#trash terrain

[sjcraftingworld]

Terrain Tutorial - Zone Mortalis Raised Walkways - Pipes and Cables

[basementofthearchmage]

These corroded nasty looking sci-fi industrial terrain bits are the 3d supports for a completely different piece of terrain, based on a peanut butter jar lids, with some wire, zip ties, hero click clix base, hair tie, and some random bits on top. They've been assembled and primed for about a year, but I slapped some paint on it this weekend.

Obnoxiously, I realized far too late that I forgot to under coat the second one in the metallic primer before doing the green.... Ah well, it's good enough.

[rollofthed1ce]

Ok so I accidentally deleted an ask but it mainly about this:

In “One Man’s Trash, is Another Man’s Treasure”, what if the ancients found Y/N instead of Sea Fairy?

Now, Yandere or not, they’d all be worried about you and your current state. But unlike Sea Fairy, you actually resist when you managed to regain consciousness. But they had very different reactions

Pure Vanilla:

Poorly. Just poorly

He already was worried when he can’t find you, but seeing you in such a state?

Well, he got desperate

When he does get closer, seeing you awake and try to run off, it broke his heart 

He will catch to, due to your current state

When he does he’ll take you back to his castle and straight to the bathroom

Yup, he gives you a bath as well as new clothes to give you when you’re done. After, he takes you to the kitchen to get as many snacks and drinks as possible

He then takes you(as well as the mountain of foods and drinks) all the way to the Flower Bed and it goes as normal

Hollyberry 

Now it’s entirely dependent if a hunter, family member, or just her found you

If a family member(most likely Tiger Lily) found you, they’d be tempted to bring you back

They’d obviously be worried about you

However if you managed to convince them to help them go someone that ISNT known by the ancients, they’d help

If a hunter finds you, they’d pity you and take you to their place to recover…

Wether their a Yandere or not is extremely dependent-

But if Hollyberry HERSELF found you? Well she’d just scoop you up and take you back to her palace. Despite your constant squirming

She’ll actually try to find out who caused all this since she any of this herself

When she found out it was ————-, she’ll be shocked that one of her friends caused this

In turn she’d actually be a lot more protective when you have to meet all the ancients again

At least you two get to cuddle more often 

Dark Cacao

When he found you like that in the alley, sleeping on the cold, wet floor while not haven eaten anything well in a long while

Boy, he was livid

He immediately picked you up and tried to take you back to the citadel

But know how dangerous the terrain is and how fragile you are in you current state, you’ll be carried in his arms like a baby…INSIDE HIS CAPE

Remember: it was raining heavily when he found you, so hope you don’t move too much or you may crumble from hypothermia 

When he manages to get to get to the citadel, it’s similar to Pure Vanilla as he gives you a bath and a change of clothes

The difference being he immediately takes you to his chambers to rest

He leaves you there alone while going to investigate who did this to you and to find 

A way for you to become his queen

Golden Cheese

…I…highly doubt she’d actually find you sense it’s raining and your in an area probably unknown to her

But if she made the gurney while it’s raining

She’d be drenched and tired, considering she uses her wings a lot. Especially in battle

Well now you can run or fight Golden Cheese (which won’t be easy)

So here are some scenarios that can happen from here:

You run away, continuing the game of cat and mouse

You fight her and win. Leading to you running off as she lays defeated (she’ll be fine)

You fight her and loss. Well now you have to wait until the storm settles and she dries off. Then she can put you in a sarcastic 

White Lily

If you thought Dark Cacao or Pure Vanilla was bad, White Lily took it the worst

[jilldoessims]

SIMS 4 APOCALYPSE CC & MODS MASTERLIST (09/05/2025)

!!! PLEASE BE AWARE THAT ANY CC WHICH HASN'T BEEN UPDATED IN A WHILE MAY NOT SHOW, SPECIFICALLY BEDS AND BATHTUBS. THIS HAPPENED AFTER A SIMS 4 UPDATE A FEW YEARS BACK. IF THE MODS HAVEN'T BEEN UPDATED THEN THE ITEMS WILL DISSAPEAR WHEN PLACED. PLEASE ALSO MAKE SURE TO READ WHETHER CC NEEDS A SPECIFIC SIMS 4 PACK IN ORDER TO WORK. ADDITIONALLY IF YOU FIND ANY LOST DOWNLOAD LINKS PLEASE COMMENT THEM BELOW !!!

