#he’s just a little hungry and needs meat to survive

[kii0mi]

Zombie Au

Original post

TRIGGER WARNING! There’s some blood on the drawing, very little and no injuries, but thought I’d put a warning anyways

I’ve been playing around with a half zombie!Danny, didn’t think I’d love this idea so much but it’s really fun! This is the design I’ve thought of for Danny, and I plan on at least making a reference page for the designs of the human!ancients. Clockwork, pandora and frostbite and guaranteed to have a new design planned for them, I might also do others like ember, and kitty, Johnny and shadow :)

My plans for them so far are: clockwork as a cryptic man who used to work in a clock shop, pandora as a Greek woman who is a martial artist expert, frostbite and his tribe as a group of scientists who were around the earlier tests of the virus but maybe left for ethical concerns (might change), ember as a punk artist traveling around and sharing her music, and kitty and Johnny as a motorcyclist couple who adopted a docile zombie dog. I’d like to continue world building on this, hopefully my energy allows it :)

Original idea by @phanboyo

[gremlingottoosilly]

Monster!Konig with a little cute kitty! She just wants to make him happy but she's to dumb to realize what he needs!!

Awwwww! Konig would definitely humiliate the shit out of his pretty little kitty mate. You're a monster, but you're even weaker than an average human! So adorable and pathetic, Konig just can't wait to claim you as his. Your body is a good enough temperature for his eggs, and your womb could carry so much of his litter...maybe even produce some weird octopus kittens that can be used as universal soldiers! You need to consume flesh as a monster, so Konig would only feed you the tiniest chunks of meat, making you plead and beg each time you're hungry and can barely move from how weak you are...he'd allow you to chew on his tentacles, your sharp teeth are so cute when you think you can really do damage with them...he loves to be covered in your bite marks, it's the testament of how much you adore him - even if you shake and cry every time he touches you a bit too roughly. You're always so dumb and disoriented he has to put you in a tight collar with little chumming bells because it's the only way for you to not get lost! Everyone can hear the little dingle and know that Konig mate is somewhere around here - it's especially useful when dumb ol' you got into a tight space or a really narrow closet because you went into heat and needed a confined space. He would put you in the finest fabrics for your nest, lots of toys and ways for you to play - as long as you're not really trying to escape the fate of being his dumb kitty incubator. You're too weak to survive without him anyway.

[auspicioustidings]

Firewatch 11

Summary: You just want to sleep, but Price needs you to calm down first.

Words: 2.8k

CW: Kidnapping, light bdsm

When Johnny tried to touch you, you only buried yourself into Simon and glowered at him. He looked wounded, pulling his hand back from where it had been poised to stroke your hair. None of them understood why you were reacting like that. You seemed back to yourself, but then it would stand to reason that you would be most scared of Simon. And yet now you were only too happy to be held by him. Only him.

As far as you were concerned it was a survival tactic. If you were always by Simon, none of them could kill you without going through him. And you weren’t really sure anyone could go through him. He seemed happy enough to play protector, thumb rubbing firm circles into your waist and teeth nibbling at the tip of your ear every so often. You suspected he was probably looking at the others when he did it, gloating. Good. 

“You need to eat sweetheart” he purred into your ear.

“Mm, don’t tell me what to do Simon.”

“Bratty even when you’re half dead.”

“Bossy even when I’m being nice.”

He chuckled at that. If he were a better man perhaps he would feel bad that Price, Johnny and Gaz were at the kitchen island looking like grumpy little puppies. As he was not a better man he only shot them a lopsided grin. Why shouldn’t he be happy? You were safe, your temperature was back to normal, you were in his arms and letting his fingers sink into the fat of your waist, letting his teeth lazily graze the skin of your ear. The fear of losing you gave way to how you fit so fucking perfectly against him. He couldn’t help but imagine how else you might fit together, how perfectly warm and wet and tight you’d be around him. Fuck would you let him take you to his bed? He didn't even need to make love to you just yet if you were still stubborn about everything, just hold you, feel your heartbeat and the warmth of your skin proving you were alive. 

“Like you nice, should give it to me more often” he said with his hand testing the waters, squeezing the meat of your thigh dangerously close to your ass. 

“Don't get used to it, can't imagine it'll be a frequent occurrence.”

You felt the squeeze and your body gave a valiant attempt at arousal, but it was like molasses, sticky and slow moving in your exhaustion. You didn't mind it, if anything it was sort of nice. His chuckle betrayed his own exhaustion a little, the raspiness of it pointing to him having had a very stressful day. 

“Then let me enjoy it while it lasts hm? Eat something for me sweetheart.”

Stupid man being stupidly charming. You didn't really feel like eating, you had went past hungry at some point in the cold and now you just wanted to stay cuddled up to someone you were steadfastly believing was safe and go to sleep. He kept jostling you though, a nip to your ear, a squeeze of your thigh or a finger tracing your spine keeping you awake from how it caused little thrills through you. 

“You make it.”

“Hm?”

“I'm not eating whatever they made. You make it. Or give me something that's sealed.”

Well that was an alarming thing to hear you mumble softly against him. The smug happiness of having you favour him was rapidly turning into concern. What exactly did you think they were going to do to you? Did you think they would poison you or were you just refusing to eat anything from them out of pettiness?

“Why?”

“I'll make it myself then” you grumbled, pushing away from him even though every fibre of you hated it.

Oh he did not like that if the growl was anything to go by. Simon stood with little warning, an arm banding under your ass to keep you wrapped around him. You tensed, knowing he was going over to the others and not being sure you really wanted to be near them. Price maybe, he had been kind, he was asleep when Johnny and Kyle had been discussing your murder. Second murder you supposed. But you couldn't really be sure he wasn't in on it. Then again you couldn't be sure Simon wasn't, but you didn't have much choice but to believe him. 

You were placed lightly on the kitchen island and he took a small step back, forcing you out into the open. You had felt a lot less vulnerable wrapped up in him, face buried in his shoulder. Your skin prickled with the gazes you felt on you. 

“I was only gone a few days, what exactly happened in that time that's got you not willing to eat anything they've made?”

“What? That true little bird? You are not starving yourself, you're already in enough trouble for running off like that” Price said, trying to temper himself.

He was off balance with this whole situation. You had seemed on the edge of giving in before he went to sleep (which he now felt incredibly guilty about) and then he wakes up to you gone? And now after letting them rescue you, Simon shows up and you are suddenly only willing to speak to him. You hadn't been refusing to eat before. You had been a brat about it sure, but you hadn't refused. 

You looked at Price, not sure how to untangle your feelings towards him. He could not be in on it, surely not. If he had wanted to kill you he could have smothered you while you were in his bed. Johnny spoke and while you didn't mean to, you flinched. Everybody certainly noticed.

“We dinnae ken what's happening in that bonnie– I… baby what's wrong?”

“Back off Johnny.”

“I didnae dae anything!”

While you were glad Simon was telling him off you wished he'd just let you cling to him again. This wasn't a conversation you wanted to have right now, you just wanted to sleep for 16 hours in a warm bed. You'd probably take a warm body in it if it wasn't someone who had openly spoken about killing you. 

“Everything seemed fine the other night luv, you were getting along.”

You did glance at Kyle, seeing him look alarmed at how you froze up when he spoke the same way you had for Johnny. He was right, you were getting along. It had been almost peaceful, you had been almost calm. Maybe that had been what they had been waiting for. 

“Simon.”

You said his name as a soft plead, hoping you could get out of this conversation. You didn't want to say it out loud. You didn't want to make it real. Because goddamnit you kind of liked them. You liked teasing Johnny when Dosia was horrible to him, you liked watching Kyle cook. It was so stupid of you to fall for it, to find yourself liking them. Please let Price be outside of it, please let him want you alive. Heartbreak twice over was already enough. 

There was a stunned sort of silence at your little plea. It wasn't really like you at all, not the you they had been getting to know. These men knew one another well enough that they could each tell that nobody knew what was going on here. This wasn’t you being angry or scared that they were keeping you here. This was something else, and none of them knew why. Price moved into your eye line and you lowered your gaze stubbornly to the ground, but you didn’t seem the same level of upset as you were with Soap or Gaz. 

His brow furrowed and he crooked a finger under your chin, making you tilt your head up and look at him. He could feel how agitated Simon had gotten at you saying his name like that, but he also knew that he trusted him with you. He trusted he would make this right. So he stayed where he was, leaning against the kitchen counter and crossing his arms to ensure he wouldn’t reach out while Price tried to fix whatever had went so horribly wrong.

“What’s going on?”

“Failed escape attempt, obviously.”

“Try again little bird.”

Oh, he was using that voice again. That one that oozed authority and made you want to push and push and push until he snapped. Only now you didn’t know what that meant. Part of you hoped he would just backhand you, show you his true colours so you could get over whatever this ridiculous feeling was. Another part badly wanted him to take some sort of control, force your racing thoughts to calm. Fuck you were demented.

“You wanted me to stay put, you should have clipped my wings.”

“That what you want?”

Maybe. Maybe you just wanted them to stop fucking toying with you. You were exhausted, fear and misery had drained you and you just wanted to give in, but your already incredibly wounded pride would really rather he made you give in so you could pretend you had fought it.

“Does it matter what I want John?”

He considered you for a while, the world holding its breath in anticipation. You didn’t realise how tense you really were until he moved his hand to the nape of your neck, tugging you off of the counter, fingers and thumb gripping with enough pressure that it loosened you all at once. The others didn’t intervene as he marched you out of the kitchen and into his office, the click of the lock causing a full body shiver. He was behind you and you just let your eyes softly unfocus on the wall as he bent slightly to speak right into your ear.

“I didn’t want to do this right now. You need rest. But you’re too wound up for that aren’t you little bird? Won’t even eat if we can’t get you calmed down.”

His foot slid between yours, pushing gently to get your legs to widen as he pressed on your neck, bending you over the desk. You didn’t have resistance left to give as you settled on your elbows. His hand running down your spine made you sigh. 

“This… it doesn’t change anything” you said softly as tugged on your sweatpants, getting access to the bare swell of your ass.

“Course not. Bet’s still on, and I still intend to win.”

–

Gaz couldn’t sleep. He was half tempted to do what Soap had done and sneak into Ghost’s bed for some form of bloody comfort. He hadn’t seen you since Price had taken you into that office, although they all knew exactly what would have happened in there. He knew you were due punishment for running away like that, but it unsettled him that it had happened so soon. You weren’t right yet, you were still… well he didn’t know. That was the problem. Shock he could understand, but he thought they had warmed you up and got you lucid again. And then you had looked at him like you were scared of him. You had never looked at him like that before, not even when you had been spitting mad and screaming at Soap. 

He trusted Price, he knew that he’d figure out what was wrong, knew that he’d take care of you in whatever way you needed it. But it didn’t help him sleep. He wanted to take care of you. He wanted you to cosy into him like you had done with Ghost. It drove him wild watching how his fingers had sunk into you, how you had let them. Fuck it was so stupid, Kyle’s fingers had been inside you but he was getting jealous of the intimacy of another mans fingers even touching you.

He was driving himself a little crazy going over your last interaction with him, trying to figure out what he had done wrong. You had been fine, you had even laughed when he had made a cutesy little smiley face on your omelette with ketchup. He wasn’t about to pretend that you were happy being kept by them like this, but he was so sure you had been beginning to settle. Him and Soap were going to wait until Simon was back and then make their case to him and Price that they should talk to you about giving you some freedom. They couldn’t let you just run to the police, but what if they built you your own place? Just like your little cottage. They thought they could make you happy with that for the time being, work on it until maybe you’d like to move somewhere far away with them. Then they could take you out on dates without incriminating themselves. They just needed to convince you that you wanted to go on them. And somehow he had fucked it all up. 

The light knock on his door had him out of the bed in record time to answer. He knew how a knock sounded for people, and that was too light to be Ghost or Price (Soap never knocked, fucking git that he was). He should have tried to be more cool and collected but he wrenched open the door and just flustered for a moment at you standing there in pjs. Fuck you were pretty. You looked tired still, but calm, he suspected Price had probably given you what you needed. 

“I… um. Can I come in?”

He nodded rapidly and stood aside to let you wander into his room. You seemed maybe a little nervous, but at least not scared of him. He hated that you had been scared of him. He hated not being able to figure out why.

“Are you-”

“I wanted-”

You both paused and there was a moment of each of you trying to get the other to go first until Kyle sighed and very gently moved you to sit on his bed so he could crouch in front of you, taking both your hands in his.

“Are you ok luv?”

“Tired. John gave me the soup you made, it was nice.”

He had fed you after he had rewired your brain with the absolute leathering he had given your ass. You were pretty sure you had cried during, but it was all a little hazy. It was a stupid thing to do, but you found you trusted him. Hard not to when he had climbed into the bath with you, washed your hair and gently dried and moisturised you after without once trying to take advantage.

You had nearly choked spying on him when you were supposed to be undressing for the bath, watching through the crack in the bathroom door to his room as he leaned his forearm heavily against the wall and quickly jacked himself off. Fuck, you knew he had done it because he wanted to make sure he wouldn’t be getting hard with you naked in his arms and you had to throw cold water on your face to try and pretend you weren’t flushed with the thought that he wanted you that badly but wouldn’t do anything to you even in your vulnerable state. Made it hard not to trust him really. You had been suddenly glad for how utterly exhausted you were because while your body had made an attempt at getting you aroused it had been overpowered by bone tiredness.

Instead you had let him take care of you and pull you into his arms in bed. And you had finally talked. You told him what you had overheard and he told you that without a shadow of a doubt you had misunderstood. He’d even offered to knock their heads together for even accidentally frightening you like that. And you were so thoroughly out of emotions, so run through with the events of the day, that you couldn’t find it in you to not just believe him. He hadn't stopped you when you had mumbled that you wanted to see Kyle, he had just pressed his lips to your hair and let you go. 

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

“I thought you and Johnny were going to kill me. I overheard you in the kitchen,” you answered, no energy for anything but blunt honesty.

Kyle took a moment to figure out what the fuck you were talking about and then groaned and hid his head in your joined hands. 

“Fuck. Oh fuck. I should have thought about how that would sound with you right in the next room, I’m sorry, it wasn’t anything like what you’re thinking, it- well we-”

You squeezed his hands to get him to look at you again.

“S’ok. I’d just like to sleep if that’s ok.”

He wasn’t going to argue with you when you were sat in his bed, when you wanted to share it. So he just smiled and let you crawl under the covers so he could slot in right behind you. 

He fit there. 

[general-cyno]

I watched film gold the other day and it's been making me think about luffy's relationship with food wrt zoro and how it's been presented in different OP media.

Aside from the importance the riceball incident holds for the animanga and OPLA, luffy's specific reaction to zoro's injuries after the mihawk duel in the latter is so good. although the LA won't touch luffy's full backstory for a while, it's obvious he loves food in both the usual goofy manner and as something he associates with kindness or a lack thereof. it's why zoro eating the riceballs and sanji feeding gin is important in both iterations of the story. and not only that, OPLA also directly links luffy's appetite to his mood/feelings - when kid!luffy gets sad about shanks's upcoming no-return departure, makino goes out of her way to point out something's really wrong after luffy says he's not hungry. as it is, OPLA used this character trait of luffy's again to highlight how affected he is by seeing zoro (who, at that point, luffy hadn't considered could lose) truly hurt for the first time.

From I'm not really hungry right now, Nami amidst his rising panic, refusing sanji's food, admitting he'd eat his arms and legs to save zoro's life (in the context of what happened to zeff and sanji) and my gut hasn't been so great lately, the message is clear: luffy is not only worried about zoro's wellbeing, he's also very, very upset and willing to go crazy lengths if it means saving zoro. plus, if you watch the LA knowing about sabo and ace, imo it emphasizes further why seeing zoro in such a state makes luffy feel/act the way he does and how much he cares for zoro to react like that to begin with. I love it. I also love that though he rejects the food for himself, luffy admits while rambling that he wants zoro to eat and asks sanji to prepare food he believes zoro would like, even if he quickly concludes letting him rest is probably the best option instead.

That last part brings me to thriller bark, in the manga. It's not food per se and it's portrayed less seriously, but he still tries to have zoro - unconscious and wounded after You Know What - drink an entire barrel of booze because luffy knows how much he loves it (as much as luffy loves meat) and believes it will make zoro wake up/feel better. comedic as it may be intended to be, it's also kinda sweet. luffy's shown more than a few times to recuperate ridiculously fast and in an equally ridiculous manner from injuries by eating meat, so this is luffy's own way to show how much he cares and that he wants zoro to be well again imo.

This also brings me to the start of thriller bark itself! luffy's offered to share his food before (with nami, for example), yet ig what stood out to me during this part is how he just... offers to share his lunch with zoro simply because luffy wants him to come along. luffy rarely makes that sort of offer for specifically mundane reasons, so. squints.

(the fact that zoro fell right for it is so. lmao.)

And as for film gold - albeit not canon as most of the OP movies are, it's still interesting. for once, it's zoro who ends up in need of rescue. after the whole ordeal with tesoro capturing zoro and pushing the straw hats to try and buy his freedom before the public execution, luffy seeks out food.

And when usopp remarks zoro is more important than that? luffy immediately agrees, but insists that's precisely why he needs to eat.

This is a fun contrast to OPLA luffy though I'd say not necessarily a contradicting one. whereas there's little OPLA luffy can do wrt zoro's injuries, film gold luffy can't afford not to eat because here he needs to be at peak strength to rescue him. I like that the movie showed luffy's frustration too,

and how far he'd go to save him: jumping into a duct that's filled with "vicious golden bats" no one's survived from and launching himself straight against a moving, giant sea prism stone ventilation fan (all related to rescue plan) that franky has to bodily drag him away from before he gets more seriously wounded.

(Quite a reminder luffy's pretty crazy about zoro too!)

All in all, food is a very important aspect of luffy's character whether it's for a comedic or serious effect. though it's made more relevant in the WCI arc, I still love how it's something you can see portrayed in his relationship with zoro throughout OP too, be it in the animanga, the LA or in movies as well.

[writeforfandoms]

Island 3

Find the series masterlist

You do your level best to make sure these four can survive the Island, if anything were to happen to you. Things don't always work out as planned.

Warnings: Violence, dinos, most everything is trying to kill people, dinos are hungry and people look tasty I guess, swearing, injury.

Word count: 2.1k

The next days passed quietly. No drops in sight. No attacks. 

Just teaching. 

You took the group of them out to gather berries and plant fibers. You showed them how to weave baskets to the best of your ability - you were far from an expert, after all. 

You took them hunting again, a skill they already had mastered. But you made sure they all practiced getting cuts of meat. 

You made them all help you with cooking, too. Cooking was an essential skill, one they would need. 

Just in case. 

You weren't surprised when Price brought up taming again. 

“Taming.” He stood in front of you, arms crossed, head tipped to look down at you. 

