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terrence-silver · 1 month

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What if beloved went up to terry (all eras) and was like “good job soldier” because he was doing a task and he finished it perfectly and beloved wanted to praise him for it tho they hoped that didn’t trigger terry military days and was saying it to be sweet and humorous

---

― What if Twig just didn't catch it instantly? What if what beloved said just flies right over his head? What if he treated it like a second name because it is so deeply ingrained in him and the habit is yet to start fading --- will it ever actually fade, though? Can such things ever really fade? Like, lets say the war is still near and fresh in his mind, and he just rotated back to the world, so to be referred to as a 'soldier' almost comes instinctual for a brief blip and he might respond to it with a no nonsense 'thanks' without any further reactions right before it hits him that he's at home. With you. He's not in fact, in the army anymore, which leads to a little bit of unassuming confusion --- maybe him being flustered or awkward about it because he fell for that one. Walked right into it. What's next? He'll start responding to the name 'Twig' too? Maybe he tries to smile it off, brush it off as nothing, maybe he's visibly taken aback. Maybe he blushes. Maybe he blinks rapidly. Maybe he looks away. Perhaps he's fidgety in his own skin in that brief nanosecond it takes him to understand it's a joke and he just took it extremely literally. Maybe a combination of all of those variables. Whatever the case, he's not really offended at beloved necessarily and more so at himself for failing to seamlessly socialize back into society, and by extension, the way he'd see it, he has a weakness, right there, on display, gaping, bleeding and still raw and as a result, a young Terry might overcompensate. Hides a barrage of personal triggers under a whole lot of humor, a whole lot of rictus grin smiling, a faux-cool attitude, a great many facades and he pitches ever deeper into learning the art of social convection so well, he almost comes off as 'too much' and extravagant sometimes. Too aminated. Too excitable. Too energized. Too slick. Until it becomes genuine and more him than he ever was. But, everything's better than people perceiving you with a vulnerability, right? Especially if it is someone you love, seeing as how he desperately wants you to admire him as strong, reliable and desirable, so next time beloved you calls him soldier he'll show them just why he absolutely lives up to that title, maybe in ways to conceal the fact that the last time beloved called him that he had a quietly visceral reaction that made him want to reinvent himself whole.

― 80's Terry gets horny and dangerous. There's no two ways about it. It is as blunt as that. It's like something in his brain clicks off the minute he hears 'Good Job, soldier.' fall from beloved's lips and he gets that look in his eyes and there it is, a lizard-like, primal mindset takes over. That killer instinct. It's re-awoken. He very well could be in their space and in their face within in an instant, goading them, looming over them, sauntering over to them like a predator, demanding clarification. Taunting and teasing. Cornering them. Asking them to say that again. Daring them. He wants them intimidated. He wants that jokey, carefree sweetness of theirs mingled with the potent cocktail of fear. He wants them squashed. He's halfway between being murderously serious, unblinking eyes, and on the verge of bursting out laughing because not even he is taking this bit of beloved's humor as severely as he makes it seem; he's just playing it up really as a reverse-joke that comes off as genuinely frightening --- but that's the point. He wants beloved jumpy almost in ways as retaliation for catching him unawares with what they've uttered. In any regard, he's hard as a rock. Oh, so you wanna play these war games, huh? You sure about that? There's no half-assed answers in this dojo. Because so many ideas are running through this mind in that moment. So many things he could do to beloved, inspired by their words. Should he let them loose in a patch of wilderness and give chase to them? Show them some real bit of field soldiery? Should he tackle them to the ground? Put them in a headlock? Wrestle them? Grab them by the throat? Discipline them? Step on them? Spit on them? Maybe beloved should get down on their knees and be very literal with what a fine soldier they think he is and pay some homage, huh? Either ways, beloved isn't leaving that room unfucked, seeing how Terry in this era of his life is tripping on way too much power, coke, self satisfaction and self assurance to be triggered in the classical sense, but perhaps, the excess sexual energy he displays just off of being called soldier is a trigger reaction all on its own because screwing beloved's brain out into next week is just about how he copes. Probably smiles and cackles throughout the whole thing too.

― Old man Terry? Well, he might be most affected out of the bunch if beloved hits him with a well intentioned 'Good job, Soldier!' after a task finely done. Why, you may ask? Well, because he probably wasn't referred to as a soldier for over --- what --- forty years now? Maybe more? And when he gets referred to as such...it's almost like a bit of a shock for him, reasonably speaking. Excuse the weird analogy, but it is almost like utilizing a dead name he'd rather have tucked away somewhere in the recess of his mind; he's by no means forgotten who he is, but you have to understand...it's been a long, long, long ass time. This is the one time in his life he could very well, for lack of a better word, be triggered by the moniker even though the war has never been further away from him than it is at this very point in time. He's in fact possibly more triggered now, at his old age, than he would've been freshly back from Vietnam as a young man. Impressions had time to settle in. Traumas had a whole lifetime to ripen and take root deep, deep inside, becoming a part of him. He had actual decades to contemplate and live with what happened to him there, either through therapy, introspection, suppression, repression, reinvention or denial; what he lived through, witnessed, what he did, what was done to him. You know how victims of abuse often don't even realize they've been abused in the first place as it happens, or even afterwards and it takes years for it to hit them? Such is the case with Terry here. That whole 'soldier' thing takes him right back to the time where all that nonsense happened and while he might not exactly have a clearly defined reaction even as beloved says it (man is astounding at maintaining a poker face when he wants to) in the days to follow, he will quench all of it by drinking. Not that he wasn't turned on. Not that he didn't catch beloved's attempt at sweettalking and a completement. It resurfaced hurt and more complicated memories and feelings than can ever be explained to a civilian and it is just necessarily to drown all that baggage he has in some liquor. He knows he will be okay. He knows they meant well. He'll join beloved in bed later and give them some taste of soldiery if they're keen --- but for now, he needs a drink and he needs to let his thoughts sit for a while and it is as simple as that. He'll laugh about this later...just not now.

#terry silver #kk3 #cobra kai #tw; ptsd #tw; wartime trauma #tw; triggers #tw; vietnam #terry silver x reader #terry silver x beloved #angst #terry silver twig #twig terry silver #80's terry silver #old man terry

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witchofthesouls · 2 years

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Could we get more of that bayverse carrier story? I'm invested

Let's goooo:

Heed the warnings because Bayverse is really fucked up when you think about it: noncon body modification, unethical human experimentation, unplanned/accidental pregnancy of the hybrid kind, unhealthy coping mechanisms, implications of fuck or die aspects of heats

When you fall asleep clutching his avatar in a solid death grip Optimus didn’t have the spark to dissipate it. Keeping most of his focus in his frame and devoting a bit of energy to keep your sleep calm and dreamless.

Humans can’t purr. But here you are, in his arms, purring in a way that is reminiscent of a distressed carrier in need of comfort.

Ratchet is pushing to get baseline readings, more so after you knocked him out but Optimus isn't budging.

It’s a lot to take in and Optimus hadn’t even breached why they were searching for you…

Ratchet is beyond words, mentally slapping himself, his Prime, Megatron, Primus, Unicron, and the rest of them as well as damning Sector Seven to the deepest, coldest parts of the universe.

You are easily the most skittish carrier the Autobots had ever dealt with. Not only it was a pain in the T-cog to get near your vicinity, but Cybertronian feral-protocols and human instincts had meshed bizarrely well. You spook quickly and with your nifty blackout trick, it makes sense how the hell you were able to make a fast getaway from the multiple attempts to capture you.

You're also the most cognizant feral carrier ever seen. Even when you had to be coaxed out of Optimus' alt-mode after crashing inside him for a few days, you can be reasoned with.

On Cybertron, when a carriage hits a certain point -sparklet has dropped below and was in the construction phase - it refuses to be terminated, it pulls and pulls from the carrier's own frame to the point of cannibalization. Heat is the first step of a downward spiral, a carrier’s last-ditch effort to call donors for resources. When that fails, then a carrier enters a feral state that’s akin to Empties -losing logical centers and physical sensation as their frame focuses on one thing only: consumption.

Everyone can tell you're in poor health. Not just your wan, underweight appearance, but with that hyperactive fight-or-flight response that caused you to break the medbay from the overwhelming dunk of staticky, prickly sensation of the scanner. It cuts you off from outside interference, including Optimus in the distance. You threw yourself out of Ratchet’s palm and hit the ground running in a wild goose chase across the base…

You're famished. Constantly hungry. Optimus had witnessed you bouncing from buffet to buffet in Las Vegas. Despite your underweight frame, you put away an incredible amount of food as if a blackhole had taken residence in your belly.

You practically hide under Optimus’ presence since whatever trick he does silences the lizard brain as his energy/field massages the paranoia to sleep as it plays up and down your spine and your skin buzzes pleasantly.

Part of it is the nanites struggling to reinforce and heal your body, trying to bridge the gaps between human and Cybertronian, plugging into parts similar enough for its own framework. You’re small and vulnerable with no systems of natural defense but very quick and resilient; so it boosts such aspects as it pushes you to flee from danger. Part of it is the sparklet’s own instinctive response to a familiar signature since Optimus and Megatron are brothers.

You can’t help but laugh at the newest bout of information outside of live giant aliens of a mechanical nature and secret government organization that may have gone AWOL from the government that’s dealing with alien and human experimentation. Oh no, said the puke-green alien doctor as you sit on a giant alien medical table, you’re not actively dying. Far from it. Whatever was done seems to turn you into a cyborg and you’re pregnant to boot. Congratulations.

Between the sickness, the experimental treatments, and weight loss, it’s easy to brush away the lack of menstruation, increased hunger, the onslaught of chills, deep-seated suspicion over everything, and so much more, especially with the strongest evidence of all: multiple negative pregnancy tests.

You’ve been terrified about that, especially since your skin seems to settle only with unprotected sex. The countless receipts of different condoms, lubes, toys, and extensive web searches regarding sex positions are a monument to your exhausting efforts. Hands and mouths can’t even take off the edge and pulling out leaves you far more restless and anxious.

You tried so many other things to release tension and settle your nerves. Teas, meditation, medication, exercise, alcohol, weed, and so much more. And nothing could shut your body and mind enough to sleep peacefully than getting fucked raw and creampied.

If you were pregnant, then there should be a baby bump or the related hormones of an active pregnancy, especially after a year on your own.

Of course, it smacks you in the face with the sonogram check. You have no idea what an alien fetus is supposed to look like. Maybe naked gears and cables and something like the guts of a car and clock with a steampunk aesthetic, but inside your womb is something else entirely. It reminds you of quicksilver; the liquid mass bright and squirming as it reacts to Ratchet’s probing, within the blob, there’s a luminous shine of a miniature star; a sparklet, he says, small but healthy.

It’s a lot to take in and the conflicting emotions flood you to incoherency. Ratchet is far better prepared this time as he places something like a weighted blanket over your distressed self. It swallows your whole and it should be claustrophobic, but it isn’t. Not at all. It does something strange to leave you heaving for air, but lying still under it.

You felt Optimus’ presence before his voice registered in your ears. There’s a myriad of emotions. You want to laugh, to cry, to throw things, to explode something. You want to flee far away. You want to crawl into his cab and never come out. You want to be held. You want to be left alone. You want to throw the stupid blanket at Ratchet’s feet. You want to squirrel it away and curl up into it as Optimus’ field pets and play with your spine in that soothing way…

Within six months, there's improvement in your overall health. Not only are you regaining and maintaining some weight, your sleep has stabilized as did your intake and mood. You’re on doctor’s orders to room with Optimus and get boned at least twice a day.

Between Ratchet's constant monitoring and carefully vetted dietitians' recommendations, you eat enough calories to feed a full football team. There’s no issue with over-supplementing your organic body. Carriage is a heavy resource-intensive process, it funnels so much material into construction as well as your own repair that you don't have negative side effects associated with consuming a vast quantity of minerals and vitamins.

You’re no longer stuffing your face with desperate gusto, no matter how steamy and hot the food comes out. Burns didn’t matter, your healing factor is accelerated. It’s far more moderate and now you regained the patience to cook and actually enjoy flavors.

You were ashamed to admit that your cravings included non-food items as well. You washed and sucked on spare change, chewed on mechanical writing and dining utensils, and had the urge to either lick or nibble on metal ornaments in antique shops.

There were cravings for charcoal and clay as well. Easy to get with the diet and health trends.

Even the 'bots that rarely interact with the base's carrier can tell your health is improving. That strange, chaotic EM field is far less jarring from the overwhelming stress and panic nipping at it.

You don't know why you keep getting surprised by your life at this point, not only Optimus could produce a very realistic human avatar, but the 30-feet mech could literally shrink himself to a more human-friendly height.

