she had someone to call. Back against the door. Nails digging into wood. Frozen in place. Trapped.

Her eyes dart around, searching for an escape plan: on the living room table, a weeks-old notice about the upcoming building-wide pest control. On the couch, only a remote, some pillows, and a stuffed animal overdue for return. The knives on the kitchen counter to her left — useless against the kind of predator outside. A precise hunter, deliberate in every move, with a patience that speaks of experience. Fear spreads like a rare venom, paralyzing her in a way she hasn’t felt in years, not since she last had to fend for herself.

“Are you okay? I heard screaming.” A deep, disembodied voice in the distance brings her back to reality.

“Oh thank God! C-can you see it? By the door.” Her voice trembles, giving away her state of mind.

“I don’t see anything.” His voice grows louder, closer. “Mind telling me what I’m supposed to be looking for?”

“It’s a… it’s a spider. A huge spider. Staring at me when I opened the door.”

The memory of its gaze triggers a cascade of tiny, electrified bumps across her skin. A small eternity passes before the booming voice makes a comeback.

“Maybe you scared it away when you screamed. Do you want to come out? It’s just me out here, I’ll put it away if it shows up-"

“No! Jesus, no.” She interrupts, fear pushing her mind to create all sorts of irrational scenarios, all ending with her getting attacked by the menacing predator. “I’ll just… stay where I am. Thank you, mister.”

“Simon. Name’s Simon, I live down the hall. You don’t have to call me mister,” the stranger stated.

Her mind races, flipping through images like a film reel, searching for anything to put a face to the voice outside the door. Then, it clicks: a broad frame, towering height, dark eyes that seem to bore through you. A sinister impression that always left her uneasy. They’d crossed paths often, her eyes always darting away, her phone a shield against unwanted conversation. She once even called a friend in the elevator just to avoid acknowledging his presence, feeling his gaze linger as she spoke of loneliness and heartbreak. A gaze that made her wish she could read his mind.

And now here he was, putting himself in the line of danger to help her. Silly instincts.

“So your plan is to never leave your apartment again?” Simon asks.

She chuckles, a weak attempt to mask her unease. “I would if I could but… ah, it’s okay. I’ll call the manager tomorrow, see if the pest control company is still coming in-“

“They’re not,” Simon interrupts, “coming in, I mean. They wrapped up a few days ago.”

“Fuck.” She closes her eyes as a deep sigh escapes her lips. Her way out of accepting the stranger’s help slipping through her fingers. “I’m out all day, I haven’t even seen them around. They shouldn’t have wrapped up if monsters like that are still out there.”

“Maybe it was waiting for the right moment to come out.”

She couldn’t tell if he was joking. “Right as I’m trying to go out for dinner?”

“I mean, maybe it knows you shouldn’t be alone,” Simon carries on, “maybe it’s looking for a warm place to stay and it took a liking to you.”

She shivers, not just from the thought of the spider, but from the way Simon’s words hang in the air. Silly instincts making a comeback.

“What do you mean ‘took a liking to me’? My place isn’t warm or inviting and, besides, I hate that. I hate that something I can’t see gets to choose me and make me feel trapped. It feels like there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“There is.” His tone rock solid.

“What?”

“You can come out.”

“Say what now?” Her voice rising in volume.

“The spider is probably more scared than you are. Come out.”

“You can’t be serious,” she scoffed.

“Why?”

“‘I’m trapped, Simon!”

The mention of his name for the first time in the exchange opens the path for bluntness to come through.

“You’re the one trapping yourself right now. I told you the spider isn’t out here, it’s just me.”

She hesitates, his words catching her by surprise. “You think I’m trapping myself?”

Simon’s voice is steady but gentle. “You’re hiding behind a door from a guy you’ve seen many times before. If there was a spider here, it’s long gone now. I know we don’t know each other, but I’m just trying to help.”

Guilt crashes in like relentless waves. Loneliness and heartbreak had blinded her to kindness and compassion. Her tone softens. “I’ve never had to worry about this before.”

“About spiders?”

“About facing scary things on my own.” She looks down at the tips of her fingers peeking out of the sleeves of a jacket — too big to be called hers. The warmth it once provided now feeling like a constricting burden. Heavy air of an anxious summer night.

“You’re not on your own,” Simon says soflty. “I don’t mean to pry, but if you want to share, I’m here to listen.”

Sharing with a stranger would make it real. Friends might understand her reasons, but strangers demand context. Context as to why she trapped herself in a cage she created — one whose key still carried the warmth of past hands. Hands that made her realize hers were better off holding bars. Barriers, like the door between herself and the spider. A comfortable prison that took away the pain of having agency. The kind of pain that has landed her here. The kind predators can sense.

“Are you really sure it isn’t out there?” She diverts, her voice revealing a hint of exhaustion.

“Yeah, I’ve looked everywhere. Well, everywhere except…” He pauses, leading her on.

“IT COULD’VE GOTTEN INTO MY HOUSE?” she shouts, frantically searching for the predator that could’ve slipped into her home.

“It could, but that’s out of your control. Spiders are sneaky. They get into places without anyone noticing and hide in the dark until it’s time to feed.”

“Stop talking like that. I’m scared!”