You huffed in soft amusement. “It is week two,” you agreed. “Alright. I assume you want the hands on version.” 

That got you interested looks, Soap and Gaz lifting their heads and looking at you with blatant curiosity. 

“Right, okay.” You couldn't help but smile, amused. “Grab your weapons, I'll get Bessie.” 

It didn't take long before the group of you were headed down towards the beach. The hyaenadon had insisted on coming, and trotted happily between you and Gaz. 

“Think we could find another one like her?” Gaz motioned down at the hyaenadon. 

You shrugged. “They're around, though not so far down as the beach,” you mused. “But they're hard to start taming, you have to sneak up on them.” 

“Probably don't have ghillie laying about,” Gaz guessed with a little grin. 

“Funny you should mention that, actually.” Your lips twisted in a complicated mix of emotions. 

“What, really?” Gaz turned wide eyes on you. 

You shrugged, fingers twitching restlessly at your sides. “I have a set that more or less fits me, and two more sets. Plus some bits and pieces. It's one of the things that can be found in the drops.” 

Gaz nodded slowly. “I'd like to see that, and what else you have,” he said. “Later.” 

“Later,” you agreed, pausing at the tree line just at the edge of the shore. “Right. Who's volunteering to try this?” 

There was a moment of silence as the men all looked at you, clearly unwilling to volunteer to be the first. Until Price huffed and stepped forward. 

You nodded. “Right, good. Pick a dino. Anything you can see around here will be an easy tame.” 

Price turned a slow circle, taking in the beach, the various creatures walking around, and the sight of his men all huddled together like school children. He huffed. “What are the advantages to each?” 

You couldn't help your little smile at that. “Don't bother with dodos, they're not good for much but food. Trikes are good defenders and they can carry a lot of weight. Parasaurs can carry a fair bit too, and they're good watch towers.” You shaded your eyes to look around again, to see what else was around. “Let's see… that looks like an iguanodon, never had one before. If we can find one, gallimimus are pretty fast runners.” You shrugged, looking back to Price. 

His brow furrowed as he looked out at the iguanodon. This one was mostly green, with darker green stripes along its back and a lighter belly. Not a bad choice for a first tame. 

“That one, then.” Price looked back to you, shoulders straight and even. 

“Right.” You stood straight and looked at the other three. “I'm leaving you lot here with Bessie and the hyaenadon. Too much activity will spook the iguanodon. So I expect you lot to stay here and keep your eyes open. Yes?”

“Yes ma'am,” Gaz agreed easily, while Soap murmured an “Aye”. Ghost said nothing, but his chin dipped towards you, just enough acknowledgement that you took it as agreement. 

You grabbed the bag of berries from Bessie's saddle and handed it to Price, whistling for the two tames to stay put. The hyaenadon whined but sat next to Gaz. 

The walk towards the iguanodon was quiet, Price keeping pace with you. He stopped when you did, crouching next to you in the long grass. 

“Here, take these.” You handed him a bag of berries. “Start rolling berries towards it. You want to entice it closer until you can hand feed it.” 

Price gave you a bit of a side-eyed look but did as you instructed. The iguanodon slowly lumbered towards the two of you, eating berries along the way. You smiled, just a little.  So far, so good. 

The iguanodon stretched out its neck slowly, cautiously, until it could take a berry from Price’s hand. It was a little less shy the next time, until it didn't hesitate at all taking the berries from him. 

The look on his face was priceless, a bit shocked and a bit awed. 

The iguanodon lifted its head and lumbered away, not fast like it had been alarmed. Just like it was done eating. 

“Good,” you murmured, watching it go. “How do you feel?” 

He wiped his hand off on the grass, shrugging after a moment. “That was… interesting.” 

You laughed quietly. “Yeah, I remember. Okay. Think about it. How many more times do you think you need to feed the iguanodon?”

“Once.” He blinked after he spoke, like he hadn't quite meant to say that. 

You nodded knowingly. “See what I meant?”

He huffed, but his lips twitched in amusement. “I do see,” he agreed. “So, what now?” 

“Now we head back. Or, I suppose we could do a bit of hunting while we're out.” You stood up and stretched, working out some of the ache that had settled in your muscles while you waited. 

He stood with a little grunt, nodding for you to lead the way. 

“So? How'd it go?” Soap asked as soon as you two were close enough, clearly intensely curious. 

Leaving that one to Price, you simply rolled your eyes and tucked the bag of berries away again for now. Right. How best to divide the group of you…

“Gaz, you and I are going to gather berries. You three can hunt.” 

Gaz didn't even protest, just nodded once to you. 

By now, you trusted those three enough to not get themselves hurt while hunting, so you just whistled to the two tames and started looking for berry bushes. Gaz kept pace with you easily, glancing over at you every so often. 

“Think I could tame a hyaenadon?”

You snorted. “Sure,” you agreed with an easy shrug. “If you really want to, we'll figure it out.”

He grinned. “I'd like that.” 

You chuckled. “She is sweet,” you agreed, looking down at her. “We'll see if we can find you one to tame in a decent area.” 

“Thanks.” Gaz grabbed an empty bag and started picking berries. You stopped at the next bush down, focusing on not getting pricked. A soft curse from Gaz made you chuckle. 

“Thorns?” You asked, deceptively mild. 

“It was hiding,” he grouched, making you smile. 

Companionable silence fell between you as you focused on picking berries, moving around each other easily. 

“Think you'll make more of those biscuits?” Gaz couldn't quite keep the hopeful note from his voice. 

You laughed softly, shaking your head in amusement. “That fond of them, huh? Yeah, I'll make more. Although we'll need to find a supply drop soon, I'm getting low on some things.” 

“We'll find another one soon, I bet.” Gaz tied off his bag and went to get another, wandering off to find a different type of berry. You just watched him go, a little ache in your chest. 

They'd all learned fast, had taken to living here more easily than anyone else you'd seen. It was incredible, and heartening. 

Even if something happened to you, they'd be fine. 

The rest of berry gathering went quickly and quietly, and the two of you went back to see what progress the others had made with meat. 

Between you and Price, it didn't take long to get things packed up on Bessie. (Soap still eyed the dino with mistrust, but he was coming around.) Soap and Ghost took the lead, Soap chatting as they walked. Price walked next to Bessie, keeping an eye on the rear, leaving you and Gaz walking together in the middle of the group. 

Everything was fine. You didn't see any movement around you, didn't hear anything unusual. 

Soap shouted ahead of you, and a gun boomed through the relative quiet. You took off, swearing when you spotted the long body on the ground. 

“Fuck,” you hissed, skidding to a halt at Soap's side. “Did it bite you?”

“Aye,” Soap hissed, looking down at his leg. “Burns.” 

“Shit.” You dropped to your knees, leaning closer. Sure enough, blood seeped from the bite mark, punctures clear from the fangs. 

You didn't have anything for this at base. Not for a titanoboa bite. 

“Get on Bessie,” you ordered, pushing back to your feet. “Now.” 

“But–” Soap looked confused for a moment. Ghost, fortunately, didn't care, and bodily moved Soap to the trike. Price didn't ask, just helped shove the mohawked man up onto the dino. 

“We need to move.” You didn't look back at them, just started towards the base. Gaz kept pace with you, shooting worried looks towards you. But you didn't say another word the entire way back to base, too busy thinking of what needed to be done. 

This was not going to be easy. You felt like a fool for not having anything for a titanoboa bite. But you hadn't seen one for a long time, hadn't thought they came to this area… 

It was still your fault. You hadn't prepared them for all the dangers of this place. 

You hadn't been prepared for this. 

If Soap died… 

No. No, you weren't going to let that happen. 

You pulled the gate open and ushered the others in. “Get him inside,” you said, glancing at Soap, who had gone pale and sweaty already. 

“What can we do?” Price asked, even as he helped Ghost get Soap down from on top of Bessie. 

“Get everything else inside,” you answered, barely waiting for Soap to be out of the way before you started unloading bags. “Keep him cool. Do whatever you have to, but he will be running a fever.” 

“There must be something else,” Gaz pressed as he took some things from you. 

“No,” you snapped. “You all are staying here. I am getting the things I need for the antidote.” 

“One of us should go with you,” Price argued, even as he took things from you too. 

“No. I'm taking Ripper. Nothing else will keep up with him.” You pulled off one of the bags from Bessie's side, putting it aside and unloading the second bag. 

“Let us finish this,” Price ordered, coming back out with Gaz. “Do what you need to get ready.” 

You didn't bother arguing, just dropped everything and jogged over to Ripper's paddock. The raptor huffed at you, prancing in place a little. 

“I know,” you murmured. “Hold still.” It took a little longer than you liked to get his saddle on and fastened properly. It had been a while since you'd ridden Ripper. But you finished and led him out of his paddock. 

“How long will you be gone?” Gaz hovered nearby, shifting his weight as he watched you. 

“Don't know,” you admitted, glancing at him for only a moment before the guilt threatened to render you useless. “I'll be as fast as I can, I swear.” 

“Be safe.” Gaz stepped closer, taking your hand and squeezing it. “Okay? Come back safe.” 

“I'll bring back what we need,” you promised instead. It didn't matter if you were safe. Speed was more important than safety. It mattered that you saved Soap, nothing else. 

Gaz squeezed your hand again, but didn't press the issue. Instead he backed up, giving you and Ripper room. 

“Stay,” you told the hyaenadon finally, leading Ripper to the gate. “Keep him hydrated and cool,” you reiterated to Gaz. “Whatever it takes.” 

But you didn't give him time to respond. You pulled yourself up into the saddle and clicked your tongue at Ripper. Finally free to run, the raptor took off, long strides eating up distance much faster than any other tame you'd ever seen. Except maybe a horse. 

You knew where you needed to go. You knew what you needed to get. But you didn't know what you'd encounter along the way. 

Dammit. 

But you wouldn't let Soap die. Not on your watch.

[comfortless]

syl you can not casually mention blacksmith König and leave it at that!

sighing… ok, yes, i will talk about blacksmith! König more..! ^^

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. violence, physical/emotional abuse, descriptions of injury, death, angst, marriage on the gallows au.

Before König, there was his father, his father’s father and so on. Hardened men who were left to rot on the outskirts of the little village: sharpen blades, birth something from slabs of iron and silver. The work was tedious, but never dull. Scrape, burn, turn and roll- over and over until the smoke rose from the pit to sting at his eyes. Birth by fire wasn’t only in myths of dragons and phoenixes; he witnessed it each time he held pure malice in his hands as his hammer struck. Nothing became something, deadly and cruel. Day and night his life and lungs were filled to brimming with hellfire.

Accidents happen, naturally. No matter how careful he’s been, there’s nothing to keep the flame from entirely taking back after giving so much.

König’s father lost a finger while mentoring him.

His blue eyes were fixed on the man’s callused hand as the freshly smithed blade sliced through the digit like it was little more than a dollop of honey, no blood. There had been nothing but the crack of bone carved cleanly through, then the wet sizzle of meat cooking as it fell into the pit.

His father had screeched like a starved demon then, a barrage of insults tossed his son’s way like little more than passing pleasantries: oaf, useless cur, bitch.

König hadn’t been concerned, he sat on the stone bench looking up at his father and told him so, that he was fine: it had been cauterized, cleansed by the fire.

König lost the same finger that day.

His mother had fallen ill sometime last winter. The last memory he had of her was the look of frailty on her face, how her skin felt so cold and yet she lie dampened with sweat.

The dogs and buzzards had gotten to her grave, but it wasn’t them he felt any of the fire’s malice for.

Just his father.

The villagers didn’t know what became of the blacksmith, but König could recall it every night; how even with his dying breath he had only thought to curse his only son.

So, he wears the hood of the last executioner now, and the people shy away. They don’t like the look of death unless they can participate in it as a divined audience.

The dogs are never hungry, there’s illness all throughout the valley, and sometimes it only shines through in shimmering eyes while the villagers stare and giggle at the next withering soul led to the gallows.

König knows he should be there; like mother and father, his bones should be shared between panting mouths and blood-stained beaks. Sometimes the boars come sniffing too, and he’s always hated them, maybe even more than the birds. They’re ugly and sturdy, squealing and snarling like his father.

The villagers looked at the boars, though, because they were useful. Their eyes were hungry and happy each night the men set out on a hunt, unaware that their sons and daughters lurked in the bellies of the very beasts they starved for.

It’s cold even during the summer months in his shack.

There are blankets, a kitchen, a hearth, but it’s empty. The winter makes its wastelands each coming year, envious of how he can accomplish such with fire instead of ice. He doesn’t need to clean. The ash blackens the wood, cleanses all. One day, maybe, it would scrub him too.

The fire is a womb, but it’s never birthed anything truly alive. Not until her. A wildfire swept the field where travelers had gathered. With their supplies reduced to the very cinders König had come to adore, the surviving members sweep right into this cursed place like it’s a holy temple.

And the fire gave her to him.

König doesn’t know where this woman came to settle from; she isn’t like the other villagers, not even the travelers with their items and skills for selling. There’s still life in her eyes. He watches her as she wanders down the street with a smile on her face, one that speaks of a kindness that not a single one of these people deserves.

She introduces herself to them too, without a title to her name, and all at once any interest fades as the ghosts wander away from her.

His mother used to force him into the church when she was still alive.

She would take him by the hand as he lumbered after her, sticking out amongst the crowd of parishioners who would sing their hymns and stare at him with contempt behind their eyes. He hated going, but he did it for his mother; father was much too busy to spend his time with her and her fantasies. But König learned of angels there, fragile feathered things, all eyes and wings that wouldn’t stand a chance against a blade.

He didn’t think delicate things could be holy until her sweet, gentle smile is cast upon him.

This lady walks right up to him, doesn’t bat an eye at his hood when her lips curl up as she introduces herself. She doesn’t mind the sack of weapons thrown over his shoulder to take to the marketplace— the swords, the daggers, none of it. Her eyes don’t even glance their way; she looks only to him.

Women like this don’t want their homes and beds covered in ash, cinder in place of incense, fire instead of honey. But still she smiles while he says nothing.

König isn’t the only man who’s heart she steals, either.

The village is all gray, smoke and rot except where she walks. Flowers spring up for the coming spring, the deer and foxes are calling out for mates, and it’s all because of her— everyone must know it.

The farmer’s son brings her fresh fruit and whispers into her ear while they pass by his shack on a stroll. The man’s arm curls around her waist so naturally that König can only be reminded of the way that dagger sank between his fathers fingers, tore off a bit of him to feed back to hungry flame. If there were any god above he knew right then that it wouldn’t want him to allow that to happen to her. Not to an angel.

When the rest of the men, dogs and seraphim sleep, König tears the farmer’s boy in two— split down chest to abdomen and left as food for the pigs, right there in the middle of the field.

He doesn’t pray, he hasn’t since the last time he knelt by his mother’s sickbed, but he closes his eyes and breathes out a wish when he leaves that bloodied dagger at her doorstep.

He doesn’t pray, but he weeps when he rallies the villagers to apprehend her. She cries and fusses, face puffy from sleep and hair a mess. There isn’t a speck of blood on her, but the vultures take her anyway. König didn’t want to see her hurt; when her eyes find his, he turns away.

The day of her execution arrives like a festival ceremony. It’s been some time since the last, the scavengers are hungry, so famished he thinks he can almost hear them lick their teeth. There would be no death today, it’s already been decided. In distant places, a single act of devotion is all it takes to save a life, one that the beasts didn’t have the right to take.

The hunger wasn’t always just for death, but for something… a turn and change like steel in fire.

When the angel is taken to her death, rope dangling from her neck like a lead meant for cattle, he steps forward, parting the crowd with an ease. He’s practiced this a time or two in the smoke already, a lonesome and loathing god in the fog. The others scurry from him, looking up at him with pinched brows and bared teeth as if to goad he take her life instead.

Instead, he only catches her eye, smiles and lowers himself on one knee.

[angelynmoon]

Eldritch Steve

Part 11

-

Eddie stared at Wayne, Wayne stared back, for several long moments neither one blinked but Eddie was human and so eventually he had to.

"Arg, remind me not to get into staring contests with Eldritch beings!" Eddie yelled as he rubbed his watery eyes.

"You never once won a staring contest with me boy, no reason to start now." Wayne said with a shrug, "You want coffee, Steve?"

"You're not mad at me for telling Eddie?" Steve asked, nervously.

"Surprised it took so long." Wayne handed Steve a mug, all of them had been replaced with the new two bedroom trailer.

Steve also knew that several soldiers had gone missing when they insulted Eddie in Wayne's presence, Steve had claimed he'd overheard them talking so he'd eaten them, which had the confronting soldiers cringing back and Owens blanching and making a quick escape.

"It wasn't my secret to tell, but he needs to know what being Mated to one of us means." Steve said, holding his mug in both hands.

"He is right here." Eddie reinserted himself into the conversation, "And I know what I'm getting into, Steve told me about spawning."

Wayne looked at Eddie and then at Steve, "How much did you tell him about spawning?"

Steve blushed, "As much as I know."

Wayne stared at him and then sighed, "Settle in, the both of you, we've got a long night ahead."

Because Wayne knew just how much about Spawning Steve knew or more exactly how little he knew. Spawning alone was different than Spawning with a Mate, and with the species difference, well, there were reasons that Wayne had yet to Spawn himself, and it wasn't just Eddie appearing on his doorstep.

As Eddie's adult he had a duty to prepare him, as the last Adult of his kind he had a duty to Steve too.

For all that Steve had killed their race he was, in fact, still considered a child of their race, not much older than those kids he'd claimed as his, if Wayne wasn't slightly afraid of Steve killing him like he'd killed all the others, he'd forbid them to even think of Spawning, but Steve was dangerous, though he did not appear so and Wayne doubted Eddie's affection for him would protect him for long if he stood in Steve's way.

So, Wayne would prepare them.

Because Spawn only appeared as eggs when one parent was involved, the embryo forming inside the parent and forming the protective shell on it's journey to the outside world.

Spawn that had two parent were born live and hungry, if Steve and Eddie Spawned they would need meat, raw and the fresher the better, ready for when their babies clawed their way into the world.

Eddie would have to distract them with the meat so Steve could heal, otherwise they might feast on his flesh, they ate their own for strength, afterall.

And Wayne would not be allowed near once Steve was expecting, Steve's instincts would see him as a threat to him and the eventual young, and Wayne couldn't say he wouldn't be tempted to eat the possibly runts, it wouldn't be the first time he'd eaten the newly born, he'd eaten several of his Spawnmates when he'd clawed his way out of his birth parent and his secondary parent hadn't been quick enough to fill his belly.

Wayne didn't remember Steve's Spawning parents, it was likely they'd abandoned him early on, expecting him to die quickly, some Spawning parents would eat their defective ones but others felt the need to let the other creatures have a taste of them. It was a testament to Steve's strength that he'd survived so long on his own.

