#top hat rat pack

[quirkhopper]

The next character in Top Hat Rat Pack, this is Winifreddie! She's a frog maid (and the only maid) who works in the SnazzCap Hotel that Top Hat Rat owns. She's silly, hard working, and friendly! She's always working super hard day and night, and often struggles to sit still and relax. But don't worry, she actually loves her job, and does everything with a derpy smile on her face! Though she's got a weird quirk where she's prone to randomly swallow objects whole. Furniture, tools, and other stuff that's not actually edible. Her tummy is always cluttered with random junk. She often times coughs up said junk, some of which is helpful, like a mop and other cleaning tools. No one knows why or how she can swallow so much junk, her only explanation being "Habit"

I really like this character, so tell me what you think!

[fangisms]

summertime at the burrow

A/N: i want to be an honorary weasley please im literally begging. notice me molly weasley

Pairings: Best Friend!Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Fred finally invites his best friend home over summer holiday. Neither of you expected it to go so well. 3.7k words.

Warnings: fluff, best friends to lovers, ungodly amount of shenanigans, friendly bullying/teasing, mud wrestling, kissing, (friendly) violence, pet names (trouble, snookums, sugarplum, sweetheart), cursing, borderline frog abuse

"Good morning, trouble."

You hop into the seat next to him that he’d been saving for you. In fact, he’d been saving it for you since the first time you plopped down beside him after the sorting hat declared your house first year. You laughed when he shook your hand. He thought you had the cutest smile. Then you teased him for his devilish charm and he called you catty, and you’ve been teasing each other ever since.

"Are you packed and ready?” He sounds more worried than that time he nearly shattered his collar bone during a vicious Quidditch scrimmage. “We're leaving bright and early tomorrow. Mum says she's preparing a hearty lunch for our guests." Fred scarfs down the rest of his breakfast and turns to look at you to find you're looking back at him in bewilderment.

"Somebody's excited," you tease, ruffling his fiery locks and glancing over at George with a grin.

"If you think this is bad, you should see him before winter holidays," George huffs.

“I have.”

Fred rolls his eyes at you and you jab him in the side.

"Where are the lot of you off to?" Lee perks up from across the table, setting his plate down and wiggling his way between Alicia and Angelina.

"I finally got my honorary invite to the Weasley burrow this summer," you chirp, wrapping your arm over Fred's shoulders and leaning him into your side.

Lee cocks a brow and smirks at a suddenly and uncharacteristically shy Fred. "Well, it's about time! You've only been dating for—"

You shake your head. "No, not dating, Lee. I swear we've been over this—"

"Oh, we've been over it plenty. I just choose to ignore wicked witches when they lie—!"

You practically leap across the table with your teeth gritted to grab for his robes when you're stopped by the laughing twins holding you back from tearing into him. "Lee Jordan, you take that back right now, or so help me your mother will wonder why your hair's gone purple!"

"I'm not going to apologize for being lied to!"

"Let me at him! I'm trying to defend my honor here!"

"Miss—young lady!”—McGonagall appears behind you, sending you into shock and barreling back onto the bench—“Settle down! You're frightening the first years, and we typically prefer they come back in the fall."

"Apologies, professor, I was simply trying to have a friendly discussion with my classmate," you say, gesturing to Lee who smiles begrudgingly.

"Right, well, from now on, let's have our discussions from across the furniture, not on top of it." She wanders away, and you turn to stick your tongue out at Lee who is doubled-over and cackling at your being caught.

“I hope you know, we’re going to receive the same third-degree from my dear mother,” Fred mumbles in your ear. His heart races when you turn to him, a playful glint in your eye. You blink sweetly and rest your hand on his knee when he tucks his arm around your lower back. “But don’t worry, sugarplum, it’s never too late to try.”

He winks. Your eyes go wide, and you shove at his shoulder with a chuckle disguised by a scoff.

“Scabbers not the only rat in the Weasley family, I see.”

“That is exactly what I’m talking about, there’s no way you two are just friends—”

A slice of ham sticks to Lee’s cheek with a cold, wet slap as you eye him from across the table.

“Don’t listen to him, snookums, he just doesn’t understand our complicated arrangement,” Fred says, nudging your cheek with his nose and holding back laughter.

“Gross,” George mutters, grinning before he’s met with the same lunchmeat backhand his friend so rudely received. “Suppose I could’ve predicted that one.”

…

You wipe the sweat from your brow, slinging your carry-on over your shoulder before bending down to pick up your trunk. You’re trailing behind most of the rest of the group, just a few steps behind the twins while their younger siblings charge ahead through the field with Harry and Hermione. Fred checks in with you every couple of meters, making sure you don’t need any serious medical attention.

Once the twins breach the front door, you take a seat outside on your trunk, fanning yourself with your hand and throwing your head back. Then you hear:

“Fred, you better get out there and help that poor girl with her things!”

“Sorry, mum!”

You chuckle when he appears in the doorway moments later, winded as ever, hair plastered to his forehead, and still grinning wildly as he jogs over.

“What’s a lovely young lady like yourself doing outside all alone on such an unbearably hot afternoon?”

“Sweating like swine.”

“Ravishing,” he teases, shooing you off the suitcase, “head inside, mum’s absolutely itching to meet you.”

So you do. You can see her welcoming her children and their friends alike, and it fills you with the warmth of fresh gingerbread and the nerves of a teenage boy during school dance season.

“My dear!” she coos, arms outstretched even though a thin year of sweat coats every inch of your body, even though you’ve been wearing these clothes for a day, and even though you’re breathing heavy like a dog. She’s got her arms outstretched like you’re family.

“I’ve heard so much about you from Fred, and, goodness, you’re even prettier than he said you’d be!” —She gasps when he walks through the door, hauling your trunk in tow—“Don’t tell him I told you.”

“It’s been five minutes and you two are already sharing secrets about me. Only seven more days, Freddie,” he mumbles, setting the trunk down with a thud.

“Oh, well! It’s wonderful to finally meet you, dear, Ginny will show you to your room and lunch will be ready once you’re all settled!”

“Thank you, Mrs Weasley—”

“Oh, none of that, call me Molly.”

Your brows knit when she smiles at you so gently before making her way back to the kitchen.

“Thank you, Molly!”

Fred hops up from where he’d been relaxing on an armchair, clapping you on the arm with a reassuring smile.

“Everything processing alright up there?”

You nod.

“Peachy. Now give me a smile, you’re scaring me.”

You squint at him and pinch his arm, simpering when he hisses and swats your dry-gulching fingers away.

“That’ll do!”

“We’re up this way,” Ginny chirps as she rushes by and tugs you by the hand up the stairs.

Fred watches after you, rubbing his arm with a mean look on his face just before his playful resentment fades and his affections settle into the apples of his cheeks. This is going to be a long seven days.

…

Fred had never invited anyone to stay at the burrow. He preferred the company of his close family and whoever his mother deemed Weasley-enough herself. But he’d been saving this invitation. It stewed in the back of his mind for years before he mustered up the courage to offer it to you.

Ridiculous. That’s how it sounded in his head: ridiculous. If he wanted to ask you, he should have done it at the first chance. That’s what Fred would do. But he could never bring himself to get the words out whenever he swore to himself today would be the day. Because you’d just look at him with those damned doe eyes—you’d test his boundaries and make him all gushy inside—and it was like he was suddenly turned to a tongue-tied and pathetic halfwit.

And now here you are. An unofficial part of his family. But nevertheless a part of it. You’d found the annual Weasley strawberry-picking trip to be wonderful despite Fred pulling cheap pranks on you and the fact that it was basically sweltering outside. When you returned, you all spread out in the family room with bowls of the dewy berries in each of your laps. Everyone claimed a seat while you and Fred were forced to share the hardwood floor. You ended up tossing the small fruits into each other’s mouths with your legs laid across his thighs.

At one point, he lands one of the berries down your blouse. Almost immediately, he starts to laugh, clutching his chest while you gawk at him.

“You better start running, trouble.”

He gulps and scampers to his feet before scurrying out the front door. You take off after him, shouting curses into the wind when he rounds a corner.

You follow his footsteps but he’s nowhere to be seen.

“I swear, if I ever get my hands on you—”

He grabs your waist from behind you, dipping down to whisper in your ear. “You can put your hands on me whenever you’d like, sugarplum—”

“Merlin’s Beard, Fred! You scared the shit out of me!”

You jolt away, and he thinks you look genuinely angry this time. But he smiles and your features soften. Then you’re after him again, bounding into the tall grass with an uproar of laughter.

…

You spend the next few days of your vacation trying to beat Ron at chess then deciding it may be better if you and Harry team up to try and beat Ron at chess. You also take Ginny and Hermione shopping while the gaggle of boys trail behind the three of you grumbling and whining about missing their beloved Quidditch game.

You offer to help Molly with every meal, and she only accepts once you convince her your desserts are a crowd favorite back home. She’s proud to say she’s impressed, and she grows even prouder when you admit you adore big families like hers and see at least two kids of your own in your future.

Arthur takes a liking to you after you listen to him rave about the kind of items muggles use day-to-day and how fascinating their modern technology has become in recent years. He’s thrilled to find you actually take interest in his tinkering and collections and whatnot.

But most of all, you spend your time at the burrow with Fred. He steals you away after meals and keeps you up late to teach you his favorite charms. One overcurious evening finds you two perched together on the bathroom floor whispering and giggling while you brush a bold smokey-eye onto his eyelids. Let’s just say dinner that night was nothing short of hilarious: a look that Fred will never live down.

On the fifth morning, you jostle him awake. He whines about the sun not even being up yet while you drag him down the steps and shove your socked feet into an extra pair of rubber boots.

“What’s the bucket for?” he whispers, traipsing down the path along the side of the house when you stop dead in your tracks.

“Shh!” You press your gloved finger to his lips. A chorus of croaks erupts from the marsh beside the house. Nothing out of the ordinary for Fred, in fact that sound had often soothed him to sleep. But there’s a dangerous glint in your eye that tells him you’re on a mission.

“Can’t we do this when the sun is up? It’s cold and I’m tired—”

“The faster we catch ‘em, the faster we can go back to bed,” you whisper as your boot sinks into the edge of the muddy body of water. He sighs and sinks in next to you with his hands on his hips.

“I can’t believe you’ve convinced me to do this. You’re lucky you’re so pretty or you’d never get away with anything.”

You purse your lips and wade a little further out, looking out at the cooly rippling water beneath the sliver of sunrise.

“Yes, I would,” you say, quietly but so matter-of-fact he’s inclined to believe you.

Just then you spring into action, shoveling a small frog into your bucket with a victorious grunt. A few minutes later, he shuffled over to you and lowers his cupped palms into your bucket: three more frogs settle down into the center with a wet plop. You beam up at him, and it’s worth the early morning trouble to see you so happy and have you so close.

“So what do you plan on doing with these poor creatures once we’re done?”

You sit on the bank of the waterbed, sighing and setting the bucket beside you. He watches you from the water while you examine the small blob of darkness in the center of your palm. The bottom of the bucket is lined with croaking frogs, and the sun is well above the horizon, dousing the sky in soft pink and warm rose.

“I’m going to let them go.”

He lets out a sharp breath, hands falling to his sides, leaving streaks of mud down his tee shirt.

“You’re joking.”

You look up at him. You’re not joking.

“No,” he huffs. “You did not drag me out of my nice, warm bed to catch a million slimy frogs in the freezing cold dark just to let them go again.”

“Oh, but I did.” You’re crazy, he thinks. You’re crazy and it’s the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. Doesn’t make you any less crazy, though it might make him much less sane.

You set the frog down in the grass and leave the bucket tipped over. The small creatures immediately flood out from the splotchy tin opening into the newborn daylight and the crisp morning air. You stand and wipe your hands against each other a few times, scrunching your nose and finally meeting his eyes again.

“What’s wrong, trouble? Cat got your tongue?”

You grin.

“You know, one of these days, I’m going to say ‘no’ to you, and it’ll be a rude awakening.”

Fred walks past you like he’s really mad. Like it was an uncrossable line and you treated it like the tape at the end of a marathon. He’s hulking back towards the house when you grab his wrist to get his attention.

“What?”

But you don’t look sad. You don’t look pitiful or hurt. You look like you’re scheming, and it drives him crazy. As if he could ever say ‘no’ to you.

“You think I’m pretty,” you coo, batting your lashes just to get on his nerves. His breath hitches, and he feels warm despite the nipping cold of the morning.

“Unrelated.”

You drop his hand and cross your arms over your chest with a pout. He continues leisurely toward the burrow, tossing his gloves to the ground with a huff of hot air.

“Fred?” you call. And you sound worried, so he’s compelled to whip around. But when he does, he’s met with a rude awakening.

It was a misstep. A silly mistake, the wrong footing. Easily avoidable, and yet he didn’t avoid it. So he’s ass-first into a mud puddle with you shrieking in laughter about a meter away.

“You’re awful,” he grumbles, both hands propping him up and seeping into the thick mud as seconds tick by.

“I’m sorry! Freddie, I’m so sorry,” you cackle, taking a few steps toward him with tears of joy in your eyes. “But you should have seen your face!”

“Help me up,” he says, shaking his head and wiping his hand down his pajama pants before holding it outstretched to you. You grab it and tug enough to leverage him out of the muck. But he doesn’t budge. And in that moment, your eyes are filled with fear. Then, with one jolt, you topple down into the mud right beside him.

“Fred!”

“An eye for an eye, sugarplum.”

You push yourself up onto your hands to find your entire front is caked in mud, the mess narrowly avoiding your chin and above.

“You’re going to pay for that.”

“Oh, bring it on,” Fred teases.

You smirk just before a handful of mud is smeared across his chest by your slippery glove.

“Your move, trouble.”

He shakes his head and chuckles, looking down at the abstract art work fondly. But not quite fondly enough to hold himself back. His fingers dig into the puddle determinedly just before patting the top of your head with it like a stray dog. You squint your eyes closed and groan before peeking one eye open and coating his cheek in mud.

You make it to your feet and Fred hurls a ball of mud at your ass but he misses and it lands in the grass in front of you. You bolt around the back of the house, but he hurls a hunk towards your shoulder blade. You yelp and shout at him:

“You’re supposed to be a gentleman!”

“I’ll show you a gentleman, sweetheart,” he hollers it just before he catches up to you. You squeal and nearly slip on a slick patch of grass, but before you can leap out of his reach, he grabs your upper arm and presses you against the tree just behind your back.

“That’s not playing fair, Freddie, I’ve got nowhere to run,” you say, breathlessly grasping at the edge of his shirt with a tired smile. He chuckles and plants one palm against the bark beside your head, bringing the other hand to cup the side of your neck.

“You don’t need to run anywhere,” he mumbles, “just stay here.” The dried mud on the pad of his thumb draws a swipe of dirt down your cheek. Your fingers curl around his wrist and your lips part sweetly when he leans in.

“Time to come inside, you two! Breakfast is ready!”

Your eyes go wide when he leans his forehead against the tree with a grumbled curse.

“I suppose I am quite peckish!” you chirp, dragging him along behind you all the way to the front door. You leave your boots and gloves outside and brush some of the dried dirt from your pajamas.

You sit across from him at breakfast and catch him stealing glances at you every so often. With a mouth full of food, you wink at him with a dirt-smeared face and almost make him spit out his juice when you kick him under the table. George teases the two of you about wrestling in the mud while Molly scolds Fred about tracking it into the house.

…

Before long, you’re facing the final night of your stay. You’d been dreading the end since the beginning, and now that it’s here, you’re heartbroken. It’s been nothing but fun and you’ve never felt so wonderfully vulnerable with so many people around.

But the thing you’ll miss most is Fred. He could sense you pulling away the last couple of days. Trying to shield yourself from the impact of reality. No matter how hard he tried to cheer you up, he knew nothing could stop you thinking about how much packing up and leaving would hurt.

With your things splayed out across the floor of your temporary room, you had started packing hours ago but kept finding ways to distract yourself and avoid the idea of leaving altogether.

“Need any help?” Fred knocks on the doorframe, leaned against it and wearing the blue jumper you once told him he looked best in. You smile up at him from the floor.

“No,” you huff, “but some company would be nice.”

He perks up and shuffles around your belongings to plant himself on the edge of the bed. You had made the bed up nicely, tucked the duvet and set the pillows out nicely. He told you you didn’t have to, but you did it anyways.

After a few minutes of folding and refolding the same shirt, you stand from the floor and join him on the bed. He’s leaned back onto his elbows when he nudges your foot with his. You nudge him back but don’t turn to look at him. So he sits up and bumps you with his shoulder.

“I’m going to miss you,” he says, fussing with the edge of your shorts to distract himself, “Being here, I mean. As a part of our family.”

You smile down at his fiddling fingertips and inch closer, looking at him with this half-sad, half-happy look that has him confused and hopeless and head over heels and confused.

“I had a really, really nice time,” you whisper, leaning your head onto his shoulder and letting your eyes drift closed.

“So…”

You chuckle and smile to yourself, “So…?”

You sit up when the floor rattles a little, a thudding coming from the room below you. Then George shouts.

“Get it over with already!”

You both look at each other and giggle. Fred leans back again and you watch him tilt his head back and let out a sigh. His chest rises and falls beneath that damned blue sweater, and you trace your fingertips over his knuckles. He lifts his head and smiles cheekily at you, like he knows what’s going on inside your head. Like he has any idea. And for once, you think he might be pretty close.

You practically tackle him to the bed, smiling against his mouth when he cradles your face in one hand and rests the other on your waist where your shirt had ridden up from the ruckus.

You pepper soft kisses over his blushing face, leaving faintly glossy lip prints on his cheeks and nose and forehead and a stray one on the column of his neck. He goes slack against the bed, satisfied and content and happy all because of you. But still, he lazily opens his eyes and grins mischievously and says:

“Took you long enough.”

You smack your hand against his chest just hard enough to warn him.

“Oh, you’re trouble, Weasley.”

He cups your hand against his warm chest and his smile ebbs from mischief to something not as easily recognized. Something that makes him shy and pink thanks to the girl who likes the freckles across the bridge of his nose in the summer and his hands even when they’re covered in mud. Love that makes him much less sane for the girl who might just be crazy for loving him back.

And all of it makes him hold your hand and lean up to kiss you one more time.

masterlist

[kookslastbutton]

Love's Remedy ༓ jjk (m) l ch. II

✑ Summary: Jungkook is a romantic. He comes from a highly intelligent family who wants him to carry out the lineage. Being this way, he goes to college to be a pharmacist but his friends say college isn't just about studying! With a little persuasion, he goes to his first frat party thinking his hat will help him pick up a girl-or woman he means.

Pairing: STEM major!virgin!jungkook x STEM major!hot girl!reader

AU/genre: angst, smut, fluff, s2l, college au, mini-series

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 2,783

Warnings: angry koo, jealous koo, gym rat koo, thicc thighs koo, protective koo, kook checks his abs out, koo gets in a physical fight with an aggressive jerk that involves punching, name-calling (half pint, hermit crab, b*tch, Bambi, honeysuckle, kookie), mention of blood (minor), jk is very cute and determined towards oc, oc has philophobia (fear of relationships), oc has poor self-esteem, cussing, bit of crying...sorry lot of warnings this chapter

Now Playing: seven, summertime sadness, she’s kerosene, angels like you+

A/N: Yes, I'm aware this chapter is short, still Jungkook is shirtless in half of this and I am not sorry. This chapter also gets heavy but I hope you enjoy! 💞

<< ch. I ༓ ch. II >> | series masterlist

A week passes since the frat party and Jungkook hears nothing from you. He's reluctant to accept that you've likely already deleted his number but why else would you be radio silent? Why would someone like you ever be interested in a shy little nerd like him?

He's disappointed but when he gave you his number, it's not like he was expecting anything in return.

Well, he can’t stay hung up on you forever—he'll give you one more week. In the meantime, it’s 5 p.m and he’s off to do his daily lifting at the gym. He read somewhere online that evening is better for building strength, and that is exactly what he intends to do.

With a basic black tank top and gym shorts on, Jungkook scans the expanse of the facility. The place isn’t too crowded being that it’s nearly dinner time but it’s still moderate. He’s hoping Jackson will join him soon, considering they’re buddies now because isn’t that what guy friends do? Workout together?