BUILD:

Random Clutter by Keysims

Medium Trash Set by Mimoto-Sims

Graffiti Van by fre—a-k

Disastrous Set by Kardofe

Survival Clutter by BragenLotus

Post Apocalyptic Life by Frauengel

Industrial Stackables by Necrodog

Dirt On All Of Your Floors by Velouriah

Broken Glass by thesummerannj

In-Brick Hole Window and Old Tile Roof by femmeonamissionsims

Seven Cities Ago clutter by sanoysims

Armitage High-Flush Toilets by Cyclonesue

Canned Food by Kardofe

Carbon Flashlight by wondymoon

Functional Water Pump by icemunmun

Alex Decor Set by Soloriya

Toddler Washtub by BigUglyHag

Echos Of The Past by helen-sims

Rubbish And Tiles Terrain by helen-sims

Debris And Trash by helen-sims

Derelict Set by Kardofe

Armageddon 2 Set by Kardofe

Silent Hill CC by ifeltlikeposting

Wall Pipe Decors by Natalia-Auditore

Cleudo Weapons by Sandy

Crime Wall by soloriya

Dystopia Set by Kardofe

Broken Decorative Set by Severinka_

Garage Clutter by Cyclonesue

Abandoned Set by Ensure Sims (currently a lost download link)

Dixon Chainlink Fences by Gelina (currently a lost download link)

Saw Video Game Floors by mimoto-sims

Calipso Living Room by Winner9

Horror Floors Set 2 by Pinkzombiecupcakes

Resident Evil 7 Bathroom Set by mimoto-sims

Dirty And Ugly Hallway by MychQQQ

Cradle Of Darkness Set by Asylaraber (currently a lost download link)

Airlock Windows And Deco Pipes by Cyclonesue

Old Telephones by dinha-gamer (currently a lost download link)

Rusty Metal Floor by Caroll91

Dirty Lift by Syboubou

Store Signs by dorocash

This Is Still A Door by hamsterbellbelle

Dirty Bed by pihe89 (currently a lost download link)

Apocalypse Items Set by RoylIMVU

Walls by Granny Zaza

Erebus Window Planks by SIMcredible

Garage Set 3 by Cyclonesue

Armageddon 1 Set by Kardofe

Laundry Set by Severinka_

Industrial Style Doors by pqsim4 (currently a lost download link)

Fishrack by Mammut

Gallows by Destraum

Peasant Homelife Toilet by simbishy

Build’n Doors Metal by BlackGryffin

Rusty Window Grille by justarandomsim

The Walking Dead Door by Acciosim (currently a lost download link)

Security Sign Decals by Cryptiam

Grunge Walls by Pralinesims

Bunker Furniture by Severinka_

Rusty Generator by Citrine Witch

Italia Exposed Brick Wall by SimspirationBuilds

Old Tile Wall by lenkalex (THANK YOU TO @possiblewhopper FOR THE UPDATED LINK)

Lockers by dorocash

Impaled by Natalia-Auditore

Cheap And Chipped Set by syboubou

Abandoned Set by onyxsims

City Ruins by helen-sims

Urban Decay Doors by SavageMagician3

Caution Decals by Lore

Rusty Playground by Sixbullets Coverted by abandonedsims (currently a lost download link)

Borderlands Furniture Set 2 by Ramoruka Raizon (currently a lost donwload link)

Roof Decors by Natalia-Auditore

Grunge Set by Padre333 Converted by mimoto-sims (currently a lost download link)

Grungy Blinds And Curtains by tacha75

Dusty Memories set by helen-sims

Filthy Fabulous Set by ravasheen

Gross Recolors Collection by nakasumi-sims

Alice Madness Returns Floors by mimoto-sims

Blood Splatter/Grunge Floor Decal by trg-sims4-cc

Bloody Pool Water by Bakie

There Will Be Blood Set by simsrebelcreators

Dirty Oven, Shabby Door, Dirty Sink, Dirty Bath, Dirty Table and Grungy Set Surfaces by Cappu