Their race wasn't kind, not even to their young.

But maybe, Wayne thought as he looked at a waiting Steve and a trying to escape Eddie, he could change that, or at least Steve and Eddie could.

-

A/n: like I said Ao3 is down and well, I still have nothing better to do, so enjoy.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48500452?view_full_work=true

Ao3 is back, so here's the link, I didend up calling it From the Rot, for now at least, thank you for all you suggestions though. <3

@addelyin @merricatty @lesbiabrobin @apuckishwit @0o-mushroom-o0 @starlight-archer @darkwitchoferie @just-a-tiny-void @swimmingbirdrunningrock @intergalactic-president-awesome @vampireinthesun @goodolefashionedloverboi @adhdsummer @purpleanimeoverart @space-invading-pigeon @lilaclilyroses @nohomoyesbi @plantzzsandpencilzzs @korixae @subversivecynic @flusteredcas @persnicketysquares @freddykicksasses @little-trash-ghost @cupcakesnwhiskey @cats-ate-all-of-my-pasta @planetsoda @paintsplatteredandimperfect @irregular-child @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @steddieassheg0es

[paxcallow]

Shoutout to your Raz for being a little cutie patootie anyway can you spare a headcanons about him for the poor *holding out my little orphan lad hat*

hehehe thank you also OH BABY YOU KNOW I CAN! i may have like 3 hours before i have to get a train to georgia but i always have time for RAZ and TALKING about RAZ!

PAX RAZ HEADCANONS GO! NO PARTICULAR ORDER OR THEME.

raz becomes pescetarian after the meat circus. i say pescetarian and not vegetarian because of his toxic relationship with Crab Sandwich. crab sandwich is raz's friend. but raz kind of wants to eat crab sandwich.

^ raz is kind of a freak.

like all things, raz picks up hydrokinesis pretty quickly, but for a while the Hand of Galochio Aquato will not grant him access to water deep enough to swim in. he beats himself up over this somewhat because neither queepie or frazie struggle with the hand like he does and while they're learning to swim, he's standing on the surface of the water like jesus.

actually, i feel like the Hand was always the most physically real to raz than any of the others because of his lack of denial about being a psychic. all the others felt the unnatural fear at a body of water and it grew much more violent and undertowed in the presence of the psychics, but a young razputin aquato heard the name "Hand of Galochio" and took that very literally.

sorry for the sadcanons. bonus augustus headcanon for your trouble. this barrier to water is something raz and dad can bond over, because while augustus can physically get in the water, he is utter ass at swimming and learns it the slowest of anyone in the family. he is so brave but after a lifetime of water curse, being in it feels the most unnatural. you know that clip from golden boy of kintaro(?) drowning all the way across the pool before turning around and very badassly going "So! How do you like my swimming. >:)" that's augustus while raz runs across the water beside him cheering him on.

he got his goggles from true psychic tales magazine, but he uses them now mostly to combat visual overstimulation. it takes him several years to realize that's what he's doing. projecting through a psi portal is very visually intense and that's why raz is convinced for the longest time that those things actually did anything psychic.

a combination of what donatella calls "sibling survival instinct" being surrounded by so many kids his age at camp, needing to blow off steam after just having run away from home, and wanting to make a good impression at his big new job is what explains the difference in raz's rudeness between psychonauts 1 and 2. in psychonauts 3, raz is going to repeatedly say some out of pocket shit to some fellow kids and then feel really guilty because he's a professional now.

i know i've said this before but it bears repeating that raz is a little menace about tickling. he just genuinely likes it and can't imagine that anyone might not. but he's soooooo shy so his primary way of getting tickles himself is being a little shit. that tends to do the trick. he's definitely not extremely obvious about it every single time. everyone totally doesn't know what he's doing.

raz proudly eats food off the floor. raz thinks wasting food is a crime!! he'll eat your leftovers. he'll drink the rest of your soda. he'll eat the other half of your sandwich. empty your unwanted snax into the grumpus that is razputin aquato.

this is sometimes the only way to get him to eat because often he forgets to until his stomach is screaming at him to spare its life. when he is very focused on something for a while, raz's neglect of himself hits him all at once. man im tired- ooh wait im hungry- oh im thirsty too- AH my eyes hurt have i not been blinking- whoa how is it after midnight already- OUCH i have a headache! my feet hurt! etc. he. needs people looking out for him.

raz is going to be a really good dad one day.

raz knows he is cute. intellectually. he uses this to his advantage to subtly manipulate adults into letting things slide or giving him floor bacon. but he has not internalized the fact that he is genuinely a little cutie pie not through his genetics and social engineering skills, but by being a little dorky smush face who is always earnest, borderline transparent, so so so brave, easily embarrassed, wanting to be friends with everyone, being a little baby bean,[i am slowly dragged off the stage with a cane]

[lindszeppelin]

DIRTY DEEDS [pt. 1]

Pairing: Austin Butler x Fem!Reader

Prompt: 1970s New York. Austin is tightly wound in the Italian Mafia. Living a life of crime has it's drawbacks. Austin and his wife figure out whether enjoying the perks of being the hottest couple in the big apple with high roller power is worth their lives.

Rating: Mature. 18+.

Word Count: 13.5k

Warnings: Violence, physical assault, blood, smut, oral (m. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), swearing, some 70s slang/verbiage, drinking, corruption

The streets of New York City are dangerous to navigate for the uninitiated. It's not enough to be savvy with book smarts - that will only get you so far in life. Try walking down 5th Avenue at night. Even if you're the smartest person in the world who thinks they know everything, you're a damn fool. Best case scenario is you're gonna get mugged within an inch of your life, and the robbers will leave you a bloody pulp on the sidewalk like yesterday's trash. One has to be wise to the dealings of the streets. It's a dog eat dog world, and only the toughest, thick-skinned individuals can survive the Big Apple unphased.

For Austin Butler, a life of brazen crime was not one that he envisioned for himself. It seemed like he was thrust into quick sand, and before he knew which way was up it was too late. Austin was no regular Joe-Schmoe however. He was well aware of the goings on around New York City. As an actor who's climbing the social ladder and intertwining himself into the higher echelons of society, he's learned a thing or two about keeping your mouth shut and never fucking with the wrong people.

But Austin is one of the lucky ones. At least to any outsider. He came from a good, loving family who supported his dreams. While money didn't grow on trees, he was well off than most people. His parents raised him on the value of a dollar and treating others with respect. Plus, he knew what it was like to go hungry. Ever the gentle soul, he was drawn to helping the less fortunate. And New York City's growing homeless population was the perfect breeding ground for those with dastardly schemes to sink their teeth into the ripe flesh and feed.

It's no secret that the Italian community is thriving and strong, becoming the backbone of the state's culture. You can't walk down the street without seeing about three Italian restaurants, a deli serving the freshest meats, and a pizzeria selling hot pies like it's going out of style. But before New York City became rife with bigshots with bloated pockets full of hundred dollar bills wrapped in rubberbands, poor immigrant families of times yonder sailed the seas to Ellis Island. Brooklyn became a home away from home for these wandering souls. Little Italy was just a small slice of the Bronx, but everybody knew everyone's business.

One of these immigrant families ruled the city with an iron fist, and they have been for generations. The thoroughbred Sicilians named the Tenaglia's reigned supreme, offering those in need of assistance with whatever they asked for. But of course, it always came with a price. The poorest of neighbors to the high ranking officials of the city like the police were in the back pockets of the Tenaglia's. You name it - lawyers, bankers, real estate brokers, doctors and others were on bended knee to the Tenaglia's - especially to the Godfather, Don Antonio Tenaglia. And nobody batted an eyelash. It's a funny thing what money can do to a person's morale.

Austin's acting career led him to the Big Apple mostly for gigs and also for charity work on the side. It was here that he met someone that would alter the course of his life. Pellegrino Tenaglia was the youngest son of Antonio, and often considered the best looking Tenaglia - his long dark locks are always tucked nicely behind his ears, and his dark hazel eyes shine gorgeously off his olive oil tanned skin. If he wasn't knee deep in his father's business he would probably make it big as a model or movie star. Antonio made sure all his sons latched onto some kind of career where they could have a foothold in all different areas of the city. Pellegrino is a nice boy and dutifully respects his father. So he took up looking after some of the charities in the poor neighborhoods. While it's not the life that Pellegrino wanted for himself, who was he to go against the wishes of his iron fisted family? As the baby of the bunch he knew it was almost impossible for him to get a word in edgewise before he gets overshadowed by his older brothers who think they know better. He figured that while he was put into this situation, he might as well try to do some actual good for the community he was born and raised in. This was where his path with Austin would collide.

While it might seem like an unlikely match, Austin and Pellegrino bonded naturally over their love of helping the less fortunate. They were also close in age with Austin being a year older than him at 31. They struck up a friendship rather quickly, and pretty soon the laidback Tenaglia son showed Austin around to some local spots. While Pellegrino is a party animal, he likes to schmooze and have a good time. He can make quick friends with strangers in only minutes with a flash of his crooked smile and effortless charm.

Nightlife in the city was unmatched. Studio 54 was the hottest dance club to ever grace the nation - anyone who's anyone goes there to rock to the pumping music and get their picture taken for publicity. Austin was a shy man, so he doesn't get out to dance that much. But spending time with Pellegrino, who goes by Green, allowed the genteel blonde to open up more.

"You gotta get out and embrace life a little, man. I know you don't wanna be cooped up in a soup kitchen all damn day. Lemme show you the ropes." Green would say cheerily, his thick Bronx accent rolling off his tongue.

One of these particular evenings, the line at Studio 54 was reaching far around a couple of blocks. While Green could probably sweet talk the bouncers with a knowing wink and the utterance of his last name, he got the better idea to take Austin to a hole in the wall club that most people don't know about. "It's fucking awesome in here. You're gonna love it." Green would say, pushing Austin along with a firm but friendly hand on his back. Austin on the other hand is sweating bullets.

One last turn of a corner and there they were, at their destination. Green held the door of the club open for Austin and the tall man walked in with his tail tucked between his legs. If you didn't know it, one could assume Austin was on his way to get a stern lecturing from his boss based on how badly he was shaking. He was out of his element completely. But he didn't have time to convince Green to turn around and walk home. Before Austin knew it, he was already thrust to the club's bar and forced down onto an open barstool with a slap on the back from his friend. The bartender nodded to the gentleman and expectantly waited for their orders.

Green spoke up first with his voice, smooth as butter. "A beer for me, please. And what do you want, Butler?" He asked.

Austin cleared his throat and tired his best to adjust quickly to the change in surroundings. "Uh, i'll have a whiskey on the rocks." Austin spoke to the bartender politely. The sharp dressed man in a polyester suit behind the bar went to work on fixing up the men's drinks.

The loud music blaring and the chatty cathy's coming in and out of the club passing by Austin was overwhelming to his senses. He could feel his wallflower demeanor start to creep up on him. He hoped he could curb the anxiety by placing a Marlboro cigarette between his plush lips and flicking his zippo lighter he pulled from his pants pocket, inhaling the cloud of smoke deeply into his lungs before exhaling through his nose.

Green seemed to notice his friend's reservations and leaned his elbow on the counter, facing Austin with his muscular build. "Hey man, no stress. You know I wouldn't take you to a place that wasn't happenin'. Once you get some of that whiskey down your neck I'm sure your feet will lead you to the dance floor." He said, projecting his voice loud enough over the music so Austin could hear.

The shy man put the cigarette between his lips as he ran a hand through his long golden tresses. "We'll see where the night takes us I suppose." He muffled. Two long fingers grasped the cigarette as he took another drag and blew the smoke out the side of his mouth, away from his friend.

This satisfied Green who plastered a wide grin across his face, and patted Austin on the shoulder. Austin was used to getting physically manhandled by Green, it was just how he showed his affection. "Cool, man. That's what I like to hear. Keep an open mind."

Clubs were not a place that Austin frequented very much, if at all. He was the kind of man to enjoy staying home or going out to a nice restaurant. He wouldn't even consider himself a dancer. To think about going out on the dancefloor and moving his feet to the beat of the music has his palms clammy and his stomach doing nauseating flips.

The bartender slid down a freshly cracked Heineken for Green, who thanked the man behind the counter with a nod before wrapping his lips around the bottle and guzzling down the frothy liquid.

Slowly but surely the music started to dwindle down and a sleazy voice slurred over the club's speakers. "Alright ladies and gents, this one goes out to two very foxy mamas out there on the dance floor. You know who you are. Take it away." Said the DJ, a little too close to the microphone. The curly haired mustachioed man behind the booth replaced the vinyl with a fresh one on the turntable, and turned the volume all the way up to eleven.

The sweet melodic strings of Bee Gees "More Than a Woman" rolls on through the club and hit's Austin's ears. Instinctively he rolls his eyes. He's heard the song all over the radio and frankly he despises the tune for how overplayed it is. But tonight will give him a reason to turn his opinion around, he just doesn't know it yet. The party goers all rushed to the dance floor and grabbed a partner. Anyone who had any sense at all would be swaying back and forth to the music, but Austin and Green were onlookers as they observed from their barstools on the second floor of the club.

Austin kept taking drags from his cigarette, watching the way that the beautifully dressed women were spinning around their partners. While he wasn't one to think he had a chance at dancing, he did yearn for a special someone to hold close to him and put the rhythm in his body. While he looked on with a good poker face, on the inside his heart swelled for the chance to take his forever lady on the floor. Maybe one day.

Completely oblivious to the two men, the bartender placed Austin's whiskey on the counter with his own coaster. When Austin heard the glass clink down on the counter top he spun back around and gingerly sipped away at the musky amber liquid. He tapped the excess ashes of his cigarette in a nearby ashtray, taking his eyes off the dancefloor to shyly study the mound of ice in his glass, letting his melancholia posses his thoughts.

Green however was not one to wither away into his drink. He kept his focus entirely on the crowd of dancers, admiring the smooth moves from some of the couples. His foot was tapping on the floor and his head was bobbing along in time to the swing beat. This was his sanctuary away from his family, and he found comfort in the multi-colored lights and sparkling discoball that shined like a beacon touching down from Heaven.

As he scoped out the crowd his eyes narrowed in on two particular women in the center of the floor, dancing together. His deep set eyes widened at the realization. "Holy shit. Unbelievable." He gawked.

"Hmm?" Austin mumbled, quirking his brow at Green.

"My wife is down there. I was wondering where this chick was at all day. Should have known I'd find her on some dancefloor." Green laughed. He took another swig of his beer, his eye never leaving the vision of his wife working wonders on the floor. Tiffany was also a party animal like Green. The two go together like bread and butter. If she wasn't out shopping or at home making the house all perfect for her husband when he gets home, she's out strutting her stuff under a discoball.

"No kidding," Austin chuckled. "She's a dancer?" He asked, bringing his cigarette back to his lips.

Green smirked knowingly. "Only the best dancer in the whole tri-state area as far as i'm concerned." Green leaned back against the bar counter and admired his wife twirling around on the lower level.

Austin blew his smoke out his nose and spun around on his barstool to face the crowded floor once more. "Which one is she?" He asked, trying to scope out the terrain.

Green gestured to the dance floor with the nose of his beer bottle. "You see the one in the middle of the floor with the red hair? Green dress? That's my Tiffany." He smiled proudly, his heart swelling at the thought that the beautiful woman out there dancing to her heart's content was his wife.

Austin squinted his eyes, finally landing on the firey redhead, who stood out among the crowd of blondes and brunettes alike. He nodded absentmindedly to himself that but of course the handsome Tenaglia son would bag a beautiful girl. He caught a glimpse of her satin green dress twirling around her as she spun hand in hand with her dance partner. Tiffany was never alone on the dance floor, her best friend would always accompany her. And tonight was as per usual.

As the men watched Tiffany dance, they could finally see the woman she was dancing with. At first all that they could make out was a mass of fluffy, perfectly bouncy blown out curls. When the woman finally spun around, her visage no longer a mystery, Austin's jaw nearly hit the floor. The mystery woman looked like she had stepped out of a fairytale. Her curves were supple and accented gorgeously with white bellbottom pants and a cropped long sleeve top that was tied at the small of her waist, accenting her cleavage. Did Cupid just come down and strike Austin's heart with an arrow? Because in all his life he swears he's never seen a more sexy creature. He leaned forward on his barstool, trying to get a better look at the woman who set his heart asunder. At any moment he was sure he'd have a heart attack. "Who's that dancing with your wife?" Austin asked perhaps a little too nervously, but he tried to play it off.

Green rose to his feet to get a better view from up above. "Oh that's Y/N. She's like a sister to Tiff. Known her for years. She's a nice girl." Green placed his hands on his hips and turned back on his boot heels to face Austin. Almost immediately he could tell that Austin was somewhere on another planet. He had faraway eyes, and all he heard Pellegrino say was her name. It played on a loop in the blonde's mind, thinking it was the most beautiful string of syllables he's ever heard. He so lost in his own thoughts that he barely noticed his cigarette was burning so fast that it was mostly all ash crumbling in his hands and threatening to make a mess of his nice slacks.

Green smirked at his friend, and raised a quizzical brow. "You want me to introduce you?" He asked, knowing the answer would most likely be yes.

Austin's mouth went dry at the thought. She looked like an angel as she smiled wide, giggling with Tiffany as the women danced around each other. The way her body swayed to the beat of the music sent blood rushing straight to Austin's manhood. He needed to know her. He had to talk to her. But like this? Austin felt like a school boy with a crush on the prettiest girl in the class. He rubbed the sweat from his palms onto his thighs and tried his best to quell the blood rushing straight for his cock. Not that it had been a long time since Austin was with a woman. But there was something about this femme fatal that captured his unique interest. She beguiled him from across the room. For all she knew, she didn't even know of his existence. Not yet anyway.

"Do you think she'd go for me? Honestly." Austin asked Green anxiously.

The charming brunette walked up to Austin and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, shaking him a little to jostle those nagging thoughts out of his mind. "Listen here. You're a single, well-to-do good looking man. She's my wife's best friend, an exceptional dancer, and she's also single. I know she hasn't gone steady with a guy for a long time. She's not a sleaze, she's got brains and a heart. So in my opinion I think you two would hit it off. But we don't know that for sure unless you make a move." Green said confidently. He was right. How could you really know unless you just plunge headfirst into the deep end. Tonight, Austin would be putting his faith in the universe and himself to the test.

Austin placed the barely there cigarette between his lips and inhaled deeply. He nodded as he let the smoke exhale from his nostrils. Austin was accepting his fate. He knew he would either let the anxiety he was feeling ruin his night and have him leaving the club, crawling under the covers never to see the light of day again. Or, he would probably embarrass himself when sweet talking his dreamgirl. Either option is far from acceptable. But, he had to make the effort and try. Otherwise some other guy would scoop her up before he has the chance. This was it. It was now or never.

"Fuck it. You're right." Austin said, self assured in his final decision.