He's very patient with you poking and prodding every bit of him, even letting you tug on his person. You have a lot of questions and he doesn't mind answering, but Optimus can't tell if you're serious or rhetorical based on all the fucks you keep muttering.

Optimus isn't surprised by the gasps and chokes of fucks that keen out of your mouth and he slides into your tight body. That strange field of yours and the newspark's react as if he's with a needy carrier, which you are one. That frenzied hum of energy that tugs on his spark and the Matrix purrs as your legs are wrapped around him, keening loudly.

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kittymaine · 1 year

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Cirice

Summary: Jean-Paul Valley is the Batman that Tim can never support, but unfortunately, Jean-Paul doesn't feel the same way about Tim as his Robin.

Whumptober fill day ten. Prompt: "Can't you see that you're lost without me?" from Cirice by Ghost.

Azrael terrified Tim more than he wanted to admit.

He was a religious zealot, more violent and brutal when taking down criminals than Bruce ever was, even in his darkest moments after Jason's death. He had no regard for innocent civilians caught in the crossfire of his fights. And, worst of all, he seemed to be severely mentally disturbed and only getting worse all the time.

Tim had barely been Robin for a month, had hardly had a chance to show Bruce what he had learned from Lady Shiva and King Snake, before Bane had snapped Bruce's back like a yard stick. Bruce had told Tim to work with Azrael, that he would be Batman until he could get back on his feet. But, again, Azrael absolutely terrified Tim.

"I can feel you, Robin," Jean-Paul said, despite having his back turned to where Tim was hiding in the deep shadows of the cave near where he had entered from the edge of the Drake property. "You cannot hide in the darkness."

It was only eight o'clock, but Azrael was already in full Batman regalia. The sun had barely set, but he had the huge metal suit already on, mask and all. Tim was dressed in his Robin suit, as well. He had changed in the cave, because he wanted to be ready to leave as soon as possible. In and out, that was what he had promised himself.

"I'm just here to get the Redbird, and then I'm gone," Tim said in a firm voice. He didn't bother to step out of the shadows, though, on the off chance that Azrael had heard him but didn't know where he was yet.

Jean-Paul straightened up from where he had been bent over a work table, all manner of mechanical bits and bobs strewn out around him. Tim was excellent with technology, but he had no idea what someone could make with the mess Jean-Paul had in front of him. When he had asked him once how he knew how to build his suit, he told Tim that the voice of God advised him on how to do it. Tim didn't ask him any more questions after that.

"Can you hear the rumbling?" Azrael asked, still facing away from Tim.

He could hear it, in fact. Even deep underground, the sound of thunder echoed down into the Bat cave. There was supposed to be a huge storm moving into Gotham that night, which was the primary reason Tim really wanted to take the Redbird out on patrol rather than running around in the rain. It would be a lot more comfortable to tool around Gotham in a shiny red sports car, that was certain.

"The city is calling us, Robin," Azrael said, turning to Tim, the glowing yellow slits in his metal helmet pointing directly at where Tim had been hiding. He clearly knew exactly where Tim was.

Reluctantly, Tim stepped out of the shadows. There was no use skulking around if Jean-Paul already knew where he was.

"That's why I'm getting the Redbird," Tim said slowly, trying to reign in his own frustration and the intense instinct he had to cut his losses and run. He wasn’t a coward, absolutely not! But, Azrael really set off every single alarm his lizard brain had on hand. He just wanted to get his car and get out of the cave as soon as possible. Azrael was putting every hair on his body on end.

"I know that your soul is not tainted, Robin. That's why I need you," Azrael implored, taking one big step toward Tim, his hands stretched out with his palms up.

Tim couldn't stop himself from jerking backward at his approach, his back pressing into the rough cave wall behind him.

Azrael took another two big steps forward, advancing suddenly. Tim startled hard, but there was nowhere to go. Almost before he could register it happening, Azrael was pinning him in against the wall, his metal gauntlets clanging against the rock where they pressed on either side of Tim’s head.

Tim's breath was coming fast. He could fight, he knew he could. He had been trained by one of the most merciless assassins in the world and then defeated one of the best martial artists in the world to show her he had mastered what she had taught him. But, Tim was still a thirteen-year-old boy and Azrael was a huge man covered in a high-tech suit of armor, pinning him against a cave wall deep underground. No one knew Tim was down there with him, no one would know where to look, and the only person who did was currently bedridden with a broken back.

"Can't you see that you're lost, Robin?" Azrael said, his tone gentle but the sound harsh through the vocoder in his helmet. His hand came close to Tim's face, almost like he was going to cup his cheek, before he changed his mind and instead put his hand on Tim's shoulder. Tim shivered. "Can't you see that you're lost without me? Robin needs Batman as much as Batman needs Robin."

Tim's heart was beating so fast. He could feel a cold sweat breaking out over his neck and back. He didn't think he could take any more of Jean-Paul's terrifying ramblings.

With a desperate kick to his shin, Tim was able to unbalance Azrael just long enough to duck out under one of his arms and run with all his strength as fast as he could for the cave he had used to enter the Bat cave.

"I can see through you, Robin!" Jean-Paul called after him, sounding suspiciously on the edge of tears. "I can see your heart!"

Tim bit back on the string of nasty names he wanted to shout over his shoulder and just kept running. Maybe Robin needed a batman, but Jean-Paul was not Batman. Tim would rather brave the rain.

#whumptober2023 #no.10 #“can't you see that you're lost without me”#dc comics #fanfiction #batman #jean-paul valley #azrael #tim drake #robin #religious rhetoric #remember that time jean-paul was batman?#and he choked out tim and kicked him out of the batcave?#when he had only been robin for like two seconds?#anyway this is me riffing on that but to a ghost song lol #kittywrites

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franciskirkland · 1 year

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For fruk?

i'd love to!!! thanks anon 🥺🥺💖💖

Gives nose/forehead kisses: hmmm equally. they are so in love ughhh. lots of forehead, cheek, nose and jaw kisses. each definitely has their own spots they like to kiss though, Francis loves to rub their noses together and kiss his neck/shoulders, whereas Arthur loves to kiss his cheeks and hands!

Gets jealous the most: Arthur. definitely has some kind of complex going on with his self esteem re: Francis being so attractive and he feels like Just Some Guy or not worthy.

Takes care of on sick days: so i would say both, but hear this; Arthur is totally that guy who does the man-flu act when he's sick, like if he has a lil cold he'll want to be babied and Francis will absolutely give in. on the other hand, Fran is such a drama queen, he'll pout all day if he like, stubs his toe or nicks a finger cooking, but he could be coughing up a lung and he'd be so in denial about it while Arthur is like you're going to the Hospital

Drags the other person out into the water on beach day: definitely Francis, Arthur didn't even want to go to the beach anyway.

Brings the other lunch at work: Franny!!! esp if he's a housewife (yes i'm using this term, fight me) he loves to show up at his man's work unannounced just being the adorable annoying lil shit he is. Artie loves it.

Tries to start role-playing in bed: hmmm these two are kinky fuckers so it could be either one. i think it'd be cute if they have something that might start as a joke but they'd actually take it to the bedroom and they're like... oh shit that's actually rly hot

Embarrassingly drunk dancer: Arthur, most definitely. not even in a funny way, like he'll get plastered and think he can actually dance and it's pathetic to watch.

Firmly believes in couples costumes: Francis! usually Arthur is highly reluctant but if it's clever enough he'll give in. would also love to see them go to a party as catboy/nurse with like this grumpy old dude in a nurse's dress and Fran's friends would get a kick out of it

Breaks the expensive gift rule during Christmas: both of them, it's a competition and they love spoiling each other. punk Arthur hates consumerism though, so probs not him. (hhhh he's such a sweetie tho)

Makes the other eat breakfast: Franny, his husband would literally starve without him.

Remembers anniversaries: Francis always remembers, Arthur might surprise him though

Brings up having kids first: I'd say it's mutual. depends on the AU really. i do love single dad Arthur, and i think they'd both be excited to have more. in an AU where they don't have any yet, Francis might be more likely to bring it up bc u know he has that maternal instinct. also Arthur comes from a big family so i def see him as eager to be a Dad. again, could be either!

Kills the bugs: Arthur, no questions asked. bc Franny is his princess and will Scream at an ant. also obligatory 'he pretends to take them outside but his brain goes lizard mode and he eats them bc he is a feral cave goblin'

First to define them as a couple: hmm this is a good question. also depends on the AU. again i feel like this is something mutual. they're both impatient, so.

Who hides their guilty pleasures longer: Arthur. Francis hides nothing. Artie knows all his bad habits but he pretends not to have his own (he definitely does and they will appear)

Snorts while laughing: Francis! i picture Arthur as having either like an evil laugh or a warm chuckle but we all know how Fran babe laughs. god he's adorable. this was rly fun i loved it.

#spiders Arthur #ask and ye shall receive #ask game #ask meme #thank u anon ily #ukfr #fruk #aph france #aph england #francis bonnefoy #arthur kirkland #mommy and daddy

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greatsnakestintin · 2 years

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You've heard/read the Dragon in a Cup/Folgers joke right? What about Eddie finding a little dragon in his coffee mug one day, goes absolutely BANANAS over this dragon, and shows it off to the Hellfire Club, who also go Bananas. Except Dustin points out the dragon has an unruly mop of hair on top of its head, which seems weird for a dragon.

But hey, dragons aren't real, right?

But the hair color is kind of familiar, but no one can place it. And the dragon has little pale-red scales, with makes the brown a little bit more brown, if that even makes sense.

Meanwhile, Robin's wondering where Steve is. She hasn't seen him in forever. It's been like a whole day! So she's furiously looking for her missing friend.

And Steve? Steve is working on the dragon instinct to hoard, to keep, to protect. The treasure isn't the cup, that's just where Steve's lizard brain thought would be a great place to hide, so he ducked into a mug on the table in hopes of not being found to nearly get scalded by coffee! Wait, can he even be scalded as a dragon? This begs questions!

And Dustin can't take the group calling him "dragon" any more, because what if there are others? And he's such a little guy... what if there are much bigger ones?

Eddie peers down at this little dragon that won't leave him alone and is currently choking him with his tail as it rides his shoulder and is, frankly, ruining perfectly good clothes man, and going, "I get it! Maxwell!"

Groans all around.

Eddie goes, "Look guy, I found him in a COFFE CUP, what do you want from me?"

And Dustin snaps his fingers. "Folgers," he cries. "Like on TV!" Eddie pulls a face but frankly, Max is a little weird when they all know a Max. The dragon squeaks and hides in Eddie's hair. With one massive (by comparison) beringed finger, Eddie soothes his little dragon buddy with a stroke down its spine, making it into a boneless pile of goo.

Now, if he could just convince the damn thing to let him use his own pillow.

DRAGON STEVIE IM NOT OKAY LITTLE DRAGON STEVE CURLING UP IN EDDIE’S NECK CAUSE ITS WARM

#thank you thank you thank you #ramblings #answering anons #steddie

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hollow-prey · 2 years

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Ideas with my f/os that occupy way too much space in my brain

If Grimm ever wore formal attire like in some of his Brave Souls cards...goodbye. If I could somehow figure out how to incorporate those outfits into a story without making it cringe or feeling like Grimm would Fucking Hate every second of it, I would. The Brave Souls cards are so good dude I need to write AUs for all of them. The white day cards snipe me on the spot.

also just Grimm being a huge cuddle bug once he gets settled in the human world. Anyone who says he wouldn't be soft and cuddly and affectionate with a human partner is a coward. This man wants affection every second of the day, he loves curling up with Cyr and soaking in her warmth like a lizard laying on a hot rock. Cyr will absently run her hand through his hair and the cat is purring like a motor boat. ADDITIONALLY, whenever Cyr is sick or not feeling well (physically or mentally), Grimm will take it upon himself to cuddle up with her both to protect Cyr and to help her feel better. If anyone gets too close without Cyr's permission he starts growling. If they don't back off he will swipe at them and it will hurt

Phoenix, without a doubt, gives some of the best hugs out of all my boys. There is something about him, and maybe it's how laidback and friendly he is, that tells me his hugs would be fantastic, especially if I've had a bad day and need some comfort and sweet affection. And he's the type who would keep the hug going for as long as you wanted; none of this "pulling away after only five seconds" stuff.