After Life To The Comfort by Artvitalex

Grunge Walls by Rirran

Blood Stains by pastelblackcc

Animated Invisible Mouse Hole by Bakie

OVERHAULS:

Post Apocalyptic Life CAS Backgrounds by annettssims4welt

Apocalypse City Skyline by Bakie

Groundy Mod Terrain Overhaul by tech-hippie

Override Flip-phone Functional by mintyjinx (there isn’t any kind of radio phone replacement so closest is old flip phones)

MODS:

Harvest and Gather by brazenlotus

Zombie Apocalypse, (TW) Extreme Violence, Armageddon and Life Tragedies by sacrificialmods

Gangs by basemental

Survive by llazyneiph (READ REQUIRED MODS)

(TW) Corpse Experiments by AlneySmilefrog (READ REQUIRED MODS)

Healthcare Redux by adeepindigo

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡Steamy｡⋆.

Steve Rogers x plus size reader

Stolen shampoo, hot shower and a perky little ass

Warnings: fluff, nudity but no smut, domestic fluff, some crack humour, implied smut WC: 564

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

5k Follower Celebration

You were absolutely covered in sweat and grime, a result of letting Sam pick your hiking trail for the day and of course he picked one that would give you a ‘challenge’. 10 miles of mostly uphill terrain later, you were so ready for a hot shower and a nap with your boyfriend. 

Your clothes came off piece by piece as you stumbled through your apartment until you reached the bathroom, where the shower was already running. You smirked as you tugged off your panties and slowly opened the door, revealing the site of a lifetime. 

The steam made his pale skin glow under the bathroom light. Water rolled down the defined muscles of Steve’s back, droplets getting caught in the divots and valleys of his shoulder blades and the small dimples at the base of his spine, leading right to the perky ass of your dreams. 

You bit your lip, it was far too tempting.

Your hand whistled as it flew through the air and collided with his perfect cheek with a satisfying smack. Steve immediately froze up, his hands still buried in his hair where he had been massaging in shampoo. Your smirk widened as he slowly turned to face you, his pretty blue eyes wide.

“Did you just… slap my ass?” 

“And what are you gonna do about it doll?” You retorted with Steve’s usual line when he was the one to smack your ass. He glared at you so hard he didn’t even notice that you were completely naked. You let your own gaze drift downwards, following a particularly fat drop of water as it rolled down his torso. It raced between his toned abs before getting lost in the thick patch of hair right at the base of his pelvis.

Your eyes wandered lower but before you could go down any further, Steve’s hands flew to cover himself. “You’re objectifying me.” He whined yet his bright red cheeks gave away just how much he enjoyed your attention.

“You like it.” You stepped into the shower, letting out a happy groan as the hot water washed over your sore muscles. Your boyfriend wrapped a muscular arm around your thick waist and tugged you into his chest.

“How was the hike?” He asked as he pressed a kiss to your hair. 

“It was fine but you need to tell Sam-“ You paused and sniffed at Steve. He raised an eyebrow at you but you ignored it and instead wound your fingers into his hair to pull him to your level. You buried your nose against his scalp and inhaled deeply. “Did you use my shampoo?”

“You weren’t supposed to be home yet?”

“How. Dare. You. Do you know how much that stuff costs! I only use it for special occasions!” You slapped a hand against his chest, purposefully ignoring the way he was flexing his pecs. Steve caught your wrists in one big hand. You thrashed playfully in his hold.

“Hey, it makes my hair look good.” He defended.

“Oh like you need to look any better than you normally do.” You sassed.

It was Steve’s turn to smirk as he pushed his hips forward and pressed his hardening cock into your soft stomach. “I just need to do my best to keep up with you.”

“Fuck you.” 

“I’m trying.” He grinned and you rolled your eyes and leaned into him.