Green took hold of the glass of whiskey Austin was nursing and forced it into the blonde's hands. "Drink up brother, I can tell you haven't done this shit in a while." He laughed.

Austin smiled nervously, a breathy chuckle fogging up the glass. "Is it that obvious?" He asked. Austin took a generous helping. The amber liquid pooled into his mouth and coated his tongue, letting the fragrant musk linger on his palette before swallowing it down in one gulp.

"Unfortunately yes, but I think we can remedy that. Just follow my lead and you'll be good as gold. Capisce?" Green slapped Austin on the back before nudging him off the barstool and up on his feet.

As the Italian man took Austin by the collar of his shirt he felt like the room was spinning. He pushed Austin down the flight of stairs that led from the second floor down below to the open dance floor. Every which way drunk patrons were fumbling around the tall blonde. The flashing colored lights disoriented him as he kept his eagled eyes strictly on his earth angel. His heart was about to leap out of his chest.

As the romantic Bee Gees song came to a fadeout, Tiffany and her friend slowed their movements and paused to catch their breaths. Out of the corner of her brown eyes, Tiffany spotted Pellegrino. The expression on her cherub face was one of surprise and pure delight.

Green's arms fell open to his sides and he beamed out a pearly white smile. "Well well, look at what we have here! My beautiful wife is dancing without me." He spoke playfully.

The cute redhead scrunched her button nose and scurried over to her husband. Tiffany's porcelain complexion balanced out with her eye-catching locks, which she paired with a matching red lipstick. Her satin dress was a divine shade of sage, complimenting her perfectly. She cutely tip toed on the balls of her heeled feet and flung her arms around Pellegrino.

"Fancy seeing you here, handsome!" Said Tiffany excitedly. She had the voice of a princess, and her sunny personality was definitely infectious. She could light up a room. No wonder why Pellegrino married her. The lovebirds hugged each other in a warm embrace for what seemed like eternity. And while Green and Tiffany were wrapped up in each other, Austin couldn't hide the obvious fact of his staring at the gorgeous creature standing beside the redhead.

A shy, nervous smile crept up on the corners of his voluptuous lips at the woman standing by Tiffany's side. Now that she was close enough to him, Austin could make out more of her features up close. She was even more beautiful than he had realized, which strikes him dumb and unable to function. The woman smiled back at Austin as she tucked a piece of her hair behind her ears. To his surprise, she looked like she was captivated by him as well. He noticed that she gave him a quick once over, eyeing his tall and built frame accented gorgeously in Austin's suit- and she definitely liked what she saw.

Tiffany pulled away from Green and gave him a quick peck on the lips, wiping off the red lipstick residue from her husband's mouth. Green sheepishly smiled and turned his attention back to Austin. "Babydoll, there's someone I want you to meet. This is my friend Austin Butler. Austin, this is my better half."

Austin snapped out of his daydream and turned his attention to his friend. He nodded and graciously shook her hand. "Tiffany, it's a pleasure to meet you."

She giggled, her friendly eyes shimmering as she stood tall and proud. "Nice to meet you too Austin."

Green placed one of his hands around Austin's shoulder, and the other one gestured out to Y/N. "And this is Y/N. She keeps my Tiffany on her toes, literally." He laughed.

Austin closed the distance with one stride of his long legs, and he held out a trembling hand to the beautiful lady. "Hi. It's most certainly a pleasure to meet you, Y/N." He cooed.

Her cheeks flushed a rosy hue, blushing at how kind and downright handsome the blonde was. She extended one of her hands, and the minute she made contact with Austin he felt a bolt of lightening rock him to the core. To hold onto just this tiny piece of her was intensely electrifying. He couldn't help but gasp faintly as he looked into her gorgeous eyes. She was sucking him right into her sphere.

Finally, he heard his angel speak. "It's wonderful to meet you too, Austin."

And as the saying goes, the rest is history. To say that Austin was smitten about you was an understatement. He always struggled in past relationships, trying to find the girl of his fantasies that he could settle down with. Because of his celebrity status he either had girls that just wanted to fuck him and run to the press about it, or girls that only saw dollar signs.

But you were different. You saw through to who Austin was at a soul level, and you loved him as if he was just any run of the mill person. To you, he is your guiding light. And you intend to keep him happy for the rest of your life. You and Austin spent every waking moment together. Soon enough you were spending holidays with his family and getting ingrained with the Tenaglia's, who had in a way adopted Austin as their unofficial son and brother. To have their approval meant the world to you, and to him as well. Finally, he had found the missing piece to his puzzle. He felt whole and complete with his woman by his side - his dance partner for all eternity.

The tabloids had a field day when it was announced that the handsome bachelor was engaged to be married. Pictures of you and him were smattered across every newspaper on the east coast. Eventually, he permanently moved from California to settle down with you in New York. This transition worked out well in favor of the Tenaglia's who liked to keep their friend close by to them.

Pellegrino was chosen as best man, and Tiffany was the maid of honor. Anyone who was anyone was invited to the "wedding of the decade", according to the New York Times.

The dance circuit was still as popping as ever, and after a little while of settling into married life and figuring out finances, you and Austin merge as business partners to create Tease - the hottest club to rival that of Studio 54. Every Saturday there would be a dance competition called Boogie Nights where all the best dancers would compete for first place bragging rights, a trophy, and a bit of a cash prize. It was good incentive for people to keep stopping by the club and spending their hard earned money at Tease.

The place actually started to be self sustainable after only a month or two. Green naturally drew more people into the club, and he used a lot of his connections in the mob to bring his friends down there and spread the word. it wasn't long before Tease was the most popular club in New York. The likes of celebrities, musicians, actors and more were spotted at your club - and it only increased your profits. Most of the money made at Tease was split between you and Austin, and the Tenaglia's also got a small cut for helping to promote the club by word of mouth and a little persuasion.

It's not exactly what you envisioned when opening a club with your husband, to have his mafia compadres be latched onto it, but you learned real quick that to appease the Tenaglia's you had to play by their rules and keep your mouth shut. So that's what you did. Plus you trusted Austin's opinion on the family. They took him in and treated him like a son. So, what harm could it do to have them be a part of Tease?