“You won’t be if you let me in.” His bass voice hovers somewhere between friendly and ominous. “You know, to check it out.”

With a quick shrug, the jacket slips to the floor. Fear clouds her mind, leaving no room for second thoughts. As always, there’s relief in surrender. Her trembling hands fumble with the lock, struggling to keep up with the urgency in her head. The door swings open. A breeze slips inside. Her eyes lift. Simon.

“Are you okay?” he asks, softness everywhere but his ever-piercing eyes. She nods and steps aside, making space for him to enter.

Simon methodically searches the apartment. His eyes scan every corner and shadow with a practiced gaze, fingers brushing against surfaces as if sensing for movement. A precise hunter, deliberate in every move, with a patience that speaks of experience. He pauses occasionally, offering reassuring glances that suggest there’s nothing to fear anymore.

“Well, you’ll be happy to hear that the spider is not here.” The corners of Simon’s lips curl up, his voice slicing through the anxious silence of the apartment. She sighs in relief, and thanks him. He takes it as a sign, an invitation. “So… still feel like going out for dinner? All this hunting left me hungry.”

She hesitates, her gaze shifting to the door. The invitation is simple, yet it holds a weight of its own. She could refuse. Step outside the trap Simon pointed out she put herself in, by herself. Walk out into the world knowing there was a spider that took a liking to her, but she wasn’t going to let it dictate her life. But in this moment, with her comfort zone tempting, she finds herself falling back into her old patterns.

“Yeah,” she says, her eyes dropping to the jacket, then back to Simon. “I’d like that.”

Simon’s smile broadens, and he gestures toward the door. “After you.”

As they walk through the doorway, Simon glances at the notice he slid under her door a few weeks ago. A small reminder to look for a sweet new home for his tarantula. After all, he has another pet to take care of now.

[midnightfairy1]

Hi! I just found you! Are you gonna make a masterpost for your writing and other fun details?

Thanks for asking! I’ve been thinking about making one, but was worried it was unnecessary since I only have three chapters out right now. But since you asked, yes I will! 😁 (ps: it’s going to be really short as of now but just give me a couple months)

Also, if you guys have any writing or comics that you’ve created or recommend, PLEASE comment or private message me because i’m actually a fein for g/t content

Masterpost ⬇️

Science!

Every hypothesis you may read in the posts below is verified by my own research and scientific calculations.

Do Borrowers Take Fall Damage?

Borrower Speed, Strength, and Durability

refer to this post by @blubomb280 to learn more about how borrowers might evolve in different environments.

My Writing

The Forest Kingdom 🌲

A forgotten race of fairy-like creatures live in the forest, unbeknownst to humans. They are known as feykin, or fairies without wings. They share a deep connection with each other and with nature. Two childhood best friends, Cassian and Sylven, live in a village on the outskirts of their kingdom. They were inseparable. However, a mysterious scheme that involved Cassian’s parents separated the two when Cassian went missing without warning. Years later, with the threat of humans growing more pressing by the day, Sylven is betrayed by two patrols and left stranded at the mercy of a teenage boy. However, Sylven is shocked to learn that this human was none other than his missing childhood friend.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

etc…

Borrower Story 📌

This is something I’ve been writing on the side, but I’m probably not going to start posting it until i’m further with my current story. The main idea behind it is it’s just your stereotypical borrower story.

Chapter 1

etc…

Recommended Writing

Here I’m going to post the masterposts/links to my favorite g/t writing! (with credits of course). I also promise everyone that this will be completely SFW 🩷

1. @narrans

A lot of really good borrower stories

I don’t even need to add a description because if you click on the link, their masterpost is so incredibly well organized (I actually kind of copied the layout for mine 🤫 thank you narrans)

2. @arc852

BBBCAU Masterpost

a series of slice of life stories revolving around a borrower named jimmy who lives in a dorm with two college freshman.

3. @tinyundercover

Pepper and Felix

This is definitely one of my all time favorite borrower stories, it’s such a unique and cool idea. Basically everyone in this universe can communicate with their soulmate telepathically once they turn 21. However, borrower Pepper quickly realizes his soulmate is a human.

4. @rosella35

Borrowed Courage

This story is really well written and the author is an AMAZING artist. In this world, borrowers can take a drug or something that lets them grow to human size. A teenage boy uses this drug to attend human school undiscovered, until he is caught by a girl in his class while he is small. Did I mention this girl’s dad runs a “pest control” business?

5. LaEscritoria and PL1 (Deviantart)

A Reader’s Guide to the Trust Multiverse

Here is an insane amount of content spread over different AUs following the four main characters Colfax, Saywer, Adrian, and Charlie. In the main stories (A Little Bit of Trust)(A Little More Trust), two of the guys are humans in college and two of them are viris (basically the same thing as borrowers). From there, this is just your classic borrower story with great writing and around 200 total chapters.

6. @sunandshards

Sun and Shards

This story i great and takes your mind to a whole other fantasy world. There is a race of tiny people (Shykind), kobolds, and humans. One day, a Shy accidentally links his mind to that of the kobold Vikka and then they both wander past the borders of their home and get caught by humans. I linked the table of contents on Royal Roads above. There is a lot of g/t interaction in the later chapters.