The whole "forbidden romance" trope that plays into Cyr and Razer's relationship...Cyr trying to hide the fact that she's seeing the enemy from Jak and the others...Razer trying to secretly keep Cyr safe from Mizo and all his Shady Business, the pressure and stress mounting on both of them and the tension finally making them snap during one of their meetups. More than likely this "snap" results in them making out because they've been trying to hold back and keep it chill and casual for so long despite the fact that their feelings are now long past the point of "chill and casual"

Errol being an unhinged little freak and yet he's so so loving and sweet and gentle with Cyr. He might get a little frisky now and then but the moment Cyr shows any sign of being uncomfortable he stops, because Errol's desire to protect and love Cyr is greater than whatever feral instincts might have started to take over

Cyr being possessed by another void-demon entity similar to Anti who's jealous of my relationship with him, and Anti is trying to figure out how to get rid of the entity and get Cyr back because the only one he wants is ME.

Yes I know this goes completely against the canon lore but just humor me for a minute: Anti is already intense and chaotic as hell, and that would absolutely translate over to his relationships. When he falls, he falls hard, he is the most ride-or-die entity out there, and thinking of him just being so attached to Cyr and caring about her so much and thinking of how intensely he would show his affections...it Does things to me

#ship: hollow prey #mythic dawn #smoke & mirrors #krimzon reign #corrupted data #if I'm not working on a story than one or more of these ideas is on rotation in my brain at any given time #ellie rambles

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twst-drabbles · 2 years

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Leona 8

Summary: Every obsession starts with a set of pathetic excuses.

(In terms of his role in the story, Leona is not my favorite, in terms of using him in any little writings I have, he’s pretty fun to use.)

You have no scent.

Of course that makes it easy to sleep around you, to snore the world away as you pass by him without so much as rousing his needle sharp instincts. Leona had the misfortune of having a sensitive nose. People such as that lizard are always pungent to him. The smell crawls into his head, stings his brain and pokes at the ever lit fire of annoyance in him.

It’s only natural he wouldn’t notice you sitting on the other side of the tree he likes to nap on, reviewing notes and skidding a highlighter over keywords. The noise of crinkling paper woke him up, but the breeze blowing through was too nice to get up and walk away from.

Leona can sleep anywhere, if given enough time, but still, he needed time. Any changes to usual yanks him from his sleep, but with no scent, you were practically not there at all. He can ignore you with ease. He can ignore the soft mutterings of your voice, can ignore hums and sighs as you shifted about, can ignore the smell of your clothing because you yourself had no scent. He can sleep soundly even as you followed him in his dreams.

This place is a hungry den of beasts.

Without magic, you may as well be a blob of boneless flesh. Leona wished to say he couldn’t understand the sure click to your steps, the relaxed arch of your back when you sat, the steady tone to your voice, but he does know. No matter how many layers of spells and magic theory one may hide under, invincibility will never be within reach. With the right move, with the right steps, anyone can become a useless sack of meat. You understood this better than he had, otherwise, why would you have survived at all, in this college?

But Leona also knew of it. There was no magic to you to conceal your weakness. A careless misfire and you’d suddenly be missing a lung, or a spine, or a heart. You defeated him. You managed to lead a dance through his storm of sand. If you were to fall because of something as small as an accident, then Leona would be weaker than the rest of this college.

So, it’s only natural he would be aware of you, of when you dive into a crowd to get your lunch, of when you pass by his class even though the door was only an inch open, of when you gave a smirk as you ribbed at your little buddies. One wrong move, and every one of these students will see you as an open target that you are not.

His ego needs to be torn out of him.

This little imitation of a dog has been barking nonstop. It’s nonsense, always a ear grating scramble of words that only follows whatever shiny thing is dangled in front of his dumb eyes. Whenever Leona is taking a nap, this pathetic excuse of a college student would stomp so loud, as though announcing his presence for anyone with one working ear. Low life’s like this one should learn to keep their heads down, learn to pop their ego before someone truly worthy of anything comes along and eats them up.

Besides, if anyone is dumb enough to bump into you, unskilled enough to not notice you and even yell at you for the sake of saving their own hurt ego, Leona doesn’t want them in his dorm at all.

This student will be kicked out within three days. Leona will make him resign, if he doesn’t send him to his home in a coffin.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst-drabbles #ask #drabble #savanaclaw #leona #leona kingscholar #yandere #reader insert

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jedipoodoo · 3 years

Text

Get This Right (Hunter x Pregnant!Reader)

Word Count: 1090

Warnings: None

Notes: This has been in my brain all day and I'm writing this as I f a l l a s l e e p so I may not be the happiest with it in the morning. I was just tired of the Hunter tag not updating. You know what they say, be the change you want to see in the world.

PART ONE | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Hunter had to know something was up. He could read you like a book.

There was hardly a time or place to talk about it, being tossed from mission to mission by Cid and unable to find space or privacy above the ship in their precious downtime. Something always needed attention, from the budget, to repairs, to training Omega, to Wrecker’s affinity for Mantell Mix, the two of you barely had time to fall into bed before you collapsed from Exhaustion

It wasn’t until Cid announced drinks on her in honor of your latest success that the two of you were able to catch up.

“Count me out. I’ve got some research I’ve been working on,” You nodded to Echo, and ducked back inside the Marauder before settling in front of the navicomputer. You could hear Hunter on the ramp.

“Take Omega with you?” He asked Echo. Echo must have grunted an affirmative, because Omega cheered and her tiny boots pattered on the dust of the hangar as she ran after Tech and Wrecker.

Soon enough, you felt Hunter’s arms around you, pinning you to the back of the chair as he leaned around to kiss your cheek.

“How are you, love?” He asked.

“Exhausted,” You entered your query before reaching up to thread your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.

“You?”

“Better, now that I’m with you.” His hand slid down your shoulder to your hand as he collapsed into the other chair in front of the console.

“What’re you looking at?” He asked, glancing at the screens.

You bit your lip nervously. “Do you remember Idaflor?”

“Idaflor?” He ran a hand through his hair. “Was that with the lizard that stole our power coupling?”

“Just before,” You giggled, manipulating the image onscreen to show the details of the planet. It was semi-arid, mostly uninhabited with the exception of several farming communities.

“We didn’t actually go there, just talked about it. But that was-”

“Just before Pantora, when we ran into Shand for the first time,” Hunter leaned forward.

You nodded. “I know why we didn’t head there afterward, but I was just curious, as to what it might be like there.”

Hunter glanced at the holo of a farmer showing off his hard-earned produce, “You interested in a farmer’s life?”

You failed to hide a snort, “Well, the image of you in overalls and a straw hat is tempting.”

“Is it now?” His chest puffed out as he folded his arms and smirked at you.

You flipped through several more holos to show him. “Tech would have a field day developing irrigation systems, and Wrecker would love raising farm animals. Omega could run around without worrying about getting into trouble, and Echo wouldn’t have to worry about hiding his prosthetics.”

Hunter gazed at you, his eyes soft, “You’ve put a lot of thought into this, haven’t you?”

“Yeah,” You admitted sheepishly. It was now or never, you had to tell him.

“It just seems like a nice place to raise a family.”

Hunter nodded, and his eyes flicked back to the screen for a moment.

Then he paused.

He turned you to face him, staring deep into your eyes.

You breathed deeply. Did he get it? Did he understand?

Hunter stared at you for a moment longer. Looking, listening. Slowly, what had seemed so off about you for the past few weeks clicked into place for him.

“You’re pregnant?”

You had talked about children before, back when the war raged around you and the idea of peace and settling down seemed so far away.

It still did, you realized. Even with the confirmation from the medical droid and the instinct you felt deep in your soul. How could you bring a child into this world? The world where a tyrannical Empire reigned in terror over innocent minorities and you, your husband, and his vode were dragged all over the galaxy to make even the slightest scrap of credits. That wasn’t the kind of life a child deserved.

But hearing Hunter say it made it sound so much more real.

You nodded.

“I’m pregnant.”

Hunter took a deep breath as you confirmed the truth. He gently took your face in his hands, pressing your foreheads together.

“You’re scared,” He whispered as you trembled beneath his touch.

“Terrified,” you gulped. “You?”

“Terrified,” He agreed. His forehead was still pressed against yours, a soothing, steady presence as you forced your heartbeat to calm.

“What are we gonna do?” You asked, timid and quiet.

“First question, do you want the baby?” Hunter asked, he backed away only a bit, just enough that he could meet your eyes again.

“Yes,” You told him, “More than anything.”

He nodded. You knew him well enough to know his answer to the same question. You could see it in every question Omega asked, in every energetic shove from Wrecker, in quiet nights with his head resting on your lap while Echo and Tech talked nonsense.

“Then this is a happy moment,” He murmured, his thumb coming up to wipe away the single tear that trickled down your cheek.

“The happiest moment of my life,” he kissed your forehead.

“But Hunter-” The words caught in your throat even as he waited patiently for you to continue.

“Is this the kind of life we can give a child?” You asked.

He slid his fingers into place between yours. “Then we’ll make a new one.”

“And what about Cid? Your brothers, the Empire-”

“One thing at a time, my love,” He said. “We can do this.”

You nodded, leaning in to kiss him on the lips.

“I love you,” You gasped, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” He said immediately. He couldn’t hold it back anymore, and a smile quirked up in the corner of his mouth, half-hidden by the shadow of his tattoo.

“We’re going to have a baby.”

The joy is contagious, and you let it bubble up in your chest like a hot spring. “We’re going to have a baby,” You giggled.

He pulled you to your feet, wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“I love you,” He said, unable to say anything else, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

It’s the song he sang in your ear as you pressed your face into his chest.

You could do this. You could do this.

Clone Force Ninety-Nine had a one hundred percent success rate under their sergeant.

Now to see how they fared against an infant.

#tbb x reader #tbb hunter #tbb hunter x reader #sergeant hunter #sergeant hunter x reader #lizart writes #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch #hunter x pregnant!reader #get this right fic #pregnant reader

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anxious-changeling · 3 years

Note

I saw your ask box was open and wanted to know if you could give HCs on La Squadra x Lizard Folk reader?

I’ve always loved reptiles and he a few ideas where reader could drop their tail, is cold blooded, sharp toothed, basic reptile necessities. But is incredibly skilled with fighting.

I’d love to see The Squads reactions of having a Scaled S/O

La Squadra x Lizard Folk!Reader HCs

This is just (chef kiss) thank you so much for requesting this!!!! We really hope we did your request justice :D

Ngl this makes my brain go brrrrrr

When you first dropped your tail everyone froze like someone had hit pause. It was a nice day and you were wrestling with the boys when Formaggio tackled your tail. On instinct you dropped your tail and watched the chaos bloom. Everyone just stared at your twitching tail as it lay there, and then all hell broke loose.

Illuso, Formaggio, and Pesci screamed while scrambling to get away from your writhing tail. Melone and Ghiaccio just stared at in disgust and awe. Risotto and Prosciutto just stared at it frozen with their mouths open.

All in all it was a hilarious sight that you couldn’t help but laugh at- once everything calmed down and you disposed of your tail you explained everything. Melone pouted a little over not getting to examine it.

Formaggio wouldn’t touch your tail for months afterwards-

Cuddle piles are pretty common! With your cold blooded nature and them being human furnaces prepare for cuddle wars! Every now and then you convince Risotto to join and man does he give off heat-

Every now and then the boys will catch you basking on the roof enjoying the sun, and depending on who it is they’ll join you!

Formaggio, Melone, and Illuso will gladly join you in getting some sun. They to get to see their partner in swimwear? Sign them up <33

Ghiaccio hates to be too hot so he’ll just tell you to hydrate properly before basking.

Risotto and Prosciutto sunburn very easily so that’s a no from them plus they’re very busy. If you can drag them away from work they might sit next to you under an umbrella!

Pesci will hang out with you if it’s dusk because he likes watching the sky! If you want to bask while he fish’s then he’d love that! Prosciutto won’t hang out with him wish he goes fishing and he loves your company!

When you first joined they thought you’d just be another weakling newbie to teach. Man we’re they wrong. Each respectively learned why your species were know to be apex’s for so long.

Razor sharp claws and teeth capable of rendering flesh asunder, and enough strength to easily lift 5 grown men. You were beautiful at your most violent.

Honestly they almost bought the ring then and there- an extremely strong and attractive partner makes their brains melt a little~

They find your 3rd eyelid (nictitating membrane) weird in a cute way! Especially how when they give you a forehead kiss you close your eyes and the membrane <3

They really love when you wrap your tail around their leg as you sleep. Honestly even headass’s Risotto and Ghiaccio don’t want to get up for work when you’re cuddling and wrapped around them!

Expect Melone and Ghiaccio to spider monkey you in their sleep in return, Ghiaccio refused to admit he’s clingy in his sleep though-

If you’re a lizard folk with a different colored tongue they think that’s so interesting! You look like you’re eating blue ice cream 24/7!