It's not like you were crawling on your hands and knees for the Tenaglia's to help out with business. Afterall, you and Austin are the hottest couple in New York. While you were once an unknown random woman to the general public who was marrying a high profile celebrity, now you were one yourself. All the women took inspiration from how you wore you hair and makeup on the dancefloor, and they definitely copied your fashion. You were becoming somewhat of a local celebrity. And with Austin by your side, you felt like you could do anything. You were on top of the world.

~~~Present day~~~

Tonight is Boogie Nights down over at Tease. The place is bumping with loud disco music. The club is filled with thick clouds of cigarette smoke, and the clinking glasses of alcohol filled the air. There was barely a seat left unoccupied, it was a packed madhouse. Everyone in the Bronx got all dolled up in their best outfits and hair sprayed high to the heavens for this event. Before the competition starts, you let the patrons have their chance to dance on the floor before the professional competitors tear it up.

You and Austin are like the perfect tag team, keeping the joint going. You're out there on the floor, schmoozing with the guests and selling them on getting a drink at the bar. Meanwhile, Austin is letting in all the high rollers and making sure the friends of the Tenaglia's and other goodfellas are well fed and well drunk. Keeping them happy means keeping everyone happy.

You spot your husband from across the room. You decide to take a break from forging friendships with the crowd and make an appearance by his side. Afterall, you know as well as Austin that when it comes to being linked to the Tenaglia family, you have to show people how powerful you are. Seeing is believing.

Your red dress flows effortlessly around your stocking clad legs, the breeze wafting through your perfectly coiffed curls. You wear your best smile as you near the table at the side of the dancefloor where Austin is working his magic at winning over the men. He looks so sexy in his black button down shirt and grey pinstripe pants that hug the curve of his ass deliciously. A couple of buttons are left undone, on purpose, and the gold cross he's wearing hangs down his chiseled chest and lands in his tufts of blonde chest hairs. He looks scrumptious. You almost can't believe this blonde beauty is yours.

Austin stands over the table, looking authoritative yet friendly as he laughs and greets each man one by one with a firm handshake. You make yourself known by reaching out to touch your husband's back with a soft caress of your hand.

"Hi baby, I see that you've welcomed our guests." You say in your bubbliest voice. "I hope you gentlemen are enjoying your evening." You announce to the entire party. Austin smiles warmly at you, wrapping his arm around your waist and bringing you into his side, showing you off to the men.

The group of Italian men smirk at you, while some of them keep their nose down firmly in their drinks, not giving a damn about niceties and looking to get plastered. The man who you assume to be the ring leader flashes a smile at you, showing off his imperfect teeth. He's probably about 60-something, around the same generation as Don Antonio. He seems to have kind brown eyes. And he has a nice head of salt and pepper hair combed back off his ruddy complexion. A thick Brooklyn accent seeps past his thin lips. "Thank you doll. It's hard to not have a good time when you get treated with the upmost of respect 'round 'ere. Your husband keeps a tight ship I see."

Austin shyly smiles, and you pat his chest lovingly at the praise. "Yes he certainly does. I'm the luckiest woman in the entire world." You say proudly.

As you pass glances around the table, you notice some of the men perk up at you. You brush off the ones the ogle a little too long for your liking, which you thought was inappropriate for the setting and the fact that your husband was standing right next to you. Austin notices this as well. He makes a mental note of which men are looking for trouble so he can keep a close eye on them. Obviously he's aware that you're a beautiful girl, and it's only natural to get a couple of eyes on you. But you're his woman, and these bozos should know their place. Austin leans over and kisses your temple, making a show for certain men at the table. They cock their eyebrows and get the picture, going back to putting their head down and drinking their beverages. That put them off for now, and Austin feels his ego boosting.

"I should be so lucky as to be called her husband. You say I keep a tight ship, sir, but Tease wouldn't be what it is without this little lady right here. She's the reason for it all." Austin cooed, beaming a dazzling grin at you.

The older italian man bowed his head in respect with a smile still plastered on his crooked teeth. "You seem like a good kid, Austin. I speak for everyone here at this table when I say that I wish you and your wife many years of a blissful marriage. It'll be 20 years with my Maria in a couple of weeks, so I understand the bond between a husband and a wife. Not that any of these schmucks would know what it means to bring home the bacon to a doting wife. Ain't that right, boys?" The man said rhetorically, purposefully getting a rise out of the other mobsters at the table. If they wanted to keep their heads, they would nod and laugh along with the joke. Some of them do, and others roll their eyes snidely. Again, Austin took note of who clearly had respect and who didn't.

You perked up, sidestepping over the joke with grace. "Well fellas, please let either me or Austin know if you need anything tonight. More refills on your drinks, a song request. Anything, you name it." You say happily, playing the role of mafia wife to a T.

The older italian man raised his glass. "Greatly appreciated, Miss. Salut." He said. The table all raised in saying cheers before downing their drinks.

Austin bowed gracefully at the entire table, and turned on his heel with you still glued by his side. You could feel Austin's hand grip your waist just a little bit harder as you both walked away.

"You saved me back there. I definitely owe you one later." He said out the side of his mouth, attempting to pass smiles and little nods to the patrons that waved hello to the two of you.

"All in a days work, Mr. Butler." You joked.

Austin chuckled, his laugh reverberating deep within his chest and vibrating off of your body that's tightly pressed into his polyester side. "How's about I get you a drink, baby? Tell me what you want, i'll have Marcus make something special for you." Marcus is the bartender for Tease. He's young, handsome, and charismatic enough to attract everyone and keep them filled with booze. He's not a Tenaglia, but he's aware of the prestige that comes with being part of the family unit. Plus he makes a great cocktail.

Before you were about to say to Austin what you wanted to order, while you're both standing at the bar, a boisterous voice cuts through the music and random chatter of the crowd like glass. You recognize that husky sing-song anywhere. Carmine Tenaglia, also goes by C. He's the oldest son to Antonio. You can always tell when Carmine enters a room because you can hear him before you see him. His voice has taken a bit of a beating, sounding like he smokes about 4 packs a day. He wasn't blessed with conventional good looks like Pellegrino, but he's rough around the edges in a bad boy kind of way that gets the attention from women. His big brown eyes can melt butter, but behind those eyes is a fire that screams "don't fuck with me." He never lets his hair down, he always keeps is slicked back with gel and a side part. And he dresses to the nines. Clearly, he loves the life and everything that comes with it. Out of all the Tenaglia brothers, he enjoys spending money on clothes, cars, and fancy dates - even though he's married. But what his wife doesn't know won't hurt her, according to his logic.

Carmine is imposing, loud, but most of all he commands respect from everyone he meets. As the oldest son, he likes to think he takes charge over his father. And sometimes he will give out orders on behest of the family name before consulting with the other men. You know better than to try and cause problems with him. When he drinks, you never know what Carmine is capable of.

Carmine pushes through the crowd of dancers, and you can now clearly see the Italian man making his way over to you both. He has a nice smile surrounded by his typical 5 o'clock shadow he sports. And of course he's in his Saturday best with a matching black suit adorned with gaudy gold jewelry. "Hey! Look at youse! If I had a nickel for every time I'd see you two attached at the hip i'd be a millionaire." He said, laughing heartily. "Come 'ere, you son of a bitch!" He said, pulling Austin around by the shoulders. Austin laughed and embraced Carmine with a bear hug.

"Hey C, nice to see you." Austin said in the man's ear. After a few seconds of a warm familial hug, Carmine pulls away and looks over Austin, patting him on the shoulders roughly, clearly a Tenaglia family trait of brotherly rough-housing that got passed down.

"Man, you always look like a million bucks. You must go to the same tailor I do. Sanduskies on 34th Street will have you going from rags to riches in a few stitches. Hey, they should use that as their tagline." Carmine chuckled, thinking he's the funniest man since Richard Prior.

Austin blushed and patted Carmine on the back. "I learned from the best." He said, sweetly.

Carmine grabbed Austin by the face with his hands and kissed both his cheeks in typical Italian fashion.

"Oh Marone! Now ain't you a sight for sore eyes." He said, eyeing you once over. "Come give me a hug, you look terrific." Carmine gestured you over with a wave of his hand adorned with rings, his gold chain bracelet rustling along his wrist.

You smiled and hugged Carmine warmly. "Thank you Carmine. Are you here alone?" You asked when you pulled away from the hug - not seeing his latest flavor of the week on his arm.

Carmine shook his head. "Nah, you know me I ain't ever alone. The young buck with little miss fire engine is in tow." He said. The young buck is a nickname he gave to Pellegrino, and little miss fire engine is in reference to Tiffany, if it wasn't obvious enough.

And as if on command, the handsome italian man with his gorgeous redheaded wife make their way over to the three of you.

"Hey, what's going on Austin? Y/N?" Happily said Green. He flashed a warm smile, his olive eyes friendly as he greeted you both with quick hugs.

Carmine laughed. "See, it's a family affair."

"It's nice to see you too, C." Said Tiffany playfully, slapping his arm.

Austin placed one of his hands behind him on the bar countertop. "You guys should get a table before they fill up."

Green raised his brow and threw his arm around Austin's shoulder. "Come join us for a bit, man. It's good to catch up with you." Green narrowed his captivating eyes on you. "Is it okay if we steal him away from you for a little while, Bambi?" He asked. Bambi was the nickname the men gave you, and it's a double meaning. Bambi is short for bambino which means baby in Italian. And Bambi is also in reference to the film because you're as ethereal and beautiful as a doe eyed deer. The nickname coming from Pellegrino pulls at your heartstrings.

"Oh, I suppose I can find a way to live without my marito." You said in a playful longing tone. Marito is one of your many petnames for Austin, and it means husband in italian. Of course, being adopted into an Italian family you learn some choice words.

Austin winked at you and pressed his soft lips to yours in a simple but tender brush of his mouth. "I'll be right back, babygirl." He said in a sultry low tone.

You shivered at his baritone and nodded, chewing on your bottom lip as you drank in the lingering taste of whiskey from the kiss he left behind.

In a flash, the three men waltzed their way to a smokey corner of the club. Tiffany stayed behind with you.

"I'll keep you company, honey. Besides, I wanna dance. Let's boogie." She said perky as ever. And how could you not oblige your best friend? You linked arms with the fair redhead, making your way to the dance floor.

As time passes on, Austin is still lounging at a round table with Carmine and Pellegrino. They nurse their drinks and smoke cigarettes, catching up on their day.

You and Tiffany have barely left the dance floor. With your experience as Club Owner, you've noticed that it helps to bring customers back to Tease when they see you so eager to dance alongside everybody else. And you're not gonna pass up an opportunity to have a good time. The music makes you sway to the funky rhythms. The skirt of your dress twirls around you as you and Tiff join hands in sliding on the dance floor.

You were so caught up in the moment of the dance with your friend that you barely noticed a familiar man making his way to you slyly from the corner of your eye. Out of your peripheral you caught him. One of the oggling Italian men from the table you had greeted earlier was bold enough to slither his way to your side. He paid no attention to Tiffany, making his beeline straight towards you. The man was alone, so you thought perhaps this situation could turn out okay given that the right steps are taken.

You tried your best to not look over at him, hoping he would get the hint and go away. Unfortunately, he wasn't gonna care if you took notice of him or not. He was gonna make himself known regardless.

A gross, creepy smirk plays at his thin lips. You can smell the stench of his cuban cigar and bourbon overwhelm your senses, making your stomach churn.

"Care to dance, bella mia?" He asked, sounding heavily intoxicated. His slurred words fumble out of him, but even in his drunken state he attempts to exert dominance over the situation. His beady eyes scan the curves of your body and you wanna crawl out of your skin at the thought of the nasty things he's probably thinking about you right now.

Tiffany eyes him cautiously and then looks over at you to gauge your reaction. You clear your throat and briefly make eye contact with him. "No thank you. The only man I dance with is my husband." You assert strongly. Hoping that was enough to get the drunk wise guy off your case.

He doesn't take to kindly to that. He cockily raises his thick black brows. "Come on, sugar. We both know that Blondie doesn't satisfy you. You need a man like me to show you what's what." He says, stifling back a hiccup.

"You've got some nerve saying that to me when you know exactly who my husband is." You say, letting go of Tiff's grip and crossing your arms over your chest. The v-neck cut of your dress shows off your round breasts, and unfortunately you regret crossing your arms now because the weirdo makes no attempt to hide the fact he's staring right down your cleavage. You not only feel dirty, but revolted.

The Italian man doesn't back down. In a loud manner he raises his voice and flails his hands around as he talks for emphasis, and he takes a step forward to get closer to you. "I know exactly who your husband is, and frankly I don't give a fuck about them pansy-ass Tenaglia's. People know me 'round these parts. I could snap my fingers and your husband would be an obituary in Sunday's papers. What I want, I get. Now, lemme ask you again. And this time, be smart with your answer. Would you care to dance with me?" He bites back, not leaving any room for interpretation of his words.

He's making such a scene that the dancers around you all are eyeing the both of you with a concerned look on their faces, and some of them stop dancing entirely to watch the scene unfold, not knowing what to do.

"Not a chance in hell, you don't scare me." You retort. While you are visibly shaking, you don't want to give the guy the satisfaction of knowing you are intimidated. He'd be a first class fool to make even more of a scene with half of the Tenaglia crew waiting in the wings. He's so drunk that you don't even take his threats seriously.

The Italian man simply stands there, hands ball up into tight fists. He dryly chuckles, and purses his lips. "Wrong answer, sweetheart."

Sensing trouble afoot and seeing that this guy isn't leaving, Tiffany chimes in and comes to your aid. "Listen here, you take one more step and I'll yank those hair plugs right off your head. My husband is also a Tenaglia and he'll beat the shit out of you." The redhead says with as much sass and fervor as she can muster. She's not one to always get into confrontations, but for you and her family she'll cuss out whoever she needs to.

The man places one of his heeled boots in front of the other, daring to go against Tiffany's warning. "You broads think you're tough shit, huh?" He exclaims, his voice raising an octave with his anger. "Seems like ain't nobody put you bitches in your place. Well, you're about to get a firm lesson with the back of my hand." He says, raising his right hand adorned with chunky gold rings.

Suddenly it's all happening so fast you can barely process what's happening. Tiffany pushes you back and attempts to step into the line of fire, bringing her arms up to deflect the man's hand in time. But you two don't have to worry about a thing. What you didn't know was that the Tenaglia's caught the tail end of the situation. It was hard not to when the man was making such a ruckus on the dancefloor. This idiot dared to show disrespect to Tiffany and to you, which cuts through even deeper because this is your club. Pellegrino and Austin watched on for a minute with furious anger as the man was making idle threats to the family and imposing himself onto their wives. Like hell they were gonna stand there and not do something about it. The men down their drinks and make their dissent, on a one-way mission to teach this guy a lesson.

Carmine, Pellegrino, and Austin march their way over to the dance floor and push through the bewildered crowd of dancers. Austin is fuming, and he looks like he's about to go into a blind rage. He walks with determination, fists wound tightly by his sides. He's seeing red.

"Back away from my wife, you motherfucker." Austin bellowed. He grabbed hold of the man's shoulder and spun him around so he was face to face with the scumbag. Austin's right fist swung hard and fast, connecting into the italian man's face, making him see stars.

Both you and Tiffany stood back, mouths agape and looking on with shock. You can't believe the situation took a turn for the worse. Pellegrino steps to the side and ushers you and Tiff away from the violence on the floor. Meanwhile, Carmine and Austin were ontop of the man as fast as lightening. There's no chance they're letting this guy get away unpunished. They were gonna use him as an example to every other wise guy in the club that if you act like vermin you're gonna get treated as such. Austin landed another devastating punch to his face, and Carmine wrapped his arms around him in a bind to stifle the man from fighting back.

"Get this fucking guy out of here." Austin huffed. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to regain his composure. "Bring him out back." He commanded. Carmine nodded and grabbed the man by the scruff of his neck, heading towards the back exit of the club. Pellegrino was hot on the heels of Carmine, grabbing one of the arms of the beaten man and holding him in a vice grip.

People weren't sure if they should continue dancing or if they should head out early. But the DJ clicked on the intercom, making an announcement to assure people everything was fine and to resume dancing as normal. So the disco music never ceased to play loudly over the speakers, as if nothing had happened. It's a surreal combination to experience the cheery, jazzy beats swelling in your ears coupled with the the intense emotions on the dancefloor.

Before Austin followed Carmine and Pellegrino outside, he shot a quick glance in your direction, checking in on you. His baby blues were stormy with anger. He softened a little bit seeing your face and scared eyes, but he knew this was all in an effort to protect you. So he soldiered on.

The backdoor sprang open, the blinding light from the outside world is a jarring juxtaposition from the dark atmosphere inside the club. Carmine threw the italian man down onto the ground without a care, pushing him outside. He stumbled and spit blood out onto the cobblestones below him.

Pellegrino followed after Carmine, grabbing onto the shirt collar of the man on the ground and forcing him to his feet. "Get the fuck up." He was just as upset this slimy guy disrespected Tiffany, and he was gonna get in a good swing when he could - he'd patiently wait his turn. Right now, Austin was intent on fucking this guy up.

Austin was the last one out, and he slammed the door behind him with a loud thud. Carmine and Green held onto either arm of the scared italian man, pinning him to the brick wall opposite the club. He was no match for the strong Tenaglia's.

Austin, with a sneer on his face, rolled up his shirt sleeves. "You think you're some fucking tough guy. Coming into my club, drinking my liquor, and making a pass on my wife. And after I welcomed you and your buddies so kindly. You must be a real chump." He said haughtily.

The italian man slurred his speech even more, the blood dribbling out of his mouth. He shot daggers into Austin. "I guess Blondie's got balls after all." He said tauntingly, getting in one last petty blow. Carmine and Green looked at each other and then down at the man, amazed that he actually has the gall to talk back in the predicament he finds himself in. Those would be his final words. He was digging himself an early grave.

Austin rolled his head around his neck, the cracks vibrating off of the brick, and he rounded his shoulders back. Not wasting any more precious time, Austin landed punch after punch on the man's face. Blood was flying every which way. His blonde waves unkempt and fell over the slope of his forehead as he brought his fists back and smashed into the scumbag's face - it was crumpling beneath his hand like an overly ripe tomato. The man wailed as he had to stand there and take the blows. Meanwhile, Austin was grunting like wild animal, his knuckles getting swollen by the second. He was determined and couldn't think straight. All his years of studying the art of boxing has finally come in handy. And by God he was gonna fling all of his might and fury into this lowlife's face.

Carmine and Pellegrino kept holding firm onto the man, wincing slightly as to not get too close to Austin's blows. After what seemed like eternity, Austin landed one last punch square in the mouth and backed away heaving ragged breaths, gulping down fresh air into his lungs. He pointed his index finger right into the man's bruised and bloodied face. "I swear to God, if you even so much as look at my wife again i'll rip your eyes out of their sockets." He spit out aggressively.

Carmine laughed and looked over the victim. "Nice work, Butler. I think the asshole learned his lesson. Never fuck with the Tenaglia's." He smiled devilishly.

Austin put his hands over his hips and nodded at the men. Carmine and Green took the blonde's non verbal queue and released their grip on the bloody pulp of a man, who immediately fell into a heap on the cold alley floor with a groan. Carmine spit down towards the man on the ground, and walked over to Austin cool as a cucumber.

Pellegrino however was not about to walk away without landing one blow for his own pride. He crouched down and landed a punch so hard he knocked a few teeth from the beaten up Italian man's mouth. "That was for my wife, you rat." He said with sour resentment.

Carmine walked over to Green and placed his hands over his shoulders. "Come on fratellino, don't get your nice suit all dirty with this fucko's blood. The stains are a bitch to get out." He says, trying to cut through the seriousness with a morbid joke. Green huffed and nodded, walking back into the club and disappearing from the scene of the crime - he fears if he stays for a second longer he'll lose his composure even more. He had done his part, nothing more was needed. Carmine brushed the dirt off his shoulders and he too stepped back into the club. And now there were two.

Austin stared down at the pathetic man below him, feeling empowered. It felt damn good to deliver swift justice on behalf of his wife. And he hoped this beating taught the man a powerful lesson. Respect means just as much to any Italian clan as loyalty. Without respect, you might as well be considered dead. He knew as soon as he gawked openly at his wife at the table that Austin was gonna have his hands full. He never thought however that it would take a turn like this, and so swiftly. But he would do it again all the same knowing that he protected you.

With one final passing glance at the man on the floor, Austin turned around and opened the exit door, walking back into the club.

Everyone seemingly enough forgot about the altercation that just took place. The music kept blaring and the drinks kept pouring. But you were still on the sidelines of the dancefloor. And one by one you saw the Tenaglia brothers walk back inside. Carmine tapped Green on the shoulder, whispering something into his ear, and Green nodded. Carmine walked off towards the front door of the club while Green headed back over to the men's table.

You were looking for Austin when finally you saw him rush back into the club, looking disheveled. You can feel his anger from a mile away. He made a beeline for the men's bathroom, with both hands he pushed the door open forcefully, disappearing inside.