7. Firenze11 (Deviantart)

Sage and Drew

Another borrower universe with its own twist: borrowers are known about and sanctuaries are built for them to keep them safe. Overall this is a classic borrower story when Sage is the borrower and Drew is the human. However, In the size swap the sanctuaries come more into play. Drew and Sage meet online playing video games, and become best friends before hanging out face to face. The story starts off at their first meeting, creating an interesting trope that I haven’t seen anywhere else.

8. MossRock123 (Wattpad)

Out of the Walls

Basically a classic borrower story, but the human Luca is most most respectful human I’ve ever read about and the borrower Enzo has the most adorable baby brother named Harper. Some of the best g/t I have read up to Chapter 24, plus a size swap AU. Also, I have never read a slow burn romance written better than this one OML (also ranked on Wattpad at #5 in stories about borrowers).

Recommended Comics

coming soon just let me add them

Recommended Shows/Movies

coming soon just let me add them

[syddsatyrn]

Je t'aime Violet

By Sydd Satyrn Chapter 1 ⛧ Chapter 2 ⛧ Chapter 3 Masterlist

⛧Pairing: - Alastor x OC!Reader Violet

⛧Warnings: Drinking, smoking, swearing, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst, eventually smut, adult themes, 18+ not for minors

⛧Words: 1.8k ⛧Fic playlist: Click here!

⛧Summary: Hello ladies, gentleman and nonbinary friends! I present to you, my series Je t'aime Violet. This story is staring my OC, Violet! She is a deer demon containing a lot of personality. With a gifted voice and a bit of jazz, she's got style and class on lock. After 7 years, Violet and Alastor's feelings towards each other never dissolved. Violet reconnects with the man who left with her heart, will she forgive him? Does Alastor have the ability to set his pride aside for love?

⛧Notes: @hellfiremunsonn is a total babe for being my beta reader.

⛧Chapter 1: Rye Whiskey The door slams shut behind you and you let out a sigh of relief, another show is finally over. After taking a seat in front of your vanity, you turn on the small television in your dressing room. You’ve been on tour for the past year and a half, playing at different venues, private events, and more. Today was the final show and you gave it all you had, the crowd seemed pleased. Even though you almost collapsed at the end of the performance, everything worked out in your favor. It's getting late so you pour yourself a glass of whiskey and take a sip. Being a Jazz singer isn't all it's cracked up to be. Sure the fame and free drinks are nice, but the men are pigs. Just because you dance around in skimpy clothes and sing love songs doesn't mean you’re going to go home with whoever flashes a stack of cash your way. Suddenly a familiar voice shakes you from your thoughts. An odd commercial plays on the TV and you almost spit out your drink. Your soft ears perk up and twitch and your tail flicks from side to side. “Do you like blood, violence, and depravity of a sexual nature? Of course, you do! That's why you’re in hell! But what would you say if I told you there was a place to stay that had none of that? Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, a misguided path to redemption! Founded five days ago by Lucifer’s delusional daughter, Charlotte Morningstar. Come place your fate in her inexperienced hands as she tries to work through her daddy issues by fixing you! Here we offer fun things such as…Somewhat functional staff and 24-hour pest control! Custom rooms and just look at this parlor! Enjoy a Riveting conversation with our singular resident! Wow! All this and more at the Hazbin Hotel! Your last desperate attempt at salvation starts here!” That voice is unmistakable, but part of you can’t believe it’s true. Has Alastor really come back? Is he staying at this strange hotel? So many unanswered questions. You had a history with the infamous Radio Demon. A past you thought would never see the light of day. It was long before you found your passion for music, in a time when you thought nothing would make you happy. 

Alastor used to be your beau once upon a time. You both used to be so undoubtedly in love with each other. He used to sweep you off your feet and make you feel like the most beautiful thing in all of Hell. But that was a long time ago, and Alastor might not be the same guy you used to know, seven years is enough time to change a person. He was the one who broke it off, stating that he had some business to deal with. He was vague and aloof, he said he couldn’t stick around and keep you, that it would be unfair of him to make you wait. You told him it didn't matter to you, that you would wait for his return. He told you that he might not return at all, kissed your hand, and left you there in the rain.

You finished off the last of your drink, there was no way you could stay in the dressing room tonight. If there was even the slightest chance that you could see Alastor again you had to go. So you changed out of your stage clothes into a black dress, one that hugs your curves rather nicely. You put on a pair of knee high boots and your black lapel. After deciding to keep the pearl necklace and earrings on, you check your makeup in the mirror and grab your duffle bag before leaving your dressing room. The streets of Pentagram City were alive with debauchery and sin. Sinners were partying, gambling, and fucking their cares away. With a lit cigarette between your lips you walk for a while, heels clacking against the sidewalk. Your eyes scan the billboards, hoping to find any sign of the hotel. A few ads pop up for a porn studio where your dear friend works. She used to sing with you until she decided to get into the adult entertainment business. You don’t mind, as long as she's happy, then so are you.

Your train of thought is derailed when the image changes on the billboard. It now shows the Hazbin Hotel with a very familiar face standing outside, holding a sign and smiling brightly. Your eyes widen and you feel a tightening sensation in your chest, that smile. You had seen it countless times in the past, that charming, dashing smile.