Melone, Risotto, and Ghiaccio love to listen to you talk about the specifics of your species! Even going as far to listen for hours as you ramble!

If you want a cool dark place to his Risottos office is the perfect space! Just ignore the constant sound of typing and boom the perfect place to hide! If you’re lucky Risotto might join you for a power nap on the couch <3

When you’re shed comes around usually everyone will help you in their own little ways!

Pesci, Melone, and Formaggio will run you as many baths as you need and get you any shed aid products you might need!

Prosciutto and Ghiaccio will cook for you in preparation for when you’re starving from not eating much due to your shed.

Risotto and Illuso will give you a hand if you need help with stuck shed on your hands or eyes. They’re very gentle don’t worry! You’re in very good hands <3

#la squadra x reader #risotto x reader #formaggio x reader #ghiaccio x reader #illuso x reader #prosciutto x reader #pesci x reader #melone x reader #Lizard Folk!Reader #monster x human #jjba #jjba hcs

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thebountyfucker · 3 years

Text

The Game

18+ ONLY - NSFW

Afab!Reader x Embo, Afab!Reader x Bossk, Afab!Reader x Cad (Not gendered) Tags: Primal play (hunting), voyeurism/exhibitionism, unprotected sex, alien biology, cum eating, PiV sex, anal sex

Summary: Hunting makes a lizard's brain go brrrrrr. (Or, in other words, three hunters hunt you down. Their prize? You)

Here's the link to my masterpost. Want to be tagged in fics like this? Here's my taglist application!

“Ya get ten minutes. Make dem count.” Cad drawled as he glanced down at the chronometer on his wrist gauntlet. You glanced down at your own chronometer, your heart already racing; standing before you were three bounty hunters, each ready to prove their hunting skills in a test of chase. The prize? You. Whoever found you got first dibs on your cunt. Or whatever it was they desired to fuck. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, and you could hardly keep still.

Bossk and Embo had both been rather quiet this entire time - for Embo, this was par for the course. Bossk though… you wondered what was going on in that thick head of his. His nostrils kept flaring, as if trying to take in as much of your scent as possible, which… was likely. He was quite reliant on scent for these sorts of hunting games, which made it near impossible to hide. But that was the fun, you supposed.

The boys got to wander through the abandoned settlement briefly beforehand, getting acquainted with the terrain. Sometimes, they’d go in blind… but you all quickly realized that Cad was at a disadvantage. He was a great tracker, but his tech only went so far. You decided to give him a fighting chance by giving him time to set up traps or… whatever it was he used his tech for. Embo and Bossk got to wander around too, just to keep it fair. But you were going in blind.

Cad gave you the signal and you darted off; you were tempted to glance at them over your shoulder, but you knew that would only slow you down. Ten minutes, in theory, felt like long enough to get away. But you knew otherwise. You had to make each movement count.

You ducked through alleys and down streets, dropping items of clothes to try to throw off Bossk. You did your best to avoid Cad’s motion sensors. You tried to take the least logical path. All the while, your heart was pounding and your cunt was throbbing.

You ran through buildings, bumping up against the walls to transfer more of your scent, and then ran out again. You weaved around an empty marketplace, running circles around wooden stalls and touching everything. To top everything off, you took off your shoes, and chucked them in opposite directions.

Soon enough, your chronometer beeped, letting you know that the boys were officially on the hunt… and you needed to hide out. You decided on a warehouse toward the eastern edge of the settlement; it had multiple levels to it, so you figured you could easily hide there. Just as you reached the doorway, Bossk let out his hunting cry, and spikes of pleasure shot to your cunt. Soon… soon…

You crept through the reception area, trying to touch as little as possible. You knew Cad could track your heat signature, and you knew that Bossk would be able to follow your scent still… but you didn’t want to make it easy for them. You decided it would be best to take your chances upstairs, so you wandered until you found the stairwell, and began your ascension.

Climbing the numerous flights of stairs took a significant amount of time, but you had enough of a head start that it didn’t worry you. Even when Bossk’s calls grew closer. You went up five floors, before traversing down the long, empty hallways. The wind whistled through the bones of this building, drawing shivers up your spine. You weren’t sure why, but you swore you were being watched.

You ducked into a room off of the hall, and spotted a locker that looked like you could hide in it. You only made it about halfway across the room before a hand grasped your wrist and pulled you flush against a warm, hard body. You squirmed against the restrictive hand, startling as another hand was clapped over your mouth.

“Do not scream.” It was Embo. How…? You glanced up over your shoulder, meeting his golden gaze. He winked, and a shiver went down your spine. “I want to see how long it takes for them to find you.”

He eased you back into a corner, his hand moving from your mouth to your hip. He gave it a squeeze, his thumb brushing along the curve of your soft flesh. A foreign heat burned in his chest, and you could tell by the vibrant green tinge to his skin that this hunt had thrilled him. A low purr rumbled from deep in his chest.

“How did you…?”

“Your patterns are predictable. The others are concerned about where you have been… I was concerned about where you would go.” He explained, his voice edged with desire; you whimpered softly. “You go for large structures with many places to hide. You should just keep running. Maybe then Cad would have a chance.”

You fought a chuckle. “Unlike you, I don’t have unlimited stamina.”

“It is a shame.” He mused, the hand on your wrist dropping to grab your other hip. He pulled you flush against him, and he leaned down to whisper in your ear. “It would be much more fun if you did.”

Your breath came out as a shaky rattle, and his hands slid down farther. His large hand cupped your still-clothed cunt, rubbing a thumb over where he supposed your clit was. Your panties dampened as you sunk your teeth into your lip.

“Bossk surely can smell you now, all wet and yearning. He is going to be pissed.”

“Cad’s going to be madder.” You mentioned. Any moment now, the two pissed off hunters would barge in, and the thought of their anger sent spikes of pleasure to your cunt. Embo did not always win, but he won enough… enough to make the other two quite jealous.

He pressed his clothed cock against your back, and you could hardly stop yourself from begging him to fuck you. Not yet, he’d tell you. I want to see their faces when they notice I have won. Embo was not usually one to be conceited, but this game drove them all to their more primal instincts. You reached back to ran a hand along his length, just watching the door.

A loud growl alerted you to Bossk’s presence. He sauntered through the doorway, his teeth bared and his eyes narrowed. He jutted a claw toward Embo, who still had a firm hold on you, as if worried that Bossk would try to wrestle you away from him.

“You cheater!” Bossk roared. Surely this would draw Cad to you, if he wasn’t on the trail already.

“I do not cheat.” Embo replied pointedly.

“You have to! There is no way you found them that quickly!”

As if on cue, Cad stalked through the door; his lips pulled back to reveal his fangs. He leaned against the wall, watching as the other two bickered about ‘what counted as tracking’ and how Embo was ‘a dirty cheat’. You managed to break from Embo’s hold, and you wandered over to Cad.

“Good try?” You offered him, unsure of the mood he’d be in at this point. Judging by his growl, he wasn’t feeling too hot. “Don’t worry… gotta save the best for last, right?”

He quirked a browridge, but seemed to lighten up a bit. Maybe next time, you’d try to give Cad a better chance. You cupped his cheek, and he wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Do not get any ideas, Cad.” Embo frowned, and Cad rolled his eyes.

“Wouldn’t dare.” He released his hold on you, and you moved to the center of the room. You pulled off your undershirt, and tossed it aside, bearing your torso to the boys. Bossk’s pupils dilated as he took in the intoxicating scent of your arousal. Embo’s eyes brightened. Cad just smirked and pulled out a cig.

“Good game, boys. I’ll try to make it last longer next time.” You winked, hooking your fingers around the waistband of your panties. You wondered if their more primal natures would become more intense if they were able to chase longer; honestly, a part of you wanted this. Next time… next time…

You shucked your panties off and tossed them to Bossk, who grappled for them and immediately brought them up to his snout. He inhaled deeply, intoxicated by the scent of your arousal. Embo beckoned to you with a finger, and you flitted toward him, falling to your knees before him. He leaned down to stroke your cheek as you reached for the ties of his skirts. They were, frustratingly, complicated to undo, so despite your best efforts, Embo did most of his own undressing. He neatly folded his clothes and set them atop his armor and hat, before bringing you up to stand.

“Do you need preparation? Or can you take me?” He asked, drawing the pads of his fingers down around your nipples. You bemoaned the fact that you were in an environment where he couldn’t remove his mask, as you knew that he would love to eat you out. But that could wait for another time. Right now, you needed to focus… oh fuck, your pussy was drooling now. Your legs shook as he gingerly pinched your nipples.

“P-please… I need your cock.” You whimpered, and he lifted you up; you wrapped your legs around his waist as he lined his cock up with your cunt. Slowly, he pushed in.

“Did you wish to see them?” Embo asked, his voice surprisingly even as he pushed further into you. You nodded as Embo turned to give you a better look at the other two. Though you’d never admit it, you were aroused at the thought of the other two watching as you were fucked. Bossk’s cocks had slipped out of his slit and were rapidly hardening. You couldn’t see Cad’s hard on, but you knew he would be quick to follow. A part of you wondered if it was just you that turned them on, or if they were also enjoying the view of their rival…

Soon, Embo had bottomed out, completely sheathing himself inside you. You swore his cock had pressed up under your ribs, though you knew this was not possible. You were so completely impaled by him. Your head lolled back as he slowly eased out, and then back in, quickly finding a suitable rhythm that wouldn’t completely wreck your insides.

You glanced over at the boys, watching as they shifted to try to accommodate their hard-ons. Bossk was rubbing a clawed hand over his cocks, still completely intoxicated by your scent. Cad smoked his cig to the butt, before crushing it beneath his boots.

Embo took his time fucking into you. His stamina would allow for him to fuck you all day, but while he was delighted to have you first, he was not greedy. He would allow for Bossk and Cad to have their turns with you.

Every thrust made his nodes drag across your sensitive spots, massaging them in a way that made your head spin and warmth pool in your belly. And when he pressed a thumb to your clit and rubbed, it was game over for you. You orgasmed, your body going limp and your vision going black as you milked his cock for all it was worth.

He would not have given up so easily in a private session, but given that he was not the only one fucking you today, he decided to cum early. He growled softly as he rested his head against yours, shooting his hot cum deep into you. It kept coming and coming… when he finished, he pulled you off his cock and his cum seeped down your thighs.

You wobbled, hardly able to catch your breath before Bossk approached. He had already pulled his cocks from his jumpsuit, and they were twitching for you. First, though… Bossk laid you down on the ground and spread your legs open wide. His tongue flicked out, lapping at the cum which dirtied your thighs; you weren’t sure if he actually enjoyed the taste of another man’s cum, or if he was just trying to clean you. Either way, his tongue slipped into your cunt, slurping up the left over cum like a starving man at a feast. He dragged his tongue in and out, growling and groaning, drawing gasps from deep within you. Heat boiled in your belly, and you felt as though you could cum then and there… but you’d wait as long as you could. You needed Bossk’s cocks…

He lifted your hips, his tongue swirling his lube-like saliva and cum mixture around your asshole. When he felt that you were sufficiently slicked, he situated himself between your legs, and lined up his cocks with your holes. When he pressed in, you let out a howl of pleasure.

He was slow, knowing your ass would need more time to adjust than your cunt would. Your hands went to your breasts as you looked over at Embo and Cad. Embo had found a desk to sit on, and was idly stroking his hardening cock. Cad was finally starting to show his arousal, his cheeks flushed green and a dopey look in his eyes.

“Pretty little prey.” Bossk purred as he stroked a claw along your cheek. “Pretty and tight.”

He eased in further, his cocks rubbing against the thin wall of flesh separating your cunt from your ass. You whined, arching your back and angling your hips toward him. Your legs were already shaking, your toes curling. And when he finally sheathed himself inside you, stars danced in your vision.

“Don’t cum yet, little prey… we’ve only just started.” Bossk eased out, and then back in. Bossk was long - not nearly as long as Embo, though - and his cocks were thick. Where Embo impaled you, Bossk completely stuffed you. Like Embo, though, his cocks pressed through your belly, and you watched as your belly rippled with every thrust.

His tongue snaked out to lick at your nipples, getting them hard; you were desperate for a mouth around them, though you knew Bossk would not be able to fulfill that desire. Maybe Cad would…

Bossk picked up his pace until you orgasmed, shooting fluids all over him; Bossk was quick to follow, his frills expanding to keep you locked onto his cocks. His cum was cool and thick, and filled you up; slowly, his frills deflated, and he pulled out. He was satisfied, but at the same time, like Embo, you knew he wanted more. He backed away, allowing Cad to approach now.