While against your better judgement to follow your husband into the men's bathroom, you wanted to make sure he was okay. No one had exited the bathroom, so you assume that he's alone in there. Thinking that it was safe to make a move, you start to make your way over to the bathroom, and timidly open the door.

"Austin?" Your angelic voice calls out to him sweetly as you peek open the door, not wanting to barge right in. You can't see a lot from your vantage point except for the running water in one of the porcelain sinks as Austin stands over it.

"Come in and close the door, honey." Austin said as his voice waivers, still riled up from the events that just transpired.

You immediately shuffle in and close the door behind you, turning the lock so that no one would try to interrupt and see the mess. You're in shock when you see Austin standing over the bathroom sink, the water turning a shade of pink as he washed the copious amount of blood off of hands. You've never seen Austin like this before. He was amazing at using his words to win in a fight if need be, but he never resorted to physical violence. This was a new hat that Austin was wearing at at first you aren't sure what to make of it.

Austin sensed your nervousness as you just stood by the door fiddling with your hands, not venturing inside. He turned his head over to you, capturing your eyes in a searing look. The disgust was still prevalent as it rolled off him in droves, but he started to melt seeing his beautiful wife look so innocent, unaware that he just beat a man within an inch of his life just a minute ago. And it was all because of her.

The corners of his lips curled up slightly in a soft smile. "Don't worry baby, this isn't my blood." He said, trying to pacify the situation and put you at ease. As if knowing it was someone else's blood makes it any better.

"Are you okay?" You ask shyly.

Austin nodded. "I'm maybe a little shaken up, but i'm fine. it's you that i'm concerned about." He says, getting back to washing his hands in the sink with some soap.

Your high heels click against the white linoleum tiles as you make your way over to Austin's side. You place one of your hands lovingly on his shoulder. He feels tense under your hand at first, but once he feels the warmth of you he starts to relax.

You look into the sink and see Austin's hands up close. His knuckles are red and swollen, they must really hurt. You can only imagine what the other guy looks like right now if Austin came back with these battle scars. You shiver uncomfortably at the thought. You'd rather not know.

You move to stand behind Austin, and your arms wrap around his waist, bringing his body into your soft curves. He brings his head back up to look at you through the bathroom mirror. Even in your high heels you were still considerably shorter than he was.

He sighed deeply, turning the faucet off and letting one of his battered hands rest on the ledge of the countertop, while the other one placed tenderly over your hands around his front.

"I've never seen you like that before. It's like you had a fire behind your eyes that couldn't be extinguished. When I saw you walking out back I thought you were gonna kill him." You said, muffled into his shoulder blade.

He looked at you through the mirror with weary eyes. "I almost did, but not on purpose. The bastard had it coming. No one ever dares to lay a hand on you. If they're stupid enough they can try but I'm always gonna be there to protect you. You're my wife, my most cherished earthly possession." He paused briefly to turn around in your arms and he brought his hands up to show you the damage. The water trickled down his long fingers mixing with the residual blood on his knuckles. Your brow furrowed with worry seeing just how scarred his beautiful hands were. "And this is what happens when someone tries to tarnish my treasure." He said matter of factly.

You sighed, your hands carefully cradling his and inspecting them further. You bring the back of his right hand to your lips and press a featherlight kiss to his skin, staring up at his ocean eyes.

Austin winced a little bit, but the brief glimpse of faint pain turned into pleasure as he let out a throaty whimper. You continued to place gentle, easy kisses along his rugged hands, peppering them with love as you dote on him tenderly. Your face nuzzled into the palm of his right hand, your lips brushing up against the sore pad of his thumb as you bring the digit into your wet mouth, sucking slowly.

"Babygirl." Austin sighed longingly.

You wanted nothing more than to take care of your man. He's never had the proper moment to defend your honor before tonight, and in such a violent way no less. While it scared you at first seeing Austin punch the lights out of a wise guy who definitely deserved it, and was foaming at the mouth with rage ready to rip his head off his shoulders, your body is on fire - not with anger, but with a swell of burning passion. He came to your aid and protected you. While that might frighten off any young girl who would probably pack her bags the minute their husband beat the shit out of somebody and comes back with bloody hands, you were different. This is the life you inadvertently signed up for. Plus, you're no ordinary woman. You have to admit the truth - it turned you on like no other.

And seemingly Austin felt the same way, as you could feel his growing erection pressing into your stomach the longer you smother his inflamed hands with spellbinding kisses, bringing him back down to Earth. You never thought aggression like that would make you wetter than a waterfall, but there's always a first time for everything.

You hummed around his thumb, your long lashes fluttered as you continued to stare up at your man, who was slowly coming undone Infront of you. You release his thumb from your mouth with a pop and your hands roamed over his chest. You let your fingers trace over the gold cross necklace that dangled in the tufts of blonde chest hairs. Something about this very symbol of devotion to God being worn around his neck while he was beating that horrid man out back to smithereens in your honor made the coil in your stomach wind tight and your pussy throb with desire. You needed Austin, and now.

You lock eyes with Austin's blues, heavy lidded with lust, and bite your lip. "We don't have much time before we have to head back out there and play the role of Club Owners. But you're not leaving this room until you've shot every ounce of your cum down my throat. As your wife, that's what I want."

Austin moaned at your bold, heated statement. He licked his lips and cradled your face in his hands, his thumbs stroking your cheeks. "As your husband, who am I to deny you?" He says huskily.

He crashed his lips onto yours, moaning into your mouth. Your tongues probing each others mouths, lapping back and forth for mutual dominance. His tired hands roam the expanse of your body, greedily palming the flesh of your ass, bringing you closer to his hard body. Your hands trailed down to the waistband of his slacks and hurriedly unbuttoned and unzipped them. To your surprise Austin went commando under his pants, but this allowed you for easy and quick access to the part of him you yearned for.

You let one of your small hands palm his cock, letting your fingers dance along his velvet length. He shakes in your hand, softly moaning against your parted mouth at the contact of your warm hand over his aching desire. You don't want to waste any more time, you need him right now. Going down easy, you kneel down in front of him, perched prettily on your high heels. Your hands reach up to his open pants, pulling them down Austin's long legs and letting the fabric pool at his ankles. The cool breeze hits his lower half for the first time, and his hard cock throbs in your face at the sweet release. The poor thing is already red and leaking with pre-cum. It won't take him long at all to deliver on his promise of filling your throat with his load. But you want to savor the feel of him for as long as you can. Sweetly, you place kisses all along the underside of his shaft and make your way back towards the tip. Austin blushes at you lavishing his manhood - you take such good care of him, he's in awe of the wonder of you - his darling wife. Your tongue slips past your lips and you lick the red and puffy head.

Austin tilts his head back and moans "Jesus fuck, I need your mouth on my cock so bad, baby."

His plea makes you wet, and you're gonna make sure he fully enjoys the messiest blowjob you're prepared to bestow upon him. You let a generous amount of spit gather in your mouth and you allow the drool to pour out over his cock, coating him nice and good. You wrap both hands around his engorged cock, giving him a few pumps and earning you throaty, hoarse, whiny moans from Austin above you.

Finally, your mouth parts and you take him into your mouth. You play with just the tip for now, sucking the sensitive head in your mouth and stroking his shaft. You moan around him like a good girl, making him shiver.

"Oh yeah. My girl knows how to suck me good." He moans delightfully. All the little whimpers and throaty groans he makes is like music to your ears, and you've barely gotten started. He's just as down bad for you as you are for him. Your panties collect all of the spilled nectar from your pussy, and you wish he could sample how good you taste. But there's plenty of time for that later. Right now, Austin's pleasure is all you care about.

Slowly, you start to sink your mouth down around his cock, taking him further into your mouth. You place both of your hands on the backs of his thick thighs, stroking him lovingly as you set to getting to work. You create a strong vacuum seal with your mouth, wrapping tightly around his throbbing cock and begin to bob your head up and down along his length. It's beyond messy, and drool is falling out the corners of your mouth, making his cock slippery as he slides deliciously along your wet tongue. Droplets of your saliva fall to the floor Infront of you. He grows heavy and harder by the second, making you work your little mouth off to satisfy every single glorious inch of your husband's heavenly made cock.

He knits his brows together, his eyes heavy and glazed over in pure ecstasy at the sight of his wife on her knees sucking him off while there's a packed room full of patrons right outside the door. He hoped the music was loud enough to disguise his obvious moans.

"Fuck. Just like that, baby. Your mouth is incredible." Austin groans desperately.

You gurgle around his cock as you pick up the pace just a little, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You relax your jaw to accommodate his impressive size. Somehow he's even bigger today. Perhaps all the adrenaline from a few moments ago is rushing straight to his cock. He's a needy and whimpering mess up above you. His hands card through your soft silky hair, holding on for dear life as he brings you further along his cock. He's lost in the feeling of your warm, sloppy mouth milking his shaft - somehow, even though you've been married for some time, you make every sexual experience with Austin feel like the first time all over again. He doesn't know what the hell he did to deserve you. Never has a woman gotten down on her knees for him and sucked the soul straight through his cock, determined to make him see stars. At this point he doesn't give a fuck who he has to beat up if it's all in the name of protecting you, and getting his dick wet in you after.

You moan around him, never letting up on the rumbling vibration from your mouth penetrate straight through his cock and through to his aching balls, which are desperate to unleash their load.

His body starts to shake, you know he's close. His plush lips form an O shape as he lets out a raspy, deep moan. "I-I'm gonna cum."

In one last final move to put him over the edge, you bring one of your hands back to his base, and your mouth sloppily sucks off his engorged tip once more. You know this is his finishing move. His head is so sensitive and you know he can come in record time with this combo of jerking him off and blowing his puffy tip. You make obscene sloshing noises around his cock, the sound of his wet skin in your hand echoes off of the bathroom tiles. If anybody were to walk past the bathroom right now they'd think a porno was being filmed in here. Your hand milks his shaft while your mouth works his throbbing tip.

Austin lets his head fall back. "Oh god yes, i'm cuming." He groans in a needy high pitch for his baritone. "Take my load down your throat. Take all of me." He moans thickly and dark.

And you do, happily. His hips stutter as he heaves ragged breaths, his salty cum gushing into your mouth. You sputter around his cock as you swallow every last drop of your husband's cum. You moan once more around him before pulling back, ensuring you devoured every morsel his precious seed. His cock springs free from your mouth and nearly slaps you in the face as the wave of his orgasm courses through his body. You lick your lips of the remnants of his cum on your mouth.

Austin's hands reach down to grasp your forearms, helping you up onto your feet. You wobble a little, and you'd be lying if you said your feet weren't killing you from crouching on the balls of your heeled feet for the duration of your sloppy blowjob. But it was worth it to see the warm, sultry look over Austin's face. He was love drunk on you.

He tucked himself back into his pants and fumbled to button and zip up his trousers, but he managed to do it. He smiles and brings you in to his lips for a passionate kiss, not caring if he can taste himself on your tongue.

You're about to step to the side of him, making your move to unlock the bathroom door as your mission to seduce your husband was a success, but he stops you. He takes you in his arms and pins you up against the edge of the sink. You gasp when he bends down and his hands grip the backs of your thighs. With a grunt, he places you up onto the counter, and settles in-between your parted legs.

"Let's see how fast I can make you cum." Austin says seductively with a devilish twinkle in his eyes. This was certainly not what you were expecting, but you're not complaining.

You don't even have time to respond before Austin spits on two of his long fingers, and with the other one he shifts your soaked panties to the side. He's not surprised when his fingers make contact with your dripping folds that you were soaking wet. You whimper at his fingers dipping in deep into your sweet cunt. Your juices coat his swollen, rough fingers, your pussy lips drawing him in as far as he can go. And without a moment to lose, his fingers disappear into your heat.

"Austin!" You moan loudly as you feel his fingers enter you and brush against your g-spot. Oh, he's in deep. He's so deep in fact that you feel full of him instantly. Austin is buried knuckles deep in your sopping cunt. Your hands grip onto his broad shoulders for support.

"Mm. Always so wet and tight for me at a moments notice. My perfect wife." He moans sexily.

He doesn't take his time, he meant what he said by how quickly he can make you cum. He's set for the task at hand. And he's willing to bet it will only take you a minute with his skilled fingers, perfectly in sync with your body, knowing exactly what you need to set you over the edge.

Keeping his fingers the deepest they can possibly go inside you, he begins to finger fuck you hard and fast. Your slick sputters around his fingers and gush out around him. It sounds so fucking wet.

"Oh god, yes!" You squeal. He knows exactly how and where to press all your buttons to make you squirm in the best way possible. And right now he's blasting your cunt so good you can't even think straight.

You let your head fall back and the breathy whines escape your mouth. Austin groans at the sound of your juicy pussy sloshing your slick around his fingers. The obscene thought that these same fingers were soaked in that man's blood crossed your mind. But the violence Austin's hands endured only moments ago is replaced with primal pleasure, and his girl's heavenly nectar washing away the blood stains.

Austin clenches his jaw and grits his teeth. His hand is worse for wear and it's not helping matters that he's pounding into your soft heat with his beaten up hand, but there was no way he was letting his girl walk out of here without being treated to a good fuck.

"Fuck! You're so good." You moan. Austin is unrelenting on his brutal pace. He's not letting his fingers slip too far out of you either. He's keeping them cemented deep down inside your pussy, his fingers brushing up against your g-spot and bruising your cervix with every thrust. The open palm of his hand barely grazes your clit, and your walls clamp down hard around his fingers, causing him to bite his lip and moan. He brings his other hand around your front and brushes your clit in determined circles. "Oh my god, Aus!" You whine. You feel his biceps flex hard underneath your hands as he expertly churns the coil down at the vast depths of your dripping wet pussy. It's getting him hard all over again.

Austin's lip twitches into a coy side smirk. His dimples making an appearance. "You like this, baby? You like knowing these fingers stuffed full in your pussy were defending your honor? Hear how wet you are for me, darlin. All your heavenly juices are mine. I wanna fuckin' drown in it. Make a mess of me." Austin moaned, never daring to look away from your eyes that were welling up with tears of pure bliss.

Your body trembled as you felt yourself getting closer to your climax. You allowed yourself to moan to the high heavens, not caring how loud you were being. In fact, you wanted everyone to know that Austin Butler was bringing you to your wettest orgasm you've ever had.

"This pussy is yours baby. Take all of it! Oh F-Fuck, im gonna cum!" You squeal, your walls fluttering around his fingers.

Austin groaned. "That's it, my love. Give it to me." He said, huskily.

With a few final, brutal thrusts of his fingers, your pussy spasmed hard around him, groaning loudly and shouting Austin's name. Sweat drips down Austin's forehead, his blonde waves tousled out of place looking unkempt yet effortlessly sexy. Your body collapses in a heap on the bathroom counter, and Austin braces you with one hand. He keeps himself inside you for a little longer as you ride your orgasm to completion. When he thinks you've crash-landed, he pulls his fingers soaked through to the bone with your cum out of your swollen pussy. Austin bit his lip and admired how his bruised knuckled glistened with your arousal. He brought them into his mouth and sucked them clean, moaning in delight at the delicious flavor of you.

"Holy shit, Austin." You breathed heavily, laughing a little.

"I think that was record time." He said, giggling cutely.

You smiled and pulled him by the shirt collar into a soft kiss. Pulling away, you inspect his hand. "That probably didn't feel good to your hand. I'm sorry, honey." You said.

Austin blew off your apology. "Nothing to even be sorry about," He placed his hands around the small of your waist and hoisted you up, helping you back down onto the ground. "Besides, I think your pussy was the miracle elixir I needed to get my hand on the mend." He said, flashing you an adorably crooked wink at you.

You laughed, playfully slapping his chest. Austin jumped back a little and chuckled heartily.

"Just so we don't look like we spent the last 20 minutes in here fucking like rabbits, I think you should go out first and then I'll follow you shortly." You said smiling, still regaining your composure. You know you're gonna be walking funny for a few hours. Your pussy took a rigorous beating, but it's a sore feeling you wholeheartedly accept.

Austin stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets. He looks like a freshly watered pot of daisies. His angry temperament had faded away long ago. You were his cure. He nodded. "Okay, suit yourself baby. Don't wait too long though. This is the men's room after all." He laughed.

"I won't, I promise." You reassured him sweetly.

Austin winked again and puckered his lips, kissing the air in your direction before turning around. He unlocked the bathroom door and glanced back at you one last time with his beautiful eyes that were sparkling, and a cute smile on his face before he walked away. The disco lights and the blaring music from the outside world briefly showed itself. Reminding you of where you were.

You sighed and looked at yourself in the mirror. Your shaking hands smoothed over the front of your dress. You cleaned yourself up as best you good. And you attempted to fix your hair that had fallen out of place. Luckily you made sure to put a little travel size bottle of hairspray in the mens and womens bathrooms for your guests to touch up their hair after dancing, so you took the aquanet and sprayed a generous amount on your coiffure. After fluffing your hair once more, you decided enough time had passed and you were safe to exit the bathroom without no one the wiser.

Your feet were on fire, and you wanted nothing more than to get out of these heels. But you still had a few more hours of work before you and Austin could head home. You gingerly pushed the door open, and suddenly you were back into the dark world of Tease. You walked further into the club, and seemingly nobody noticed you. So your plan worked.

Your eyes scanned over every corner until you found Austin again, who was back at the bar talking with Green and Tiffany. Carmine still wasn't anywhere to be found, at least from where you were standing. You assumed maybe he left early. And while that was a little odd for a man that thrives on being out and not at home with his wife, you shrugged off the thought.

But your stomach dropped when you noticed the gang of Italian wise guys that you had greeted at the table earlier in the evening. They looked like to be in a hurry to scamper out of here. You didn't spot any sign of the sleezeball who had attempted to pimp slap you on the dancefloor though. Maybe he had gotten the obvious hint and left. The way the men were tightly grouped together and walking like they mean business made the little nagging voice in the back of your head spring to life. Something was wrong.

The men had opened the exit door where Green, Carmine, and Austin had once been earlier. Why were they sneaking out the back when they could just walk out the front door? Going against your better instincts, you decide to follow them from a considerable distance away. This was probably the worst idea, but you had a bad feeling about this, and you were gonna find out what it was to quell your nerves.

You hung back as the exit door swung open and you caught a glimpse of the men bending down to the cold alley floor and picking up mister hair plugs, who seemingly was still laying on the ground and never left his spot the entire time you and Austin had your quickie.

In the light you finally saw the damage Austin had done to the man. You gasped when you saw the black eyes, missing teeth, and blood still pouring from his mouth. You made sure to hide in the shadows so the men didn't see you from the inside. He barely resembled the man you had seen on the dancefloor.

"Jesus Christ, they somehow made you even uglier." Said one of the younger suits.

"Shut your big mouth, Tommy. Just pick him up." Barked the older Italian man you knew to definitely be the ring leader of the pack. You recognized him from earlier - he said all those nice things to you and Austin about Tease and your marriage. You hoped he was still one of the good ones out of the bunch. You couldn't account for the others.

The man on the ground moaned in pain like an injured dog. Tommy and the young fella who you vaguely recognized from the table, plus the older gentleman was flanking the beaten man. And slowly but surely, the scumbag rose to his feet. He could barely hold himself up, he was leaning on his men for help. He spit out a generous helping of blood onto the cobblestones, a trail of the viscous red fluid started to stain his suit and corn starch stiff button down shirt.

"Well, what the fuck do we do know?" Said young wise guy number 2, who's name you still hadn't figured out yet.

"We gotta get him back home, that's what the fuck we do." Retorted Tommy.

"Ey. Just zip your fuckin' pie holes all youse, and keep Michael on his feet." Says the older man. You learned another new piece of information. The man who made the bold move against you and Tiffany was named Michael. You jotted that down for safe keeping. You wish you could remember what Italian family they belong to. All you knew was the older man who was the head honcho, who's name alludes you. You have Michael the fuckwit, and Tommy the bigmouth. You also had the other young suit who looked to be Austin's age and was struggling to keep it together.

The man who you gathered now was Tommy peered out into the street, making sure the coast was clear before he waved the other men in the alley with his hand to signal it was good to move.

Before the group of men made their final dissent into the street, you heard Michael utter something that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand to attention, and send a bone chilling shiver down your spine.

"Blondie and his fucking whore wife are gonna regret this day." He said with as much bitter resentment as possible. He spit out more blood before letting his head roll in front of him. It looked like he passed out as his eyes were closed, and the no-name, scared shitless gangster was slapping his face, trying to keep him conscious.

"We'll deal with them Tenaglia motherfuckers later. Move your asses. We're good to go here." Loudly whispered Tommy. And as quickly as they came, they vanished into the hazy Brooklyn streets.