The billboard changes once again and a phone number flashes on the screen. You reach into your pocket and grab your cell phone. Dialing the number, you take a drag from your cigarette and hold the phone to your ear. After a few rings, a woman picks up and greets you. “Hello! Hazbin Hotel, How can I help you?” She is so cheerful it's almost disgusting. “Hi there. I was wondering if you had rooms available?” There's a short pause and some shuffling on the other line, the woman speaks again. "Oh my goodness! Yes, we have plenty of rooms available!" 

You take another drag from your cigarette and speak again, "Can I check-in tonight? I'm actually in the city and-"

"Oh my, yes of course! Let me get you the address.”

"Great, thank you." You reply. The cheerful woman gives you the address and you end the call. You take one last puff off your cigarette and stomp it out. With the location committed to memory, you make your way to the hotel. 

The hotel is quite large, standing out against the dim and drab streets. A smile spreads across your face and you walk up the steps. The moment you open the door a small woman dressed in a maids uniform greets you.

"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! I'm Nifty! And you must be a new guest!" She looks a bit disheveled and her eyes are wide. “Hello there Nifty,” You bend down and get on her level and smile at her. “My name is Violet. It's a pleasure to meet you, dear.” She squeals and grabs your hand, practically dragging you inside. Nifty points to the bar and introduces Husker the bartender as a “grumpy kitty”. You nod your head in agreement and follow her through the lobby. You walk up to the bar and give Husker a big smile. He grunts at you but returns your smile nonetheless. Nifty pulls out a stool and you set your bag down and take a seat.  “I’m going to go find Charlie for you, I’ll be right back!” Nifty exclaims as she runs off towards the elevator. You watch as the elevator doors close behind her. “What'll it be, Miss?” Husker asks in a gruff voice. He notices you have the same kind of features as Alastor, fluffy deer ears, a tail, and a toothy grin. “Rye whiskey, on the rocks if you have it.” You ask and Husker turns around to make it for you. Oddly enough you drink the same kind of Liquor as Alastor too. Just as Husker slides the drink over to you, the sound of heels clicking against the marble floor catches your attention. You glance up and there she is—Charlie. The woman who now owns and runs this peculiar establishment. Her smile is warm and welcoming as she approaches you, her red curls bouncing with every step. “Violet, I presume?” she says, extending a hand towards you. You take it, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. “That's me,” you reply with a soft smile. “It's quite a place you have here.” Charlie's eyes twinkle with pride as she looks around the bustling lobby. “Thank you! We do our best to make everyone feel welcome and offer a chance at redemption.” You can't help but admire her determination and genuine desire to help others. “You mentioned having a room available?” You ask and take a sip of your drink. “Oh yes! Here, take this.” She says and hands you a key. “You’re on the third floor, room 103. We can talk more tomorrow, it's getting late and I’m sure you would like to turn in for the night.” You thank Charlie, Nifty and Husk before making your way to the elevator. The ride up to the third floor is smooth, and as the doors open, you're greeted by a quiet hallway lined with ornate wallpaper and dimly lit lamps. Room 103 is at the end of the hallway, and you feel a mix of nerves and excitement as you approach the door. The key slides in easily, and with a click, the door opens to reveal a cozy room with a large bed, plush armchair, and a window overlooking the city below. Dropping your coat and duffle bag on a nearby chair, you take in the room's atmosphere before sitting down on the edge of the bed.

The events of the evening whirl through your mind - Alastor's unexpected return, the allure of the Hazbin Hotel, and now being here in this room that feels both familiar and new. But for now, all you can think about is going to bed. You put on a pair of small black shorts and a large t-shirt. After you hit the lights and crawl under the covers, it doesn't take long for you to drift off to sleep. 

While you sleep, a shadow appears in the room, a silhouette of a man with a sinister smile spreading across his face. The shadow moves closer to the bed, the figure illuminated by the dim moon light filtering in from the window. A shiver runs down your spine as you sense a presence in the room, causing you to slowly awaken from your slumber. Your eyes flutter open and the shadow flees, you only catch a glimpse of it out of the corner of your eye. You look around the room and you feel like someone is watching you, but there is no one here but you. You let out a sigh and try to go back to sleep, you must be seeing things.

As you try to shake off the eerie feeling, you hear a faint whisper in the darkness. Your heart races as you strain to make out the words being murmured. "Violet..." The voice is deep and sends a chill down your spine. You sit up in bed, your eyes wide with fear. "Who's there?" you manage to croak out, your voice barely above a whisper. There is no response, only the sound of your own ragged breathing filling the room. The voice sounded just like an old radio, you know he is calling you. But you’re not going to chase him, if he wants to talk to you, he knows exactly where to find you. So with that, you roll over and try your best to go back to sleep, despite the fact that you are being watched.

[sketchfanda]

Chestnut Stud across the Multiverse: Presented by Double Z studios

Farming the Nuts

We find ourselves observing the point of view of an anonymous individual typing and clicking away while browsing on their computer. The monitor screen displaying the streaming sectionf for Double Z studios' website as our anonymous net navigator entered their log-in details and typed up a name in the search bar. "Don Juan Sanchez" proceeded to provide quite a healty amount of results as it proudly displayed a selection of shorts, highlight reels and full length motion pictures featuring the studio's resident and so far current human star. The mouse cursor moving swiftly to hover over one of the most popular rated links, a little slice of life themed flick which so happened to feature legendary veteran porn star Slappy Squirrel in a surprise comeback.