You sat up, watching as Cad pulled his cock out; it was hard and leaking what you assume was Duros precum. You were always shocked by how aroused the boys were; you had originally thought that they’d be turned off by the presence of each other… and yet…

“On yer hands an’ knees, doll.” Cad drawled, and you were quick to oblige. Your swollen, pliant cunt was ready for him, and he reveled in it. He drew a finger between the lips, rubbing Bossk’s cum around as a sort of lubricant, before pressing into you. You twitched around him, every touch sending sharp spikes of pleasure to your cunt; your body was flushed and hot. Your eyes were half-lidded. You were drooling onto the ground. You were so goddamn cock-dumb that it was making Embo and Bossk chuckle.

Cad’s grip on your hips was bruising, and every once in a while, he drew a hand back to smack your ass. You lurched forward with every hit, gasping and whimpering. He was determined to make his mark on you, much more concerned with claiming you than his companions were.

He nipped at your neck and shoulders, thrusting harder and harder into you; his ridges - oh, the ridges!- massaged your sensitive spots, which were already overstimulated from the two previous cocks in you. You could hardly keep yourself up, which Cad hadn’t failed to notice. Instead of holding you up, though, Cad shoved you to the ground, his hand holding your head down on the ground.

“Cad~!” You moaned, your voice pitching up as ecstasy gripped you. The heat in your belly threatened to spill, but you knew Cad didn’t care. He’d fuck you through three orgasms if he wanted.

“Dat’s it, doll. Yell my name. Tell dese idiots who ya belong t’!” He growled, not letting up on his pace. You turned your head to look at Bossk and Embo, noting their continued arousal; something told you that you wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow…

“CAD!” You cried, tension building. You were so goddamn close! If only…

Cad pressed his thumb to your clit and the tension snapped. Fluids rushed out around his cock as your body went limp; your head was in the clouds, high on ecstasy and sex. Every nerve was set ablaze.

You weren’t sure how long your orgasm lasted, only that Cad had continued to fuck into your tightened cunt. He was grunting, and his pace was beginning to falter, but he wouldn’t give up that easily. He tangled a hand in your hair and pulled you up closer to him. He dragged his teeth along your back.

“Yer too good t’ us, doll. Too good.” Cad muttered as he leaned forward, latching over your shoulder. You braced yourself, knowing what came next.

Cad’s pace grew erratic, and before long, he came, biting down into your shoulder as he shot his cum inside you. You cried out, orgasming again - this orgasm caught you off-guard, but you were pleased none the less.

Cad licked away the blood, before easing out of your sore cunt. He sat nearby, his soft cock just bobbing between his legs. The room was silent for a moment, before Embo approached once more.

“Are you able to take more?”

You knew you had a long night ahead of you.

Tags: @doctor-ren, @that-clone-wars-girl, @some-serendipity-snail, @rewin-d

#star wars #star wars smut #cad bane #bossk #embo #reader insert #iri writes #my fanfiction #I have not proof read this #sorry lol #hopefully it isn't too egregious

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98prilla · 4 years

Text

Shifted

Thomas decides to see what all the Side’s animal forms would be. It does not go so well for Anxiety.

This is set pre accepting anxiety, and diverges a little from the cannon of that episode, fair warning.

He is terrified. His heart is pounding as he pulls further back into the shadows, hiding under the couch. He can hear the others out there, talking, laughing, having fun. This isn’t fun.

“An owl? Really, Thomas, owls aren’t even actually smart, their eyes take up much of their cranial cavity.”

“Come on, kiddo, they are symbols of wisdom. And those wings sure must be nifty! I’m having a pawsome time myself!” A groan at the pun.

“I always thought Logan was a bit bird brained.” Roman mutters. “But seriously, a dragon? While the scales are quite flattering, it is a bit strange, considering I usually fight them.”

“I don’t know, Roman, I guess cause you’re always talking about questing I just settled on a fantasy creature. It is pretty cool." He rolls his eyes at the huff of pride he can hear as Roman no doubt puffs up his chest, flares his wings.

“Speaking of strange, where's anxiety?” his ears flatten against his head, pulse picking up again. They’re talking about him.

“He should be here. I did summon him.” Thomas, confused. He curses his inability to sink out in this form.

“Perhaps he has taken the form of a smaller animal and is hiding.” He almost hisses, could Logic shut up for once?

“Aw, maybe we should look for him! He’ll probably be so cute!”

“Please. That weirdo is probably a venomous spider or a little parasite. Who cares, where he is?” yes, thank you Roman, for once being not a moron.

“Patton, if you’re worried perhaps you can sniff him out. You are a cat, after all.” No. Nonono. Logic, shut it!

“Good idea, Logan. Give it a try!” and he is outta here before he even knows what he’s doing.

His terror skyrockets and he shoots out from under the couch to the startled yelps of everyone else. Everything is big, huge, compared to him, the living room seems endless.

The stairs, he just needs to get to the stairs and he'll be able to physically enter the mindscape, he’s so close-

Then there is the flap of wings, a victorious shriek, and talons are digging into his shoulders pinning him down.

“Well, what have we here?” He shoves aside his fear, proud as his voice comes out just as scathing and steady as ever.

“Get off, you overgrown lizard.” He bites out, Roman’s scaled head coming into view. He glares at Roman’s laughter.

“Anxiety, kiddo? Is that you?”

“No, its Joan, yes it’s me, Patton, now get off, Roman!” His heart is beating fast, too fast, and his words are wavering. He is afraid, afraid, afraid. He hates this, hates it, he just wants this to be over.

“Hmm. I don’t think I will. Think about it, Thomas. We have the opportunity here to get anxiety out of our way for good.” His stomach drops, his blood goes cold, he is shaking.

“Roman, what are you suggesting?” Logan, he can’t be considering this, please no, please!

“I mean, we don’t need to vanquish him. We can keep him like this. Put him in a cage, or something.”

“I'm not a pet, you idiot, and you can’t keep me like this forever.” He hisses out.

“Oh contraire, little mouse, we can keep you weak enough you don’t have any choice.” His heart lurches as he is lifted up, Roman's wings buffeting him, they are in the air.

“Roman, put me down! I… please! Pleasepleaseplease…” he is crying now, begging, because he can’t, this can’t be happening, they can’t actually intend to keep him locked in this form, weak and powerless, in a cage.

The floor seems so far away, and he feels sick, from the altitude shift or what is happening or both, he can’t tell. The anguished terror is filling him and he lets out a broken, choked sob.

This is what he gets, for thinking he could ever be accepted, for thinking he could ever be tolerated, much less liked. All he’d ever done was his job, and this is his reward.

“Logan, what-" he lets out a squeak despite himself as a blur of gray rams into Roman, sending him spiraling off balance.

Then he feels the talon’s grip slip, and he screams. He is falling, flipping through the air. From this height in this form his bones will break, shatter, with his luck his neck will snap. He has time to cry for help, before he impacts.

“Gotcha!” The halt is jarring, and he is shaking, instinctively flattening himself to make as small a target as possible as he tries to get ahold of himself. He realizes it’s soft, the ground.

He looks up and nearly screams again, instead flattening further. Patton has caught him, sitting on his back haunches, he is caught in Patton's front paws.

“p-p-put me d-down. Please.” His voice is a whisper, trembles making him stutter, but Patton instantly complies, much to his relief.

He hears a shriek and looks up, just in time to see silver talons coming right at him, then they crash into him and he feels a ripping pain in his shoulder.

He can hear Patton yelling, Logan screeching, Roman growling, and it is loud so loud and all he can think is he is about to die-

“Enough!” Thomas yells, and suddenly the ground isn’t so close, suddenly he is stumbling to his feet, lunging for his normal spot on the stairs, reaching it in two strides. He lets out a relieved sob as he clutches the bannister, looking back at the others.

Logan has landed in a heap on the couch. Patton and Roman are tangled around each other on the floor. Patton's gaze meets his, worried.

“kiddo, you’re bleeding.” He lifts his hand numbly to his shoulder, mildly surprised as it comes away sticky and red. He lets out a broken, bitter laugh.

“Gee, wonder how that happened. Not like someone was trying to kill me, or worse hold me captive and torture me for my whole existence." His voice is raw and instead of biting sarcasm, it comes out as an almost whisper, red rimmed eyes glaring at the floor as he shakes, from latent fear and pulsing anger.

“Anxiety-" he half successfully chokes back another sob, harsh laughter tearing at his lungs.

“no, know what, it’s fine. It’s fine, Thomas. I always knew I wasn’t wanted. I was an idiot to hope you might… might ever actually change, actually want me around. Hell, even care about me like I care about you and keeping you safe.” He can barely stand, he doesn’t know if it’s from the pain and blood loss or the adrenaline fading or the panic attack he can feel pressing against him, tightening his chest.

“Kiddo…” he shakes his head.

“Y'know, if you really wanted me dead, all you had to do was ask. I would’ve done it myself.” He doesn’t look up. Doesn’t see the pained shock on Patton's face, the suspicious surprise on Roman's, the horror on Logan’s. The pain on Thomas's. Instead, he flips up his hood, hugging himself as he wordlessly sinks out.

He managed to lock the door before he collapses to the floor. His chest feels like it's being squeezed by a boa constrictor, his ribs crushed and all the air shoved out of his lungs. His vision narrows to a dark pinprick, gaze unseeing as he sees Roman's talons again and again, falling and splattering against the floor, bones shattered, bars, a cage, closing in, pressing him tight, he can’t breathe, he’s choking, he’s dying, god, he’s going to die here. Why not? He laughs hysterically, that’s what they want, may as well give it to ‘em.

“virgil, no. It’s not what we all want. Come back to me, stormy. Focus on my voice. You can do it, Virgil.” Virgil. None of them know his name. Only, only…

“Dee?” he chokes out, blurry vision focusing enough to see Deceit, holding his hands in his lap, rubbing circles on his knuckles.

“There we are. Hello, dearest.” Deceit reaches up, softly wiping away his tears, brushing back his hair.

“I’m an idiot. I’m a stupid idiot.” He mutters.

“No. Virgil, you’re not. It’s ok.” He hisses in a breath of pain as Dee places a hand on his shoulder, vision going speckly at the slight contact. Dee pulls away, eyes wide, face darkening to fury.

“You’re hurt. Vee, you’re bleeding" he just shrugs, another sob clawing its way out of his throat.

“Doesn’t matter.” He whispers. Deceit hisses, and pulls him onto his lap.

“It does. Even if they don’t care, even if they don’t love you, I do. It matters to me. You will always matter to me. You’re my baby, Virg. Even if you’ve left the nest, you’re still my little rain storm. Got it?” He feels Dee's extra arms removing his hoodie, then all six are cradling him against Dee's chest, holding him tight and safe and secure, letting him relax and melt into the touch, knowing Dee will never let anything hurt him. He feels Dee press a kiss to his head.

“you’ve wiped yourself out, love. I'll take care of that nasty shoulder gash. Get some sleep, dearest.” Weakly, he clings to Dee's shirt. He doesn’t want him to let go, he doesn’t feel safe, if Dee lets go.

“I’m staying, darling. I’ll stay as long as you want.”

“remus-"

“can rain down all the hell he wants. Until you’re better, they deserve it.” He finds he can’t argue with that. He falls asleep to Dee humming softly, stroking his forehead and holding his hand, his other arms working to gently bandage his shoulder.

Deceit sighs as he hears a crash. Looking up, he sees Remus kick in the door, eyes aflame.

“who hurt him? Who’s ass do I gotta beat until it falls off?”

“hush. I just got him settled.” Dee replies. In three strides, Remus is beside him, head cocked unnaturally far to the side, like a snapped neck.

“He’s ok?” Remus asks, neck snapping back to a normal position with an audible click.

“yes. Keep an eye on him, please?”

“What? Where're you going?” Remus asks. Deceit’s eyes flash.

“I am going to go see what exactly those half-witted buffoons did to send him spiraling. Then I am going to determine whom it is I need to beat the shit out of.” Deceit growled, stepping away from the bed.

“Boo, you never let me have any fun.” Remus pouts. He instantly stops as Virgil lets out a small sound, immediately climbing into the bed with him and spooning around him. Virgil curls against him immediately, stilling as he clings onto Remus.

“Thank you.” Deceit murmurs from the doorway. Remus nods.

“I'll take care of our little stormy night. You go teach ‘em a lesson, Dee.” Remus replies, relishing the sharp fanged smile Deceit flashes him, before sinking out. As an afterthought, he snaps, replacing the door, before turning his attention to Virgil, trying to mentally send him all of his love. Virgil is more of a brother to him than Roman has ever been, and he hates seeing him hurt.