You closed the door and stood there in a stupor, trying to process what you just heard. These guys seemed like they're not to be trifled with. But you can't know for sure. You've meet half a dozen Italian mafiosos who were all bark and no bite. While you knew Michael was in no condition to do anything to enact on a revenge scheme, you weren't sure about the other men. The scaredy-cat goodfella might not be a threat, but that Tommy guy definitely had a vendetta to enact. They all seem like loose canons, and you couldn't really pin any of them down. And that terrified you. What did he mean by "dealing" with the Teneglia's later? You weren't sure. And you weren't waiting long to find out.

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[aequarea]

i have a thought about sanji that has been wandering in my head for a while and i need to vocalize in order to take control of my brain for once this year so, here it is. (even if i never made a post about op personally and i have like, 3 followers. yeah)

some time ago i was eating/spending time with my best friend (who does not watch one piece and everything she knows about it is for my ranting) and we were talking about nothings and at some point i started explaining sanji's story with zeff and she just interrupted me and said- "hey, so thats what you mean when you say cannibalism is a metaphor of love?" when i was in the whole "zeff eated his leg" part

and girl. why. why do you do that to me. WHY

CAUSE I NEVER ACTUALLY THINK ABOUT IT LIKE THAT. of course i expended some time thinking and analizing zeff sacrifice and sanji way of thinking because of that but i never, not once, remember the cannibalism metaphor thing. because i always used it to explain romantic love but wait, love can be a lot of other things too. included platonic, father figure/traumatized adopted son love.

and its always "devouring the other one" "make the other one part of you/becoming one" or "being inside of each other forever changing our insides to be remaints of the other" and things like that that makes you think of a couple thing. of something that includes two people in the act. you understand the point right?

i personally never see people wondering about the other way you can use it; as a sacrifice. consume your own flesh to avoid eating others. use yourself as a piece of meat so the other person can eat the real thing. basically using yourself to death to make others survive well. (as a side point, i think banica conchita is an excelent example for this, if you want to read/listen/watch a story about it)

and isnt that what zeff did? he was trapped in a rock without exit with a kid and enough food for one of them to survive. and they are in the middle of the sea, and everyone else died but them, so he had nowhere to find help. no one to go to. he dont even know how long they are gonna be trapped there.

and he barely know the kid. the only think they know about each other is that they are trapped together. the only thing zeff know about him is that they share the same dream. but he knows the kid is hungry, he knows there is food for only one of them, and he knows he want the kid to live.

he loves the kid already, because you need to love someone to make that kind of sacrifice for them.

and he gives the kid the food. he told him that he distribute it for them, when in reality he gave him all of it. and he is going to starve himself, but its ok, cause the kid is fine. the little bratty boy has food to survive. he can do whatever to substain himself for a while, it doesnt matter cause hes a chef and he knows what he can and cant do.

and what he can do is cut his own leg and eat it. he can eat himself, the flavour is not that bad, he can stand it for whatever time is neccesary. he can stand the pain, the agonizing suffering, the puke inducing feeling of the injury and the raw meat. only for the kid.

and im not going to expand it more cause i think the point is understandable enough now. zeff loved sanji so much even without knowing him to eat himself for him to survive in that rock. he used his own flesh as the food, to give sanji the most chances to live fine. to not traumatize him more. to not make him suffer the same pain he had. to protect him. isnt that what love is about? isnt that what cannibalism as a metaphor of love can explain?

[ghostgorlsworld]

Moondrunk Monster pt 2 (ghost x reader)

You're a retired combat medic that made a mistake, costing you your cushy office job. As punishment, you're sent to an active war zone, where you meet the 141, a squad of werewolves that slowly accept you as their own. (I know, I know I'm bad at summarizing)

this fic has me writing five thousand words in one (1) day, I am obsessed. you can find pt 1 here

Warnings: um violence. Ghost being a weirdo.

Part 2

After that day, things changed for you.

Gaz was healed within a day, coming to visit you with a Snickers bar as thanks. “I’ve been saving it for an occasion,” he said. “Wolves…well, we can’t really have chocolate without quite a bit of pain so I thought I would give it to you instead. As thanks.” 

“All I did was my job, Gaz,” you said, patting his shoulder in a motherly fashion.“There’s no need to thank me.”

Gaz raised a brow. “The other medics would have let me bleed out, doc, I’m here because of you.” You accepted the Snickers and his thanks, thinking that would be the end of it. But 141 seemed to think you were apart of their squad now, clustering around you at the lunch table like so many guard dogs, following you out into the thick of the desert whenever you and the other medics had to pick up supplies from the routine airdrops, holding down flailing patients for you while you sewed up gashes and cauterized missing limbs.

Captain Graves called it pack bonding. It was common with their kind, and partially the reason why the military liked wolves in their ranks. 

You appreciated it in your own way. Soldiers respected you a little more now, the fearless medic that gave her own blood to a wolf. 

Lunch today was a mess of shepherd's pie and a tin of pineapples–not bad considering the beans and sausage of yesterday. You sat at the nearest empty table, uncapping a bottle of water.

Within a minute Soap was tumbling into the spot in front of you, a plate of raw meat in his hand. Wolves couldn’t survive on human food alone, so the military made special adjustments.

The adjustments were freezing slabs of raw beef and plating it up still half-frozen. Even supersoldiers didn’t get special treatment.

“Hey, lass,” Soap said, nudging your foot with his own. “Mind passing me a bottle?” You nodded, reaching behind you for the cases of water while the rest of 141 took a seat, Ghost uncomfortably close on your left. He was odd like that, not seeming to mind human customs like personal space like the others did.

“You never said where you were from, lass,” Soap said, the beginner of conversation as always. He looked at you, blue eyes twinkling. “Bet I could guess.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s not a hard one.” “Texas.”

“Not everyone in America lives in Texas, Soap.”

“Florida.”

“Not Florida either.”

“Fine, what is it?” Soap took a bite of flank steak, the noise making you shudder. 

Ghost turned to make quiet conversation with Price, his thick thigh pressing into yours. 

You smiled. “A small town in Oklahoma.” “Bloody hell, that’s just Texas.” “Those are fightin’ words where I’m from,” you said, pointing your fork at him. “You’re lucky I’m too hungry to care.”

Soap barked a laugh. “Oh please, you look like you’ve never been in a fight in your life, bonnie.”

“You know, I was a combat medic back in the day–a proper one,” you said dryly, taking a bite of pie. “I was in the Berlin Incident of 2013, and there were plenty of body parts and wolves flying around in that one.”

The table stilled, eyes going to you. The Berlin Incident was an infamous bloodbath–you still have nightmares about it. 

Price blew a breath, looking thoughtful. “That was…you couldn’t have been more than, what, eighteen?” “Nineteen. I wasn’t even supposed to be there, but…” you shrugged. “Orders are orders, right?”

“Why’d you stop doing it then?” Soap asked, a man that has never shied away from uncomfortable questions. “You must’ve been experienced by the time you could order a beer at a bar.”

Ghost was stiff beside you, watching you eat. Humans would look away, but he never does.

They were memories from a different life. The days of crouching under gunfire with a fistfuls of gauze and adrenaline only resurfaced in dreams. “How honest do you want me to be?” You asked wryly. It wasn’t a memory you liked to remember, especially not surrounded by wolves.

“As honest as you want to.” Soap ripped off another bite, the sound eerily reminiscent of teeth crunching on bone.

“I was mauled.” You peel back part of your shirt, showing the heavy scarring on your collar. “It wasn’t his fault, really, I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. It took a year for me to be back on my feet and by then…I was ready for some peace and quiet.”

It was a year of physical therapy and healing, struggling against the infections that come with a wolf bite. 

Soap stared, unabashed, until you tucked the scars away. He was silent for a long moment, tapping his fork against the table. “You saved my life after one of us did that to you?” Gaz said, cocking a brow. “You must be forgiving.” Ghost shifted, his hand coming up to grip the collar of your shirt. He pulled it down slightly, just barely showing the tip of the scarring.

And you let him, because…well, you don’t know why you let him. 

He was wearing gloves, as always, but they were warm when he pressed them against the scars, fitting his fingers into the obvious claw marks.

The 141 was silent, watching Ghost with a mixture of surprise and horror. Price looked as if he were about to intervene, his knuckles white around his fork.

You wondered what exactly Ghost’s file looks like, how many cases of human aggression to make his squad this antsy. 

“Why didn’t it kill you?” Ghost asked, the first words he had said to you that day. 

Christ, they never pull their punches do they? “He stopped,” you said blandly, your breath catching at the feeling of fingers pressing into your skin. “Like I said, it wasn’t on purpose. Once he realized what he did, he carried me to the nearest medic.” 

Ironically, the two of you were still friends to this day. He liked to send you a funeral arrangement and a birthday card every year, writing glad you’re still alive, doc under the Happy Birthday.

Donny always had an odd sense of humor.

It helped that he wasn’t wearing his human face when he did it, it helped you separate the man from the wolf whenever you thought about that terrifying thirty seconds of blood and teeth–bones crunching, skin tearing, muscle turned to crimson thread. 

Ghost tugged your shirt collar back into place, oddly gentle. “You’re tougher than you look, love,” he said, turning back to his food with an air of finality. 

“Thank you, sir,” you said, like a good soldier. 

It felt like approval. You hated that you liked it.

There were times when you couldn’t sleep, so you would sit beside the lip of your tent with a lamp and a book as your patients of the night slept peacefully, some aided by morphine. 

The 141 tent was empty, its inhabitants deep in the desert on Graves’ whim. You worried about them, in your own way, thinking about what would have happened if they hadn’t gotten Gaz to you in time. 

They were still strangers to you, but the base felt too quiet without them, and your skin felt bare without Ghost’s stare upon it.

That was becoming a problem. He watched you constantly since that day in the mess hall, watching you work, eat, speak, uncanny in his faded mask. 

If he were a man, you would think he was into you. You’re a medic, you’ve had several star-eyed soldiers follow you around like ducklings after you dug a bullet out of them, but never like this. Never a wolf. 

You didn’t know what to think. 

When you asked Soap about it, he shrugged and said, “Lass, Ghost is as strange as they come. Someone messed about with his brain a couple years ago, a nasty bit of torture, he hasn’t been right ever since.”

“Should I be concerned?” You asked, feeling sympathy unfurl the knot in your gut. Neurological problems made sense, explaining the staring issue and the lack of social awareness.

Soap shook his head. “He’s not the type to hurt women, doc, human or otherwise. He may seem a little rough around the edges but I’ve known him for a long time–he’s one of my best mates.” That wasn’t saying much. As much as you liked him, Soap didn’t have many rules in the ways of morality, he liked war because he liked killing, he liked being able to chase and hunt with the legal license permitting him to do so.

You talk to Ghost sometimes, when he decides to bring a cup of tea over when the both of you can’t sleep. You didn’t bother to tell him that you don’t like tea, because it seems rude and maybe it would stop him coming to see you completely, so you drained the cup and told yourself you’ve developed a taste for it.

Generally, he listened as you spoke. He was a good listener, paying attention as you talked about home–how it snowed sometimes, during the winter. How hot the summers would get, heat coming off the cornfields in a red haze.

Your family, that you saw three times a year, two weeks each time if you could swing it. 

You didn’t know why you told him these things, something about the way he paid attention to you made you feel like you had to fill up the silence, otherwise he might swallow you whole.

Could wolves even be attracted to human women? 

You knew that you were strangely attracted to him, to his height, his eyes, the gruff rumble of his voice, the way he commanded fear and respect. But was his…fascination attraction or something else?

You’ve heard of wolves that like to eat their prey. You don’t like to believe rumors or myths but Ghost makes you believe them, a little bit.

You shifted to another side of your hip, adjusting the book in your lap. The night was cool and quiet, the moon above only a few days before being full.

A full moon always meant trouble, with or without wolves.

It didn’t affect them like in the stories of moon-crazed madness. It was more like a calling, an urge to be bare-skinned and free under the moon. Danny used to say it was like being high, all he wanted to do was dance and eat and fuck.

You imagined Ghost, in his massive, graceful body dancing, and smiled to yourself.

You reached into your pocket for a package of powdered donuts, another gift from a grateful patient. She had gotten her leg blasted with an explosive, and you had just barely managed to salvage it, though she had a long road to follow before she would be able to walk again.

Maybe they weren’t healthy, but they were sweet and soft and reminded you of the days that you would sit in a boat with your grandfather, chicken liver hooked to your fishing pole as you waited for the catfish to bite. You were so young then, powdered sugar on your fingers as you begged your grandfather to let you try a sip of his coffee.

You were on your third one when 141 came home, slipping from the guarded gates to return to their tent for showers and a meal. You waved, smiling at Price when he nodded to you.

Soap broke off from the pack to ruffle your hair with his dirty hands, accepting a donut when you offered one. “You always have the best snacks, bonnie,” he said, winking as he slunk away to shower.

Ghost followed soon enough, approaching warily like a feral cat. You smiled at him too, offering him the last donut of the pack. “You’re back, sir.”

He nodded, taking the donut and staring at it as if he was unsure what to do with it. 

“I’ll look away,” you said, turning your face to the courtyard. You figured the mask had something to do with the torture Soap mentioned, either scarring or trauma–though most of the time they were one and the same. 

You heard him sigh, then a rustle of fabric as he pulled up the mask and took a bite. You hide a smile. “It’s good, yeah? Processed American bullshit, sir.”

Ghost hummed, then came the unmistakable sound of licking the sugar off his fingers. There had also been blood on his fingertips, from the night’s previous activities.

You don’t want to think about why that makes your belly clench. 

“Couldn’t sleep, love?” He asked, mask safely back over his mouth. He tilted his head, unintentionally predatory.

You shook your head, your hand coming up to rub at your shoulder. It aches on cold nights, bleeding memories of teeth scraping against bones. “No, it’s just…old wounds, I guess.”

Ghost shoved his hand into his pocket, drawing something out carefully. It was a notebook, clean of gore and muck, a small blue pen stuck into the spiral binding. 

He offered it to you and you took it, because somehow you could never refuse him. 

“Saw you scribbling on napkins,” Ghost said, jerking his head to the mess on your desk. “Thought this would do a better job.” Unexpectedly, you’re delighted. You had been looking for a notepad, having not had enough time to pack yours back at your previous base. You liked to sketch, to draw the people and places around you–it made things seem realer, less like a dream.

“Thank you, sir,” you said, smiling and flipping it open. The pages are bare. “I’ve been looking for one.”

“You’re welcome, love.” “That reminds me, sir, I’ve got a joke for you.”

“And what’s that?”

“What do you call an Australian visiting England on vacation?” You can almost imagine him cocking a brow, his silence expectant.

“Returning to the scene of the crime,” You laughed at your own joke, unable to help yourself. Soap had helped you come up with that one. 

Ghost’s eyes are creased behind the pale, cracked skull of his mask. You think he might be smiling. “Christ, pet, that was awful.” You tucked the notebook to your chest. “Had to repay you in some way, sir. Feel free to use it in the future.” “Negative, love.” Ghost turned to disappear into his tent, unstrapping the heavy duty vest over his chest. You laughed again, picking yourself off the ground with a little less weight on your chest. 

[gremlingottoosilly]

What happened to weird octo human baby hybrid?

It's somewhere! Hybrid babies are still more independent than actual human babies and only need their mommies for half a year or so, before finally growing up enough to start eating meat as normal monsters do. Of course, it being weaker, you would have to ask Konig for help to get him the meat he needs, and your monster husband is so mean about it( you have to be on your best behavior if you want your baby to survive, Konig now just gained a perfect opportunity to manipulate and use you. You would do anything if it means helping weird octo baby hybrid(( Once it outgrows its cute stage and starts to actually gain strength, you can count on Konig isolating you from it as much as possible. You wouldn't dare to question this, but he is...scared, really. Monster babies are wild and hungry all of the time, you can get hurt while trying to play mommy with your son, so your husband has to step up and only allow you to hang out with octo baby when its sated and chill. You don't understand before your son started biting you with the hungry desire to devour your fingers, so you started to cling onto Konig( you're just so confused and sad, why would your baby behave like this after you've done so so so much to let him live happily... Konig had to give you another clutch of eggs after that, so your weird depressed state could be calmed down a little bit with the hormones and you'd start worrying about monster babies again, not some half-breed brat that Konig has to whip into shape(

[kit-williams]

Barn Anon. Just this little one because I’m hungry and I smell food. Should I also hold off on sending any more for now?

Anytime you cook bacon in particular, it instantly becomes food thievery O’clock for Gabriel. Other food tend to take longer to rouse the deceptively adorable food thief. You had tried using a squirt bottle to deter him but unsurprisingly getting his shirt drenched has no effect on the massive Blood Angel.

Using pepper spray is much more effective according to some of the other Blood Angels you’ve spoken to. But can you really bring yourself to pepper spray your very oversized golden retriever of a Space Marine? You’re currently using whatever you have on hand to simply smack his hands away. Of course you know that he’s more than capable of dodging every smack. You get the feeling that every hit you land is more like an older sibling throwing a game to let their younger sibling win.

Well, nothing to be helped there. You look at your freshly made omelet and look over at Gabriel’s own omelet that’s buried under a layer of bacon.

“It must be nice taking all the bacon huh Gaby?”

Gabriel could survive off the nutrient paste that they could make easily back at base and the donated blood too... but somehow food that his bonded made tasted so much better! He cared little for food in all honesty it was just calories and nutrients only when it called to rub shoulders with elite would he allow himself to taste but it wasn't needed.

Food here popped and tasted. His favorite was beef... happy cow blood also was another thing that the chapter would use to help stave off the red thirst was animal blood but they were picky about it. Gabriel liked happy cows... distressed cows he could taste in the meat and the blood.

Gabriel looked at you as your arms were folded... and he gave back half of the bacon. It felt odd with their not being an overabundance of food it caused the chapters having to rely on making food synthesizers and paste makers or whatever else the techmarines and forge masters knew how to make. Self reliance was not something that they were strangers of.

He smiled as you smiled back and cooed your own thanks to him before digging into your breakfast. He did his small prayer to the Emperor and to Sanguinius thanking them for another day of life and well a small addition to him having his bonded.

Tag list sorry i forgot again: @egrets-not-regrets @liar-anubiass-blog @barn-anon @bleedingichorhearts

[childotkw]

Ahhh! I'm absolutely in love with your Lucemond fic snippets. The idea of Lucerys bonding with the Cannibal over their shared consumption of dragon flesh is just so *chef's kiss*. Also that line about Lucerys thinking about the way Arrax was still looking out for him even in death. My poor heart. I've seen a few people mention Lucerys surviving and bonding with him, but no one talked about how such a thing could come to pass when the dragon has a history of killing any who try to fly him.

A part of me can't help but think about the utterly dark and unhinged potential of their bond. Perhaps there is no real love and gentle affection between them, not like Lucerys' bond with Arrax, but they have a shared experience and an understanding of doing whatever it takes to survive. The Cannibal is always hungry for the flesh of his kin, and he can sense that same sort of hunger in his newly bonded. It resonates between them. It makes the ancient beast want to nuture that hunger, ensure that his feral little rider survives and grows stronger. The old dragon feeds Lucerys' need for revenge, and the human helps feed the beast's rage and cravings for battle and any spoils that he can claim. It creates a really beautiful and terrifying sort of symmetry.

And now for an utterly depraved idea...

Imagine the Cannibal swooping in and fighting an enemy dragon while Lucerys is involved in some skirmish on the ground and ripping off a chunk of flesh. The Blacks win the fight and the dragon lands and presents the lump to its rider like an offering.

Lucerys is quiet as he watches the great dragon lower its massive head and nudge the meat towards him. He can hear the whispers of onlookers calling his bonded a monster and how they should all fear for their lives. Through their bond he can feel Cannibal's quiet encouragement. Here. The flesh of your enemy. Eat. Be strong. With Cannibal's thoughts echoing in his head head, he opens his mouth and commands, "Dracarys."

The dragon's flames errupt forth, scorching the meat in a controlled burst of emerald fire. The gathered crowd watches on in shock and horror as the Prince draws out a knife and slices away a strip of seared meat. The Cannibal throws back his head with a proud roar as the boy accepts and his teeth sink into his gift.

(Tell me Aemond wouldn't go absolutely unhinged and feral over finding out Lucerys ended up eating Arrax in order to survive and may have just eaten a piece of one of the Green's dragons. It'd probably be worse if it was Vhagar that was injured too. Haha.)

I'm frothing at the mouth with this - it's like you're in my head.

When I thought up the whole symbolic cannibalism of Lucerys eating bits of Arrax to survive, I was so giddy. It happens rarely, but some of the things my brain comes up with honestly blow me away. I just immediately sat down and went yes YES this is what I need.

Poor boy is going to Go Through Some Things under my tender care. Just a dash more trauma and survivor guilt to make him extra spicy.

Lucerys will be walking a very fine line for most of this - and god am I excited to dive into his bond with Cannibal.

The unspoken understanding between them, that soul-deep connection, distorted reflections of each other…it'll be so good.

Lucerys' gradual shifts in personality, guided by Cannibal's own - it's like being caught in the tail of a comet. Cannibal is old, he has been around since the dawn of the Targaryen dynasty, and Lucerys is so young, too young to be able to keep himself grounded in the face of such a force of nature. Cannibal's hunger, that insatiable bloodlust - it'll start to bleed through, and Lucerys will be made into something new.