With a click and swift load and buffer, the video played on with the story as as follows. Wherein we find Krillin, aka Juan Sanchez working hard on his family farm, growing all kinds of nuts and other such edible commodities to harvest and sell. However, he is under constant attack by squirrels, chipmunks, and other pests among the local rodent crowd of his anthro neighbours. So far of course, he was proud to say nobody has been able to steal a single nut from his farm and get away with it successfully, the day those greedy furballs got one over on Juan Sanchez would the day the devil would be seen going to rent a snow plow.

However in this simple slow burn like story, things take a turn as wr come to Slappy, in the lead female role as a a matriarch of starving family of squirrels who decided to test her luck. Her familia needed food and they neded it sooner rather than later. So hours passed by to later on, wherein we find her sneaking in at night under the cover of darkness, evading any obstacles or traps as she was hoping to get some choice nuts while the farmer was still asleep.Unfortunately she finds the gate to where he keeps his good stuff locked up and that meant she was really going to have to get even sneakier and take a bigger risk than originally intended.

The scene transitioned on as She sneaks into his home, moving quite stealthy and graceful in a far more limber manner than you'd expect of a woman her age. Making her up silently as she looks all around the house in an attempt to find the key and realizes it is likely still on his person, much to her dismay and growing frustration. With a gulp and a quick muster of courage, she goes into his bedroom, and finds him sleeping away, the key wrapped around his neck as it gleamed in the moonlight practically calling to her. Careful not to wake him with her footsteps and avoid any creaky floorboards, soon as she was right at his bedside, she began trying to sneak it off him but suddenly to her confusion, in his sleep, he gropes her as she felt the sensation of his palms and fingers on her furry tits..

Slappy freezes and is shocked to feel that sudden act of erotic intimacy, the silverfox blushing slightly, sensually biting her lip as she suppressed the urge to moan before she notices a growing bulge in the sheets. Unable to stop her curiosity, she pulls back his covers revealing his size, her blue eyes locked on that stiffening length and girth. Just her luck Farmer Sanchez slept in the nude as the sight and of course distinct scent of that COCK overwhelmed her, stirrring something deep within, an itch unscratched for years. She couldn't control herself as she grasped his erection, her mission forgotten in the heat of sudden passion as she climbs into bed with him, taking him for a ride while he sleeps as she wasted no time in impaling her netherlips on that hot fuckhammer.

His instincts were top notch even in his slumber as he gropes and squeezes her body, coaxing deep sensual moans from the silver fox squirrel. Her body a sight to behold as the camera captured her in all her erotic glory under the sensual moonlight from the sensual sway of her fluffy tail to the hypnotic jiggling of her bouncing tits and ass. Her cowgirl motions slow and steady in the rhythm as she rode his raw cock, that length and girth stretching her pussy in ways she hadn’t felt in forever. Her mission forgotten as she found herself moving faster,harder, risking making the bed creak as she found herself leaning closer towards his face. Wanting to lick it, to kiss him and take his breath away for rocking her world as her every nerve continued to burn with a growing passion….

Krillin:*However, Slappy gets too into it and the farmer wakes up which caused the mature naked squirrel babe to pause at being caught in the act like this. However, instead of getting angry, he's shown to be so very overwhelmed with pleasure as he squeeze her furry booty and spoke up.* "You want nuts?! you got them!!!"*And then proceeds to dominate her throughout the night much to her thrill of course. No longer having to hold back her moans as she felt herself riding the compact farming stud like he was a rodeo bull!!*

What followed was a raw passionate marathon summed up via a veritable montage sequence of the short king and the sexy squirrel babe going at it in a passionate rut. Their moonlight romping emitting an intensity which you could feel through the screen as one could just see the genuine, raw sexual bliss on display in Slappy's face. It was well known that the fine wine aged squirrel was a legendary veteran of the adult film who'd taken some big cocks in her day and done the most daring and bold scenes and yet even in her prime, she always seemed so in control. But it was plenty clear here that Krillin was a whole new experience for her, not having just a phenomenal cock size but the skill with which he used it as he didn't just simply fuck her...he made sweet, hot sexy love to her.

The camera made sure to capture the raw desire as the moonlit montage played out to quite a sequence. From Slappy in a positon that was very rare for her, taking it doggy style on her hands and knees as Krillin bucked and thrust into her snatch with vigorous motions. Smacking her furry bubbble butt which got some deep throated moans out of her before gasping as he grabbed and squeezed one of her swaying tits. Her stomach bulging from how deep his length and girth were reaching as he penetrated her warm, tight and wet walls.

To next seeing Slappy in a mating press, making out with the compact stud as those heavy balls of his slapped her furry asscheeks followed by her performing squats on his shaft as he laid on the bed. Caressing her hips as she rode and bounced on his shaft with lust very visible in her eyes as she relished his eyes glued to the hypnotic bounce of her tits. Prone bone, wheel barrow, missionary, spread eagle and more as it was implied they went through a veritable kama suta long into the night. Finishing off in the twilight hours with one simultaneous climax together, falling into one another's embrace as the warmth of the afterglow made them sleep together and save any explanatios or discussions in the morning.