When he makes his way to the weight room he quickly finds it's packed with guys double his size. Half of them look like they're upperclassmen while the other half is split between first-years like him and a small handful of women. He sheepishly strolls over to an empty pull-up bar, deciding to start with chin lifts.

Jungkook sets his water bottle on the ground, reaches for the handle, and lifts his body up until his chin is level with the bar, legs swing in the air slightly. He then extends his arms back out. The burn in his biceps feels good. He repeats the motion a few more times but has to stop when he hits six.

He takes a big swig of his water, already sweating evident from the tank top sticking to his back. The coolness of the water helps but between his own sweat and the sweat of others around him, Jungkook is tempted to throw his shirt off. Most of the men in the room aren’t wearing any more than shorts anyway so why can’t he?

Jungkook grasps the edges of his tank, pulling it up a little. How did his abs look? Were they good enough to show off? He’s working out diligently since 14 but he was still on the smaller side compared to the rest of his peers.

The mirror to his left helps him get a better look so he shifts his body over. When he does he catches a slight glimpse of a familiar face in the top right corner. Jungkook instantly drops his shirt, whipping his head around.

What were you doing in the weight room? And with some buff guy twice his size closely behind you? All he’s doing is staring at your ass in those tight purple shorts which so happens to have a matching crop top.

Jungkook scowls at the sight.

When you take a seat at one of the bench presses a couple of feet away, his eyes widen. The guy you came with stands behind your head as you lean back. He helps you set the barbell. It’s too far for Jungkook to hear what he’s telling you but he’s convinced it’s nothing good. Whoever this guy is he won’t stop grinning, and you’re grinning back!

You said you don’t do relationships. You said you'd think about going out with him. You said a lot of things but here you are with some guy that looks an awful lot like a boyfriend, how disgusting…

Fuck it.

Jungkook turns his eyes away from you, yanks his tank off, and grabs the pull-up bar again. He’s gonna knock ten of these out in one set.

Shoulder-width apart, he keeps a steady pace though he makes sure to take deep breaths to prolong his stamina. His eyes fixate on the back wall of the weight room to avoid you and your supposedly new boo from getting in his head.

Apparently, you just didn’t want him. It’s fine. Jungkook exhales. It’s all fine.

After three sets of chin-ups, Jungkook releases himself from the bar to check his phone. He takes another glug of his water too.

Jackson: hey Kook, I was planning to join you at the gym today but I got my family in town tonight. Man, it’s only been a week….can you believe they’re here to visit already?

Jungkook: Wow, all I’ve gotten from my family is a short text saying good luck. They must miss you a lot but yeah, it’s no problem. We can work out another time?

Jackson: You got it bro. Thank you for understanding 🙏🏼 Also, there’s a second thing 😬

Jungkook: ??

Jackson: I might have told my parents about you so are you free to get lunch with us tomorrow? My parents want to meet you. Our treat.

Jungkook: Really? Okay yeah. I’d love to meet them. Time?

Jackson: We don’t know yet but likely 1pm if that’s okay?

Jungkook: Sure, I’ll just be studying so. Text me when you know.

Jackson: I will. How’s the gym?

Jungkook hovers his thumbs over the keyboard. When he glances up to think, he’s reminded of your lingering presence. You’re no longer bench pressing anymore but instead doing a set of bent-over dumbbell rolls. With the way you’re torso’s angled, anyone who’s anyone has a direct view of your rear end. Any decent person would pay it no mind but that same douchebag next to you keeps gawking.

“It’s not meant to be a fucking sex position,” Jungkook mutters and types out a response. “Fucker.”

He makes his way to the black punching bag on the other side of the room, passing a strong glare at that young man as he nears the two of you. He doesn’t know his name but he’d really like to go over there and knee him in the balls. His eyes flicker at you for a moment, so pretty.

“The hell are you staring at my girl for half-pint?” The man calls Jungkook out in an aggressive stance. “Keep your eyes in front before I fuck you up.”

Frazzled, Jungkook scurries to move past the both of you with his head down. “Sorry, I didn’t mean anything.” He doesn’t get three steps before a solid form blocks his path.

“Who are you apologizing to? Your feet? Look me in the damn eye when you talk to me.”

“Jun-ho stop,” you come up beside the man, tugging at his arm. He yanks himself out of the grasp, however, jolting your body back. You nearly lose your balance.

“I’m just trying to teach this little hermit crab what happens when you stare at another man’s woman, baby.”

Jungkook clenches his fists as you struggle to re-stabilize yourself. You should not be with this asshole. He doesn’t deserve you, he doesn’t deserve to be calling you his baby. Who the fuck does he think he is shoving a woman like that.

“Don’t fucking call me that,” you spit. “I’m not your woman. Now leave Jungkook alone. He doesn’t need this.”

Jun-ho gives you a cocky smirk. “Oh? So he’s Jungkook huh? You know him too. You fucking him behind my back or something?” He takes a step towards you. Jungkook lunges forward seeing your obvious discomfort.

“Don’t touch her!” Jungkook stands between you and Jun-ho. He’s shaking so badly but he doesn’t budge. “Take another step and I’ll–I’ll–“

“You’ll pound me in the ground? You and what army? You can’t even talk.” He snorts and moves to toss Jungkook to the side. “Get out of my way.”

Jungkook feels the back of his neck heat with rage, his ears red and burning. There’s no way in hell he’s letting Jun-ho get to you.

“She told you to stop, so why don’t you just–fuck off!” Jungkook shoves Jun-ho back with as much force as he can. His body’s not built and his arm muscles aren’t as ripped but he’s got some big fucking thighs that manage to anchor him to the ground.

“You shit.” Jun-ho grits his teeth and punches Jungkook straight in the gut. Jungkook doubles over in agony. His hand clutches over his abdomen as he groans. You hurry in front of him but you’re thrown to the side by a pair of large hands. “Move bitch,” Jun-ho snaps, eyes bolstered on the smaller man.

“Hey, what the hell is going on over here?” The manager of the gym rushes over to the three of you. He grabs Jungkook and offers him support. “You can’t be doing this young man. You need to leave now.”

Jun-ho shakes his head. “Count yourself lucky this time Jungkook. Could have been a lot worse if it weren’t for this old man getting in the way.” He stares at the manager and then at you. “Come on __.”

“You’re fucking nuts if you think I’m coming with you. I’m staying with Jungkook.”

“No, you’re fucking not.” Jun-ho reaches for your arm until his head is knocked backward by a clean, punch to his jaw. “Fuck! You Fuck!” He holds his jaw, stumbling into a rack of dumbbells behind him.

Jungkook’s knuckles bleed as he holds his own wrist. He winces at the sharp throbbing and stinging from the punch. “Okay no more, no more,” the manager anxiously darts his eyes back and forth between him and Jun-ho. “I want you all out of my facility this instance.”

After being thrown out of the gym, Jungkook returns to his dorm room. He insists he takes care of his injury himself but it doesn’t sit well with you so you follow him.

“I’m so sorry about this Jungkook. Jun-ho’s a bastard.” You finish wrapping his knuckles in the elastic bandage then lean forward to place your hands on his shoulders. “Promise me you won’t ever do that again.”

Jungkook holds your pleading stare from his seated position. Your soft hands are simultaneously soothing and unsettling. He’s not mad at you for what happened at all. But seeing you with a jerk like Jun-ho when you rejected him, someone who’d never treat his girl like a piece of trash causes all kinds of knots inside him.

“You’re not going to see him again right? Because I can��t make that promise if you do.” His voice is low, nervous that you'll say yes.

Jungkook might not have personal relationship experience but he's witnessed his share of unhealthy relationship dynamics more times he'd like to count.

“Jungkook…” You muster up the best reassuring smile you can and tuck a few loose strands of his hair behind his ear. “Nothing's going to happen between me and Jun-ho anymore. We weren't anything serious. But you care too much about me, I’m not worth the trouble.”

Hearing this, he reaches a hand up to close over yours. “Please don’t say that. Everyone deserves to be cared for and as long as I can help it, I’ll be the first to do it.” His big, doting eyes search into yours. "And good, don't go back to him __. He's not the type of man you need."

"And what type of man do I need Bambi?" You stroke his puffy cheeks and quirk your head to the side inquisitively. Jungkook flinches at the touch.

"Bambi?"

"You didn't like it when I called you baby so, had to come up with something else."

"But." There's that pout again. Jungkook doesn't like being called a baby but when someone reaching this level of adorable, its so hard to shake. "But I just knocked a bitch out for you. How can you keep calling me baby names?"

The chuckle that leaves your lips is heaven to Jungkook's ears. "Aww Jungkook," you coo. "It's 'cause you're a little honeysuckle. So sweet to the taste." His ears perk up at that, gnawing on his bottom lip. "But if you want me to call you something else that might take some more time for me to figure out. Until then do tell me, what do I need?"

"Someone that'll protect you."

"Mhm, okay but—"

"Emotionally, physically, and mentally." Jungkook lists out loud. "That means someone to stand up for you, support you in the ways you need. Someone to help keep losers like Jun-ho out who only look out for themselves." He pauses, contemplating thoughtfully. "You need someone you can trust too. When you're sick you'll be taken care of and he'll never ever cheat on you. Even if you fight, he'll always stick by your side. You'll watch movies together, cuddle under the covers, and stargaze on summer nights. He'll also peel perilla leaves for you and love you until sunrise. Finally, when the time's right he'll ask to marry you, only if you want, of course."

Jungkook waits for you to give him a reply, a little breathless. He notices the distance between you and him somehow got larger. You're now about two feet away from him when you were only mere inches before.

"I'm sorry." He lowers his head. "It's silly I know. Everyone tells me I'm some kind of dreamer boy, just a hopeless romantic."

"It's not silly Jungkook." You soften your expression. "It's a beautiful idea and somewhere out there will gladly share those things with you. You'll live a full life together having all those wonderful experiences."

"Wanna have them with you though." His eyes flicker up at you. "I really like you __."

Oh no, no no no. You push down the pressure building from inside you. "No, I can't. I'm sorry Bambi, I want to but you don't know me." A small tear spills out of the corner of your eye. "I'm not able to....I can't love you like that."

Jungkook gets up from his chair and reaches for your trembling hand. You're tempted to pull back if it weren't for the fact that your hand feels warm in his.

"I can," he says. "I can love you if you let me."

You shake your head, and another hot tear rolls down your face. "Sorry, I don't know why I'm even crying." You quickly wipe your wet cheeks.

"You don't always need a reason. Sometimes it just happens and that's okay. I cry all the time when I'm by myself." Jungkook grabs your other hand slowly. "Just wanna be here for you."

You blink back the remaining tears welling in your eyes. You're embarrassed this is happening at all. Jungkook is the sweetest, most kind-hearted, and most selfless person you know. He shouldn't have to be dealing with any of this.

"If we can't go out, is it okay that we are friends?"

"I don't want to do that to you Kookie."

"Hey, I like that one," he says with a lifted voice.

"You do? I didn't even think about it like the others."

"You were thinking about me?" He bounces in the air a little, at least that's what it looks like to you by the sudden rush of energy Jungkook responds with. He likes knowing you've been paying attention to him, even if only a smidge.

You dart your eyes past him, fingers curling in his hand. "Well I mean..." Jungkook waits intently. "I guess...yes, some."

"Oh please __, please let me take you out. We don't even have to call it a date."

"You're too persistent, you know that?"

"But is it working?"

"I'm not ready yet Jungkook." His shoulders slouch and he opens his mouth to say something though you continue before he can get anything out. "To give you an answer. I'm not ready to give you an answer yet is what I'm trying to say."

"Well, that's okay. You wanna think about it longer? We can four years until graduation."

"You're such a goof, you'd wait that long for an answer?"

Jungkook shakes his head. "No, I'd wait that long for you." He pauses. "Okay maybe I have been watching one too many Korean dramas. Even I threw up in my mouth a little."

Too both share a laugh, this is the weirdest, emotionally exhausting day ever. "Thank you for what you did today with Jung-ho. And for trying to comfort me. Will you possibly be able to wait another week? If it's too long you can tell me. I've made you wait long enough."

"A week from now, let's meet up okay? Or call at least. Even if it's a no, I don't want this to be the last time I get to see or hear you."

"Okay." You nod. "I promise."

And that was the end of that night, as Jungkook walks you to your dorm soon after. It was getting dark out after all.

A/N: tysm for reading! Lmk what you think and if you wan to be tagged comment/ask 💞

Masterlist

Taglist:

@hoseokteardrop

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[sassenach77yle]

||COUNTDOWN ||SEASON 1 EPISODE 12 || LALLYBROCH ||

#83daysofoutlander☆

Broch Tuarach means “the north-facing tower.”

From the side of the mountain above, the broch that gave the small estate its name was no more than another mound of rocks, much like those that lay at the foot of the hills we had been traveling through. We came down through a narrow, rocky gap between two crags, leading the horse between boulders. Then the going was easier, the land sloping more gently down through the fields and scattered cottages, until at last we struck a small winding road that led to the house. It was larger than I had expected; a handsome three-story manor of harled white stone, windows outlined in the natural grey stone, a high slate roof with multiple chimneys, and several smaller whitewashed buildings clustered about it, like chicks about a hen. The old stone broch, situated on a small rise to the rear of the house, rose sixty feet above the ground, cone-topped like a witch’s hat, girdled with three rows of tiny arrow-slits. As we drew near, there was a sudden terrible racket from the direction of the outbuildings, and Donas shied and reared. No horseman, I promptly fell off, landing ignominiously in the dusty road. With an eye for the relative importance of things, Jamie leapt for the plunging horse’s bridle, leaving me to fend for myself. The dogs were almost upon me, baying and growling, by the time I found my feet. To my panicked eyes, there seemed to be at least a dozen of them, all with teeth bared and wicked. There was a shout from Jamie. “Bran! Luke! Sheas!” The dogs skidded to a halt within a few feet of me, confused. They milled, growling uncertainly, until he spoke again. “Sheas, mo maise! Stand, ye wee heathen!” They did, and the largest dog’s tail began gradually to wag, once, and then twice, questioningly. “Claire. Come take the horse. He’ll not let them close, and it’s me they want. Walk slowly; they’ll no harm ye.” He spoke casually, not to alarm either horse or dogs further. I was not so sanguine, but edged carefully toward him. Donas jerked his head and rolled his eyes as I took the bridle, but I was in no mood to put up with tantrums, and I yanked the rein firmly down and grabbed the headstall.

The thick velvet lips writhed back from his teeth, but I jerked harder. I put my face close to the big glaring golden eye and glared back. “Don’t try it!” I warned, “or you’ll end up as dogsmeat, and I won’t lift a hand to save you!” Jamie meanwhile was slowly walking toward the dogs, one hand held out fistlike toward them. What had seemed a large pack was only four dogs: a small brownish rat-terrier, two ruffed and spotted shepherds, and a huge black and tan monster that could have stood in for the Hound of the Baskervilles with no questions asked. This slavering creature stretched out a neck thicker than my waist and sniffed gently at the proffered knuckles. A tail like a ship’s cable beat back and forth with increasing fervor. Then it flung back its enormous head, baying with joy, and leaped on its master, knocking him flat in the road.

“‘In which Odysseus returns from the Trojan War and is recognized by his faithful hound,’ ”

I remarked to Donas, who snorted briefly, giving his opinion either of Homer, or of the undignified display of emotion going on in the roadway. Jamie, laughing, was ruffling the fur and pulling the ears of the dogs, who were all trying to lick his face at once. Finally he beat them back sufficiently to rise, keeping his feet with difficulty against their ecstatic demonstrations. “Well, someone’s glad to see me, at any rate,” he said, grinning, as he patted the beast’s head. “That’s Luke—” he pointed to the terrier, “and Elphin and Mars. Brothers, they are, and bonny sheep-dogs. And this,” he laid an affectionate hand on the enormous black head, which slobbered in appreciation, “is Bran.” “I’ll take your word for it,” I said, cautiously extending a knuckle to be sniffed. “What is he?” “A staghound.” He scratched the pricked ears, quoting“Thus Fingal chose his hounds:Eye like sloe, ear like leaf,Chest like horse, hough like sickleAnd the tail joint far from the head.” “If those are the qualifications, then you’re right,” I said, inspecting Bran. “If his tail joint were any further from his head, you could ride him.” “I used to, when I was small—not Bran, I don’t mean, but his grandfather, Nairn.” He gave the hound a final pat and straightened, gazing toward the house. He took the restive Donas’s bridle and turned him downhill. “In which Odysseus returns to his home, disguised as a beggar,…” he quoted in Greek, having picked up my earlier remark. “And now,” he said, straightening his collar with some grimness, “I suppose it’s time to go and deal with Penelope and her suitors.” When we reached the double doors, the dogs panting at our heels, Jamie hesitated.

“Should we knock?” I asked, a bit nervous. He looked at me in astonishment. “It’s my home,” he said, and pushed the door open.

26THE LAIRD’S RETURN ~ OUTLANDER

[kitasgloves]

"A Secret for the Stars"

— ♬ Fyodor was a regular at the tavern you work at. But behind every polite smile and gesture, was a different man he'd rather not show you...yet.

— ♬ Fyodor Dostoevsky x Reader, SFW, 1920s AU, fem-bodied reader, Fyodor is kinda lowkey obsessive and unhinged on this one (I mean, when is he not?), 2.4k words, no beta

— ♬ hello, yes, I have returned to serve my first bsd fanfic and it's this russian rat, hope you guys enjoy though

The evening was particularly colder than yesterday. People occasionally strolled by in the streets, pulling their coats tighter and rubbing their palms to produce warmth. Pitiful beggars were reaching their dirty hands out to every passerby, their pathetic countenance left unseen by others, making it impossible to extract a little bit of sympathy. In rare instances, someone would look at a beggar's face, but it's either with unconcealed disgust or sheer sympathy. A man represents the latter, his gloved hand digs into the pocket of his coat and gives the beggar five coins worth of money. The beggar's face lights up significantly, eyes watering with heartfelt compassion at the male stranger as he thanks them silently with a weak nod. He nods back before resuming his walk.

He takes each step with confidence and certainty. Anyone who lands their gaze on him can tell he's a man of rationality. A man who knew how to form foolproof plans and had success etched on the palm of his hand. His ebony peaked cap rests comfortably on top of his dark head, his complexion rivaling the snow, and his slim but tall build utters grace. He had on a black coat with a dark waistcoat underneath, his white dress shirt and red tie peaked out. His charcoal trousers and boots were cleaned and polished. One would take him for a nobleman or someone with great importance.

Deep violet eyes scan the old tavern ahead, it was a place he frequented in after his daily 'affairs'. From the sufficient light through the windows, he deduces that the tavern was packed with drunkards this evening. Nonetheless, he enters. The scent of alcohol and tobacco filled the atmosphere, he merely gags. He strides to his favorite spot, near the back where nobody bothers to occupy. He removes his hat and takes a seat. His observant eyes watch the sea of drunkards hollering and insulting each other during a game of cards, a few were slumped over on their tables smoking, and some had managed to pass out on the disgusting wooded, beyond intoxicated.

Amid the chaos, he hears soft footsteps approach. He holds back a smile for he recognizes the owner of the footsteps. He carefully turns his head and his eyes meet the warmest [Eye color] orbs he has ever encountered.

"Good evening, Fyodor! May I fetch your usual?"

"Please, of course, my dear"

Fyodor replies with familiarity. You and Fyodor only knew each other by name and face, you two didn't have any conversations but only polite greetings. You worked as a waitress in this tavern. Amongst the rough faces available in the place, yours by far are the most comforting. Fyodor found you fascinating. He couldn't exactly point his finger at it but it had something to do with your indifference in your environment. You've served him the same drink for months to the point a routine was formed and became familiar.

An educated man such as he knows how to pay your service with the right amount of money and a polite smile, unlike most of the hounds that occupied the tavern. Fyodor could barely hide his disgust at seeing drunkards stretch out their arms in an attempt to snatch you into their laps, their greedy and dirty hands testified to their perverted minds. However, you remained unshaken. You avoided their attempts at snatching as you ignored their whistles for a 'pretty young lady' to come over.