Especially in the beginning, when their bond is so fresh, Lucerys will feel the need to reinforce their connection. But once they've settled into their new dynamic, that will be when it becomes…routine for him. Normal. The disgust and shame mostly doused by the heady rush of power that comes from being a predator.

Once the war begins in earnest, and they are too valuable to leave wallowing on Dragonstone, Lucerys takes to eating his meals with Cannibal. He doesn't always partake in whatever prey Cannibal hauls in - sometimes it's enough for him to simply mime that act; but more often than not he'll return to camp with animal blood staining his mouth and hands.

The men are unnerved, Targaryens have always been…queer to outsiders, but who are they to question a dragon? Who are they to question Lucerys Velaryon, the rider of one of the largest dragons alive, and who is said to be unkillable?

No. They merely avert their eyes from the boy when he returns from visiting his beast, keeping their thoughts to themselves and praying that the day never comes when they are seen as prey.

(And as for Aemond? Well, when he hears the rumours surrounding Lucerys, when he hears how he drenches his pale skin in the blood of his kills, when he hears the way people speak of the boy with hushed fear instead of scorn…he can't help but laugh.

Because Lucerys had always been a violent, hungry little creature.

It's just now that everyone else sees the truth.)

[jumping-joey1104]

Ej hcs?

Love him, for me EJ is more demonic. I first really started learning about him when people made him more demonic than just a normal grey dude in a mask with bad eating habits.

EJ HEADCANONS

Ok, like I said further up, EJ is more demonic to me. Having Digitrade like legs and more claws. One of my favorite headcanons is that he can be very… uncanny.

EJ himself is uncanny, he gives off human, he looks human, acts human. But there’s just something…. Off yknow? Other than the werewolf legs and razor sharp teeth.

Whenever he isn’t wearing his mask (that thing needs cleaned and fix so often, but it’s still more rare to see him without his mask) he keeps his eyes closed. Without actual eye balls behind his eyelids his eyes are a lot more sunken in. And whenever he opens them that black tar drips out much faster because of build up.

Speaking of his eyes, his vision is there (gods know why??) but it’s very similar to having very bad cataracts. Everything is so blurry for him that he depends on scent and echolocation to find stuff.

With a hand over their mouth they could only pray that their heavy breathing was stifled enough. They didn’t even know who they were praying too, after tonight they didn’t know if there was a god that could hear them. The sound of feet hitting the ground makes them jump as a tall figure appears in front of them with his back turned, sniffing the air before smiling. He could smell them… with a grin under the bloody mask the being makes a clicking noise with his tongue. The blue mask looking around the area before getting closer and closer before it meet the persons face with a final click.

That kinda thing, pretty scary huh?

But one thing this guy is desperate for is something human, not for dinner. He craves his own humanity like a wounded child craves their parents. The thought of even looking in the mirror makes him go into a silent rage.

To EJ he’s still human, all those people he’s eaten and torn apart like paper… those are just bad dream. He forces himself into a delusion that it’s all just a bad dream, even though he remembers every part. He’s just a college kid with bad dreams.

He’s so desperate for that humanity that he’ll grip onto anything that reminds him of that. Normal food makes him sick, too sweet too salty. He can’t eat anything other than meat without wanting to throw up. But he still does it, remembering the morning he’d stop by the local coffee shop before classes for a bagel and coffee as he forces himself to swallow down what tastes like mud and spoiled milk.

Like I said earlier, he’s a very uncanny person. I like to head canon that he can dislocate his jaw if he needs to. Making sickening pops as the victim sees the sharp teeth lining his mouth. Sometimes he’ll hunch over with teeth bared. Not like a dog, but like a cat. While dogs are more prone to pounce and bite, EJ is one to slice people to shreds with his claws.

But he’s still a gentle giant (when he isn’t hungry). Those that he sees as friends quickly become family, even if he doesn’t say it he’ll put his life on the line to give his friends a chance to survive. He has nothing else to live for if he loses them.

He only has a few items he treats the same way, audio books he’s snagged and listened to over and over again. CDs filled with music from god knows where. I like to think that he still likes flowers, the scent of them in spring. He has bundles of dried flowers and weeds in his room. Falling apart with every touch but he keeps them, not wanting to give up that little bit of peace he has.

Everything that he’s had to let go of is covered in claw marks.

[onlyacrazy-cat]

Trought your eyes Narilamb Fanfic 1/?

After a long day of work a black cat was returning home.

Today had not been a good day, hunting in the forgotten lands was not something simple, much less fruitful, it seemed that with each day the lands lost their fervor, they withered and perished.

But the cat needed protein, and not just him, he took the bag containing the day's hunt in his hands, and after looking at it for a few seconds he decided to knock on the door of a stranger's house.

The door was opened by an female elder raccoon, accompanied behind some various creatures.

“What brings you tonight, Mr. Nari?”

The cat showed the bag and put it in the raccoon's hands

“The hunt went well today, so I stopped by to leave the leftovers.”

“Very generous of you, Mr. Nari.”

The cat nodded

"aby…. How is she doing."

“Aby? …..”

Small hands pushed the raccoon away from the door frame, a group of children smilingly greeted the black cat.

“did you come to play? Let's play!” said one of the children who looked like he was a porcupine.

"me first! I want you to carry me again!” said a wolf cub

"Come on children, leave the good sir alone, it's late and both of you should go rest"

Nari looked at the children, like looking for someone face specificly.

“Aby is still a little sick, but I'm sure some meat soup will make her feel better, thank you very much, Mr. Nari.”

The cat nodded, and retreated into the darkness of the night.

His current refuge was a small cabin that clearly needed repairs, but for the little he could afford it was enough.

Inside the cabin there was the minimum and essential, -that's how it should be-, the cat thought, after lying in the damp bed he thought it was time to look for a new home, how many years had he lived here already? …10?, 20? Maybe a little more, in any case, the best thing would be to leave, the small town had no future, the bandits being on the edge of the forgotten lands, and those religious crazy people appeared every now and then in the town, if it weren't because He was there and therefore he cleaned the place of unpleasant presences The town would now be devastated, not to mention the minimal resources available...

Plus, there was that problem, soon the inhabitants would wonder why he hadn't aged a day since he arrived, soon they would get scared, soon they would turn against him, like in other towns, Nari preferred to leave when he could still maintain a good reputation, a nice memory of the place, and, above all, walk away before generating emotional attachment.

Narinder, was his real name, sometimes he changed it to Rin, Nari, Rinder, whatever was necessary in order to maintain a part of the only thing he could call his own, he never used it in full, it was important for him to be able to change his identity if he wanted to. So if one day he set foot in the same town again, he would just pretend to be the son of his previous incarnation and start over.

While he was thinking about what route he should take to leave the place, he couldn't help but think, even if it was only for a few seconds, on Aby's face, Aby was a small black cat like him, except for a large white spot on her face, and for some strange reason, perhaps the fact that they belonged to the same species, she caused him concern, if he could call it that.

He had not been attached to any living being for quite some time, but that little creature... would not survive the approaching winter without gaining weight, without care, without protein and good food that the orphan home could not supply, if he left the village now, I would condemn the little girl.

That was why he hated helping others, once you help them they will expect you to do it again and if you've already gotten in, you can't just ignore things.

Maybe, if she stayed a few more weeks, the little girl would survive, and he could get away before he grew attached to this dying place.

Trying to avoid thinking about how hungry he was, he decided to sleep, that way he wouldn't feel anything.

His dreams had always been an enigma to him, sometimes they were a meaningless set of sensations, and other times like this, it was a set of memories that never happened.

“Narinder! Where the hell did you put my ceremonial robe?!”

A childish laugh filled the room, in the middle of it a couple of little ones were playing wearing different types of clothes in ridiculous ways,

“I am the 𝓰̐͋̍̈ͯͧͤ̀́̚̕͟͢͠͏̴͈̟͕̘̮̤̞̩𝓸̸̡̢̍̊ͣ̿̓̃͂ͣ̕͏̸̮̯̜̝̮͍̤̫̀̀𝓭̴̶̷̵̧̨͙̹̥̗͙̙̫̱̊̿̓̿̓̏̿ͮ́́ ̶̶̨̰̟̘͈̥͙̮͇͒ͨ̊̂ͩ̈́̓ͦ̀̀̕̕͠𝓸̧̢̡͕͚̘̩̯̥̬̖ͫ̅ͧ̍̂͊̊̏́̕͘͢͠𝓯̴̵̨̢̧̛͍͕̰͓̞̯͖͛́͌͗͑̎̅̚͡͠ͅ ̴̵̨̛ͤͯ͛ͤͦ͒͒̓͏̢̠̰̼͈̘̙̻͝͝ͅ𝓭̷̐͊͊̈́ͩ̔̉͒́͢͏̴̸͠҉̮͖̞̩͇̳̞̠ behold my grace!”

A greenish, blurry figure leaned over laughing.

“You are nothing compared to my feminine elegance,” a reddish figure mentioned almost instantly.

The people in the room were like blurred shadows on a glass, yet they had certain silhouettes and a voice that could not be defined as natural, yet somehow the voices bringed familiar feeling.

“Narinder! Did you know that today I have an important ceremony! "Why did you take my robe?" a blue figure screamed.

"Leave them, I gave them permission" - answered a calm voice of a tal purple figure who watched the children play, with what seemed like a smile, or what could be one among the blurs and stains of memory -

"You are always like that! You always let him get away with it. It's not fair, I'm your brother too!”

“It's not like that, we've already talked about it.”

"No! “I’m sick of you letting this little demon do whatever he wants!”

The cat figure approached carefully, took off his robe and returned it, silently saying no words.

“Hump! I hope he doesn't have any scratches or else…”

Looking at the robe, it was now decorated with small crystals that made it look even brighter.

“Nari thought it would be a good idea to put some crystals on your robe, nice detail” -said the purple blur.

Although he couldn't see the face of the blue blur, he could feel the illusion irradiate of him, then there was a slight giggle.

“I guess the fact that some crystals perfectly covers scratch marks is just a coincidence.”

“You said it” -the purple stain laughed- “if you liked it, I think someone deserves an apology.”

“Maybe… where is that fur ball? …” -when he turned around there was no one.

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

Screams and complaints inside the room, the little boy was waiting outside sitting on the floor, awaiting his punishment.

At the end of the discussion the purple figure came out to see the little boy, looking at him sitting there, they sat next to him and spoke with an understanding voice.

"why did you broke 𝑘̨̑̐̓͋̇̒ͬ͋͏̢͕̪̫͈̲̰̲̩̀́͘͡͞𝑎̶̸̂̈̅ͯ͆̉̈͛͏̷̛̳̪͈̮̟͉͚͖͢͢͝𝑙̷̸̷̨͓̱̻̭̦̹̩̍͋̓̅̆ͯ̀̆́́͞͡ͅ𝑙̴̛ͫ͐̂̓̇ͨ̌͑҉̷̴̨̯̦̮̤̰͕̲̀͟ͅ stuff?"

The little boy avoided the older man's gaze.

“Because he called me a demon, I'm not a demon.”

The older man shook his head – “I know that wasn't the real reason.”

The little one sighed, and after thinking about it for a long time he said

“Why wasn't I invited?”

The older one did not interrupt, letting the younger one speak.

“Everyone was invited except me, even ℌ̸̴̶ͮͥ̊̊ͧ̂͊́͢͝͏͏̦̘͎̤̞̺̪͢ͅ𝔢̵̴̵̡̧͍̱͙̳̪̫͍̱̒͊ͬ͗͐̇̊ͧ́́͟𝔨̢̒̊̍̌̉͊̔͗҉̨̡̛̹̹̮̝̹͎̰̭͞͞͞, but when I asked 𝑘̨̑̐̓͋̇̒ͬ͋͏̢͕̪̫͈̲̰̲̩̀́͘͡͞𝑎̶̸̂̈̅ͯ͆̉̈͛͏̷̛̳̪͈̮̟͉͚͖͢͢͝𝑙̷̸̷̨͓̱̻̭̦̹̩̍͋̓̅̆ͯ̀̆́́͞͡ͅ𝑙̴̛ͫ͐̂̓̇ͨ̌͑҉̷̴̨̯̦̮̤̰͕̲̀͟ͅ why I couldn't go…. He said ..."

“Ḑ̶̛̛̌̈͒̽̄͐̃ͤ̀̀͡͏̘̫͙̟̦̼̝̱ẻ̢̨̛̥̭̟͍̬͙̫̞̊ͧ́̓ͬ͛ͩ́̕͟͢͠â̛̇ͬ̈̆̎ͧ͋̀͜͏҉̛͓̞͈̤̗̯̙͚̀͝t̸̴̵̡̗̞͇̦̱̖͔̖̎͊ͮ͊̏͛̊͆̀́̕͟ȟ̵̴̴̨̨̡̆̋ͫ͑̐ͤ̈͏̺̱͖̼̮̻̖̀ͅ is not welcome at a party,” the older sibling interrupted with a calm voice.

“Exactly,” he whispered.

"That doesn't justify your actions" -the little boy looked at them sadly- "besides, he's right" -the little boy felt his heart stop-

"What do you mean?" -whisper-

“Ḑ̶̛̛̌̈͒̽̄͐̃ͤ̀̀͡͏̘̫͙̟̦̼̝̱ẻ̢̨̛̥̭̟͍̬͙̫̞̊ͧ́̓ͬ͛ͩ́̕͟͢͠â̛̇ͬ̈̆̎ͧ͋̀͜͏҉̛͓̞͈̤̗̯̙͚̀͝t̸̴̵̡̗̞͇̦̱̖͔̖̎͊ͮ͊̏͛̊͆̀́̕͟ȟ̵̴̴̨̨̡̆̋ͫ͑̐ͤ̈͏̺̱͖̼̮̻̖̀ͅ is not welcome at a party, instead of attracting luck our followers saw it as a bad omen, I know you are intelligent and can understand it”

-The adult tried to touch the minor's head and the only thing he received was a hiss and a warning swipe-

“Narinder, behave,” said the eldest.

But the little boy only hissed again and distanced himself from him, his hair standing like Little spikes.

“Someday you will grow up and you will understand, you are important, but what you represent, what you are, is a cruel truth, and you will be ҉̷̷̷̨̛͙̞̖̦̰̭̙̜́̕ 𝘁ͯ̄ͪͫ̽̆͊̊͟҉̧̜̼̣̲̲͖̹͓͘̕̕͢͝𝗲̴̵̧̥͉͎̳̱͎͉͉͗ͧͤͤ͆̇̽ͨ̕͘͞͝͝𝗱̵̧̧̡̫͎̫̘̘̗͔̠̾̔̈́ͪ̆̓��͛̀͘͜͞ , we only do this to protect you” – the older sibling looked with pity at the younger boy and approached to caress him, this time The little boy allowed it, he seemed to stay stiff while being in a small shock, analyzing the words his brother had said to him, gaining a little courage, and hesitatingly asked

“So… you hate Me?”

“I love you brother,” the eldest responded, “and because I love you, I tell you, stay here.”

A single tear came out of the child's eye, suddenly things changed, the memory of the little boy in the hallway with his sibling faded, now the purple figure stood in front of the dark figure, which was again on the ground, between tears, blood and chains.

“I hate you sibling!” -a more mature voice shouted now-

“And I love you” -answered a weak voice-

The response he got was a heartbreaking scream, desperate movements caused the chains to clash loudly with each other.

“And because I love you, I'm telling you, S̸̸̵̡̧̏́ͤ̒̓ͪͧ̌͘͘҉͔̹͔̩̱̦͕ͅţ̨̢ͬ̂̎̒͗̐̿̅̕͟͝͏͏̤̥̰̠͚̖̺͉a̴̷͇͚̻͚͍͎͕͓͌̽̌͐ͣ̇̌̔́́͜͜͞͡yͪ̓̃̾̽͑̄̉͏̛́͞҉̡̨̹͙̩̹̤͚̹̜͢ ̷̵̵̧̮͚̠̼̳̺̦̙̾̄ͥ͊ͫ̐͊ͮ́̀͟͡Hͮ̓̓ͮ̿̀ͩͨ͠͏̴̶̸̛͍͍̘͚̳̝̙̦͘͟ę̵̓͆̍̃̂͑͗̀͏̵̡͉̩̱̺̣̟̻̼́͜͠r̸̴̶̡̛͔͙̞͚͇̟̭̃͗̉͂ͮ̏̑̚͟͝͞ͅȇ̴̲̩͈̮̗̘̪̖͛͆ͤ̿ͤͪ̓̀͟͝͝͡͝͝” -the weak voice responded again, the screams continued, the chains smacked and the view blurred, before everyone turned completely white.

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

Narinder woke up in sweat and tears, his wrists hurt, breathing hard, it was as if he could still feel the cold chains that were embedded in his skin.

The dream had been strangely vivid and long, although he did not understand who those beings were that accompanied him in his dreams, he felt familirity.

Maybe it was his mind trying to create a coherent story to explain his unknown past, inventing a family for him… other children he played and grew up with, those who raised him and apparently loved him.

The emptiness that these types of experiences made him feel was worse than facing reality.

In the forgotten lands... he had met more than one like himself, people without memories, whether by choice or not, mostly people with such an atrocious past,

that in order to survive they had kept what they had experienced in the recesses of their minds, and when most of what they had experienced until then had been a martyrdom, there was not to much to remebmber if the few good memories that remained were mostly almost non-existent, this generated severe amnesia, although no case as severe as his own, where the only thing he had left was his name.

Narinder caressed his wrists, running his fingers over the scars, there was the unmistakable mark of a past that he had decided to forget, for a while he tried to remember, but every time he tried, he could smell the metallic aroma of blood, feeling trapped and feeling hatred, he came to the conclusion that maybe it was better not to remember, maybe it was better to forget.

It was not his first dream in a chain, every time he dreamed about that theme, it was different, so he did not take it with importance, he ignored the failed memory, as if it were just another lie, he sat on the edge of the bed, deciding that It was time to start the day and he got ready again, he was going hunting in the forest, he needed some protein for breakfast.

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

He followed the same path as always, upstream, the cold season forced the fish to escape to warmer areas, streams like this one contained no life, even so it was a good place to start, the animals had to come to drink water, and when, If they did it, he would simply hit a quick and effective attack with an arrow, and to increase his chances, he would continue the path towards a small lagoon, it was close to a small surrounding town, it would take them a couple of hours walking to get there.

As he got closer to the town, the plants around him began to dry and wither, it was as if the cold winter had arrived earlier in that area, since everything seemed devoid of greenery and life.

There was a strange smell in the air, and the water in the stream was becoming cloudy.

When he finally reached the small lagoon, there were no signs of life, not a single weed grew in the surrounding area, and the bushes that were still fixed to the ground were nothing more than a pile of dry whitish leaves.

The cat did not understand how such a body of water could be devoid of life around it, or why only the the lake had some strange life, it was covered in foliage, long and wide leaves covered the surface of the lake, they had showy flower buds in their center, which It seemed to be water lilies.

After such a long walk the cat approached to drink some water, using his hands like a bowl he drank, but almost instantly he spit out the contents, the taste was extremely unpleasant, he spat again, the sensation in his mouth could only be defined as putrefaction, but how was it possible? If this lake fed the entire area?

While he was recovering from the bad drink, he heard a bubbling in the water, something had emerged, curious he observed, among the foliage it was something a little difficult to see, he used his own bow to make his way through the foliage to observe better, it seemed familiar, something in the color pattern, It was fabric, had someone lost their shirt in the lake? He wondered innocently, until he felt the firmness of the object and with a small push, the object turned around, a body, headless and with some missing limbs, was shown among the foliage.

He jumped back, listening to the new bubbling, more bodies emerged from the water, one by one, in pieces, some of them fresh, others swollen and putrid, the aroma was nauseating, and as if it were a cruel joke, the cocoons of the Lilies opened, pushing the mud around them to emerge neatly, in a shade of red as bright as blood.

For the first time in a long time, Cat felt afraid, unable to understand what was happening around him.

“Are you sure it's the last one?”

“Completely sure, with this last sacrifice we will finish the ritual”

A pair of hooded men were dragging what appeared to be a villager, his head covered by a sack of potatoes.

“our lord will be pleased”

One of them carried an ax, they dragged the villager to a stump near the lake, the man begged for help while the hooded men ignored the requests.

“You will regret it! When the fox comes! you will regret it!”

“Is the fox your god?” Instead of asking us for mercy you should pray to the lamb.”

“Ungrateful fools! Your false god will only take advantage of you!”

"You wasted your last words," said the hooded man with the ax as he raised it ready to cut the villager's neck.

He lifted the ax into the air and instead of it falling with the force of gravity the weight carried him backwards and he fell to the ground on his back with a slight thud,

"what the hell!?" The hooded man shouted before an arrow knocked him out of the game. The hooded villager screamed in confusion and as soon as he felt a hand on his shoulder he defended himself with a headbutt, despite not being able to see his aggressor, he used the little mobility he still had to try to escape.

He screamed when he felt the claws on his clothes drag him back, he stirred desperately, without explaining why the captor had decided to remove the jacket that covered his vision.

A cat, with black eyes and black fur, to say that he was surprised was say too little, the cat was wearing somewhat old clothes, but it was certainly not a sect robe.

How is it possible? -whispered the rat- you must be the last of your k-..

The cat looked at him with annoyance, was it really the time to start talking about nonsense? He took out a small knife and cut the ropes from the rat's hands but he forgot to cut the rest.

“Thank you Mr… cat…” he said looking at him as if he were analyzing him again.

“We better move quickly.”

The rat shook his head "we can't, there are still people in the village, we have to save them"

“It's not my problem,” he responded quickly.

“But you saved me,” The rat responded almost instantly.

The conversation would only go in circles if he continued with the argument, the real reason for saving him had been simple, information, something that macabre, it couldn't happen just by its own, something was wrong, he could feel it in his gut.

“First tell me what happened here” – the cat approached as if nothing had happened to the bodies of the strange adepts, ensuring that they had stopped breathing, also seing if they had any valuable object.

"A damn god" - the rodent's voice was as full of pain as it was hatred, it cracked as it tried to complete the sentences, unable to move too much, the mouse jumped until he finded an ax, the same weapon that would cut off its head, he used the Sharp Edge to set himself free-

“A false prophet?” – Narinder asked without understanding how a mere mortal could cause so many deaths.

“Not exactly, while all gods are false in their doctrines, this is a real god, or at least he has the power of one.”

Narinder was speechless for several seconds watching the mouse's hard gaze, he was not joking.

“This is the forgotten land, there are no gods here, only desolation.”

“Now there is” – the serious look of the rodent caused him a shiver, which ran through his entire body.

The floor trembled under his feet, the stones fluttered, this time it was the rodent who rushed towards the cat, tackling him with his entire body, both rolled among the dry and dead bushes, when the cat wanted to complain the mouse only made him a sign of silence

A voice that could only be defined as coming from hell itself echoed

It was like hearing hundreds of voices without harmony at the same time, like animal scratches and meaningless squeals, Narinder tried to cover his ears but when he touched them he realized that his eardrums were bleeding, the mouse put a hand on Narinder's chest, giving protection and making sure it was okay, the mouse covered one of its two ears from the sound, he made a quick sign for Narinder to cover itself as well, so he did, Narinder observed that the rat had also bled from its ears and was covering them firmly .

Narinder looked at the creature, immense, bigger than any house he had ever seen, as tall as a mountain, it was pink, it seemed to be some kind of salamander, no, it was an axolotl, on its neck it wore a necklace, which shone with a pinkish glow.

The enormous creature took one of the followers of his cult in its hands, it seemed to speak again with those strange sounds.

“:How e+×÷)£€ that £££€+×÷ er na (×£€÷€ well?”

Words escaped Narinder's grasp, but that inharmonious whole was beginning to have some kind of meaning for him.

The strange god left them making the ground rumble again, as if they had forgotten to breathe, they both took a big breath of air.

"That's... the damned god who killed half the Village," the mouse whispered, Narinder decided that this battle was one he couldn't win, not against such a beast.

With his hair standing on end, he turned around, ready to leave.

“I do not blame you if after having seen such a being you wish to flee, but you must know, child, no matter where you go, the forgotten lands are no longer safe, and this terrible god will find us, wherever we go.”

It was as if the air had been forced out of his lungs, the emptiness inside was painful and terrible in equal doses.

“Help me save those we can”

Narinder turned to look at the mouse, he wouldn't do it, he would never do it, he would never put himself at risk for a simple.

The cry of a baby, in the distance, made Narinder turn his ears slightly, the sound was unmistakable, a scream between labored breaths, as loud as the infant could manage, but as weak as his hours of life, fearful of The new environment was the cry of a newborn, of a new life.

“I can't do this alone,” the rat whispered.

Narinder remained silent for a few seconds, before looking directly into the other mammal's eyes.

"We need a plan"

And the Rat smiled at him in response.

if you liked please keep reading at my ao3 account the 2d chapter is already out