“hang in there, vee. Dee'll fix everything.”

“I highly doubt he wants to be called right now.”

“But he was so scared! We have to help!”

“I don’t know Pat, seeing us might make it worse.” He clears his throat. He meets three sets of surprised eyes with steel. Thomas yelps and falls backwards, catching himself on the wall.

“Who is that?!”

“Deceit, you scurrilous snake, what are you doing here?” his eyes narrow at that.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Roman, was I not wanted here at this exact moment?” his voice is a perfect mimicry of Virgil's, and to his satisfaction it makes Roman flinch.

“Thomas. This is Deceit. He is responsible for the lies you tell not only others, but yourself. I am puzzled as to why you have appeared now. To my knowledge, no lies have been spoken.” Logan explains, and his hands ball into fists.

“Oh, truly, why ever would I be here? It'ssss not like Anxiety returned bloody and injured, in the midsssst of a panic attack, talking about how nobody wantssss him and it doessssn't matter. I’m sure that hassss nothing to do with it, Logic.” He hisses out, spitting Logan's title like it burns his tongue.

He can see Patton's guilty face out of the corner of his eye, knows whatever happened, it wasn’t him. But Roman… yes.

“So Thomas, dear, care to explain what happened?” He asks, sickly sweet, turning his gaze to Thomas, who has a slight frown on his face. As an afterthought, he notes that Thomas isn’t afraid of him, despite his scales and sharp fangs. Interesting.

“I thought it would be cool to see what everyone’s animal forms would be. Logan was an owl, Pat was a persian cat, and Roman was a dragon. But we didn’t see anxiety anywhere so we thought he was small and hiding and maybe too scared to move. Pat was gonna find him, then a mouse shot out from under the couch and Roman…” Thomas trails off, eyes shifting away, but it’s enough to confirm his suspicions.

“Roman. Care to continue?” Roman meets his ice cold gaze imperiously.

“gladly. I captured the fiend in my claws. Hurting him was an accident. I merely meant to catch him while he was small and couldn’t hurt us and contain him. Keep him small, so he’d stop bothering Thomas. It’s not like we need him, anyways.” Roman scoffs.

Rage is filling him. Because Roman truly thinks he is in the right, truly thinks he didn’t do anything wrong, and his voice is proud as he speaks about traumatizing Virgil, who is the youngest, the smallest, the most vulnerable to start with. How dare he?

Before he can think, he has crossed the room, he rears his hand back and slaps Roman hard enough to send him reeling backwards.

“You are a heartless, soulless bastard. I told him not to come, I told him he’d get hurt but he didn’t listen. You know why? It’s certainly not because he wants to be included, he doesn’t yearn for your acceptance, it doesn’t break him a little more each time you all dismiss and send him away unwanted. He definitely doesn’t just want to be liked! He never has a hard enough time just being himself, being afraid, all the fucking time, and you have certainly helped make him feel right at home.” He hisses, ignoring the tears stinging at his eyes as he whips around, facing the rest of them.

“And you’re no better. How do you think it feels, knowing the person who conjured you doesn’t even want you? How terrified would you be, surrounded by people who have never showed you kindness, who have admitted their distaste, small and defenseless, being threatened to be put in a cage? His worst fear is something happening to Thomas and being unable to reach him, to react and help. It’s his job to protect Thomas, and you were threatening to keep him away, to put Thomas’s own safety at risk for your own stupid biases! You were threatening to make his nightmare real, and not a single fucking one of you said otherwise, did you?!” He yells, slowly looking at each of them in turn. No one will meet his eyes now, not even Roman.

“you don’t deserve him. You don’t deserve his name. No wonder he hasn’t told you. You’re a bunch of ignorant bullies. And you’d say I’m the bad guy. You all picked out the most vulnerable and pounced.” He shifts his head, turning to Thomas, a curling, empty smile on his face.

“It was a fucking pleasure, Thomas. I’ll be taking my leave.” The lie is bitter and acrid on his tongue, tasting of ash as he sinks out.

He returns to Virgil's room, immediately hurrying to his bedside, because he is crying, despite Remus's attempts to soothe him.

“Vee, what’s wrong?” he asks. Virgil glares at him through his tears.

“you said you were gonna stay!” he lets out a soft breath, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I know. I just had to check on something. But you know Remus would never let anything hurt you, right?” Virgil nods, leaning back into Remus's arms.

“That’s right, starshine. You’re safe.” Remus whispers, rocking Virgil gently, who responds by pressing his face into Remus's chest.

“You’re staying now, right?” Virgil mumbles. He smiles, slipping under the covers.

“I am. No lies this time.” He murmurs as Virgil lays down, curling into him. He reaches out with all six arms, pulling Remus closer, hugging both of them and sandwiching Virgil in warmth and safety.

“What was it?” Remus asks lowly, once Virgil is out again. He sighs.

“Shapeshifting, animal forms. He was a mouse. Roman was a dragon. Threatened to keep him locked up. It got physical.”

“You mean Roman was a bitch and attacked Virgil unprovoked.” Remus's voice is flat, and he shoots him a soft look, one of his hands slipping into Remus's.

“I’m going to kill him.” He squeezes Remus's hand.

“Later. We can work on murder plans later. Right now Vee needs us.”

“Anxiety, it’s dinner time!” Patton's voice trills. He opens his eyes with a groan, freezing instantly.

This… isn’t his room. It isn’t even the commons. He’s laying in soft bedding. He realizes he’s in a little plastic hut. His heart speeds. He looks down at himself, human, good.

He flinches as the house is lifted up, leaving him exposed. His breath catches in his lungs, Patton is looming over him, he is giant. He skitters back, realizing his back is pressing against metal wire. Cage, he is in a cage, he is tiny, in a cage.

He scrambles, trying to claw his way out, trying to bend the wire enough to wriggle out.

“hey, now. None of that kiddo.” His stomach flips as hands squeaze around his waist and he is lifted into the air. He is barely as tall as Patton's ring finger, he is so high in the air as Patton places him down on his palm.

“patton please, please, just let me go, please!” he begs, feeling tears slipping down his face.

“Aw, I know kiddo. But this is better for everyone. This way you’re still around but don’t bother Thomas.” He stumbles as Patton places him back in the cage, doubling over and choking on sobs as a small food dish is placed inside, the shadows of bars shading his face.

He is still begging, pleading, screaming, for Patton, for anyone, to let him out, let him go, but he knows no one is coming, and the bars are pressing in, and soon there won’t be any more space, any more air.

“hush, stormy, shhh. It’s ok. It’s ok, lovely.” His eyes fly open, and he clings to Dee, feeling all of his arms cradling him tight as he sniffles into his shoulder, sobs shaking his thin frame.

“Just a dream, Vee." He feels Remus's hand on his, feels the terror and residual fear draining out of him as the nightmare is removed from his mind. The pros of dark creativity. Remus can steal other people’s bad thoughts, bad dreams, but then he experiences whatever the thoughts were. He hears Remus's sharp inhale as he sees it, feels his hand tighten it’s grip.

“thanks ree.” He manages, his voice hoarse and sore.

“Virgil, love, we should talk about it. I only got minor details from them.”

“what’s to say? They were going to keep me in a cage, they d-didn't want me.” Dee draws back a tad, looking down at Virgil's face, eyes hidden behind his bangs.

“did anyone help? Surely not all of them went along with this.” He shrugs, taking a deep breath.

“R-roman g-g-rabbed me in his talons and st-started flying. But he yelled… I think L-Logan tried to stop him. He was an o-o-owl. I think he rammed Roman and made him drop me. P-p-patton c-caught me. And… and he put me down, right away, when I asked. I… I don't think they woulda let Roman k-keep me.” He mumbles out, shaking. Dee feels his heart breaking, can feel the murder on Remus's face.

“That's good, Virge. They were trying to defend you.” Virgil shakes his head.

“but they didn’t. Only p-patton even cared I was h-hurt. Thomas… Thomas didn't say a-anything.”

“but he changed you back.” His brow creases as he looks out from Dee's arms at Remus's words. “if he agrees with Roman, he wouldn’t have changed you back.”

“He's right, lovely. Thomas doesn’t hate you. I know that. That is fact.” He sighs.

“Doesn’t feel like it right now.” He mumbles.

“I know. And that’s ok, Virge.” Dee kisses his head softly. He startles at a knock on the door.

“Remus, see who it is?”

“If it’s princey stab him for me.” Virgil mumbles, making Remus chuckle and ruffle his hair.

“Gladly, stormy.”

He throws open the door, leaning in the doorway with a cocky grin, teeth sharp and eyes glinting.

“Well, well, hello there Daddy. Have I been naughty?” he teases, moving to block Patton's view of the room.

“Remus… what… what are you doing here?” Patton asks nervously.

“Apparently playing the butler. Y'know, Patton, in the movies the butler is always guilty of murder.” He tilts his head slowly, relishing the fear that races across Patton's face. “Now, what are you doing here, daddio?” Patton fiddles with his sweater sleeves, a frown settling on his face.

“I just… I know he probably doesn’t want to see us right now, heck, maybe ever, and I don’t fault him for it. Today… today was bad. Really, really bad. I just want to make sure he's ok. And apologize. We… we chewed out Roman. His actions were unacceptable. Just… I would never let that happen. He’s not… he’s a person, and I don’t always agree with him, but that doesn’t give anyone the right to take away his voice or opinion. Can you just… pass that on, for me? Please?”

Remus looks back at the bed, softening as he sees Virgil uncurling from Dee, sitting with his knees pulled to his chest, leaning against Dee, who has an arm around his shoulders. Virgil looks up at Dee, a silent question.

“No lies.” Dee murmurs, and Virgil bites his lip. “You wanna let him in?” He asks softly. Virgil hesitates, but nods.

“If he means it... yeah.” Virgil mumbles.

“He does. Remus, stop playing. V- Anxiety says he can come in.” He calls, catching himself before using Virgil’s actual name. Remus sighs, but steps aside.

“Well? Come in then.”

Hesitantly, Patton steps inside the dark room, taking in the soft, dark carpet, the dark to light purple gradient painted on the walls. There are also posters for bands carefully hung in frames, and a few posters for movies that Anxiety must like. He sees fairy lights strung across the ceiling that sparkle like stars without the main lights turned on.

He lets out a soft noise of hurt as he takes in Anxiety, knees pulled to his chest, his shoulders hunched. His eyeshadow is smeared all over his face, his eyes red and puffy. He glances at Deceit, not as surprised to see him here, tilting his head. Deceit nods minutely, and he sits down next to Anxiety, legs dangling over the edge of the bed, careful not to touch him, to give him space.

“hey kiddo. How’s your shoulder?” He asks.

“better. Dee helped. It still... still hurts.” His voice is quiet and unsure and hoarse.

“Yeah. I think it would be pretty strange if it didn’t. I’m glad you’re going to be ok, though. Even if it hurts now, it’ll feel better eventually.”

“will it?” He is surprised as Patton pulls him into a hug, startled, but after a moment he leans into it, tucking his chin against Patton’s shoulder.

“I have never wanted you to die. I have never wanted you to leave. You’re one of my kiddos, kiddo, and that means I stand up for you when something hurts you, no matter who or what it is.”

“i’m scared. I hate... I hate being small... I hate... it’s so big, everything... I could drown, in a puddle, I could be crushed by a book, I could be stepped on, I could be crushed, I could get hurt and no one would know, no one would realize or find me. I could be caged...” He chokes out, fear flooding through him again. “I could be caged and my influence squashed, and then no one would protect Thomas, look out for dangers, keep him... keep him on task, keep him motivated to d-do better. I c-can't... trapped, and b-bars and it-it's too much... too small...” He is shaking again, on the edge of hysteria, but Patton is rocking him, holding him.

“Oh honey... I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. We didn’t know you were gonna be that little. I’m sorry we didn’t ask permission first, we weren’t thinking. I promise, promise,” he pulled back so Anxiety could see his eyes, tears spilling down his own cheeks, “that I will physically fight anyone who suggests we do that again, who even dares to mention putting you in a cage. I nearly did fight Roman, Logan had to hold me back.” That gets a weak laugh out of Anxiety, imagining Logan holding back a kicking and spitting furious Patton. “I love you, kiddo. I really, really do, and if anyone has a problem with that, has a problem with you, they’ll have to go through me first.” Patton’s voice is fierce, and he doesn’t have to look at Dee to know that he isn’t lying.

“T-thomas-”

“Is worried about you, kiddo. I came to check on you cause he wanted to make sure you were gonna be ok. What you said... really, really scared us, but we didn’t wanna summon you, because we knew you probably didn’t want to be summoned. He’s sorry, too. We all are.”