If Fyodor were to be a lesser man, he would've agreed with those perverted drunkards. You had a gentle face and complexion. Your eyes glimmered like the stars in the midnight sky while your smile resembled the sunrise. Your body suggested a healthy shape. And your movements weren't one of a graceful swan, but rather, a woman who knew what she was worth. Fyodor had an assumption of your hidden intelligence, you must be one of the fortunate ones in this poverty-stricken city to have learned how to read and write. Though, he would like to understand why you have chosen this occupation. For your good looks, you could've become an actress at the local theatre, it could've landed you great opportunities to travel overseas if you performed well. Or you could've, like any beautiful maiden, been married off to a wealthy man and lived your life with effortless luxury.

But he thinks he preferred you this way, serving him his vodka. When you returned with his drink, you didn't wander off, instead, you stood there as if waiting for him to speak up. Fyodor's lips curl up into a smirk at this.

"Thank you, [Name]. How is your day?"

"It's as equally as exhausting as the previous days, but it is nothing I couldn't manage"

"Hm, I admire your resilience. After all, how is one to strive in an environment like this?"

Fyodor gestures to the wild atmosphere at the tavern, you only laughed and waved your hand off.

"It's only necessary for me to try and strive here. I cannot afford to lose this job"

"And why's that? Are there no other opportunities?"

"I'm afraid no, my friend. You see, I have an unfinished education and a massive family debt I am responsible for helping to pay off"

"I see, how unfortunate"

This was the first proper conversation Fyodor has had with you and he immediately absorbs all of the information you have unconsciously given him. He greedily wastes your time in thirst to know more.

"You look famished, my dear. Would you like to take a seat for a moment?"

"Oh, only for a brief while"

You accepted his offer and sat across from him. Fyodor keeps the conversation alive by inquiring about more about yourself through innocent questions. He's both surprised and amused that you're answering his questions truthfully. He realizes you weren't bashful or meek. He recalls encountering women and seeing them with tinted cheeks and silently batting their eyelashes at him, hoping he'd be the first to speak or to fall for them. How absurd! Yet you have never batted your eyelashes at him, from what he gathers from your mannerisms, you only view him as the only peaceful regular at this wretched tavern. His eyes narrowed when one of those stupid drunkards called you to serve him another bottle of alcohol. 

"If you'll excuse me..."

You say to him as you flutter away from his presence. You haven't returned to his table for a while and it's making him impatient. Fyodor was determined to stay until you came back, watching and enduring you get constantly harassed by those foolish men. It was nearly midnight when the tavern usually closes, you ushered every drunk customer out before you began to clean up. Fyodor was the last to remain, on purpose. While you haven't graced him with your attention since you left the conversation, he has finished scheming.

"Have you gone tipsy, my friend?"

You asked him when you finally approached his table. Fyodor shakes his head and smiles.

"Oh no, I am not drunk, my dear"

"Well, that's a relief! I'm afraid you have to leave for the tavern is about to close"

"Is that so? Oh, I have not realized how late it was! But how will you walk home at this late hour?"

You chuckled as he perfected the feigned concerned expression on his face, it had seemed to effectively fool you.

"I am comfortable with finding my way home alone, Fyodor"

"Nonsense, a lady without company at this darkest hour isn't safe. May I accompany you at least until the end of the street?"

"How kind of you, my friend! Yes, but let me finish cleaning up first"

You turned to tidy the tavern, completely missing the cunning smirk on Fyodor's face. He selfishly watches you move around the tavern, cleaning tables while humming a tune and bending over to pick up the fallen chairs. His violet eyes gleamed with greed as he etched each movement into his memory.

"Are you finished, my dear?"

"Yes, let us head out"

Both of you exited the tavern, a cold breeze greeting you. He watched you pull your worn-out coat close to your shivering figure as he walked beside you. The street was dimly lit, it was sufficient to hide the satisfied look on his face. Suddenly, you looked up at him with curiosity.

"May I ask what job do you have, Fyodor?"

"I am involved with the government"

There was a look of surprise on your features. Of course, Fyodor's reply was neither the full truth nor half a lie. He needed you to think highly of him.

"No wonder you dress with importance! I did not know one of our regulars was a famous man"

"I am well-known in some parts of the city, but I'm far from famous, my dear"

"Well, then you must receive a lot of invitations and love letters every day!"

You beamed at him, Fyodor admits that he adores your natural curiosity of him. He doubts he'd be willing to show you who he truly was. Because he was more than that polite customer you serve vodka to almost every evening. His acquaintances and enemies regarded him the same way; he was a cynical man with a skill for scheming. He's selfish when it comes to his personal goals. His name has caused the destruction of many that have dared to stumble in his way. But he chuckles and replies to you.

"How insightful you are. I indeed receive a lot of invitations and love letters, but I only respond to letters with important affairs"

"I hope you're not the kind that burns love letters to keep his bath warm"

You remarked as you gazed forward. Fyodor merely freezes at what you said. He knows he has no room for romance in his life. Rationality doesn't require emotions. He could choose to laugh and tell you that he does burn love letters but he doesn't use them to keep his bath warm. Though the love letters were sufficient enough to keep his bath warm, he sees no form of use for them. They are nothing but unreciprocated affections sprawled on paper.

"No, my dear. That would be heartless"

"That's a relief. I do not think you're a cruel man, Fyodor"

Oh, how quick you were to accept that false answer. Fyodor preferred you to perceive him as a harmless man and leave this pristine image of him unstained. You were talkative, and it was the first mistake you'd ever made, if anyone who knew him saw this, they would warn you. One shouldn't be at ease to open up to a man like Fyodor, he's the kind of man to use anything you tell him against you. However, you weren't an enemy and he wasn't planning on making you one. He liked what he had with you now, for the time being.

Halfway down the street, Fyodor thinks how he would like to suck the life out of you. The way you babbled on and on about the most trivial parts of your life gave an impression that you were begging him to ruin you. The pure nativity and innocence you displayed in your eyes made his throat dry. Behind the smile he's giving you was a dark thought, he was prepared to use you in any way he could. It was surprising how effortless it was to manipulate you.

As you both reached the end of the street, you peered up at him with a smile. The street was divided into two; the path you stood behind was filled with bright streetlights while the one on his side had faded lighting.

"Will I see you again tomorrow at the tavern?"

"Of course, you will, my dear"

"Thank you for walking with me"

There was a different form of a smile on your face, it looked tender, and it almost reminded him of someone's mother. Fyodor had always watched you for a long time, he'd seen every expression you had to offer but this smile was new. And something that wasn't part of his scheme, occurred: you have reached to the tips of your toes to place a chaste kiss on his left cheek. For a moment, his contemptuous thoughts of you vanish. A terrifying warmth blooms in his chest. Fyodor stares at you unblinking.

"Goodbye, Fyodor"

He couldn't open his mouth to reply as you walked down that street on your way home. What in God's name was that? With a gloved hand, he reaches for his left cheek and recoils back like he's been burnt. Why did you do that? Fyodor furrowed his eyebrows and frowned. How disgusting! Yet his skin kept tingling. His mind replayed every smile, every laugh, and every moment he'd shared with you. He shakes his head. Pathetic! He thinks. However, he imagined you sharing those moments with somebody else morphing his hands into fists.

Fyodor grumbles as he makes his way down the dimly lit street. His eyes stare up at the sky towards the stars. Those glimmering stars only reminded him of your eyes and he scoffs. The stars perhaps have an idea of the feeling forming in his bosom. The stars have witnessed every cry of a man filled with despair and every confession of a man filled with love. But in this instance, Fyodor would tell the stars a secret instead.

A secret of his desire to obtain you. They would know how he wanted to pull you by the hand and run his hands through your hair. They would know how he would inhale your scent and steal your innocence. The stars would know how Fyodor has fallen captive under the mysterious spell that has got him determined to have you. He would rather pluck his eyes out than fall on his knees in front of you. No, he would never beg. Fyodor knows better than to beg, to beg means to admit defeat. But if God decides to take you away from him, well...he must be prepared to be a heretic.

Only the stars know now of his cunning plans for he has muttered it up to the midnight sky. Fyodor knows that stars burn up and die in the end so his secret would be safe for as long as he's alive. He laughed to himself as he continued to walk down the street.

©kitasgloves (do not steal or copy)

[lianaisabsent]

Hiiii :)

Your writings are really nice, in looking forward to see more pieces of your work. Could I maybe request reader(gn or female if possible) taking care of sick Fyodor? If not, that's completely fine too.

Take your time, and please take care of yourself too.

Good night/day!

Taking care of them while their sick

A/n: hello! Thank you for requesting! I usually write more than one character sometimes so I hope it's okay with you that I didn't just write Fyodor, and you're very kind take care of yourself as well!

CHARACTERS: Fyodor, dazai, chuuya

Fyodor Dostoevsky

He may be smart but he didn't calculate himself falling ill

He doesn't show it though, acts like its fine because he needs to still "Carry out his works for his ideal world"

You did end up finding out by nikolai that he's sick and you decided to tell him to rest.

“I did not need you to come and help me”

It was night time when you decided to visit Fyodor with something to eat, nikolai ended up slipping up about how Fyodor was sick in a conversation you both were having. You packed egg soup for him and some fruits and medicine to take with you because you doubt he had any facilities for you to work with in his rat filled basement.

As you entered the place, you knew Fyodor was known of your presence and decided to just walk inside. He was still working and monitoring things and you could only sigh in result. 'even when sick all he thinks of is being a world wide terrorist' you thought as you made your way behind him tapping his hat. “oh, you're here already” Fyodor said with a slight hoarse voice and you noticed cold sweats breaking out on his forehead.

“take a brea-” you were rudely interrupted by a simple “no” you sighed and looked around, the place was already congested and felt like it was going to collapse at any moment, no wonder he was sick. “if you don't take a break, you might end up having a worse outcome and your well thought out plan might have miscalculations in it and it might just fail, all because you didn't take care” you spoke sternly because talking sweet to him was not going to work so you had to persuade him through his plans.

He agreed to resting for a while so you made him lay down and drink the soup you made and when you took out the thermometer, you found out he had high fever

“how long ago did you even see the light of outside?” “a month ago” “...”

You did take care of him, fed him medicines and for a few seconds he even appeared slightly vulnerable due to the sickness because he held your hand as he slept for a while. You placed a blanket on top of him and patted his head.

Needles to say, He might have liked the attention

(I'm sorry if it was off I'm not very sure how Fyodor lives or if he even had a bed)

Dazai osamu

He is very dramatic. He will make sure everyone in the agency knows he's sick so he can stay home.

He does act more vulnerable during his sickness so he tends to want to stay home in general.

You found out about it from dazai himself when he called you about his reports. “why haven't I done them? Well.. Because I'm sick!”

It was a normal day in the agency after you finished up work, you gave all the reports from your last mission to kunikida and left the agency. You remember dazai saying he's sick so you decided maybe you should pay him a visit and see if he's doing well or not.

As you walked up to his place you knocked once, waited, twice still waited.. One more time and still waiting.. ‘he's seriously not going to open is he?’

You "threatened" to break the window if he wouldn't open and the door flung open in one smooth motion. “sweetheart I can't afford repair for a broken window!” dazai slumped around dramatically while you only shook your head with a slight smile.

He let you in and you saw the horror that was dazai's apartment.. Alcohol bottles everywhere and unwashed dishes and a weird smell of hot sweat. You slowly turned to dazai not even shocked because you expected this to some extent.. But not to this extent.

You cleaned the place up a bit and opened the windows and curtains and dazai hissed as if he was some vampire allergic to the light.

you made him lay down and took some water in a bowl and a clean cloth, dipped it in the water and laid it on his forehead. You made him some soup and made him drink that along with herbal tea you brought from the store. “can I get a kiss?” “I'll kiss you if you recover soon”

His bandages came undone at some point but you didn't look because you knew he liked his privacy so you only brought him the first aid kit and left him alone for that. When he called you back he hugged you and went to sleep.

Nakahara chuuya

He's not one to not tell you, he did end up telling only you that he's sick though.

He let's you care for him and he doesn't have the energy to say much when he's sick

Acts like a child

When he told you he was sick your first reaction was to band him from having wine. You went over to his house and made him drink a bitter herbal mixture. He almost puked it out if it wasn't for your threat to break his wine collection. He wanted to argue but his voice was in no shape to even speak.

He hugged you even though you told him that you have things to finish up, he asked you for everything from giving him water to making him something. He reminded you of a cat who asks it's owners for food and acts all high and mighty.

His place is always fairly neat so you wondered how he got sick, “long story short I almost drowned and I got out but I started sneezing and I ended up with this” “oh”

He stayed sick for a few days but luckily with you and kouyou's help he ended up recovering quickly and started arguing with people (people being dazai) so you knew he was better.

[twigg96]

Ch. 2: It's a Promise we Keep through Thick and Thin

Ride 'Em Cowboy

Ch. 1 Here

A Rodeo AU

Cowboy! Daryl X Male! EMT! Reader

Chapter Summery: Daryl and Merle head off to work at the ranch with tension building all throughout the day. When things finally come to an explosive fight.

Chapter Warnings: Ranch life, Lou, Merle and Daryl talk about things, swearing, accents, Merle is his own warning, Farm life and situations in farms, Smoking, Smokeless tobacco use,

Tag list: @crashlyrose, @wildcardadrian, @edgyboi10000, @ritosparty, @silly-lil-lee

The sun had hardly begun to rise in the sky when the first crow of the local alarm rooster tore Daryl from his dreamless sleep. Glancing to the bright green numbers on the microwave, Daryl sighed scrubbing his face hard. 5 AM sharp. They had exactly half an hour to get their shit together and out to the field before their boss would be knocking on their door wondering where they were at. Slowly Daryl sat up letting out a long and pained groan as his back ached in protest. These 12 hour days followed by three hour nights were really starting to kick his ass.

Grabbing the pack of nearly empty cigarettes sitting on the bed stand Daryl sighed, he'd brush his teeth later. He plucked a bent ugly one out of the pack. With a long exaggerated sigh, he used the tips of his fingers to pinch the tobacco back into the roll. The orange filter hung from his his bottom lip as he tapped the silver lighter out out of the carton. Striking it across his thigh he held it up to the end of his cigarette. Blue eyes watched the flame with determined double vision. Reaching up he cupped the brilliant flame with his other hand watching the cherry catch.

Smoke lingered in the air and circled around the shitty room in the double wide he shared with his brother. Wood paneling covered the walls making the room feel much darker and dreary than it really was. Certainly didn't fuckin' help anything that his boss refused to let them hang anything on the walls after Merle drilled a six inch hole in the wall "on accident."

Speaking of his dumbass of a brother...

Daryl stood up, albeit a little too fast for his body's liking, stumbling forward with a low growl tumbling to cling to the wall for support. His head spun and ached around his dry mouth and throat, waiting for the sick twisted feeling in his stomach to go away before pushed away with too much confidence.

The jeans he wore to bed would have to do. Bending over to dig through the clothes hamper was too big of a risk. Side stepping to his dresser drawers, Daryl pulled out a clean-ish white tank top and a button up work shirt. Anything that kept the critters from digging into his skin was a win for him, even if it didn't help to keep the sweltering heat at bay. Last but not least he plopped on his wide brimmed hat.

Stumbling out the door of his room Daryl pulled his belt tight, stuffing his shirt into the waistband of his jeans. He stopped at Merle's door covered in dated concert posters and models ripped straight from a sticky magazine. Rapping hard and fast on the thin plywood of the door he was surprised when it creaked open unlatched and unlocked.

The room wreaked of smoke, not just of the tobacco he was currently puffing on. Of weed and other substances he'd rather pretend he didn't recognize. Ignorance is bliss especially in the face of the police.

Posters covered the walls and holes Merle still needed to plaster over. An incense holder burned carelessly in the corner of the room adding to the range of smells in the room. The too large beige comforter shifted in strange lumps.

"Hey dick fer brains." Daryl growled, slamming the door open the whole way. "We got work-"

Well fuck him sideways!

Daryl stepped back his heart dropping straight into his fucking asshole. Sitting up in Merle's bed was that pretty little thing from the night before. Lilly? Louize? Jean? Didn't really fuckin' matter.

"Ah... wha-" She moaned pushing back her rat's nest of a mane. Grey sheets fell from her shoulders held only by her hand to cover her naked chest as she sat up to inspect Daryl with squinted blue eyes. "Oh... Oh I remember you." She slurred, her head lulling to the side, her bright blonde hair cascading down to cover her face. She pointed at the youngest Dixon giggling fondly.

"Yeah... your the one that's riding on Mermer's team." She mused bringing her right knee up to her chest. "What are you doin' here so early, cowboy? Didn't think training started til later." She hummed, tilting her head to lay her cheek on her knee.

Daryl swallowed hard and thick. Anger and frustration filling his chest as he stared at the woman laying in Merle's bed. Glancing to the floor Daryl shook his head at the entire predicament he found himself in.

"Got work..." He murmured soft, nervously rubbing the back of his neck, pushing his hat up over his eyes.

"Where's-" Daryl blinked, what had she just called his brother?

"Where's Merle?" He asked, staring down at his feet, silently wishing he had his boots on. The woman hummed clicking her tongue at Daryl.

"You're all work and no play aren't you?" She teased, winking at him. "Don't worry. He's in the bathroom. Said he needed to shower before he went to check on his farm for today."

Check on his farm? Poor girl...

Daryl sighed pinching the bridge of his nose. "You gotta way home?" He asked.

Smirking the woman nodded. "Yes'm. Drove myself here last night when your brother called begging for a-"

"Aight." Daryl cut the girl off with a wave of his hand, turning right around down the hall ignoring the girl's giggles.

Dumb sum' bitch.

Storming to the bathroom door that hissed and billowed with as much fog as a couch fire, Daryl damned near kicked the door in with as much force as he pounded on it.

"Je-Sus!" Daryl could hear Merle swear, loud banging and tumbling was either Merle dropping his body wash or falling flat on his face scrambling to get the fuck out of the shower. Either way Daryl could give a shit right now.

"I thought I told ya." Merle cried, the sound of the faucet turning off and a drawer slamming shut only slightly amused Daryl. "Ta stay in the room and if ya had ta piss go outside!" Merle growled throwing open the door. A billow of steam surrounding him in all his naked glory holding only an old stained towel around his middle to cover himself.

What a ladies man...

Daryl glared daggers at Merle, his hands eyeing his brother as he stood silent and judging. The eldest Dixon's eyes widened and his face turned from anger and contempt to a fake smile that more resembled a sneer as he faced Daryl.

"Oh... mornin' little brotha. Take it ya ran inta Lou this morning?" He asked, smirking as if were no thing at all. Daryl stayed silent. His face and body reading the utter disgust he felt. Merle however didn't seem one bit affected, shrugging off his brother's indifference to grab his clothes from toilet seat.

"Ya wanna jump in the sha'er real quick 'fore we head off ta work?" He asked pulling on his boxers and jeans under the the towel. Tossing the damp cloth into a heap in the corner of the room when he was done.

It took all Daryl had in him not to punch Merle in the nose. The older man was sporting a shiner from the night before he never learned a damn thing from. Merle cocked a brow at his younger brother pulling his muddled wifebeater over his head.

"Her rack got ya all in a stupor or sum shit?" Merle teased patting Daryl on the shoulder as be pushed past, stumbling into the kitchenette. Daryl followed close behind his glare burning a hole into Merle's back. The thick smell of coffee mixed with the sweet smell of Merle's cheap ass cigars.

"Wha'?" Merle asked glancing over his shoulder, pulling down two coffee mugs for them both.

"Swalla yer tongue sometime last night?" He asked. Merle poured the coffee black straight from the pot into their thermos. The little red light on the side of the pot flicked off when Merle unplugged the machine. Daryl caught the tall green thermos he knew was his own by the faded peeling camo duct tape wrapped around it's middle.

Daryl rolled his eyes, stuffing his feet deep in his boots and grabbing his keys from the hook beside the door. The bright blue Prius sitting in front of their trailer stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the rusted trucks he and the other ranch hands owned. The broad owned one of the most suspicious cars to own for a marital affair out in the country...