Over breakfast, that is after a little wake up quickie caused by Slappy sucking off his morning wood which lead to another in a shared shower together, the two reached a deal after running the numbers so it won't hurt his business, Krillin will give sloppy the amount of nuts she needs for her family, if she agrees to visit at least twice a month. Slappy takes the deal and says she'll spread the word to some friends of hers who could use some nuts to fill them as well. Much to the stud farmer's shock and surprise which the camera hinted wasn't act as the video ended with a final, sloppy and passionate kiss from the squirrel hottie.

This last part was ad libbed into the film, after Slappy lost her composure during a particularly savage orgasm after both the nighttime marathon and the shower quickie. Hence why Krillin' confusion had been genuine, the sexy milf/gilf squirrel had gone off script. The viewer of course gave the video a like, clicking the thumbs up button and a full 5 stars and saving that video to their personal playlist for a later rewatch.

A little behind the scenes synopsis revealed that after shooting had wrapped up, Slappy enjoyed a little quality time off camera with Krillin/Juan in her dressing room. As well as hinted that the two would work a few more shoots and scenes together, a few of which were pending as future uploads and releases for Double Z. Much to the delight of fans who'd not expected this one off appearance from Slappy would see her make a comeback from retirement in a new career renaissance in Double Z's newfound human male on furry female genre. Which naturally saw her working a lot more with Don Juan Sanchez in their newfound chemistry....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Little Ranger & The 2 Bears

Our anonymous browser wasted little to no time in checking out the next skin flick available from Double Z, kicking back to relax and let the story play out before them. Watching on as Don Juan Sanchez (aka Krillin) a park ranger is looking through the woods to check for anything out of place, making sure everyone is safe. It comes across very clearly that a lot of the local anthro folks show respect for him save for 2 of them in particular, a duo of cheeky girls, played by mature hotties Julie Bruin and Rebecca Cunningham. They did quite job as the resident bears who live near the park who have proven time and again to pull all kinds of pranks and jokes on him.

However, things take a turn one day when there is a huge thunderstorm, one that forces the trio to hunker down until it passes. Julie, proven to be scared, is surprised to be comforted by Krillin of all people, given their established aforementioned enmity. Before things can ecalate, they are interrupted by a lightning strike which creates a forest fire (provided by some very well done practical and computer special effects, Double Z truly put mainstream studios to shame), . Krillin, working hard as he want to, gets the 2 bears to safety, his determination and overall gutsy fortitude doing quite the feat of finally earning him the ursine babes' respect. After the two are cleared out of any danger and the damage is fixed, the fire contained and put out, things were oddly quiet for the next day or so after that.

Until suddenly the pair came to visit Krillin at his ranger station in the dead of night, stating they wanted to apologize for how they've treated him since he arrived, and thank him for saving their lives. Which they showed by suddenly ambushing him with deep, passionate French kisses which caught their compact savior quite off guard to say the vert least. More so when after taking turns, they both took to kissing him at the same time as the camera made sure to capture the erotic display of 3 sets of lips and tongues dancing together in a sloppy expression of raw, passionate desire. But then the spiciness really started to increase once the Bear babe duo shut the door to the station behind them and took the object of their lusty affection to his personal quarters.

From there on, the clothing went flying, cast aside and discarded on the floor as ranger Sanchez went along with the erotic momentum thrown upon him. His hands feeling up those thicc, curvy brown furry female forms as he found them packing meat in just about all the right places. Julie and Rebecca gasping with sensual moans at his quite gifted touch as they continued making out with him, pressing and rubbing their bombshell forms against what they found to be quite the body the little man had on him. Their pussy lips dribbling and quivering as they stroked and felt the crotch of his boxers, the one remaining item of clothing between them and their pleasure.

Kissing and licking their way down along his muscular torso until they were kneeling down on the floor, their eyes burning with lust and anticipation alike, they were grasping the waistband and wasted no time in pulling them off. Gasping in sensual awe as they set their sights upon his erect length and girth in all its nude glory, twitching and pulsing with an intent to not simply fuck them. But mate and breed if they so desired as that dick, no that COCK promised to put any and all other men they'd ever been with to shame. Grasping it as they began to stroke and jerk him off, breathing in the scent of raw manliness radiating from it before they soon got right down to business in rewarding their brave, hansdsome hero.

In no time at all, the short king was groaning as he endured the tandem oral assault from the Ursine hotties who orally worshipped his cock. Kissing and licking from the tip to the base as they massaged his balls before they gave those some much deserved attention as well. To taking turns sucking and blowing on it, driven to deepthroat him in spite, or perhaps motivated by the challenge to fully take his shaft balls deep. Their warm breath and slobber along with the lust radiating in their eyes making him buck and pump his hips in response before he was soon putting his own idle hands to use.

Which Julie and Rebecca soon found had them moaning as he groped and squeezed their chocolate furred booties, orgasmic shudders from their lips as he gave them some swift, sudden slaps to make them jiggle. Oh they had no doubt as much as he was enjoying their erotic sincerity and gratitude, he still had quite a bit of a grudge to vent for all their little pranks and smartass remarks. If anything they were looking forward to it, eager to see just how assertive their burly swolestack could be. Shaking their naughty asses at him as they courted his attention, their hips becoming soaked with the flow of their love nectar which dribbled down to growing puddles on the floor.