“Even Roman?” He asks, bitterness in his voice. Patton hesitates, sighing.

“I don’t know. I think... I think he’s sorry he got yelled at, sorry he got in trouble, sorry we didn’t agree with him. But I don’t think he’s sorry for what he actually did to you, said to you. Which makes me angry, because he should be sorry, but he isn’t, and if he isn’t, I can’t change that. What I can do is make sure you are going to be alright. I can learn what else we shouldn’t do without asking your permission. I can be better at speaking up when Roman threatens or takes jabs at you, and eventually, hopefully, his attitude will change as he learns none of us are going to enable him anymore. I’m sorry it went this far.” He blinks, surprised. He didn’t expect Patton to acknowledge Roman’s inability to see his own wrongdoings. He didn’t expect Patton to admit to his own shortcomings. He didn’t expect Patton to be... honest.

“What would you like us to do for now, Anxiety? Clearly, you have two people who love you very much helping your right now, so I feel ok leaving, if you like. I just didn’t want you to be alone, when you were so upset. Thomas... all of us, want to speak with you about what happened, to try and make ammends, but we’ll do that on your terms, so there’s no rush. Just, whenever you’re ready to talk, we’re ready to listen. If you like, I can bring you meals, if you don’t wanna leave your room for a while. I wanna keep you healthy, and I know if I leave you to your own devices it’ll be chips and soda for every meal.” He lets out a little snort at that, because Patton is right, of course, and he’s already calmed down so much because Patton is being so nice, and he knows Dee would have told him if Patton had lied.

“that all sounds good, yeah.” He mumbles, shifting out of Patton’s hug, pulling his knees to his chest once again.

“ok. Is there anything else you need, or would like me to do?” He bites his lip, thinking.

“Just... just let them know I’m ok? If they’re really that worried about me.” Patton squeezes his non injured shoulder once as he stands, smiling gently.

“Will do, kiddo. If you ever need anything, or just want some company, don’t be afraid to call me up.”

“I... might.” Patton smiles again, soft and warm.

“I love you, Anxiety.” Patton turns away, but before he sinks out, Virgil steels his courage.

“Virgil!” He shouts, and the room seems to freeze. Remus is staring at him in wide eyed surprise. Deceit has stopped rubbing his back, and Patton falters mid step, before turning to face him, something akin to awe on his face. “That’s... my name. My name is Virgil.” A huge smile blooms across Patton’s face, his eyes light up with tender joy, and he sniffles, wiping away tears.

“Virgil. I think that’s a lovely name, Virgil. I know I'm usually a blabber mouth, but it when it counts, I can keep a secret.” Patton winks, sending a smile flashing across his own face as warmth blooms in his chest. With a wave, Patton sinks out, and he collapses back against Deceit with a long, low sigh.

“You sure about that, Virg?” Remus asks, from where he’s leaning against the wall, having simply observed everything.

“yeah. Yeah I... think I am.” He feels Dee press another soft kiss to the top of his head.

“Proud of you, lovely.” He smiles, closing his eyes as he feels Remus settle on the other side of him. He is still scared and afraid and knows the nightmares won’t leave him alone for ages, now. But he also knows that at least Patton is on his side. And Patton is almost more of a mama bear than Deceit. If the two of them are looking out for him, he knows nothing will hurt him like this ever again.

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #thomas #deceit sanders #unsympathetic roman #mostly he's a dick #pre accepting anxiety #sympathetic dark sides #minor injury #virgil angst #platonic anxceitmus #hurt/comfort #Angst with a happy ending #shape shifting

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wtf-amiru · 2 years

Text

Arannis Ilnatar

General Information

Name: Arannis Ilnatar

Name Meaning: I believe I used a dnd character name generator for this one

Other Names: I don't think he really has a lot of nicknames, there's not really a nice way to shorten his name except for maybe calling him something that's too close to Aaron.

Gender: gentle himbo

Birth Name: same

Birth Date: 16th Sun of the 4th Umbral Moon

Birth Place: Thavnair

Dominant Hand: left

Astrological Sign:

Appearance

Height: 7'1

Weight: I'm not going to be able to do any of these because he's a giant lizard man

Ethnicity: Xaela Au Ra

Birthmarks:

Hair Color: Black

Hair Length: Fabio

Hair Type: oh it's so silky and shiny and smooth

Hair Style: again, ponytail for function

Eye Color: blue, his one limbal ring went from dark blue to white because of light poisoning during shb

Eyebrows: naturally on point

Teeth(Ex. Cavities/dentures):

Face Shape(ex. Round/flat/etc): oval

Complexion (Ex. Acne, blemishes.): clear

Shirt Size: idk medium in Au Ra sizes? Dude's tall but not super ripped, he got that twunk body type, just 7 feet tall.

Pants Size: he never wears pants, excuse you

Shoe Size: yeah, I've glammed away his shoes, I don't think he wears them unless he has to

Health and Image

Diet: This baby boy's all about eating healthy, he probably grew all the vegetables himself too

Exercise: he's not out there getting ripped, but he stays fit

Fitness: ^^

Posture (lazy/proper): proper unless he's out in the wilderness, then catch him hunched over a plant or something somewhere

Abnormalities: light poisoned limbal ring

Vulnerabilities: don't you touch his babies. (his babies are literally all of the scions, especially the twins), also any child ever, he loves kids.

Handicaps: full blown idiot, has never seen a brain cell in his life

Medications: he is the medication

Allergies:

Diseases: chronic brain rot

Illnesses:

Disorders:

Imperfections: I designed him to be a beautiful idiot, c'mon

Broken Bones: yeah he's probably broken a lot of bones himself, being a healer is handy for hiding your fuck ups

Reason for Health (ex. Cigarette smoking/accidents):

Wardrobe: this boy will not wear pants unless someone died and he's told he has to, avoids shirts if he can, ~*accessories *~, which i feel like is more of a "oo a pretty thing!" than anything that's ever given any planning at all

Accessories: all of them at once preferably

Equipment:

Musical Instruments: no, but I feel like he'd be one of those frustrating people who could pick up an instrument and be proficient in it in like an hour

Piercings: nose, wears a chain to his "ear" sometimes

Hygiene: squeaky clean boy

Makeup: chapstick, Au Ra males come with built in eyeliner

Perfume / Cologne: he's around plants and flowers a lot so the scent probably lingers honestly

Scent: ^^

Scars: just ones he's collected through msq, nothing large or noteable

Tattoos: no, his scales are so pretty

Voice

Accent / Dialect: mild Thavnairin accent

Voice: probably not as deep as you're imagining

Volume: average, not too loud, not too quiet

Laughter: p loud

Impediments:

Psychology

Vocabulary: I mean he knows words, sure. He dated Urianger for a while pre Stormblood so he understands words but he just talks like a regular idiot

Memory: not great honestly, because he can get kind of stressed out sometimes bc he worries his memory can get a little muddled

Temperament: he is pretty chill honestly, even when he's mad about something

Emotional Stability: he's so transparent he's the most emotionally stable oc I have bc he just doesn't think to hide anything ever, that's not how he was raised, his only issue is with worrying too much.

Mental Health: He's prone to worrying a little too much honestly, stresses himself out a lot

Instincts: in a city? terrible, in the middle of nowhere? amazing

Philosophy

Superstitions: heavy heavy believer in fate and destiny

Morality: the goodest of boys

Etiquette: polite idiot

Alignment: neutral good

Character

Priorities: just wants to keep you alive pls stay safe and healthy

Motivation: he literally left home to help people, he just wants to help

Self Confidence: he knows what he can and can't do, he's confident in his abilities

Self Control: uncontrollable idiocy but otherwise normal and controlled

Self Esteem: he's honestly pretty good

Quirks:

Hobbies: accidental gardening, he doesn't do it intentionally but oop, there's a plant getting drowned out by weeds better just quickly pull those while i'm here.

Closet Hobbies:

Guilty Pleasures:

Habits:

Desires:

Wishes:

Traumas:

Worries: pls do not get hurt, pls stay safe and alive and remember to drink water and take your meds pls

Nervous Tics(ex. Finger tapping, fidgeting): he may bounce a knee from time to time

Soft Spots: kids, his family and community back home,

Accomplishments:

Greatest Achievement:

Failures:

Biggest Failure:

Favorite Dream:

Worst Nightmare:

Earliest Memory:

Fondest Memory:

Worst Memory:

Funniest Moment:

Happiest Moment:

Saddest Moment:

Most Prized Possession:

Most Valuable Possession: what even is money in this game

Collections: are you kidding? this bitch is bringing home pretty rocks and drying plants all day every day

Embarrassments: he is unfortunately related to Magnai (Magnai bullied him a lot until the whole "little sun" debacle, now Arannis seizes every opportunity to embarrass him about it)

Mannerisms:

Humor:

Regrets:

Secrets:

Darkest Secret:

Pet Peeves:

Phobias:

(1 lowest-10 highest)

Confidence: 8

Creativity: 9

Generosity: 12

Honesty: 10

Loyalty: 10

Insecurities: 6

Patience: 9

Predictability: 9

Reliability: 9

Respect: 9

Responsibility: 6

Trustworthiness: 10

Home, Work, and Education

House:

Hometown:

Citizenship: Thavnairian

Culture: ^^

Traditions:

Sleep Patterns: heavy sleeper, natural cuddler

Eating Habits: healthy boy

Pets: probably

Employer:

Job Title:

Social

Mother: yes

Father: yes

Guardians:

Siblings: yes, younger siblings

Children: no

Close Relatives: yes

Distant Relatives: Magnai and his family

Best Friend: G'raha, Alisaie

Close Friends: Urianger and Estinien

Confidantes: Y'shtola, Urianger, Alisaie

Friends: yes, they're all friends

Allies:

Acquaintances:

Followers:

Subordinates:

Rivals:

Enemies:

Inspirations: take your pick from any of the scions really

Role Models: I want to say probably his mom

Mentors: ^

Heroes:

Reputation:

Dominance: only when Y'shtola says he can

Sociability:

Isolation:

Romance

First Love: I don't even know, I feel like Arannis falls in love easily so it was probably early in life and someone back home

Love Interests: Y'shtola, Urianger

Marital Status: technically they're just dating

Orientation: this guy is the captain Jack Harkness of this game. Consenting and sentient adult? He's good to go, lmao.

Significant Other: Y'shtola

Love Style: he's an acts of service and quality time kinda guy, also occasionally gift giving

Flirtiness: this lovable idiot I swear

Turnons:

Turnoffs:

Fetishes:

Virginity: nah, he lost that a long time ago

#arannis #abio #apix #saving a copy to work on some of the blanks but this will do for now

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catgrump · 4 years

Note

“I’m alive?” [For Sondham Sonia/GUNDHAM?] Your writing is 💕💕💕

I’m so glad you like my writing 💛💛💛

This is an Idea for a little scenario from Cruise Ship AU! I have plans for a full-fledged Sondham fic in Cruise Ship AU so this is a taste of what’s to come I guess lol

🌻🌻🌻

Gundham stared at his reflection in the cramped bathroom, leaning on the faux-marble vanity

He sighed. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

Could this cost him his job? Potentially. He’s thought about that. He can’t remember the last time he was disciplined, so maybe this would be worth the risk.

The ship was docked at its private island. He’s never actually stepped on shore. And when she found that out, she insisted he abandon his post for the day to spend time with her.

“I was going to do so many things alone! It would much more fun with a companion!” She pleaded

And he gave in. When he first met her just a few days ago, he felt like he lost his inhibitions. She’s captivating. He looks forward to stopping by her family’s suite each day for a chance to see her. She’s kind, and curious. She’s asked about him and his life.

So he’s taking a chance.

Not like he isn’t taking a chance whenever he goes out of his way to see her. But this is something entirely different.

He left the employees’ quarters to meet her on the dock.

He stepped onto the gangway and felt the sun beat down on his pale skin, and felt like he could sweat immediately seeing Sonia sitting on a nearby bench

She’s beautiful. Her long blonde hair was gathered into braids that cascaded against her frame, adorned with a sleek swimsuit, dark shorts, and a sheer black shawl. She was glistening in the sunshine.

And then she saw him. She grinned ear to ear and stood up, gathering a bag closer to her and waving with unbridled enthusiasm

He walked down to join her. “I am so glad you are here!” She was practically bouncing with excitement, “Part of me was not expecting this.”

Gundham shrugged, smiling, “I do not take promises lightly.”

“Then come with me! I have a reservation in fifteen minutes,” she took hold of his wrist and practically dragged him down the dock toward the island

Gundham followed Sonia’s lead as he took in the sights around him. The island itself was clearly designed to be accomodating to vacationers. Before the bombastically colorful front gate, one of the first things you saw were giant water slides towering into the sky.