With a shake of his head, Daryl huffed slamming the squealing door of his truck shut harder than he probably should have if he wanted the rust to stay put on the bottom. He tossed his thermos back into the back cupholder, tapping the steering wheel impatiently.

Slowly the sun's rays cast a red hue across the wheat field that swayed in the wind across the dirt road from their trailer park. The trees silhouetted cast long shadows across the ground and the air hung heavy with every breath he took even though it wasn't quite cold enough to see his own breath.

Tapping out his cigarette in the truck's ash tray Daryl glanced over to his brother as he slowly climbed in. "Well... lets get this over with..."

The ride to work was bumpy and rough. While usually filled with talks of bull shit and lies or the radio blaring too damned loud for how early it was in the morning, the ride was eerily quiet. Gravel crunched under the truck's tires and while the road wasn't too bad Daryl made sure to hit every pot hole possible just to make Merle's car sickness act up alongside the hell of a hang over he knew he was nursing with the coffee he was huffing.

"Fuckin' Christ Daryl." Merle hissed, clinging to the door handle for all he had. "Think ya could hit them holes any fuckin' harder?!" He growled. Daryl hummed a small but satisfied smile gracing his lips as Merle gagged winding down the window stuffing his bottom lip full of spearmint snuff.

With a glance out the open window Daryl watched the poor souls running the tractors plowing and preparing the crop fields who have been working since the crack of dawn. Corn swayed and bent as the combine tractor Merle had been banned from ever driving again drove carefully slowly and methodically through it, spraying the product into the wagon driving beside it. Taking off his hat Daryl stuck it out the window and waved at the drivers. Both drivers returned the favor in kind and if Daryl wasn't mistaken Merle had stuck his hand out to greet them as well.

Dancing and bare crop fields slowly turned to open and bare livestock farm land surrounded by both electric fences and barbed wire. Horses trotted happily around the paddocks shaking their manes and whipping the flies that bothered them with their tails. The loud ear piercing squealing of pigs could be heard a near mile away just over the ridge, tiny piglets running loose in the pen enjoying the morning dew. Goats stood proud on their perch of hay silently judging the Dixon's as they drove past. The smell of manure hung thick and heavy in the air. Even after cleaning the stalls three times that day it still reeked... but so was the ranch life and what getting paid so well included. It was the smell of hard work. A smell Daryl had long since become accustomed to.

The Dixons set to work as soon as they arrived at the main farm. Stepping out of the truck to go their separate ways for a time. They knew their duties by now. Merle went off to grab one of the four wheelers and inspect the fence. Daryl to grab his motorbike and herd them out of the field for the morning. The other hands used the prized horses the boss had available in the stable. Helped them get their exercise. But Daryl was never a fan of horses. In honesty they scared the shit out of him ever since he watched one kick Merle clean across the room.

Placing his hat on the fence post that held his black helmet, Daryl strapped the helmet on tight. The familiar gruff and jingle of tags came to greet him from behind. Daryl smiled at the Shepard mix patting him on the head. "Morning, Dog." Daryl mumbled, starting his bike with a loud roar.

Rolling down to meet the others at the pasture head. His boss Paul Monroe who everyone affectionately dubbed "Jesus" due to his long hair and his status as the ranch owner's son, sat proudly atop his horse Citation an all white horse who batted the flies away with his ears carelessly. The ranch's unofficial veterinarian Dr. Hershel Greene sat atop Nutmeg a name fitting of her color and personality. The doctor brought along his daughters. Maggie and Beth who rode together on Maggie's stallion Deacon.

Daryl flicked off the engine of his bike to hear the others clearly. The two gentlemen seemed to be discussing the morning's plans.

"Well, how many square acres of pasture we lookin' at?" Hershel asked sitting back on the saddle.

"We got about 50 acres in this lower section." Jesus answered, readjusting his riding gloves.

"Well we only need the heifers and the new calves right?" Maggie asked, her body swaying along with Deacon's movements. Jesus nodded eyeing the pasture ahead of them.

"Yeah... problem is that we got a couple of heifers that are late to drop. So we need ta find them and round them up as we're tagging the new calves and rounding the mommas in fer a health check and milking." Jesus hummed in response.

"Lotta land ta jest be plucking a few from the herd." Hershel murmured. "Gotta good chance ta misplace a few and get 'em mixed up." The elderly man glared out to the pasture towards the rolling mountains as dark and broad as any thundercloud.

With a nod Jesus hummed. "When we bring the mommas in we'll bring the whole herd in." He hummed. "But I gotta plan. Hershel and I are gonna ride up the right side of the pasture. I'll take inside. Hershel can take outside to the corners and send the herd round the fence. Just keep them in line. I'll send some product his way. Daryl I want you to ride up the middle and flush them cattle out the middle by reving your engine. Don't hold back we gotta get all these cattle out of here into the holding pen for check ups. Girls I want you to do the same as your dad. Just go around the outside of the pasture. Check the corners and thickets there and once Daryl flushes the cattle out of the thickets in the middle keep them in line and keep a good head count til Daryl meets ya ta help keep them in line. We'll take a total count at the gate and round back if we need. Just keep your radios on and comms open in case we get separated. And remember if ya see a calf without a tag, take the time ta clip it with one or we'll be off count later."

Daryl nodded dutifully clicking on the Bluetooth radio connected to his helmet. "Think I can manage that..." He hummed a smirk playing at his lips, leaning on the handle bars of his bike. Who was he kidding? He loved this part of his job.

"Isn't what Daryl's doing a little... inhumane? I mean your basically trainin' them babies ta be scared of yer bike." Beth asked softly, holding her hand up in front of her face to the sky to block the rising sun from blinding her. An audible sigh escaped both Hershel and Maggie as their horses stepped along with their annoyance.

"Ain't like that." Daryl murmured offering a shrug. "I'm doin' these calves a favor ridin' round in here. Desensitizing them ta the sound of mah bike and the quads that are ridin' round the pastures. Helps ta keep them from causin' a stampede when their older or gettin' spooked so easy by equipment noise. Keeps everyone safe in the end."

Daryl nearly gapped at the way Beth rolled her eyes at him. Shaking her head distastefully. "Don't sound like much of a favor ta me..." She hissed.

The hell got into that girl? Daryl thought shaking his head, glancing to Hershel and Maggie.

The older of the sisters however patted her leg. The signal Daryl understood too we'll for We'll talk about it later. Flicking the engine on his bike Daryl sat up straight signaling to the others he was ready to go. With a flick of his wrist Jesus took off, Hershel following close behind. One glance back Maggie flipped the reigns to Decan, taking off towards the fence.

Pulling back on the gas Daryl took off down the middle of the pasture, keeping a close eye on the fence on either side. Coming to a small group of cattle he round them to the right towards Hershel. Eyeing them for any orange spots or new wobbly calves Daryl moved deeper into the thicket when he didn't immediately notice either.

Slowly he rode over roots, through creek beds, and muddy sloppy waters. Engaging his brake he revved his engine loudly. Leaning back on his leather seat Daryl watched as several cattle bolted out either side of the thickets he sat in front of. Dog barked and growled at his side rounding his bike protectively as cattle came too close for the mutt's comfort. Stepping off his bike Daryl slowly walked up to a calf struggling to keep up with his momma. Grabbing the tag clippers from his back pocket he grabbed the baby around the neck. Holding his frail body firm between his legs Daryl acted quickly, holding it's neck close as he clipped the ear with the GPS tag. All the while keeping an eye on the protective momma stomping around nearby.

"I see ya there momma..." Daryl huffed standing up straight and releasing the baby back to the momma. Watching the others head off towards the girls Daryl flagged them through a thin spot in the thicket. Hopping back on his bike riding on.

The sun was much higher in the sky by the time the group was done herding the cattle into the holding pens. Higher still by the time they had sorted out the mommas into the milking machines with their babies nearby to keep all involved safe.

Sweat glistened off Daryl's forehead. The icy early morning air had rapidly heated up to near stifling and muggy. Sliding the black helmet off his head the rider was more than happy to replace it with his much cooler hat. Staring out at the yearlings released into two separate corrals. Now so energetic and ready to raise calves of their own when last year they were so little made the man brim with pride. Even if he had very little to do with their raising.

"Hey there cowboy." Maggie's smooth voice called out from behind him. Turning with a smile to the young woman Daryl tipped his hat to her.

"Maggie." He greeted her fondly, leaning heavily on the metal fence.

"Thanks fer yer help today." He mumbled his eyes flicking to the hole in her overalls from where they both had wrangled a particularly feisty steer into a holding pen to get banded.

She shrugged her brunette hair held back by a black hair band was slowly falling out, the baby hairs that made up her makeshift bangs framed her sweat beaded face.

"It's no big thing Daryl. Never was." She hummed coming over to lean on the fence beside him.

Daryl hummed. Their friendship felt like it had lasted a life time in this world when it all was said and done. The two had known each other since they each were tikes. Merle brought him along with him to work with him. He remembered clinging to his brothers sweaty hand holding back tears as the sun set, the work day over. Hershel acted more as a father than his ever even attempted to be. The day his mother died, it wasn't his father that comforted him but Merle, Maggie, and Hershel.

Though the two got into their fair share of shit too. Maggie would drag him out past the creeks and streams on her property. Little pellet guns in hand they'd shoot at anything that moved, pretending to be in some movie Daryl had watched while spending the night at her place. Mrs. Greene had tanned their hides for scaring off the birds in her yard that day.

He truly couldn't ask for a better friend.

"So..." Daryl sighed, a soft smile on his face his eyes flicking to the fluffy clouds slowly crawling across the sky.

"Yer sister..." He chuckled as Maggie leaned into his side, slapping him across the chest.

"Dixon..." Her voice lilted, her mouth hanging wide in awe with a gasp of disbelief.

"You wouldn't believe a girl like her could be so swayed by a boy... but... by god she has been." Maggie sighed scrubbing her face with a laugh. Cocking a brow Daryl laughed alongside Maggie.

"A boy huh?" He hummed.

"Need me ta come lay the bastard straight?" He asked. With a soft shake of her head Maggie sighed swiping frustrated tears from her eyes.

"Nah... Tyler's harmless. Just a city boy is all..." She rolled her eyes. "Got her changing her major and transferin' ta the big school with him in the Fall." Maggie huffed. "She said she wants ta go inta politics if ya can believe that bull shit."

Daryl huffed a scowl falling onto his face. His eyes fell to the dirt below them both. Watching the bugs that scurried and ran across the crabgrass that grew in struggling patches across the trail he stood on. His nose scrunching in distaste he scoffed. "Girl sounds like she's chasing a dream that ain't her own."

Maggie hummed in agreement, her boots drawing mindless doodles in the dirt. "That city boy is only gonna get her hurt..." She sighed.

Glancing at her at her from under the rim of his his hat a smirk played at Daryl's lips.

"How's that city boy of yers treatin' ya?" He asked chuckling.

"Yer daddy know bout him yet?" Maggie huffed in response, smacking him across the bicep once more earning a roar of laughter.

"Take not..." Daryl hummed pulling his hat back over his eyes playfully.

"Glenn's just fine, Daryl." She answered curtly.

"But... no daddy doesn't know I'm with him yet... he don't need ta know yet." Maggie huffed. "He had a cow when I went ta prom with you. I can't imagine how he'd react when I bring Glenn home."

Daryl chuckled stepping away from Maggie so she couldn't get another well placed shot in on him. "Yer dad loves ya. He just don't always know how ta show it."

A comfortable silence hung in the air for a moment. Maggie nodding and chewing her cheek in thought.

"So how's your brother?" She asked.

Daryl scoffed, rolling his eyes and shaking his head he stuffed his hands so deep in his pockets he was sure he'd hit pay dirt. "Dumb as a sack of shit and just as useless." He growled distain thick on his face.

"That bad huh?" She asked, worry etched on her face.

A dark chuckle bubbled up from out of Daryl's throat. "Yeah..."

A shrill ear piercing whistle cut through the air catching not only Daryl's but Maggie's attention easily. Daryl pulled his hat back into place turning towards where Jesus stood high on the bottom rung of the fence waving at the two of them from a thousand yards away screaming his head off, though neither of them could hear him over the sounds of the cattle. Standing next to Jesus stood an unamused Hershel. His arms crossed firmly over his chest eyeing the two with a suspicious brow raised.

"Daryl!" Hershel's commanding voice called over the cattle and the equipment. "Yer ta go work on feedin' tha herd with yer brother!"

With a shake of his head Daryl shrugged at Maggie a deep chuckle emanating from his chest.

Speak of the devil.

"Duty calls, cowboy." She mused tipping his hat back. "You take care of yerself... ya hear? Call us if ya need anything." She said stepping into his chest to hug him tight ignoring the beaming glare Hershel sent their way.

"Easy now... yer daddy's bound ta shoot me yet." Daryl teased, ruffling her hair. "Ya take care too now little sister."

When Daryl finally made his way to the feed pens, having grabbed and downed a bottle of water first, he was unsurprised to find Merle leaning up against one of the support beams. Empty water bottle in hand he was currently using it as a spitter for the snuff he had switched to while he worked. Smokeable tobacco was forbidden in the livestock area of the ranch. Could spark a nasty fire and then no one would have a job.

"There ya are!" Merle chimed pushing off the beam placing the sloshing spitter down on the ground.

"Was wonderin' when you'd show up! Been standin' there and standin' there waitin' fer ya ta show up." He sneered. "Bet ya were off gettin' cozy with that little Greene girl again. Saw their truck here. Know you two have been real close."

Daryl rolled his eyes at his brother pushing past him to grab the first bail of hay. Not a word said to his brother. If Merle was affected, Daryl never noticed nor cared.

Tossing another bail of hay into the feed bins Daryl swiped his hand along his brow a drop of sweat slowly and easily tracing his temple down to his chin as he looked out the barn doors towards the pasture.

"See som'thing out there ya like?" Merle teased, scooping a handful of medicated grains from a metal bucket into the pens to keep the heifers from getting bloat.

"Nah..." Daryl sighed rubbing his hands on his jeans dust from the hay staining them a pale grey. "Don't see anything I like in here neither." He huffed turning to glare at Merle.

Freezing on the spot, Merle cocked a brow at Daryl. The scoop he had been holding feed in hanging precariously over the last cow's pen as they eyed it hungrily, tongues lapping and twirling in sloppy greed.

"Ya got a problem with me little botha?" Merle asked narrowing his eyes at Daryl, spilling the feed onto the cows carelessly.

Indeed. Indeed Daryl had several problems with Merle. He hated that Merle would show up to work late. He hated that he would be hung over and sick and claim he couldn't do his normal load but Daryl could pick it up. But most of all he hated that the bastard had a proclivity for volunteering him for damned near everything nowadays. Especially when he went around making things especially dangerous by fucking the one woman that could get them both fuckin' shot.

"Ya ain't say a damned thang ta me all day long and when ya do it's that horse shit?" Merle growled glaring at Daryl, finger flexing around the metal scoop dangerously. "You better fuckin' clear that attitude up right fuckin' now before we both have problems."

Daryl huffed turning his glare onto Merle he stayed still. His heart hammered hard and fast in his chest. Nostrils flaring as he paced across the pen.

"Yeah I got a problem... got a problem with yer fuckin' gamblin'." Daryl growled. He watched as Merle stood still a confused angry look on his face as he tried to put two and two together.

"Oh shit." Merle laughed shaking his head, his shoulders relaxing as Daryl rounded once more in the track he beat into the dirt of the barn.

"Is this 'bout that little cow ridin' gig I got you put into?" He whined a devilish smirk gracing his features as he strutted over to the metal bucket to drop the scoop back off with a final clang. "You should be thanking me for the exposure little brother... Them ladies will be crawling all over you by the time-"

"Nah... don't want that." Daryl hissed waving Merle off as if swatting a fly. The older man hummed not bothered in the slightest, instead simply nodding his head.

"Ya never were one fer that ladies... gotta wonder sometimes bout ya little brother." Merle sighed shaking his head.

With a roll of his eyes Daryl paced the width of the pen, honestly not hearing anything his brother said after that... he didn't give a damn what worried him and what didn't in his own dating life. Merle needed to get his own life under control.

But that Jaxson man... he gave Daryl the chills in a way only Merle's friends ever had before. He felt dangerous and the gun on his hip... just because he never wanted to talk to Merle again didn't mean he wanted to find him shot dead in the trailer one day...

"Hey!" Merle's rough voice pulled Daryl from his thoughts. Course calloused fingers wrapped tightly around his wrist keeping him from pacing further.

"Ya ain't still scared are ya?" Merle teased even if his voice betrayed the truth of his honesty.

"Scared a' wha'? Dying unsuspecting in the trailer one night because mah brotha couldn't keep his pecker to himself for one god damned night?! Yeah Merle I'd say that bothers me." Daryl hissed coming to a stop in front of his brother.

"Bein' impaled and trampled on ain't exactly high on my bucket list o' thangs I wanna do neither!" He hissed stepping into Merle's personal space. But, once again Merle didn't seem phased at all instead he shrugged a smile gracing his lips.

"Ain't nothin' you never done before... and Lou ain't gon' snitch on us. Her husband don't do tha thangs I do ta her so we ain't got nothin' ta worry bout." Merle said waggling his brows as if that would soothe Daryl daring to raise a hand to silently tell him to keep his voice down.

Daryl shook his head, pulling his arm away from Merle with a huff. Resuming his steady pace Daryl brought his hand up to his mouth, chewing the inside of his thumb.

"Nah... fuck that." He huffed pacing the small space between the feed cans.

"This ain't no steer wranglin' Merle. The goal ain't ta get them on the ground. Their goal is ta get you on the ground." Daryl hissed.

"Yeah but if anyone can-" Merle tried to counter a worried expression on his face.

"Eight seconds. One handed. That's the time I got ta beat ta fuckin qualify. Eight seconds of ridin'. Count it dip shit!" Daryl yelled, face turning beat red, slamming a fist into the can he stood near. The cattle in their pens screamed in retaliation to the loud sudden noise but in all honesty Daryl couldn't give a shit.

"There! There was eight god-damned seconds Merle! A blink of an eye! And that's how long I got ta stay on that fuckin' bull!" Meeting Merle's eyes Daryl watched a slow realization dawn on Merle one he wasn't sure he'd get out of his brother.

"And ta get any points I gotta make ridin't that bull in-" Slamming his fist down once more on time, he watched Merle jump at the sound, "that amount of time look fuckin good or else we won't get enough fuckin points ta pass inta the next round and win!"

With a swift kick to the support beam that left his toes aching in his steel toed boots Daryl growled low and frustrated struggling to catch his breath.

"Six seconds..." Merle muttered low and uncharacteristically soft. "Lou said it was six seconds cause it's an amateur ride."

Great. Just what Daryl wanted to hear.

Rounding on Merle, Daryl cocked back his fist adding more color to the shiner he created last night. "Yer a fuckin' prick." He spit.

Merle stumbled back holding his eye before falling flat on his ass.

"Wha- How am I tha prick?! I'm just tellin' ya what Lou told me!" Merle bit back glaring up at his brother. "I could let ya flounder on this little brother! I could jest tell ya ta suck eggs and find yer own way! But I aint gonna let ya do that!"

Cause yer hide is at stake too...

"Look... Lou offered ta let ya practice ridin' at her trainin' facility this week. That's why I had her over, Daryl... ta get in good with her and get ya practicin' at a real facility... so ya don't get on one of these tame bulls than get yerself kilt on them bastards they got in the rodeo!"

Glaring at the dirt Daryl chewed the skin of his thumb until he tasted blood and even he sucked it away to keep going until pangs of pain shot down his arm.

"Whatcha say little brotha?" Merle asked, slowly pulling himself off the floor.

Daryl couldn't hardly believe he was considering it... but what other choice did he have... He sighed letting his arms fall to his sides. "What makes ya think this Lou chick won't jest rat us out there?"

Silence fell like a heavy blanket on the two as they stood in the pen the cattle falling back into their routine, the tension still thick as hell between the brothers. "Dunno... but this is the best chance we got."

Daryl huffed glaring at Merle. "All cause ya couldn't keep yer damned hands ta yerself..."

[discountdemonwarehouse]

Birthday Gift Ficlet!