After their little fellatio foreplay of course, they weren't waiting long as the shortround ranger pounced on them and took control, giving it to them as rough, deep and hard as they wanted. The bed shaking and creaking as it rocked against the wall and thudded on the floor, making the mattress springs squeak as hammered the Ursine honeys in ways they never thought any man capable of. Shifting through a variety of two on one to one on one whenever Julie or Rebecca needed to catch their breaths or they gave their short king a little fuel for his fire with a little lesbian make out show. Which really did the trick as they kept at it like horny beasts long into the night.

It was a veritable montage sequence highlight reel of pornographic lewdness ranging from Rebecca taking it in a mating press as she made out with Krillin in a sloppy tongue dancing kiss, asscheeks clapping from the heavy hammering of his balls. To Rebecca howling like a lusty she-wolf as she rode him cowgirl style, gasps of orgasmic wonder whenever the little man would smack her ass as he took in the hypnotic sight of her bouncing titties. One bear babe eating the other out as she took it from their stud hero doggy style or missionary to scissoring each other as they took a facefucking, held in place by him grasping their luxurious silky manes of hair. Just some of the stand out scenes of this marathon before it soon reached its natural climax.

Which saw things finished off with a bang as Julie laid atop Rebecca, kissing and making out with her as they embraced one another, tongues dancing as Krillin pumped his cock between their pussies. Before thrusting into each one in turn, the camera catching the glowing pink hearts in the Ursine hotties' eyes indicating how well and effectively fucked they were. Before the short king shuddered and grunted as he came, much to their bliss and delight as he shot his seed in them in turn before they pried themselves off and let him pump the rest onto their furry bodies. Specks of white hot cream painting them before sleep finally took hold of them they held his arms, hugging either side of them as they kept him warm and cozy.

Needless to say, the two bears become a welcome sight at the grounds soon after that fateful night. Much to the surprise and confusion of many of their fellow forest folk, who found it odd and curious that Ranger Sanchez's two biggest problem cases were now so friendly with him. More so whenever one or both of them paid a visit to his office or he made a personal call to their quaint little home. It made them wonder just what exactly was going the hell on all of a sudden.

Though some of the local critter femmes who were especially nosey had found that if they listened closely, they could hear certain sounds coming from either place. Or just how Rebecca or Julie's eyes and hands seemed to wander around the Ranger's body, in a manner that was almost friendly in a sensual way. At times they could swear there was similar noises coming from spots like the private bathing waterfall or the park swimming pool. Suffice to say, they were starting to think something fishy was going on......

This video of course would be but a first in a series of sexual encounters between Ranger Sanchez and the quite thirsty, active community of Forest girls. As well as the first of many scene partnerships between Krillin and the 2 bear babes, who in behind the scenes documentaries spoke very highly of their human co-worker. Their appraisal making it very clear that they hadn't felt that good in a pornshoot since they first started in the business. And hinted that just maybe...they tended to do some very hands on rehearsals with him off the clock.......

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Heavy Lifting

Our aroused browser continued on with their next selection which started off showing Krillin's character who was new in town and hasd just joined the local gym. Two of its regulars, the kinky duo of Patty and Dal immediately draw their own conclusion about this, thinking he is tiny and weak on first impression of the puny looking little guy. However, they are shocked when they see is built after coming out of the locker room and even see the weight he's lift and putting away like it is nothing. The two smirk at one another and set their sights on him.

It turns out the two are what are called gym whores, girls who seek out buff gym studs for fun and as of now, the little man was their latest pending boytoy. Their usual target was Todd, a friendly himbo lion, who made a bit of time getting to know him, warned Krillin to keep away from those two especially if he valued keeping his fluids in tact and his pelvis from being bruised if not shattered. However, after a long and very intense workout (the camera taking special time and care to focus on the short king's muscles in action as he sweated and pumped iron), which left the duo gushing (the cameras also focusing on the reactions of their bodies, from their sweat making their outfits cling to their furry forms and more) as they realize his clear physical superiority to the other gym members they'd had their way with, they knew they had to have him. Seeing their opportunity as he finally finished his routine set and made his way to the mens' locker room to go change and have himself a little rest and relaxation, they shared a look as their eyes gleamed with lewd intent.

Licking their lip sensually, they proceeded follow him as soon as he stepped into the back as made his way to the steam room to relax his muscles. Unaware that soon he was about to have some very unexpected company as Todd offers a quick prayer before going to his own set. Dal and Patty soon stood outside the door to the steam room as they peaked inside the window, biting their lips as they saw the target of their affections clad in only a towel which kept them from seeing what was sure to be a big, meaty cock. Wasting no time as they stripped out of their skintight sexy lycra spandex gym clothes, giving the camera quite a fine show of their well toned, sexxy, furry bodies.