The sky was perfectly blue and the waters looked crystalline. The sand on the shore was almost was white as the clouds. It was almost too perfect

Sonia continued to hold on to Gundham as she trudged through tourists. They passed by souvenir stalls, rows of chaise lounges, private waterfront cabanas, snack shacks, musicians playing calypso, and tropical flora and fauna— which Gundham always took note of. There were far more lizards here than he anticipated, which was exciting.

By the time Sonia finally said “we made it,” Gundham thought she had made a mistake.

When Sonia said ‘a reservation’, he thought it was for a meal. But there was a shack in front of them, storage lockers behind them, and... water vehicles of some kind parked in the water beside them

They weren’t boats; they were much too small. Gundham had never seen a vehicle like this before. It appeared to be a scooter or motorcycle on water

Sonia finished talking with the attendant in the shack and approached Gundham, jingling a small key on a ring. “Anything you do not want getting wet goes in a locker,” she chirped

Oh. So she did have a reservation to... ride. He didn’t take her as someone who’d want to do those sorts of things.

Gundham did his best not to stare as she removed her shawl, revealing more of her figure. He swallowed, but then quickly averted his eyes when he saw her start to take off the shorts she had on. He could feel himself growing more and more flustered as his imagination ran wild

He bit his lower lip as he looked at his feet idly kicking the sand

He had to snap himself back when he felt a finger tap his shoulder. Sonia was standing in front of him expectantly. “If you have a phone on you, I suggest leaving that in my bag in the locker,” She giggled

“Right,” he nodded and followed her advice, taking his phone out of the pocket of his swim shorts and placing it in her tote bag once he was at their locker.

She has not said anything, Gundham paused, standing still in front of the locker, contemplating an insecurity of his, I do not think she will make any remarks...

He took a deep breath and decided to remove the shirt he had on. Sonia had only previously seen him in uniform— a uniform where he was able to cover his scars. They adorned both of his arms, and he had some across his chest. When on the clock, he went out of his way to appear more friendly and approachable than he desired to be. Even with his brooding presence, Sonia had led him this far. The last thing he wants is for her to be scared of him.

Gundham did his best to control his breathing while he folded the shirt. We ARE on a beach, he told himself, This is perfectly acceptable.

He took one last deep breath before turning around to face her. A weight fell off his shoulders when she smiled and clasped her hands together with glee.

“Come on,” she instructed, “We have to listen to the safety information!”

They sat among strangers and listened to an instructor guide them through driving the vehicles, which Gundham learned were called ‘wave runners’.

His leg bounced with anxiety as he tried to focus his nervous energy on gripping his own knuckles

When the presentation was over, they put on life vests and went to the docks.

“Is it alright if I drive?” She asked with pleading eyes. But they were entirely unnecessary.

“Y-yes, that is fine,” Gundham did his best to hide his fear. This is not the type of activity he would do to seek a rush of adrenaline.

Sonia climbed on, taking hold of the steering handles with zeal. Gundham waited for her to settle in before cautiously sitting behind her, and searched for some sort of handle on the side of the vehicle to grab.

There was no such handle.

Well, he had to hold on somehow. He very carefully wrapped his arms around her waist, doing his best to maintain a respectful distance between them. She’s beautiful and she did invite him out, but he can’t make any assumptions.

On the insteuctor’s cue, the fleet of wave runners started off. Sonia turned over her shoulder and asked “Are you ready?”

Gundham nodded yes with a tight, forced smile.

He felt like he was flying. And not in a graceful, peaceful way. It was as if he were a crash-test-dummy in a race car, headed toward his inevitable demise. Sonia’s profile over her shoulder was the last thing he saw. Removing one of his senses just amplified the others. He couldn’t look at anything, but he could hear the motors speeding through the waves, he could smell the salt of the sea as it hit his face, he could taste his mouth getting drier, and he could feel how he had suddenly grasped on to Sonia with all of his might. There was no distance between them anymore. His brain was telling him that if he let go, he would fall off, and who knows what would happen after that?

He was squeezing his own arms for stabilization, and listening to Sonia laugh, trying to center himself. This went on for what felt like eons.

Until they suddenly stopped. “Gundham?” He heard her say his name and opened his eyes. He picked his head up to see her looking down at him with wisps of hair in her face and a concerned smile

“I’m alive?” Were the first words out of his mouth

She laughed, and covered her mouth with one of her hands. “Yes, we made it back! Our time is up.”

“Oh,” Gundham suddenly felt incredibly embarrassed, “That was not... so bad.”

“Gundham, you have not let go of me.”

She was smiling, but Gundham instinctively released his grip. Was his face heating up from the sun, or because of her?

“I think I owe you a stiff drink after that,” she continued, swinging a leg over the side of the waverunner, “Come on; my treat.”

She stepped off the vehicle and offered Gundham a hand. With his heart in his throat, he accepted it.

Prompt from This List: feel free to send in a request!

If you like my work, please consider tipping me on Ko-Fi if you can 💛 Fics will always be free; tipping is optional 💛

#danganronpa #super danganronpa 2 #danganronpa fanfiction #danganronpa fic #sonia nevermind #sonia x gundham #sdr2 sonia #danganronpa sondham #sondham #gundham tanaka #sdr2 gundham #danganronpa gundham #cruise ship au #danganronpa au

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colossalsummer · 4 years

Text

KOTLC book one READ ALONG part 1 of 5

I read the first Keeper of the Lost Cities book and annotated every page. Here are the highlights. (Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5)

Chapter 1

He didn’t seem to realize that unless the giant dinosaur replicas came to life and started eating people, no one cared. Me, the resident paleontology nut: Shut up Sophie I care

Fitz: "Tell me something. Do you really think that’s what they look like? It’s a little absurd, isn’t it?" Please make a good dinosaur reconstruction I’m begging you

Chapter 2

Fitz’s body broke her fall as she landed across his chest. Sophie: And that’s how I met your father

Chapter 3

What was he going to do, whisk her away to some magic elf land?

Fitz: “All of the Lost Cities are real–but not how you picture them, I’m sure.” OOOOHHH that’s the name of… the book… I see now

Humans broke the law all the time. We’re wild rowdy boys we’ll mess u up

Fitz: “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. Who came up with that?” Sophie: “Uh, Albert Einstein.” Fitz: “Huh. Never heard of him. But he was wrong.”

Fitz: “The slowest elf can still trump a human—even one with no proper education.” Kinda racist of you but go off I guess

Chapter 4

Sophie: “Then why are we hiding?” Fitz: “We’re dressed like humans. Humans are forbidden in the lost cities—especially here, in Lumenaria…” You’re on some kind of government mission, don’t you have a hall pass

Sophie opened her mouth to defend her race, but she could see Fitz’s point. War, crime, famine—humans had a lot of problems. OH like elves don’t have problems

Sophie: “But… I’ve been hearing thoughts since I was five.” “Five?” Lol knock him down a peg

Fitz: “You heard me?” Sophie: “Was I not supposed to?” Fitz: “No one else can.” OH HO HO

Sophie: “How will I find you?” Fitz: “Don’t worry, I’ll find you.” Not creepy

Chapter 5

She tugged out an eyelash. Not healthy

Okay. If she’s an elf is she not like… ‘Well my parents must be part elf at least.’ Like why would you not immediately be like ‘Um are we elves?’

You could be normal, like your sister. OOF DIRECT HIT

No one understood how she and Sophie could be sisters—especially Sophie. Even their parents wondered about it in their thoughts.

The silverware slipped through Sophie’s fingers. Whoop there it is

And if they weren’t her family… who was? How are her parents confused about this

Sophie: “Was I adopted?” Thank you

Her mom laughed as her mind flashed back to the twelve hours of very painful labor she’d endured. Okaaay

Did they get magically parasitized? Like a cuckoo bird?

Chapter 6

Is Forkle a magical protector? Somebody around here is.

Suspicious Stranger, Definitely Not An Elf: “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to carry her back to my sister’s house. It’s just a few blocks away, and she seems to like you better than she likes me.” RED FLAG RED FLAG

Sure hope Forkle isn’t gonna die…

Sophie: “How am I supposed to trust you when you won’t even tell me anything?” Yeah thanks, this

She gestured to the tree, but there was no one around. No thoughts nearby, either. - Did she imagine it? You saw a boy disappear once, just go with your gut baby

*Fitz ganks Sophie from school to whisk her to elf land* Can’t you wait until lunch or a free period and make up an excuse like an orthodontist appointment or something

Chapter 7

Alden: “I see Fitz wasn’t kidding about the brown eyes. Most unusual.” You as racist as your son? Let’s find out

“Humans,” Alden muttered. I see

Alden: “Kidnapping is a human crime. I’ve never heard of an elf even considering such a thing, much less trying it. What made you think it was one of us?” Of course not we’re perfect whomp whomp

Alden: “We would never have servants. The gnomes choose to live with us because it’s safer in our world. And they help in our gardens because they enjoy it. We’re privileged to have them.” Don’t come at me with that self righteousness, it was a legitimate question all things considered

…everything she’d seen in the elvin world spoke of wealth. Girl you know there’s an underbelly

As Sophie met his cold gaze, she could see what Alden meant about Bronte being hard to impress.

Sophie: “Sorry, I was surprised by your ears.” LOL this must be rude as heck, like, ‘you’re so wrinkly.’

Fitz: “You eat animals?” That must be horrifying to him

“So, Sophie.” Bronte sneered her name like it bothered him to say it. “Alden tells me you’re a Telepath.” NYEHHH MISTER POTTER

Chapter 8

Bronte’s mind felt different than Fitz’s—somehow deeper. LOLLL NO THOUGHTS HEAD EMPTY

She screamed as the goblets shattered against the table and the chairs crashed to the floor, knocking Bronte flat on his back with a thunderous collision. TOUCHDOWN

“Our language is instinctive,” Alden said. “We speak from birth…” TALKING BABIES >:O

Alden: “…though to humans our language sounds like babbling.” So they’re all googoo gaga around this fancy table R/N

Sophie: “What’s a probe?” Fitz: “Just a different way to read your mind. It’s no big deal.” Just a thermometer that goes in your butt. No big deal.

Alden: “How would you like to see Atlantis?” I WOULD LIKE THAT VERY MUCH

Chapter 9

*reading the description of Atlantis* WHERE ARE THE CRAP CITIES. I KNOW YOU HAVE THEM.

She took a slow, deep breath, closed her eyes, and stepped off the edge, screaming the whole way down. Goodbye dignity miss you

…she launched out of the vortex onto an enormous sponge. It felt like being licked from head to toe by a pack of kittens… WHOA! Is this the flagella, or the spicules? I love that

A child strolled past with some kind of chicken-lizard hybrid on a leash. PLEASE BE A DINOSAUR PLEASE

“An eurypterid,” Alden explained, “A sea scorpion.” EEEEOOOEEE I LOVE IT

Chapter 10

Sophie: “I have a file?” *cough cough* surveillance state much

“Reading should be instinctive,” Alden admitted, “but maybe your human education affected you somehow…” School is brain poison, says the flat-earther’s dad

It would be so awful to be an advanced student and suddenly know nothing.

They turned down a narrow, quiet canal lined with purple trees with thick, broad leaves like kelp. Could it be prototaxite or am I dreaming?

Alden took a small, green cube from his pocket. Credit cards are better ‘cause they don’t hurt when you sit on em. Who’s the master race now?

Despite Fitz’s earlier assurances, she couldn’t help wondering if the probe would hurt. Or worse—what humiliating memories Quinlin would find. “Sure are a lot of boy bands in here…”

…Quinlin’s gaze settled on Sophie. “Brown eyes?” WOW not even gonna say hi first huh

“You lick it,” Fitz explained. “They need your DNA.” OH SO DNA ISN’T FAKE HUH FITZ

He licked a silver strip on the wall… LOL I’m CRYING there are other ways to get DNA you GUYS

Quinlin: “Was he…?” Alden: “An elf?”… “I doubt it.” Qinlin: “How can you be sure?” Why, my biases tell me so, my good man.

Alden: “Humans do so love their chemicals.” Says Mr. Big Brain over here lickin’ doorknobs

Alden, cont’d: “If they’re not lighting something on fire, they’re spilling oil into the ocean or blowing something up.” Okay that’s fair

If you want to see my notes for a specific page, send me a message and I’ll take a picture.

Stay tuned for Part 2.

#kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #read along #part one #kotlc funny #kotlc memes #kotlc sophie #kotlc fitz #kotlc book 1 #keeper 1 #shannon messenger #kotlc read along with me

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