Happy birthday @copias-sewer-rat, I hope your birthday was good and that you enjoy your little birthday ficlet featuring Copia!

A little spicy, so 18+, MDNI, tiny bit NSFW under the cut! ~ 1100 words

Surprise Birthday Spankings

You’d returned home to find your lights on, the brightness shining around the edges of the blinds. You hadn’t left those on when you’d gone to run errands. Slowly opening your door, you called out. “Hello?” “Buon compleanno, amore!” the familiar voice called from your kitchen. (Happy birthday, love!) “Copia?” You smiled, heading towards the small kitchen. “Sì. I, eh, I wanted to surprise you. For your birthday.” Copia stood awkwardly in the doorway of the kitchen, a pointy birthday hat askew on his head, your apron covering his burgundy tracksuit and bearing a few tomatoy handprints. A smile tugged at your lips. He looked like a dork, but he was your dork. You leaned in and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Supper will be done soon, okiedokie? Go relax.” He gestured to the adjacent living room. “Put this in the fridge for me, please? Thank you.” You handed him the few items you’d picked up at the corner store to celebrate your birthday, expecting to be alone on the weeknight, but celebrating later with friends on the weekend. Copia peeked into the bag, spotting the microwave dinner, favourite drink and a six pack of cupcakes. He clucked his tongue in disapproval. “It’s a good thing I came to save you, eh birthday girl?” He smirked, making your heart skip a beat. You laughed a little, “Yeah, I suppose so. Are we staying in?” “Oh, sì. I want you all to myself.” “Wonderful, I’m going to get comfy then!”

Having changed into comfortable clothing, you settled on the couch and turned on some music. A few balloons floated above the coffee table, their colourful ribbons tied to a small vase of your favourite flowers. You didn’t even know Copia had known what those were, but his attention to detail put another smile on your face. “Put on your hat, tesoro. I refuse to be the only one wearing one!” Copia called from the kitchen. Your eyes fell on the coffee table, finding a ridiculous birthday tiara waiting for you, alongside the balloons. Reaching out you picked it up and put it on your head. “Is my principessa ready for her surprise supper?” “I am!” You answered excitedly. Copia carried out two plates, still wearing the hat askew on his hair and the apron. He presented the food with a flourish – raviolis in the shape of dinosaurs graced the plate, the dough dyed green and pink. “Rawr!” Copia said proudly, doing a little T-rex arms pose as he waited for your reaction. “They’re adorable!” You popped one into your mouth, the flavours bursting on your tongue as you chewed. You loved his cooking. “And also delicious! Thank you, Copia!” He fetched drinks for both of you, then draped the apron over the back of the couch before sitting beside you, cuddling up to you to eat. “Anything for my birthday girl.” He turned on the TV, queuing up something. “And your favourite  movie while we eat, hm?” “You spoil me,” you grinned.

The food eaten, and the movie finished, you were snuggled comfortably against Copia’s chest with his arms around you. Your birthday hat had only poked him in the face twice before he’d jokingly moved it to the side of your face, and you’d left it there, being equally silly. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I hate to disturb you, tesoro, but it’s time for dessert.” You shifted so he could stand, missing his warmth as he went to the kitchen. He’d turned out the living room lights on his way, and a short time later he re-entered the room carrying a cake with a few candles. His voice washed over you as he slowly moved closer, his mismatched eyes sparkled at you from behind the candles. “Tanti auguri a te… tanti auguri a te… tanti auguri felici… tanti auguri a te.” He set the cake in front of you on the table, sliding the vase and balloons away. “Happy birthday, amore. Make a wish!” You thought for a moment, making your wish, then blew out the candles, the only light left coming from the other room. “What did you wish for?” Copia asked playfully. “I can’t tell you, then it won’t come true!” You stuck your tongue out at him. He grinned at you, then went back to the kitchen for plates. The cake was your favourite from a local bakery, and decorated very prettily. You pulled out a candle, cleaning the icing off the bottom and savouring the taste. Soon you were both snuggled up again, eating your cake.

His hand drifted lazily along your back, your pieces of cake long since finished. “This is the best birthday,” you murmured happily, your cheek pressed against his Vulgari tee shirt, his scent teasing you. “Really? I’m glad. But it’s not over just yet.” You looked up at him. “No?” “No. I have one more surprise…” You raised a brow at him and he smirked, sitting up straighter. “Over my knee, amore.” “What?” you laughed. “It’s time for your, eh, birthday spankings.” “Birthday spankings?!” “Sì,” he said with utmost seriousness. “And a pinch to grow an inch.” “Oh, sure,” you laughed some more, slipping down over his lap, expecting a few light taps at most if he was at all serious. You did not, however, expect him to suddenly bare your ass to his gaze and hands.