Inviting themselves in as his eyes were closed in deep thought, Dal and Patty entered and made their move to have their fun as they ambushed him with the sight of their naked selves. Deviously stating they want to have their fun with the little man, who was unable to help himself as his body reacted the way it would to such a pair of naked furry hotties. His towel falling off as it became undone from his erection springing forth, shocking the horny gym whore pair with the reveal of his cock size before their already high state of arousal skyrocketed. Proceeding right into jumping his bones, not wanting to waste what precious little time they had with some teasing when such a treasure showed itself before them.

The steam room soon became even steamier as Dal and Patty started things off with a little oral tag team, his cock in their hands as they pumped it and massaged his smooth, heavy balls. His length and girth twitching in their grasp, his groans music to their ears as they worked over his cock with licks and kisses from the tip to those heavy babymakers. Sensual pants and cries of delight escaping their muzzled lips as they found him groping their asses or fingering their sloppy, sticky pussies while they took turns sucking and blowing on his cock. Nothing like a good fellatio warm up to really get the blood pumping just right for their racing pulses.

Naturally the pair started off with their best routine of pleasure as they were riding him hard and fast, only to soon find themselves overwhelmed by his stamina. It was unreal how someone like him, sculpted and strong as he was, could manage to turn the tables on him. Even Todd (in story at least) had still been just a virgin when they got their hands on him but this little guy?! He was absolutely wrecking them.

The steam room played host to a stunning erotic montage of Dal and Patty becoming dominated and addicted to the overwhelming sexual skill unleashed upon them. Krillin making the most of enjoying their quite toned, flexible figures as he took them to their absolute limits, be it one on one or two on one as they found it was very clear he was no stranger to threesomes. Inches of glorious, pussy pounding, skin slapping, assgaping veiny peace of Heaven sinking into their stretched pussy wall muscles as those heavy nutjuice sacks smacked their furry booties. Rocking the horny pair's worlds as the huntresses found themselves having the prey...and loving every fuck-damn second of it!!

From Patty finding herself folded up in a mating press as that swolestack Adonis pinned her down, her luscious legs pushed back until her ankles were beside her head. Panting like the bitch in heat she was as Krillin pumped and hammered his bitch-pleasing mat-hammer into the welcoming embrace of her battered pussy, making her asscheeks clap with every smack of those heavy wrecking balls of his. To howling with lusty abandon as she found herself efortlessly hoisted up into the air, arms and legs trapped in the powerful, glistening arms of the short king as he had in a full nelson position forcing her to bounce and ride on his piston thrusting cock. Her ever usually immaculate furry washboard abs swelling with a rising bump from the sheer depth of his length and girth as her clit found those balls smacking into it.

Dal was doing no better than she was when it came to her own one on one, the queen of gym femdom a mere lump of furry putty in Krillin's hands as he performed a standing fuck with the dalmatian hottie. One of her lovely legs hooked and draped over his strong shoulders, kissing him deeply and passionately as her spotted snow white furry booty bounced with every rigorous ride of her pussy on that godly cock of his. Her furry tits rubbing against his firm pecs as her eyes glowed with pink hearts of lust as she rode a tidal wave of orgasms one after another. More so as she held on for dear life when he had her hoisted up in the air, holding both of her legs in the grasp of his arms as he impaled her sloppy pussy with swift, deep fucking motions as if driven to make her want him to get her pregnant.

But of course the intensity of their one on one scenes had paled in comparison with the 2 on one sequences as Krillin continued his absolute dominance of the work-out queens of Lust. Fucking one doggy style (appropriately enough) or in missionary as she ate the other girl out to one of them sitting on his face as he drank of their juices while having the other one ride him cowgirl style. The 2 so overwhelmed with orgasmic overdose that they found themselves making out with one another just to motivate and spur him further on in his sexual conquest. The literal peak climax achieved with one final load blow each into their pussies, followed by staking his claim and marking his territory as he stroked off and sprayed their sweety, furry fucked bodies with his seed.....

Krillin:*When he's finally done, he walks out adjusting his towel back on, the camera showing the two horny gym laying down exhausted with smiles of erotic satisfaction and bliss as he quipped to them.* "Thanks for the massage, ladies. If you want some lessons on stamina, here's my address. Well have a fun time."*Leaving them a business card for good measure like an absolute boss. He then walks out the gym, towel around his waist with a grin, Todd looking on in awe and nodding in respect. The little dude just made himself a goddamn legend.*

Our anonymous viewer was more than glad to leave a thumbs up and a 5 star review for that video, saving it to their playlist for later re-watch. Their cursor hovering over and clicking the background information details which shared snippets of an interview with Patty and Dal a few days after that video had wrapped up shooting. The gym babes more than generous with the praise for their human co-star as Dal revealed she'd even taken to hanging out with Krillin on and off the sets and become something of his personal trainer. Not that the little guy needed it but it was clear he more than welcomed what her intent was as the Dalmatian fitness sexbomb hyped up some special treat for her upcoming posts on her OnlyZ2Fans page.

Suffice to say, the viewer made a note to save the date for that event while they took to bookmarking Don Juan Sanchez as a favourite search result. The cursor scrolling throughout to select a few key short videos and movies to watch later when they had a chance before moving on through Double Z studios' website. Looking to see if there was anything else of interest in regards to new favourite pornstar while having added a new set of numbers to the recent viewcounts. Somedays it truly was sweet what you could find online when you knew the right places to look.....