He squeezed one ass cheek firmly, growling quietly with approval before that hand moved to press gently on your lower back to steady you. “I believe it’s one spank per year, sì? Count for me, tesoro.” He commanded softly. His hand fell rhythmically and solidly, first on one cheek, then the other, alternating. The sting was delicious and left your ass tingling warmly, stirring up other feelings elsewhere. You dutifully counted as he spanked you, interrupted occasionally with small gasps or moans at the sensations he was causing. Reaching your age, he stopped, rubbing your butt tenderly. “And your pinch to grow an inch!” You could hear the smirk in his voice as he pinched a tender spot at the curve of your buttocks, making you yelp. He laughed, pulling you up for a kiss. You could taste the cake and him, a delicious combination that was driving your need for him even more. He broke away first, resting his forehead on yours and his hands cupping your reddened ass. “Happy birthday. The rest of the surprise is in the bedroom, amore.” “The rest of it?!” You squeaked. He grinned devilishly in response. “You may not have grown an inch with that pinch, but I have grown several.”

~~~~

Happy birthday again!!!

[yeol-exe]

Leshaya from Abandoned Woods 🌲 (updated 28.03.2023)

*⋆⍋⋆☽ LESHAYA'S LOOKBOOK ☾⋆⍋⋆*

all bottoms are by @plazasims - ☾

[ 1 ] & [ 2 ] outfit tops are by @c-cerberus-sims-s - ☾

from left to right:

hat by @bellassims - ☾ | flowers and branches by @lady-moriel - ☾, ✟

mushroom hat by @bellassims - ☾ | coat by @kaguya-fox - ☾ | top by @pinkpatchy - ☾ | face chain by @eggu-sims - ☾ | earring by EA

mushroom witch hat by @okruee - ☾ | earrings by @dansimsfantasy - ☾ | necklace by EA (vampire pack)

hair acc - ☾ | necklace by @bustedpixels - ☾ | top by EA

5. lace bodysuit by @trillyke - ☾ | earrings by @druidsim - ☾ | hat by @lady-moriel - ☾ | redouté top by @miikocc - ☾

6. corset by @regina-raven - ☾ | princess gloves by @ikari-sims - ☾ | flowers - ☾

✞ other CC ✞

hair by @148dazed, skintone by @kijiko-sims eyes by @twisted-cat | nose preset @evoxyr | ears by @simbience | brows by @atomiclight | skin, face details, makeup parts by @sims3melancholic, @ddarkstonee, @plasmafruit, @thepeachyfaerie, @okruee, @sayasims, @cerberus, @crypticsim, @cosimetic @pyxiidis, @drosims | overlays by @miikocc | hairline by @obscurus-sims | nose highlight by @ohgerbits | lashes by @dream-girl, pointy teeths by @remussirion | nails by @pralinesims | tats by overkillsimmer | septum by @raggedy-rat! All credits to these wonderful CC creators!!! Thank you 🖤

[aldryrththerainbowheart]

Sharing Favorites

Fandom: Seven Deadly Sins

Character: Ban the bandit

Relationships: Ban x reader

You follow Ban through the packed bazaar, frantically looking for any holy knight that may appear in your vicinity. For a searched criminal, Ban sure did not make any effort to conceal his identity. The Boar Hat settled for a while in this harbor city and he dragged you as a helping hand to buy some ingredients. Thankfully, this time you convicned him to put a shirt on. So there you are, trying to keep up with his long-legged stride while you try to avoid bumping into anyone in the endless crowd.

Bans pace slows as the two of you pass by a crowd gathered around a single stand. He sniffs the air. All you can make out are the overpowering aromas of spices, roasted meats, and hot oil.

“…Well, I’ll be damned, Street cakes.”

The crowd parts, avoiding a brief glimpse of racks covered in fist-sized pastries in shape of small pie.

You finally manage to make your way next to him. “There’s this line this long for pastries?”

A baker swiftly wraps meat stuffing with some vegetables and sauce into the dough pocket and tops each one with sprinkling of spices. Further down the line, another baker tosses an assortment of baked golden-brown dumplings into paper sacks.

“I always liked the spicy ones,” sounded above you. You lifted your head towards Ban as he watched the stand with faraway expression.

When he caught you staring, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants with a huff, “I don’t know if they’re worth waiting around for…”

Despite his words, Ban’s eyes remained glued to the stall. The vendor moves in a graceful dance, swiftly taking coins in one hand, and holding out bags of pastries with the other.

It’s been ages since either of you ate something that wasn’t cooked by you. Why not get ourselves a little treat.

With that thought, you marched towards the stand. “What are we waiting for? Dumplings are for closers.”

Ban grinned at you, “I was hoping you’d say that.”

It took some time before you made it to the stand. The line was long but thanks to the bakers fast work, it moved quickly. As the two of you draw closer to the stand, the tantalizing scent of spiced meat and baked yeast fills your lungs.

“Ah, the smell takes me back.” He shuts his eyes and folds his arms behind his head, basking in the early afternoon sunlight.

You watch rays of sunlight play with his chiseled features, “Did you come here a lot back when you lived there?”

Ban cracks one eye open to peer at you.

“Hmmm…”

He seems to be carefully weighing his next words.

You chuckled, “Tell me, is it hard to always maintain this air of mystery?”

Ban shrugs, “can’t tell you everything about me at once, that’d be no fun.”

Then, he jerks his chin towards a distant section of the markets where fish stalls border the water.

“I lived back that-a-way when I first got here, down by the docks. I was a street rat. Used to be loads of ‘em around here, snatching coin purses, stealing anything not nailed down. Most of the peddlers hated us. But not one baker. Every now and then they’d leave us leftovers. The first time that happened, I ate over a dozen ice-cold street cakes. Still can’t stomach the pork ones.”

Per usual, you pay, exchanging a few silver coins for a small, grease-stained sack, and you and Ban sit under a green awning. When he peers into the bag, his face brightens.

He pulls one of the dumplings out of the bag and turns it between his fingers. The pastry steams in Ban’s fingers and wolf one down immediately, then he pulls out another one bringing it to his lips. He stops midway, Ban’s eyes shift to you and a sly smile spreads across his lips. He extends the treat towards you.

“Want to do the honors?”

You squint at the pastry. It looks innocuous enough, but something about Ban’s grin seems amiss…

You pluck the dumpling from his hand and take a bite. The cake itself is wonderfully crunchy and flaky. But the filling… It’s spicy. Incredibly spicy. In fact, it might be the spiciest thing you’ve ever eaten.

“No hesitation. Heh, impressive,” he notes with fake intrigue as he watches you get redder.

Ban’s clear amusement only feeds your determination. You chew through the white-hot heat. Even after you’ve swallowed the last crumb, tears well up in the corners of your eyes and the inside of your mouth tingles.

Ban smirks, barely containing his laughter, “So?”

It takes everything in your power not to fan your mouth.

“I canth theel my thongue.”

Ban’s laughter begins with a low rumbling in his chest that quickly boils over.

“Hah! I… I didn’t expect you to actually eat it. I take it you don’t want another”

“you’re the worst! I bet you ordered the spicy ones so you don’t have to share!” Your answer was another peal of laughter.

Your bitter glare sobered Ban a little. He clears his throat and holds up his dented, old canteen.

“Ah, water?”

After snatching it from his hand, you take a deep, shuddering drink.

Seemingly immune to the heat, Ban silently wolfs down the rest of the cakes before you two set off. Despite nearly searing off your tongue, you have to admit it was nice to follow Ban that afternoon as he showed you his favorite places in the place he used to call home. And it left you wondering if that was the main reason he took you to the market, not gathering supplies…

[macaroonsims]

Ever After High Legacy challenge

I'm pretty sure no one has made this yet, so here we go!

all heirs must be spellcasters, unless stated otherwise

it will only focus on the girls. If we did everyone it would get too long and confusing.

Rules are the same as always. Heirs can be of any gender, use cheats if you want. Complete all gen goals and aspiration, reach top of career.

birthday's are included in case you have an astrology mod

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Gen 1: Apple White, daughter of snow white

traits: good, self-centred, loyal

aspiration: leader of the pack

career: politician, leader/president branch

Birthday: may 13th

plant apples in garden,

white is your favourite colour

volunteer often

have an A in both elementary and high school

master logic and dance skills

have a pet fox named Gala

befriend wild foxes

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Gen 2: Raven Queen, the next Evil Queen

traits: mean, loyal, outgoing

aspiration: spellcaster and sorcery

career: criminal

birthday: 25th november

purple is your favourite colour

two familiars: a dragon named nevermore, and a raven (name is up to you)

have a dog named prince. When dog dies, get a pet rodent (rat) and also name him prince

have one child, afterwards marry someone (not the father of your child) who already has two kids

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Gen 3: Ashlynn Ella, the next Cinderella

traits: loves the outdoors, animal enthusiast, good

aspiration: friend of the animals

career: style influencer

birthday: 15th october

own a shoe shop called the Glass Slipper

have phoenix familiar called sandella

have a cat and a dog, and one of each pet rodent

have chickens, cows, llamas

complete bug, frog, and fish collections.

befriend birds, rabbits, and foxes

have three children: One, and then twins. The younger twin will be the heir

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Gen 4: Darling Charming, a somewhat rebellious princess

traits: bookworm, cheerful, active

aspirations: beach life, mt komorebi tourist, city native

career: writer, journalist branch

birthday: 11th february

have a dog named chance

have a dragon familiar named herowing

only have one child

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Gen 5: Madeline Hatter, daughter of the mad hatter

Traits: erratic, outgoing, foody

aspiration: bussiness

career: working at your bakery/business

birthday: 8th June

have a rat called earl grey

own a tea maker

keep a diary

wear a hat with every outfit

own a bakery

master baking skill

have a dragon familiar called crumpets

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Gen 6: Cerise Hood, the next red riding hood

traits: active, loner, loves the outdoors

aspiration: bodybuilder

career: athletic career

birthday: 31st october

be a werewolf

have an older half sister from your father's side. Parents aren't together and never married

have a dog called Carmine

plant cherries in back garden

Have nine children, including a set of triplets. Eldest will be the heir

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Gen 6.5: Ramona Badwolf, daughter of the bad wolf (optional generation).

traits: gloomy, loyal, active

aspirations: werewolf initiate, wildfang renegade

career: up to you

birthday: 19th of April

be a werewolf

join the wildfangs and become their leader

become an apex werewolf

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

Gen 7: Briar Beauty, the next sleeping beauty

traits: lazy, party animal, dance machine

aspiration: jungle adventurer,

career: gardener

birthday: 9th of august

only have one child

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Gen 8: Rosabella beauty, the next Beauty

traits: animal enthusiast, bookworm, ambitious

aspirations: bestselling author, friend of the animals, country caretaker

career: politician, charity branch

birthday: 4th of september

have a butterfly (part of the insect collection)

have one of each rodent, a dog, a cat, cows, chickens, llamas

befriend dolphins, birds, foxes, and rabbits

have bees and all bugs from eco living

have two children, eldest will be the heir

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

Gen 9: Elizabeth 'Lizzie' Hearts, the next queen of hearts

traits: good, self-absorbed, active

aspiration: freelance botanist

career: gardener, florist branch

birthday: 18th january

have a pet hedgehog

master flower arranging and gardening skills

plant roses in back garden

have only one child

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

Gen 10: Kitty Cheshire, daughter of the cheshire cat

traits: cat lover, goofball, mean

aspirations: chief of mischief, lady of the knits

career: make money by selling knitted things on plopsy

birthday: 24th may

always have a cat in your household

master knitting skill

have only one child

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BONUS GENS FROM NOW ON

Gen 11: Duchess Swan, the next swan queen

traits: dance machine, evil, mean

aspiration: master actress

career: actress

birthday: 30th april

have a lake stocked with swans

master acting skill

reach superstar fame rank

have a negative reputation

only have one child

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Gen 12: Courtly Jester, daughter of the joker card

traits: mean, goofball, active

aspiration: joke star

career: comedian

birthday: 11th January

master comedy and athletic skills

learn all mischief magic spells

have twins

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Gen 13: Poppy O'Hair, believed to be the youngest twin, is actually the eldest.

traits: genius, creative, loner

aspirations: painter extraordinaire

career: stylist

birthday: 19th june

master painting skill

use the vlogging station to film make-up vlogs

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Gen 13.5: Holly O'Hair, the next Rapunzel, believed to be the older twin

traits: bookworm, creative, genius

aspiration: bestselling author

career: writer, author branch

plant hollies in your garden

master imagination skill as a toddler

keep a diary

master writing skill

have a cat called Clipper

only have one child

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Gen 14: Blondie Lockes, the next goldilocks

traits: high maintenance, overachiever, outgoing

Career: writer, journalist branch

birthday: 9th september

have one of your outfits be a bear costume

use the vlogging station often

master coding skill

master writing skill

only have one child

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Gen 15: Bunny Blanc, future white rabbit

traits: genius, active, creative

aspirations: musical genius, bodybuilder

career: politician, charity branch

birthday: 21st January

befriend bunnies

become best friends with the flower bunny

favourite colour is white

master athletic skill only by going jogging/for a run

have only one child, but something happens and you cannot take care of them. They are adopted and raised by someone else

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Gen 16: C.A Cupid, the next cupid

traits: romantic, loyal, outgoing

aspirations: serial romantic, soulmate (in this order)

career: teacher

birthday: 24th november

attend every romance festival

complete the social butterfly aspiration as a child

read and write romance novels, and watch the romance channel often

never go swimming

only have one child

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Gen 17: Cedar Wood, the next pinocchio

traits: creative, art lover, proper

aspiration: painter extraordinaire

career: painter

birthday: 17th July

master painting and photography skills

befriend birds and have a bird feeder

make at least one of each wooden sculpture and master that skill

only have one child

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

Gen 18: Faybelle Thorn, the next dark fairy

traits: ambitious, active, self-absorbed

aspiration: chief of mischief

career: up to you

birthday: 16th november

have a fairy familiar

learn all untamed and mischief spells

be a cheerleader in high school

never date or get married

have a pomerenian puppy called Spindle

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Gen 19: Ginger Breadhouse, the next candy witch

traits: foody, cheerful, geek

aspiration: master chef

career: bakery owner/chef

birthday: 24th january

master baking, cooking, and gourmet cooking skills

have a gummy guppy called Jelly

have one child

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Gen 20: Nina Thumbell

traits: animal enthusiast, loves the outdoors, green fiend

aspirations: country caretaker and freelance botanist

career: eco innovator/engineer

birthday: 23rd march

be a cheerleader in high school

always recycle

live on a off the grid lot and generate your own energy

have a cat called rascal

dress up as a fairy for halloween

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Gen 21: Jillian Beanstalk, daughter of Jack from the tale 'jack and the beanstalk'

traits: adventurous, music lover, green fiend

aspirations: musical genius, outdoor enthusiast

career: civil engineer (eco green living pack)

birthday: 9th december

buy the brave trait in the rewards store

plant beans in back garden (jungle adventure pack)

have twelve children, youngest will be the heir

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Gen 22: Justine Dancer, daughter of the 12th dancing princess

traits: dance machine, creative, self-assured

aspiration: master actress

career: actress

master acting and dancing skills

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Gen 23: Farrah Goodfairy, the next fairy godmother

traits: good, creative, loyal

aspiration: spellcraft and sorcery

career: style influencer

birthday: 27th september

own a clothes shop

have a pet rat called Clydesdale

have a fairy familiar

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Gen 24: Melody Piper, the next pied piper

traits: music lover, dance machine, creative

aspiration: musical genius

career: musician/dj

birthday: 31st July

master dj skill

have a dragon familiar

keep a diary

have a pet rat called mousetro

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Gen 25: Crystal Winter, the next snow queen

traits: cheerful, good, active

aspiration: extreme sports enthusiast

career: up to you

birthday: 17th november

declare love for cold temperatures/cold weather

go ice skating often

master snow boarding and skiing skills

have an owl familiar

unlock the achievement polar bear club (go swimming when its freezing/snowing outside)

teach skiing classes

have two daughters, eldest will be the heir (Meeshel and Melody)

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Gen 26: Meeshell Mermaid, daughter of the little mermaid

traits: child of the ocean, music lover, child of the island

aspiration: beach life

career:

birthday: 2nd march

master singing skill

be a mermaid

live in sulani

befriend a dolphin

complete seashell collection

marry a human

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Gen 27: Lilly Bo Peep, the next little bo peep

traits: good, clumsy, animal enthusiast

aspiration: country caretaker

career: sell wool/eggs/animal products

birthday: 7th september

must have llamas, other animals are up to you

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Gen 28: Maisie Muffet, the enxt little miss muffet

traits: foody, good, cheerful

aspiration: master chef

career: chef/ice cream shop owner

have an ice cream maker

own an ice cream shop

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Gen 29: Helga Crumb, daughter of Hansel

traits: mean, foody, glutton

aspiration: chief of mischief

career: bakery owner

birthday: 27th april

master baking skill, be the owner of a bakery

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End of challenge! Ended up being reallyyy long, but if you follow it you'll unlock the alphabet legacy achievement

[quirkhopper]

This is Ozzie Michellie, better known as Top Hat Rat, the devious dastardly! He's an oc of mine and the main protagonist of a show I've always wanted to make, called "Top Hat Rat Pack". The basic premise is that by day, he's the charismatic owner of a hotel, but by night, he's a master thief who pesters criminals and cops alike, stealing valuables, dodging security, thwarting plots, and doing it all with style!

This is the first time I'm putting my art and characters out there, and I really wanna make it a reality. Tell me what you think!

[trash-monkey]

Isekai; My life as a wagon

Chapter 2

I watch intensely as the flickering light slowly approaches to here I see l am resting by the dirt road but I hear the unfamiliar language before seeing the strange sight coming into view, I recognize what animals they are from my world but these are large and walking on their hind legs like humans.

"Re'ew er'a oggin? Er'a ew oslt aagin? Si isth aord veen no eht amp?" A strident female voice falls from the mouth of a green frog wearing a large straw hat hanging loose on the back of her neck and carrying a old spear with care, I can see a thin tan clothed dress that stops at her knees which she have a lather vest top of it acting like a corset and she also has a metal chest piece loosely on top of it all while I can see skin tight short shorts underneath the dress to hide her modesty.

"Anc ti, Armosg! Woh ma I sppusoed ot gifuer uot erewh ew re'a fi ouy on'wt tel em Uoscf!" Another female voice answered back from the rat as her voice almost sounds dead but I can hear the warmth in it so she isn't totally emotionless and I can see she's wearing skin tight leggings underneath the long lime green tunic that have slits on the sides for easier movements which she uses a utility belt around her waist as a belt to keep the tunic a certain length to give her full movement while also give the tunic another modification of a hood, her feet are completely free expect for the soles I see on the bottom of her sharp claws free for fighting and climbing as her nails are sharp to which is why she's holding the map in her hands carful, all types of nick nacks she had skillfully made into a long string to decorate her tail, long dyed white hair starts between her nicked ears which goes down her back before stopping in a small braid to keep her hair together at the middle of her back, and can see a nose ring glimmer in the torch light in her pink nose like a bull ring while there's a simple quiver on her back filled with arrow as her simple bow sits on a hook that is on the quiver.

"Armosg, Iencepat aseple." A male throaty voice comes from a moose standing at 6'4 in height and although he looks thin underneath his clothes I can see the hidden muscles which I suspect the clothes are the standard clothes for beginner adventures what I gathered from what they're wearing and carrying, two massive antlers sit on his head which a small mohawk of brown hair sits as he has a large pack on his back with a massive old metal shield on top which seems to already have seen battle before from the dents and scratches but I can tell it's been maintain greatly.

"I t'anc ese eht amp ni isth ghtil os ew htmig sa ilhew ets macp ereh tilun normnig." The female rat sighs as she rolls the map up carefully.

"Heret's a gonaw! Tel's macp heret!" I watch as the female frog become surprisingly fast in her excitement when seeing me by the road and ran over to where I'm resting, immediately jumping into my back only to tip me over as I can't support her weight although it doesn't feel much but her movement didn't help much.

'Hey! Watch it! I may not feel it but I'm not unbreakable!'

"Hatw od ouy inkth, Tunro?" I hear the female rat asked not caring about what happened to their frog friend probably knowing she isn't hurt or they're use to her hyper energy antics.

"Meess oogd ot em dna ew anc seu eht gonaw ot ieldsh su ormf eht aord." I can hear the two strolling over as the female frog shots up off the ground.

"M'i ko!" She said before propping me back up onto my one wheel as I'm not that heavy for my size even though I'm wood and she begin to look at it when noticing it was the reason we had fallen over, I'm very tempted to move my one wheel to let them know I'm sentient but I'm also afraid they'll use me for kindling if I do.

'I really really wish I can understand them!!'

I yelled and cried through my mind as the three continues to talk as the female frog fools with me seems on trying to figure out how to get my wheel back on which is keeping her entertained and mostly quiet so the other two leaves her alone to do so.

'THIS IS A FANTASY WORLD, RIGHT? THEN LET ME UNDERSTAND, PPLLEEEASE!!!!!'

I once again pleaded but only to freeze when a screen pops up in my vision like a system that video games have, skill tree and all the stuff.

Translation

On Off

'Why is translation off?'

I give a deadpan expression to myself at the foolishness of it being off the whole time because who would have it off in the first place in a unknown world, I switched it on with a thought as I've read and seen Isekai's before so I know the jist of it when coming to the system but one thing is for sure each system is different so I don't know what mine can really do. For now I just very happy at having a higher chance of living in this world although I'm a small wooden wagon so I shrub my imaginary shoulders.

"Gamora, what are you doing?" The male moose asked as he stroll over to us when the female rat went to get for wood in the near by forest which the frog is using her webbed bear feet on my side as she takes a close look at the naked bearing of where the wheel is supposed to go, I can feel her webbed feet and hands are slightly wet against my wooden surface.

'Identify!'

I yelled after taking a deep breath hoping to have the appraisal skill I have seen and I'll even be happy with the bear minimum information, I do a quirky dance when a small screen popped up.

Gamora Yoth, female, 20, and is a Ain'eads (Hylidae Tree frog)

"Seeing if I can fix this wagon as it's in perfect condition despite the wheel is off!" Sh gets up from her sitting position to roll the wheel over to my naked barring and let the moose prop the wheel back onto the barring.

"We don't need a wagon." He trys to reason with her as he sticks the torch into the ground so he doesn't have to hold it any longer which I appraised him.

'Identify'

Ortun Xoxxaw, male, 18, and is a Nodian (Moose)

"So? We can take it and get some money for it! We can get a silver coin!" She tilts her head making Ortun sigh and although she's right it makes fear grab my heart along with excitement of seeing the rest of the world instead of being left to rot by the road, the female rat returns from the forest with a arm full of fire wood.

'Identify'

Tiza, female, 22 and is a Ghuk (Bandicota Rats)

"What has Gamora roped you into now?" She asked after dropping the fire wood onto the ground and crossed her arms.

"Selling the wagon once we find a town!" Gamora immediately defended herself playfully from Tiza poke at her which she goes back at getting my wheel to stay on properly once Ortun moves from it, Tiza just goes about making the fire with a playful eye roll.

_______________________________________________

[robbyrobinson]

Vicksburg

Chapter 1 

The town was abuzz with the whirring of cars and the ceaseless hustling and bustling of busy bodies so obsessed with their routines, they would unknowingly let life pass them by and miss out on the simple things. Several people chatted loudly as they crossed the streets on their way to work. Suffocating, black smoke from many a car’s exhaust pipe permeated the air and polluted the sky with clouds of smog. Rats scavenged for food and left trails of wet, goopy trash along the walking paths. The unsanitary conditions would lead to the spread of several pestilences leading to the town’s hospitals becoming clogged. A clap of thunder eviscerated the sound barrier accompanied by the steady drizzle of rain.  

I watched the town fade from view as I rode the public bus. As any who was familiar with this form of transportation could attest to, the bus was congested to the brim with several passengers all with varying characteristics and hygiene. Due to the tight, cramped build in the bus’s structure, many passengers were sandwiched together, some packed together like a can of sardines. And they certainly smelled like it too.  

Greasy, slimy sweat rolled down the forehead of a large, burly guy I was forced to sit by. He had sweated so much, his white, buttoned shirt was see-through. His foul, decaying stench wrinkled my nostrils with the urge to gag becoming harder to suppress. His whiskers were wild and unkempt. His eyes so wide, they could have burst from his sockets. When he stared at me, the best I could do was offer a lighthearted smile.  

“Well, good afternoon to you, sir.”  

He stared at me for a minute not saying anything. His discolored eyes peered in opposite directions as if he was staring into infinity. After nothing of note happened between us, I tried to focus on my trip. I held the handle of my briefcase with some hesitation. The town soon became a dot in my eye before sinking into the inky abyss. This was it. It was really it.  

I turned my attention back to the ride. To think this was the last time I would be seeing this town. Sure, it had one school, a single grocery store, and station, but it had its charms such as its park on the western side of the town. I gazed at the man beside me again, but he was still in his own little world. I tapped the handle a few times as I watched the passengers start to settle down into their seats. Those that could not depend on their handgrips. They stood there shaking slightly any time the bus made a stop.  

Even then, it felt like the bus was not even close to thinning out instead becoming more inflated by the minute. Every now and then, I looked up to see passengers trickling out. I did not know how they could handle being nearly suffocated by the claustrophobic crowds. It reminded me of the droves of people at auditoriums watching ball games. The air became hotter from the body heat and warm breath radiating from the travelers. 

 During the third stop, the heavyset gentleman finally left his seat and walked away without as much as saying goodbye. Not that I was intending on saying goodbye anyway, but it would have been thoughtful. A trace of the fat man’s putrid stench lingered in the air. I sighed to myself and plopped the briefcase on the seat. My fingers strummed the side as a twinge of doubt arose within me. It will be a couple hours until I reach my destination. Three hours give or take. The town did not have the best reputation, but my company insisted that I move there.  

“Pardon me, my good sir, would you mind if I sat there?”  

I shook my head clean of the thoughts and looked up. There stood a well-dressed man wearing beige slacks and an overcoat. He wore a matching top hat on his head and boasted a thin, brown mustache that twirled at the ends. He withdrew his hat and tipped it to me in a friendly gesture.  

“Oh, uh, sure. Be my guest.”  

 The gent elegantly found purchase on the seat and watched me fiddle around with my luggage. After what seemed like an eternity of him staring me down, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a business card. “My name is Jacques Skinner. Private Investigator.”  

He placed the card in my hand, and I flicked it around in my hand to analyze it. “Seems legit. What are you trying to solve?”  

Jacques smiled at me, revealing a small space between his two front teeth. “Ever heard of a man named Walter Bean?”  

Walter Bean. The name sounded familiar. I rummaged through my mind for a few seconds. “He was the owner of a furniture company, right?”  

“Aye. 68-year-old Walter Bean, a CEO and a family man, was the owner of a huge corporation. He was last seen two weeks ago. He apparently was looking to expand his business in the town of Vicksburg. But... well, after he made the business trip, he never came back. Which is where I come in.”  

My eyes widened. “Vicksburg? That is where I am going as a matter of fact.”  

Jacques’s eyebrow arched his interest peaked. “Really? That is quite the coincidence.”  

He withdrew a picture of Walter Bean. He was a slightly portly figure with a balding head and spindly mustache. Walter wore a red, 3XL cotton shirt and khaki pants. He had a half-grin on his face as he stood in front of his office. Jacques rubbed his chin and probed me further.  

“Why are you going to Vicksburg if you don’t mind me asking.”  

“Business trip,” I explained, “they said it was nonnegotiable.”  

“Perhaps. But I am certain you have heard of the story behind the town and why it is held with such disdain?”  

I shook my head. “I know that the town is worn down and practically a ghost town, but I am not afraid of any ghost stories.”  

He laughed. “Okay then. Legend goes that during the 1770s, the town of Vicksburg was once a prosperous place with friendly faces everywhere. People openly shared with each other, and no one was left without. A real utopia, I guess is the term.”  

I quietly listened to the private investigator as he further lectured me on the town’s folklore.  

“That was until there was a certain woman who grew up with nothing before marrying into a noble family. She was beloved by her husband, but she had one fear that is universal to everyone regardless of their status: the fear of death. So, she conducted research into the dark practices meeting an undead cultist who indoctrinated her into the worship of the gods of old. She summoned a demon from the bowels of the Earth to grant her the gift of eternal beauty and life. The demon fulfilled that wish, but it required sacrifices from the living.”  

“Sacrifices? Gods of old?” I stammered.  

“Are you telling the story, good man?” Jacques asked me somewhat annoyed but still smiling. 

“Sorry. Just got entrenched in the story. Do go on.”  

“One by one, the woman led her family into the Mouth of Hell starting with the servants and then her loving husband and their four kids. From there, more and more of the townspeople disappeared in thin air and in their place... well, let’s just say that demons are the residents now.” He chuckled to himself and returned the photo of Walter to his pocket. “Or that’s what I have heard.”  

My mind was awash with a surge of thoughts. “My... that is quite the story. And you are saying that Walter went to Vicksburg?”  

“Him and three more gentlemen as well. Either it was because they wanted to expand their businesses, or they were selected almost at random. The previous three had vanished for a few months now. It’s peculiar that they would all leave without telling their families that they should not expect them back anytime soon.”  

We talked a bit more about the missing cases. Much like Walter, some of the men missing were the heads of different corporations ranging from furniture to oil. They were all gradually lured to Vicksburg through whatever means and were never heard from again. Eventually, the bus made a stop and the private investigator got off. He waved goodbye to me tipping his hat once more. “Do keep me updated if you find anything peculiar in Vicksburg.”  

My eyes were glued on the man as he left the bus and continued his way without looking back. After he left the premises, the bus resumed its designation. 

Chapter 2 

The tires on the bus screeched to a halt signifying that it was my time to get off. I collected my things and exited the vehicle. The nauseous fumes spewing from the exhaust pipe wafted in my face and nearly knocked the air from my lungs as it sped off leaving me alone. One look around at Vicksburg and I could see why its reputation was not the best.  

The town was an ancient relic of the past: dozens of houses were dilapidated with speckles of paint chipping away and flaking off like dandruff. The walls had caved in overtime to where the roofs were barely hanging on by a thread. I passed by buildings that were scorched down to the wood and abandoned to the wrath of Mother Nature. Moss grew along the sides of brick walls and rats ran rampant through the streets. The cold, crisp air smacked me on the nape of my neck sending a shiver up my spine. The grass in the city was totally dead and blackened. Any scarce shrubs and trees there were, they were winding and fatally emaciated.  

I had arrived at Vicksburg at around 4 in the morning, so my best initiative was to find a place to stay. I walked down an isolated road with the slightest sense I was being watched from afar and anytime I tried looking in the opposite direction, they would scuttle off. It was hard to believe that anyone would live here, let alone that Walter and the other gentlemen would be compelled to come. Columns held buildings up but the slightest poke would make them crumble. Mud and other debris were flung on the windows obscuring me from peering inside. Almost as if they wanted it that way. The state of disrepair also extended to the roads and walking paths with spindly cracks scattered throughout. 

I traveled down the square of the town seeing several small businesses denoting some of the products you could expect to purchase like canned goods or bread. The light posts were faintly lit reminding me of twilight with the sun’s rays partially illuminating the atmosphere, a “perfect” combination wherein it was neither too dark nor completely lit.  

In the middle of the square was a large fountain with the sculpture of a scantily clad woman calling to mind those Roman statues. Despite being made from stone, her long locks of hair flowed in the wind. Murky, tarry water poured down from a pot she was holding. Upon a closer look, tiny hints of algae coated the rocky surface adding to its prehistoric state. 

After taking in the whole picture of the fountain’s condition, my attention became directed towards the hotel. As with the other structures, the hotel had seen better days having long since fallen into a decrepit state of disarray. Its name rubbed off the sign to where I could vaguely make out a few letters. The paint peeled away from the foundation giving it a hideous, ghastly appearance. Newspapers padded the windows and nasty smoke drifted from the chimney. There were a few areas where the bricks were punched out and smashed on the ground below. 

With nowhere else to turn to, I entered the establishment. The scent of decay slammed into my face like a sledgehammer to the head. So much dust accumulated on the furniture and doors, it shot up in the air. The musky debris made my nose recoil in disgust. Coughing, I scanned the surroundings. Two chairs with bare backs lined a shaggy rug that became green from the moss residing on it. 

Photos decked the walls some dating back to the 1800s and eroded over time due to the improper maintenance. I approached the service desk spotting a book on the desk. Heavy layers of dust coated the surface. I looked past the desk noticing copious amounts of cobwebs dangling from the bookshelves and ceiling. A small bell laid beside the journal. Weighing my options again, I tentatively pressed the knob. 

Ring, ring, ring. 

Hm. Nothing. I tapped my fingers on my briefcase and waited a few seconds. I rang the bell again after 10 seconds passed. Still no one stirred from the faint sound. I stared at my wristwatch seeing that it was almost 5. Perhaps if I was more assertive, I could somehow convince a citizen of this town to offer me a place to stay. As I turned to leave, I finally heard a commotion.  

“Good morning, sir.”  

I turned to the desk again my eyes beholding a peculiar man. Strange... I did not hear him walk behind the service desk and, judging by how sudden his appearance was, he practically manifested or, could he have been hiding on the floor the whole time?  

I internally understood people’s apprehension for the physical features of a Vicksburg citizen: the gentleman was pale, deathly so. His skin lacked any ounce of pigmentation, looking more like a reanimated corpse. Not one speck of hair was on his slick body with his cranium briefly illuminated under the faint light. His eyes, however, were the most jarring attribute: they were as black as a starless sky, darker than the pitch-black void. I was uncertain if it was a result of his pupils expanding to collect more light, or if his irises were naturally black. He seemed to notice my repulsion of his peepers, so he... tried offering me a smile.  

Except it was the furthest thing from a smile more a poor man’s replication of one. He possessed a row of sharp, jagged teeth that, when parted, only revealed a jet of inky nothingness at the back of his throat. He spoke in a low, guttural voice somehow sounding distant and yet, still close. He arched his head to the side, analyzing the subtlest of my movements. “Welcome to our town, sir.”  

There was nothing more that I wanted than to end the conversation and get the hell out of dodge, but where would I go? I tried to muster up as much politeness as I could. “I would like a room.”  

The enigmatic man’s eyes widened more. I felt that he was staring into the recesses of my soul and got his jollies from frightening me. “Very good, sir.” His long, skeletal fingers groped the journal.  

“How much is a room for the night?” I asked/  

“Oh, no need for payment!” he chuckled. Purple goo glistened on his yellow-stained teeth and landed on the desk. “You don’t have to pay a single dime.”  

“Really? That would be great.”  

Not once during our discussion did the gentleman ever blink. If anything, he would freeze up temporarily and just glare at me like a record that has the issue of skipping before resuming. His moved in a wobbly, drunken stupor with his knees buckling and jerking. Did he even have a pair of feet hidden behind the counter? He pushed the journal to me and handed me a pen.  

Once I opened the book. I immediately knew something was amiss. “Walter Bean?”  

The employee froze in place. “Ah, yes. He visited this same hotel. We like to keep their names and addresses for documentation.”  

“Well, it says that he signed this exactly two weeks ago.”  

“We like to record the names and addresses of our guests,” the man replied, somewhat forcefully. His tone sank to a deeper octave.  

“Walter has been missing for a long time. This was the place he was last seen, isn’t it?”  

The man leaned in looking at me with his black holes for eyes. “I assure you that you have nothing to worry about. For all intended purposes, we are not allowed to disclose our clients’ private information.”  

Drat. He was not budging. I could argue with him for hours and hours, but I was not mentally willing to do so. I shrugged and sighed in defeat. “So, just sign my name and address, right?”  

“Very good, sir.”  

I jotted down my signature and address and closed the book. “This town is... something else.”  

“Whatever do you mean?” he asked.  

“Just... in a total state of disrepair. Hardly any birds or other animals aside from rats and... everything seems so... bleak.”  

He chuckled again hearing my complaints. “You sound like you are starving for some entertainment.”  

Without saying anything further, he disappeared almost as quickly as he did manifest. Before I could question him on his sudden interest, he returned holding a flyer in his hand. “Tell me... are you alone?”  

“Alone? Why is that crucial information?” Normally I would be put off by that sort of invasive question, but I decided to play along. “I am single, yes.”  

The gentleman’s smile widened, purple fluid rolling down his mouth in thick layers. “Perhaps... this would be of interest to you?”  

He handed me the flyer. My eyes skimmed the piece of paper the words “Vicksburg’s Annual Mix and Mingle.” My eyebrows stretched in surprise. “A... dating game?”  

He jerked a bit, giving a firm grip on his arm. His frail fingers reached out for the flyer in hopes of reclaiming it, but his grip tightened forcing him to reel back. There was visible hurt on his face as if he was conflicted with revealing the occasion to me. He hissed under his breath before the internal conflict resolved itself. “It is a tradition we have here in our little town.”  

“And... is it the only thing to do here? Nothing like a movie theater or anything else that grandiose?”  

He did not know what I was blabbering on about. “Never mind. I’ll keep this in mind.” The tips of the employees’ mouth curled. “You won’t regret this.”  

With nothing more to say, he pulled a key off the hook and dropped it in my open palm. “Enjoy your stay, sir.”  

Nodding, I started the long ascent up the stairs. While I left, I heard a shrill voice whispering maliciously at the man. It was so low; however, I could not make out what the heated words were. Come to think of it, I didn’t recall seeing anyone else at the hotel.  

The wooden planks creaked under my feet while I approached my room. More dust settled along the rails of the stairs. While I waited for the man, I did sneak a peek at one photo that said the hotel was established 3 centuries ago. You would think that during all that time, they would consider some renovations. From the erosion over the centuries, large gaping holes formed on the floorboards threatening to swallow up any poor sap unaware of their presence.  

“Room 3.”  

I opened the door and in doing so, several cockroaches scuttered out. Peeping inside, it was a relieving sight to see that room, even though it was old, looked presentable. I settled down on the bed’s cover not daring to even see what was underneath. Later that day once I had settled in, I would have to meet up to discuss my business with the higher ups. While thinking about it, my eyes wondered back to the flyer and Walter’s disappearance. I knew damn well that the employee was lying through his mustard teeth. Thinking back, not only was Walter’s name and address listed, but so were the other men that Jacques had reported missing. All of them arrived at the hotel at some point only they never checked out.  

“I’ll contact the private eye soon.” As I settled into bed, my mind continued to whir at the thought of partaking in the annual dating game. Why was the man so insistent on him attending it?  

Chapter 3 

I let my curiosity about the dating game compel me to consider attending it. I did not expect much to come from it, but it should be fun. Besides, I could learn more about the town’s history and potentially gather some information pertaining to Walter’s disappearance. The meet up was in a large auditorium wherein several of Vicksburg’s populace were present. My curiosity slowly subsided when I noticed how every resident was draped in brown cloaks obscuring their pale, hairless bodies save for their hands. Their eyes were downcast and, much like the employee at the hotel prior, they moved in a drunken stupor with their legs knocking and wobbling about reminding one of those trapeze walks at the circus.  

It did not help that the lights were faint, making me bump into things. The raspy, gruff drones of the residents reverberated through the room sounding pained and congested the further they lumbered along. They did not pay much attention to me when I first entered the establishment making me wonder why the man running the service desk was so insistent on me attending. The building was also unbelievably cool but that was to be expected from the town’s ruined state.  

Rationally, I considered leaving then and there, but I ended up going along with the “dating game.” I sat at a table when the first option reared up. It was a rather short woman who leered at me with those same, unblinking eyes of coal. I giggled nervously in an attempt to break the ice. “So... uh... what are you interested in?”  

She opened her mouth letting a low groan leave her lips. Ooze dripped from her lips. “Okay... could I ask you a question?”  

The pale woman was too invested in a huge, hairy cockroach scuttering across the table. Before my eyes, she grabbed it with her open palm and took a huge chomp out of the insect. Her canines ripped clean through the bug, her lips parting as she stretched the roach between her teeth as if the roach was string cheese.  

“Thanks for the introduction. But... I have to respectfully decline. Next.”  

Another woman sat down this time being taller with a hint of moisture behind her eyes. “I was wondering if you know of a man named Walter Bean? He went missing in your town weeks ago.”  

The woman leaned in grinning. A mysterious fluid gushed from her lips when a huge smile spread across her face. Her eyeless sockets bore holes in my body. Her body trembled with pangs of hunger. “Heh, heh... he is here. With us. All are one within our god.”  

“God? What are you...!”  

Before I could probe her further, the woman lunged at me and pinned me to the ground. Her jaws unhinged and I peered into the depths of her mouth. Slimy drool dangled from the ceiling down to the base of her tongue. In desperation, I tried retaliating, but the taller woman was stronger. “Soon, you too will become part of our god.”  

I closed my eyes fully expecting her to bite me in the neck. However, a few solid seconds pass. I reopened my eyes seeing that the woman reeled herself back and clutched her head. “Can’t...hurt...” A shrill voice crawled out from the bowels of her gut making her upper body spasm. “No... yes...! No... get out of my head!” Her head bobbed back and forth with her fingers tightening around her head.”  

I became petrified, but now that she was distracted, I took the opportunity to knock her off. With one swift push, the woman fell to her side still in an eternal battle with herself. A mob of Vicksburg residents staggered forward and dragged the woman away. Gasping on the floor, I slowly collected myself. Coming here was a mistake. I was only here because of a business trip so it was in my best interest to pursue it. Maybe once I get that done, I could leave this godforsaken town in the dust.  

“Oh my... that was quite the experience, wasn’t it?”  

My eyes leered a young woman. What a sight she was. Blue eyes; a flawlessly silky skin complexion. A low-cut red dress and ample buxom. And a dark blonde bob cut with matching piercings. She strolled over to me and knelt at my eye level. “Welcome to Vicksburg, sweetheart.”  

She extended a hand to me and, with little consideration for my own safety, I took her hand. Her palm was warm and cozy to the touch. There was something about her that seemed... soothing. “We haven’t had that many visitors to this town in a while. Pray tell, why are you here?”  

My mind became a total blur. “I... um... I came here for business, yeah, that’s it.”  

The woman laughed to herself. Dimples formed at the corners of her mouth only accentuating her wholesomeness. I got up from the ground my eyes wandering back to the strange woman. “You seem... normal.”  

“Normal? Well, I certainly hope so, darling.”  

“It’s just that... the other residents here are... somewhat peculiar.”  

“Ah, that was my reaction to when I first moved here.” She looked me over, her smile widening. My name is Narcissa Witwe. Judging by your appearance, you must be the one who was invited to Vicksburg.”  

“Yes. My boss had connections in this town and had me come as a representative. Funnily enough, I never met him in person.”  

Narcissa nodded. My god, I fell further ensnared by this mystery woman. If I had to wager why that was, it was definitely her voice. Herred lipstick popped like precious rubies. Her plump, luscious lips were like hot butter with how flawlessly she spoke. I slowly forgot the horror of being nearly ingested by a psychotic woman. The more she talked, I felt myself falling deeper for her. “You... happened to be invited to attend this occasion?”  

“Why, yes. I thought it would be pretty interesting. Vicksburg has this as a tradition. I was honestly getting bored out of my mind, my dear... but you made this more fun.”  

I looked down and twiddled my thumbs. “So... you are willing to try this date out?”  

“I would love that.”  

We ended up talking for hours far past the time limit. Narcissa was truly an interesting individual. She had an extensive knowledge of the town and other subject matter. I found myself further wowed by her effortless recounting of historical events providing me with such an elaborate description, I was wondering if she witnessed any herself. She claimed to have family back in some city and was intending on returning there after the business trip. That infectious laugh of hers was music to my ears. I shared some of my personal information with her explaining the extent of my job and my interests. I have to admit that my eyes had a mind of their own. I gazed at her cleavage any time she bent. She propped her head on her hand and lovingly stared at me.  

“Come to think of it, there was something that I was curious about. Have you heard of a man named Walter Bean?”  

Narcissa squinted her eyes shut. “The name does ring a bell. Why do you ask?”  

“It’s just that he’s been missing for quite some time.”  

“Hm... perhaps he left the town and just neglected to inform anyone?”  

I shrugged. “I suppose so. Sorry to spring something that deep on you.”  

“It’s quite alright. After all, I am sure you heard of the rumors permeating the town?”  

I nodded. “Yeah, a private investigator told me of them.”  

Narcissa frowned. “It’s just so terrible, isn’t it? That a loving wife and mother would sacrifice her own family for eternal youth?”  

“Yeah, but it’s a story. We shouldn’t fret over some myth.”  

A smile canceled out her frown. “You’re right. Shall we... take this discussion elsewhere?”  

Chapter 4 

As my time in Vicksburg progressed, I met up with Narcissa more and more. Her cutesy yet mature, witty personality was her signature charm. She filled me in on the origins of the myth again with such vividness, it was like she was there. She expanded on Jacques’s relaying of information explaining how, according to ancient cults, there were once several inhuman, otherworldly gods that made the Earth into a festering cesspool and were worshiped by the cultists until the day the primal threats were sealed away in ancient tombs left to rot. That is, till the day they will arise and treat mankind as an insignificant bug.  

“As you know, there was once a woman who was so afraid of death, so she called on the gods to preserve her youth and gain eternal life. She wandered down into the depths of the Earth to beseech an Old One. And the god she sought out was none other than that Pale Beast, the God of the Labyrinth, Eihort. But, as with anything, there was a price to be paid.”  

I quietly listened. Who could have fathomed that there were so many hidden societies dedicated to worshiping these unknowable, eldritch beings, and for what cause? Are they obsessed with bringing about the apocalypse and practice their perverse religions to summon them? What ancient books did they have in their possession?  

“And you say that this woman found an undead cultist who gave her secrets to communing with Eihort? What did she have to do?”  

“Reprehensible acts that went against natural law and would damn her very soul to the darkest pits of Hell. She knew the secrets of where the gods of old laid dead and where they would once more trek. She uncovered the truth behind our known reality and peeked her eyes into infinity. With the assistance of that Pale Beast, she could even travel dimensions without the need of ever leaving home. Life itself was an illusion, a cheap replica of what eternity felt like.”  

My heart sank into the depths of my body. Cults. An ancient, primal god. My mind connected the dots back to when I first took part in the dating game. All the citizens of Vicksburg wore cloaks, something that I should have correlated long ago. That woman insisting that Walter and the others were all one in the god she worshiped. I had become ensnared in a tangle of webs.  

Screw everything. I had to get out.  

Narcissa stared at me her blue eyes reflecting her concern. “What’s wrong, darling?”  

“I... just feel a little flushed.”  

“You don’t have to lie to me. I can sense how uneasy you are about the cults I mentioned. But don’t worry; there is nothing to be concerned about. I am sure you noticed that the townspeople wear those garments. It is not what you think.”  

“Then... why do they wear them?”  

“It is rather simple; the people of Vicksburg have a weakness for sunlight. Tell me: have you ever seen any of them walking about during the day?”  

I thought back to my previous encounters with the townspeople. Truth be told, they were able to freely shuffle around in the auditorium because of an artificial light. Even the hotel I resided in was dimly lit. “Then... what about when that woman attacked me? She seemed... conflicted about it. It was almost like two halves were fighting each other.”  

“Perhaps a temporary bout of madness,” Narcissa casually explained, “besides, Vicksburg hardly has any outsiders visit their town; she was probably just overcome with astonishment.”  

I did not say anything to further rebut her. “I... am unsure if I should stay here.”  

Narcissa’s eyes lowered in a crestfallen fashion. It nearly pained me to see her upset. “Is that so?”  

“I have spent about two weeks here and I was never able to find the people who wanted to do business with me. To be completely frank, I believe that it was all a ruse to make me look like a fool.”  

The blonde woman paused and thought intensely of her next move. “If that is the truth, then I may as well explain why I am really here.”  

My curiosity piqued in that moment. “What happened?”  

“To tell you the truth... my life back home isn’t good. I... have a husband who is a raging alcoholic who would beat me unconscious every day he came back from work. If it wasn’t me, he would go after our two kids. One day, he beat me up so badly. I...” she paused, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I was in the hospital for three months. After that, I somehow managed to escape his wrath and ran away from home.”  

She covered her eyes with her hands and bitterly wept into them. Her breathing became staggered the more she let her raw emotions loose. “I know I shouldn’t have abandoned my kids with their father... it was a moment of weakness!”  

I didn’t know what to say at that instant. It was quite the bombshell I was handed. Without thinking heavily on it, I gently embraced her. She was startled at first, but she slowly melted into the hug, clasping my back. “I’m... so sorry to hear that.”  

“You shouldn’t be. It is not your problem to deal with,” she replied.  

“I’m planning on leaving Vicksburg tomorrow. If it is fine with you, would you care to accompany me?”  

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Are you sure? I don’t want to be a burden on you.”  

“No, you won’t bother me at all. It’s the least I could do.”  

Her smile poked through. “It’s a deal.”  

Chapter 5 

It was approaching nighttime when I returned to the hotel. I approached the counter and hit the bell. “Sir, I’m informing you that I will be leaving first thing tomorrow.”  

Much like the first time I arrived, the employee did not come. I tapped the dusty counter with my fingers in irritation. “Sir, let’s not do this again.”  

I allowed some more time to pass, but the man still did not show up. “Is that how you are to treat a customer?”  

Refusing to wait any longer, I climbed over the counter nearly getting tangled in cobwebs. “Bleh! Yuck! How can anyone live in this kind of condition?”  

From the way the lights were dimly flickering, I was forced to collect as much light into my eyes. As expected, the room was in total disrepair. Books were lying in piles beside the bookshelves. Webs coated furniture and tickled my nose. I fought the urge to sneeze. The floorboards creaked and moaned under my weight. The further I went, the light diluted into beams. “Sir, come out now. This is getting ridiculous...”  

Finally, my eyes settled on a heap of clothes. He couldn’t. Could he? The thought of the peculiar man parading around in his birthday suit was burned into my mind. A ruffling of the clothes knocked me out of my train of thought. I slowly advanced towards the clothes with it becoming evident that the man evaporated. Before I could theorize what happened to him, dozens of small white objects erupted from the clothing and scuttered around like cockroaches dispersing when a light is turned on.  

“What the?!”  

The millions of spidery, bloated beings crawled on the walls and up my clothes. In a panic, I scrambled over the counter the wet squelches of crushed younglings making me squeamish. Debris rained down from the ceiling as a sudden earthquake surged. I could have sworn I heard something writhing in agony from the bowels of the Earth. The foundation of the hotel shook incessantly and groaned with the death of each abomination suggesting a possible link between the two. The stairs finally dissolved and exploded into splinters.  I covered my head as best I could, but the monstrous arachnids kept pursuing.  

Squish, squish, squish.  

The wet, gooey bodies of the monsters popped under my feet like overripe grapes. I had the sinking feeling some of the residue getting between my toes. Eldritch ooze clung to the soles of my shoes restricting my movement. Each time I tried to move, the runny, stringy substance came into contact with the floor and formed a strong adhesive.  

And those legs. So many legs. Hundreds of thousands of marbles with an unnatural number of appendages crawled on my body. They creeped their way up my pants legs, with some slithering beneath the fabric. No matter how many times I tried to bat them off, these abominations latched on my body. The hairs on my body rose on end from the impression that I was being licked by the millions of spiders. My skin felt violated from the endless probing and pinching. I grabbed my ankles and continued my mad attempt to free myself.  

“H...help...”  

A faint, weak murmur caught my attention. I darted my eyes back and forth in search of the scream of urgency seeing no one until I directed my sight to a hideous event. The white, pulsating blobs with stalks for legs linked the innumerable limbs together in huge, grotesque lines and did the most harrowing of things any sensible man could anticipate they started to move in a single motion multiplying and expanding until... something ghastly was taking form.  

The gunky paste on the soles of my shoes finally gave way. However, when combined with the invasive pests crawling all over me and making me squirm, I fell on my rear. The monsters kept feeding into the growing figure. Much like a well-oiled machine, the beasts kept feeding themselves into each other. “Help...”  

With all of the beasts working together, a human shape came to being. They moved in a swimming motion shifting their icky legs to a side to mimic the gesture of limbs. The dread welled up in the pit of my stomach and crawled up my throat. The insidious spawn multiplied further, breaking apart and restructuring themselves until a vaguely humanoid shape took form. However, its skin became melty and ran like a lit wax candle. 

My eyes became blood shot. It was the employee. Except now, it was clear to me that what I was speaking to in my entire stay in Vicksburg were millions of blotches who hardly could pass themselves off as human. The piercing assaulted my ear drums calling to mind a nail scratching a chalkboard. The man, nay, the creature, moved about miserably dragging its upper body along the floor. Its mouth hung agape with a hazed wheeze spewing out. Almost every slight movement brought unending suffering for it, it seemed.  

The humanoid anomaly held out its hand to me, gesturing in a hopeful fashion. It jerked itself closer to me, moaning and shuffling just to stay in its form a bit longer. I became frozen temporarily horrified at the unholy display which violated the laws of nature that every being under the sun had to follow. The hotel continued to collapse around us shaking me out of my terror. I slowly backed away from the monster, but it somehow sensed what I was intending to do and clawed its way towards me. It hissed at me, destroying the illusion it was desperately clinging to.  

Before it could strike, a plank fell from the collapsing ceiling and pinned it. It let out a high-pitched, hellish shriek, but there was no way I was going to humor it. I rushed to the door, the wet squelches of the broodlings I had killed echoing.  

Chapter 6 

I succeeded at escaping the hotel as it suffered its final death throes and went up in a heap of primeval dust. As it cleared, all that was left of the establishment was a pile of bricks and smoking debris. My mind was still wrapped around the surreality of the situation. The pale, hairless appearance of the man. All the residents of the town’s bizarre skin complexions. How that woman fought herself when she was deciding whether to eat me or not. None of them were humans but arachnid, hideous carbon copies that struggled to be approachable. I shook my head. Whatever the case, I had to leave Vicksburg, but not before taking Narcissa with me. After all, I could not live with myself if I knowingly abandoned someone in this wretched town.  

High-pitched screams filled the empty air alerting me. Crap. More of the “neighbors” are coming, obviously because they heard the collapse of the old building. Without much contemplation, I hid in the alleyway and bit my lower lip. Their gravely, guttural voices were like waterlogged bodies with their constant squelching and damp noises.  

Cautiously, I peered from a corner of an abandoned store seeing four cloaked Vicksburg citizens staggering on their legs. If only I could decipher what they were saying to each other only for curiosity’s sake. As they chatted, one of the hooded figures stopped and slipped his hood from his bald head. I heard what sounded like mandibles clanging on each other when I noticed he was getting closer.  

I backed further into the alleyway out of concern that he had seen me. The hissing reached its apex with his long, spiderly fingers scraping the edge of the building. I shimmied down to get as close to the ground I could. Even though it was nighttime, the creature’s glare burned holes in the back of my head. He entered the alley sliding his appendages in the dark void. We were so close; I smelled his pungent breath.  

Eventually, something else caught his attention and he left with his group. I wiped the sweat off my brow and sighed in relief. With them distracted, I could make my escape attempt. However, before I could continue the next phase of my plan, a feminine voice echoed through the streets. My eyes widened in shock.  

“Narcissa!”  

I peeped from behind the dilapidated wall and almost doubled over. Narcissa was captured by the Vicksburg anomalies with her distress. Her arms flailed around with the feeble hope of striking one of her threats. I... had to do something. But what could I do?  

I rummaged through my mind for a solution, but Narcissa’s screams were making me anxious. Swallowing my pride, I sprinted towards the assembly and balled my fists. I swung wildly in the air smashing my knuckles over and over their gelatinous mass felt like I was punching raw meat. 

The more I railed against them, the Vicksburg anomalies gradually lost their corporeal forms and disintegrated exploding into millions of skittering spiders. Narcissa glared in absolute horror upon seeing these humanoid beings dissolve into pulsating, rampant marbles on thousands of stalks. 

“What… is this?” 

There was no time to explain. I grabbed her wrist and urged her to move. Her warm, silky hand felt amazing to grope, but I threw that thought to the back of my mind. My heart galloped behind my chest my breathing became taxing. My lungs wheezed and buckled beneath my rib cage. The sound of thousands of bony, fleshless legs scraping the ground reverberated on the streets. “Everyone… in this town… all those monstrosities link together mimicking the basic movements of the human body.” 

Narcissa shared an equal look of dread. “What should we do?” She grasped my arm and squeezed up against it. Her soft breasts felt amazing around my wedged arm driving me crazy. Her warm breath sent a chill down my spine. Even when she was being terrified, that statuesque glare of hers made her impeccable.  

“We have to find a place to hide and wait for things to blow over.” 

The blonde woman scratched her head. “If we are looking for a refuge, I know just the place.” 

Chapter 7 

I let Narcissa lead the way happy that she knew the layouts of the town. Throughout the whole secretive walk, we did not speak a word to each other. The air around us became thick enough to slice with a knife. After about two seconds into it, I tried to break the ice.  “So... we have been traveling for a while, haven’t we?”  

She did not respond. That night was especially breathtaking. The moon was in close proximity to the Earth resembling a polished full moon. Narcissa used the light radiating from the celestial body and led me further away from the town and into the rough thickets of the woods. The forest was completely bereft of noise. No owls screeched in the night; if there were crickets, they were deathly silent. Narcissa gently tugged my arm deeper in the neck of the woods until we stopped at a cave.  

At the entrance, Narcissa withdrew a torch and lit it. She then beckoned me inside. I was not thrilled to be entering into a dreary, claustrophobic area, but those cultists could still be on our track. Soaking in my fears, I entered the cold and dreary cave. A pungent, repulsive smell, that of decaying matter, drifted from the entrance. The odor of ages long pass was not lost on me. I stared at Narcissa wondering how she was holding up, but she was unbothered. “Let’s go. We don’t have much time to waste.”  

She flicked her finger through her bangs before leading me further into the maw of the cave. It was silent aside from our footsteps and the soft dripping of moisture in the distance. Water sparkled on the stalacites like beads of diamonds and trickled into an underground pool. I confused the stalagmites for razor, jagged teeth from the erosion over the years. Behind us, the entrance disappeared into the void as shadows encased us. The wind whistled into the cave adding onto the ambiance. If... I was being accurate in my description; I could have sworn I heard the cavern breathe.  

And the cavernous walls appeared to twist and contract like a living creature.  

My paranoia became flared. I wanted nothing more to leave, but the exit was nowhere to be seen. Besides, if I left on my own volition, I would have become stranded and made to wander in the dark until the end of time. My breathing hazed and goosebumps flared on the surface of my skin. Fluid fell on my shoulders from the stalacites making me wriggle in displeasure. Eventually, Narcissa led me to an opening. “What is this place?”  

Narcissa didn’t reply, merely goading me in with her finger. Seeing no reason to doubt her, I entered the area. The secret location was decked in heavy sheets of cobwebs which dangled down from the ceiling. It was also inexplicably damp and the disgusting, putrid scent of decay was even more prominent. My eyes settled on discarded skeletons with their wrists restrained in chains protruding from the walls. They were likely down here for centuries judging from their aged, worn features. Whatever they had witnessed, they died in total fright. Their lower jaws were stretched as far as humanly possible to where they became unhinged. Over the years, the only thing keeping them suspended was the webbing.  

The more I soaked in my surroundings, I became aware of the purpose the location served. There was a huge slab situated in front of a bottomless pit at the base of the cave. Arms made from wedges of stone stretched from the structure. Dried blood and viscera were stained on the flat surface of the instrument. I desperately looked at Narcissa with the hopes she was as confused as I was.  

However, instead of a detection of fear... Narcissa’s facial expressions shifted to one that was apathetic to the whole thing. I watched her stride over and light a crucible underneath the stone slab. The gaseous, nauseating fumes wafted in the air smelling like rotten flesh and scorched ashes. Her once beautiful, hypnotizing eyes transitioned to a pale blue as if her energy was sucked from her body.  

“Hundreds of years ago, the great Old One Eihort first manifested in the town of Vicksburg. This cave is the exact place that, according to folk tales, a woman who came from an impoverished upbringing, made a deal to the gods for eternal beauty and youth.”  

“Narcissa? What are you suggesting?”  

I felt a wet, slick object grasp my shoulders. The cultists’ voices gurgled and wheezed. Before I could try to fight back, two of the worshipers lifted me off the ground and directed me to the stone slab. I kicked and thrashed. I flailed my arms around. Nothing happened. They tossed me on the hard surface with such force I felt my spine buckle. My wrists were tightly tied to the arms of the instrument, the ropes ate into the tender flesh.  

Narcissa stared at me for a few seconds. She was no longer the woman I thought I knew for a duration of my stay in Vicksburg. She strolled over, kneeling and staring at the primitive skeletons. “And once again, my god will have a sacrifice.”  

Sacrifice? The word bounced around in my head. Everything was happening so fast. “You... know an awful lot about that myth.”  

She laughed. “Well, yes... after all, how old do you think I am?”  

I strained against the tight binds to no avail. “The town and its conditions. It was always you.”  

“Hundreds of years ago, the town of Vicksburg was once a prosperous area. It was a massive trading town where corn, pumpkins, fabric... you name it were traded and sold. I was born to a poor family, but I was considered the fairest of the town. Of those a nobleman took a liking. After meeting him on several nights, he popped the question to me. And, I said yes.”  

I grunted under my breath. “Then why did you betray your own family?”  

“What do you think is the one fear that all humans share?” Narcissa asked, though it was clear she did not care what my answer was. “Death. Humans have had several accomplishments when they crawled out from the festering, primordial cesspool. And yet, despite all those achievements, the one thing that they failed to conquer was death.”  

She casually pried the skull off a skeleton and flicked her fingers through the jawbones. “I knew that one day... I would die. But... I couldn’t live with that harsh truth. Not someone who is as gorgeous as me!”  

Narcissa tossed the skull aside and spoke to the cultists. “You think that you saved me from earlier? Don’t you realize that the people of Vicksburg follow my commands?”  

“So... then that means Walter...”  

Her eyebrow perked. “Is dead? That should be obvious. I thought you of all people would be more intuitive. He was but a sacrifice. One I lured.”  

“That explains why I was told to come here... so the dating game?”  

Narcissa hushed me. “A ruse, sweetheart. How else was I supposed to meet up with you?”  

The cultists backed away from me and collapsed on their knees in a praying stance.  

“My fear of death became so great; I called on the God of the Labyrinth to grant me eternity. Which he did. However, I had neglected the fact that Eihort himself had his own terms. He asked me to foster his brood. Not thinking much about it, I accepted. They are squirming around within me as we speak in a larval state. But... once I realized his brood would eat their way out of my body, it was then that the truth became clear. He merely extended my lifespan, but in order to avoid missing his quota, I had to resort to drastic measures.”  

“Your husband and kids... how could you...”  

“Necessary sacrifices. After them, I did the same process to the rest of the town. Some would go missing for weeks locked away in my lair with their bodies being dissolved and eaten from the inside out. Curiously, the Broodling acquired memories of their hosts sometimes effortlessly mimicking their voices. I saw that happen with a young, 32-year-old I lured. The Broodling demonstrated mannerisms he himself had. Perhaps when a host perishes, they are never truly gone but exist as bodiless spirits attached to the Broodling.”  

It made a considerable amount of sense despite the bizarre nature: the hotel worker and the woman he met at the dating game. Their essences were still present within these anomalies, and they were crying for release. Narcissa cleared her throat and walked over to caress my cheek. “Shame... you were really nice.” She chuckled again. “Eventually in my haste to stay alive, I accidentally destroyed the town. I tried any solution I could think of like introducing interbreeding among the Broodling, but after a few centuries, that was not enough.”  

“What... are you getting out of helping an Old One? You know the risks these unspeakable monstrosities have for the Earth.”  

“The God of the Labyrinth shall once again be free to rule this world. I intend on becoming a lower royalty once the ancient crypts are opened. I already have served Eihort faithfully as his high priestess for centuries. I am not some lowly, weak, insignificant human. I have ascended to godhood, and I believe I deserve my dues. Wouldn’t you?”  

My eyebrows furrowed. “After I comforted you about the abuse you suffered....”  

“You BELIEVED that story?” Narcissa’s chuckling became louder and echoed throughout the cave. “Gods... you are as pathetic as all those other humans who I tricked into loving me.”  

I snarled. “You’ll never get away with this. I will escape and tell Jacques all about what I learned. This town will be demolished faster than you could even blink.” 

Narcissa’s grin stretched around her ears. “Need I remind you that the Broodling follow my commands because of the spawn that are swimming in my stomach? Through Eihort, I have eyes all over the scope of this world. Let’s just say he was paid a very special visit.” 

I wanted to say more, perhaps call Narcissa every name under the sun, but I froze when a series of tremors shook the cave to its very core. Narcissa maniacally snickered at me relishing in how utterly defenseless I was. “Now... time for you to make the choice so many before you have.”  

My fear bubbled from the deepest regions of my stomach, but there was no one present who could help me. The ceiling quaked as a series of cracks formed. Stalacites of varying sizes crumbled and fell around me. It was as if legions of freight trains collided all at once in a massive collision of biblical proportions.  

Chapter 8 

And then... I caught a glimpse of those... legs... hundreds of thousands of rigid, bony legs rose out of the hole, scraping and clawing the ground for leverage. Larger than a public bus. Beads of sweat trickled down my forehead, the color drained from my face. Eyes upon eyes where such features should not reasonably be. Peepers so horridly massive they eclipsed the eyes of the largest known species on this planet. Its pale, gelatinous mass bubbled to the surface resembling a disgusting, pus-filled pimple and its abdomen. Good god, its abdomen. It was shaped like some overgrown olive with eyes bulging all over every surface of its great body. The God of the Labyrinth towered over me with his unholy glory.  

My blood ran cold, and I was at a loss for words. Eihort moved in an abnormal, hypnotizing motion, swaying back and forth with nary a bone to be found on its gelatinous build. I immediately understood what Narcissa meant when she said she had eyes throughout the world: the multi-legged abomination’s “labyrinth” expanded across the globe granting it the illusion of being omnipresent. At any time, some hapless sap could end up lost in the cavernous walls and encounter this Old One. It unnerved me how easy it was.  

Narcissa cackled, her smile becoming more twisted. “I have done what you have requested of me, my god. Please, bestow me with your blessings!”  

Eihort shifted its many eyeballs to what I assume was his chest. It spoke with the same gravely, gurgled voice its offspring shared. Its voice... was not what I was expecting for a creature as huge as a boulder. Its tone was distant, bizarrely cordial. Despite its terribleness, the Pale God was patient. Unspeakably so.  

“I’m afraid you misunderstand, mortal. Your time as my high priest has reached an unfortunate end.”  

Narcissa’s eyes widened in horror. “But... my lord...! Have I not faithfully served you for centuries? I have provided you with the best sacrifices to meet your quota!”  

“You are such an insignificant, incompetent waste of filth.” Something shifted within Eihort’s indescribable mass stretched and twisted indefinitely into itself forming a colossal fist. “You have forgotten your place, human. You may have an extended life in comparison to the rest of your kind... but you also forget who it is who can take it away.”  

Narcissa clasped her hands together in deep prayer. “No, Eihort, please! I am sorry for speaking out of turn! Please, let me serve you for eternity! I will kill whoever I have to in your name if you jus-!”  

Without warning, Narcissa keeled forward grimacing. Her eyes bulged upon the realization of what was happening to her. Dozens of Eihort’s brood squirmed and wriggled from within her body ruffling her outer skin. She clutched her midsection between her arms letting rip a haunting, agony-filled moan. Yet, no matter how much she begged, her desperation fell on deaf ears. Narcissa’s face contorted into a twisted scowl with ludicrous tears streaming down.  “No... my lord....”  

A deathly cough started to choke her out. Gagging profusely, streams of white, spindly critters wriggled free. Her eyes disintegrated as the insidious creatures chewed their way out. Her sobs of pain transitioned to wet squelches and tearing of flesh. The brood slashed their way through her lungs and turned them to slush along with her other vital organs. Narcissa’s once glamorous, flawless skin bubbled and popped as thousands of spawn made a mad dash. Even her skeleton dissolved into more nutrients for the hungry infants. Within three agonizing moments, Narcissa was gone. All that was left of her were her favorite dress and ear piercings.  

I struggled to breathe after being bare to witness Narcissa suffer a form of divine punishment. However, I faced the horrific reality that I was now alone with her murderer. Eihort’s arm twisted and shifted, moving from one side of his body to the other as if he was contemplating when an appropriate time was to drop its mass on me. Its myriads of eyes settled on me. Even without the Old One talking, I knew how lowly he thought of me.  

“Fear not, my dear human” it whispered. Once more, its voice sounded soothing, but I realized that it was not because of true benevolence but rather manipulation. “I shall give you an offer, and I am certain that you will not choose poorly.”  

Everything that I thought I knew disappeared in an instant. We, as humans, were so convinced of our place in the universe, but there existed things, horrible, reality-breaking things. Things that no one of sound mind should fathom or search for truly existed. We are but a speck of dust in the grand scheme of things, and the Old Ones thirst for release.  

“You will gestate my brood. Otherwise... I have no further use for you.”  

My lips were dry. I... did not know what I should say at that moment. My options were limited considerably: should I agree and allow Eihort to gestate me with his offspring, I don’t think I would be getting off that easily judging by what happened to Narcissa. But...seeing that titanic fist hovering above me, swinging back and forth like a pendulum, was also a situation I wanted to avoid at all costs.  

“Unless... you wish to become my Chosen?”  

“Chosen?” My mind worked into overdrive to comprehend the offer. That must have been what Narcissa was. If so... if that entails sacrificing the life of someone else for my own safety was not only an irredeemable act, but also very cowardly. After mulling it over, I came to a decision. 

“I think I know what I want...”  

[blackjackkent]

OK, I did just remember there are two other small things I wanted to complete so I'm gonna do those before heading off to Ansur.

First is finding the remaining Dribbles Bit that I'm missing. (I've been told the reward for this is pretty meh, but I wanna see what Lucretious does when you finish, and also I've been enjoying the Throne of Bhaal throwbacks in all of Orin's tableaux.)

The other is helping out the Guild in the Undercity, since when we rescued Minsc, we caught him (as the Stone Lord) engaged in talks with Roah Moonglow to have the Zhentarim turn on Nine-Fingers. We'd like to stop this from happening - primarily because it means putting a crimp in an Absolutist plan, but also because we have reason to believe Nine-Fingers was looking out for Jaheira's kids while all this craziness has been going on.

Dribbles first:

Apparently the bit I was missing has been hiding in plain sight all along, all the way back at the Circus of Last Days, where it's chilling on a table next to the kobold merchant named Popper.

Kind of not sure how I missed this in retrospect.

It's marked as a stealable item but I completely forgot to stealth to pick it up, and Popper got irritated.

"OI! Give that back! It's my special hand!"

I love his little top hat.

"What makes this hand so 'special'?"

"I founds it by the clown man's tent! Fought a rat for it and everythings. Hueh. It's a one-of-a-kind hand with artisanal bite marks. It's worth LOTS."

He wants 10k gold for it lol.

[PERSUASION] "I think that belongs to Dribbles," Hector points out, somewhat tiredly. "I need it. Your ringmaster needs it."

The kobold sighs dramatically. "All *right*. Mama Lucretious says we family. S'pose that means Dribbles was too. 'Ere. But don't tell nobodies I gaves it to you for free. Gotta protect my reputation as a tough businesslord."

Success. Full clown body acquired; off we go to Lucretious.

"Hello again, my vicious little warrior. Any luck finding Dribbles."

Hector completely missed the flirtation last time he and Lucretious talked, but not this time, and he blushes a little, even as he hands over a sack full of mutilated clown parts. "This is every part of Dribbles I could find."

"Oh, perfection!" Lucretious says excitedly - which Hector reflects is probably the first time anyone has said that about a sack full of mutilated clown parts. "This is just what I need. His flesh has a few rat bites, and his teeth are missing, but these are minor issues. I shall remake Dribbles better than before - where once he was famous, he will now become legend!"

She reaches into a pack at her side and pulls out a pair of thin leather gloves, glistening with enchantment. "And you-- here, darling. A little something from your friend Lucretious. My circus and I can now finally leave!" she says, with visible relief.

Hector takes the gloves with an air of mild bemusement. Necromancers are a very strange bunch... "You're leaving?" he asks. "Right now?"

"Not this *instant*," she says with a playful shrug. "So should you wish for anything from my staff, be quick." She gives him a long, lingering look up and down. "Oh, and if you do take on the Absolute - do try not to end up like poor Dribbles. You are *so* very pretty after all."

She gives him a wink and turns and ambles away, swinging her hips, and Karlach bursts out laughing. "Gods, soldier, you do have a way with people..."

"I barely even said anything this time," Hector says plaintively.

[burningchandelier]

A friend asked how to clean a room and I thought that I may be able to lend a little life advice to my pals who have trouble with this task as a person with the tendency to panic when confronted with cleaning.

Here's how to quickly clean a room: Various crisis versions-- Crisis A: Someone is coming over and you need the room to Not Be Gross. 1. Clean off surfaces. Specifically tables, the top of bookcases, sitting areas (or beds) and counters. Surfaces are the main thing that people are going to notice and care about. 2. Throw away trash as you go 3. Stuff things into other things. Put random items into boxes. If those boxes are overflowing, stuff them into closets or under beds. If they are not overflowing, put folded blankets or pillows on top of them to make them look intentionally full and not full of junk. Worry about what is inside of them later. 3. Burn candles and/or open windows so it doesn't smell. Put nasty clothes into hampers/bags/pillowcases and put them in the closet.

Crisis B: You Need to Suddenly Move and Take All Your Shit With You:

Repeat steps in Crisis A, but do it with all your things.

If you have the mental energy and fortitude, have garbage bags that you do not need or want and stuff those things into that bag.

If you have the time, safety, and ability, have a donation bag, too, and donate some of your things. (Only do this if possible)

Once all your stuff is bagged up, just load it on outta there.

WORRY ABOUT IT LATER. No. Really. Worry about it later. You can sort stuff when you're in a new space. Moving is the hardest part. If this is sudden and you don't have time, just take your shit and run. You can sort things when you land.

Crisis C: You have been living like a hoarder and your Parents/RA/Parole Officers are coming to do a home visit and you're going to be in BIG TROUBLE if you don't look like you're taking care of yourself.

Repeat Steps in Crisis A

When I say throw trash away, I MEAN THROW TRASH AWAY. Do it. There is no reason to keep that glass bottle. You are not going to make that craft project with all that cardboard. Get rid of those scraps of fabric. Yes, I am talking to myself here. Get rid of things you do not need. You will be so free.

However, if you have time, be deliberate about what you are keeping, where you are putting it, and why you are keeping it. Childhood memento? Keep! Party hat that you brought home from the bar four weeks ago that is still on the bedroom floor? Probably don't keep.

Fluff those pillows! Drape a throw blanket on the back of the couch. Put on some little touches to make the room look and feel nice to be in. What makes your space cozy? Do it!

Those surfaces that you cleaned off? Wipe them down with a Clorox wipe. You don't have to go overboard. Just, de-grime a little.

Crisis D: You Need to go Fully Nuclear because you got Bed Bugs or something Equally Horrible

1.I'm sorry. For this you need a flamethrower.

I am not getting into the specifics of deep cleaning here because there are much better blogs for that, but I hope that this can be helpful for my fellow pack rats and nasty humans who sometimes need to look a little less gross.

You can do it!