Request: Steve Rogers: 13,12 and28 @as-white-as-snow-love

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[iamthedamndonutdrawcat]

Berlin maradures au????

now listen! berlin hipster modern marauders band au. (i'm sorry this is brutally self-indulgent and may be incomprehensible to anyone outside berlin but i need to put it somewhere) this is a long post, so i put it under the cut. please excuse the word vomit :)

they all go to a grammar school that's a bit too shitty to call itself elite but does anyway. many children of bureaucrats, diplomats etc. that think they're ghetto f.e. James, Sirius and Remus. (Peter is the only normal one tyvm)

the marauders met as classmates in year 5. Remus and Sirius are forced into the school choir. all marauders learn acoustic tradtional instruments but their "band" is actually a soundcloud rap project. James and Peter build BAD beats and Sirius fixes them. they all do enjoy indie/rock and sometimes have jam sessions and do covers. artistic duo Remus & Sirius. intense homoerotic friendship James & Sirius. wolfstar endgame. Sirius curates a spotify account with only extremely niche melancholic rap to impress Remus; actually knows german trash rap by heart. serenades Remus with Ski Aggu "love" songs during Remus' depressive phases.

Sirius and James are third generation immigrants; Sirius turkish on his mother's side, James indian. Sirius family is not necessarily evil, just conservative diplomats with a big pride in tradition & well behaviour; far removed from their own cultural & religious roots in order to integrate into german political structures. however they are homophobic/unaccepting towards Sirius. Sirius grows up in a very german environment, gets misjudged by racist teachers. extremely smart yet often lazy. at school they're permitted to use ipads and chatgpt does his entire course work; he spends his time gaming during class. vape enthusiast although he gets horrible coughing attacks.

Remus's background is very international, somewhat french on Lyall's side and arab roots on mom's side, they met in england and moved to berlin with child Remus. Rip Remus' mom. Remus & Lyall live in a nice old apartment (Altbauwohnung) in berlins Pankow district (lots of families, settled down hipsters, sligh shift into suburban terrain), Lyall is either a lawyer or diplomat, 50/50 works or spends time with his girlfriend. crunchy distant father-son-relationship. but because no ones ever home, Remus constantly has friends (and Sirius) over. Remus has BPD, is in therapy and doing pretty well in his later adolesence. Remus spends lots of time outside, drinking in parks, chilling at friends', or smokes too much weed in his room. unapologetic chain smoker, even in front of Lyall. quiet and shy, makes him seem either rude or mysterious. bookworm & music nerd. nokia + ipod combo instead of smartphone because he doesn't want screen addiction or be too reachable. vape hater, point of argument with sirius.

accidental wolfstar public outing after Sirius drunkenly performs an Ikkimel song at a party and then throws himself at Remus (they don't really gaf anymore). For Halloween they dress up as a Cigarette and a Beer (Sternburger Export).

James watches german meme compilations every night and knows them by heart. Footie enthusiast with Sirius, drags the marauders to big games where they almost get trampled. extreme alman energy (aka white german energy, upstuck, snobbish and happily embarassing, taking part in typical german shenanigans) just like Sirius, except Sirius tries to hide it and James can deal with the jokes at his expense. James was a tv addict as a child. James & Sirius friendship began over a shared interest in anime.

Peter is the token german kid. Fridays for future gave him a bad conscience and all the marauders joined him in the demonstrations to get out of class. Extreme stoner, at least bi-weekly sessions with Remus. also i like the art kid peter hc so i'm stealing it. art kid peter who draws cartoons of his friends.

Lily & Severus live in the inner city Wedding district, rougher than the outer parts where Sirius & James live. Lily & Remus bff duo. (ik this is very boy centric, i have yet to dig deeper into my headcanons for the girls)

.

i have a lot of music associations, but they actually are nice songs so idc here they are...

songs to illustrate the vibes: Nachts wach by makko, Rasenschach by Filow, FUSSBALLMÄNNER by Ikkimel, Wenn du tanzt by Von Wegen Lisbeth

Remus coded songs: Marlboro Mann by Romano, Goldener Reiter by Joachim Witt, Ziemlich Verplant by Skinny Dazed (!!!), Alt sein by Pisse

Sirius coded songs: BIKINI GRELL by Ikkimel, Immer nur da by Fynn Kliemann, Klebstoff by Mine (extreme black brother angst vibes), Findelkind by Mine (i could make a whole seperate post on how wolfstar-coded Mine's & Fynn Kliemann's discographies are)

James coded songs: Haus am See by Peter Fox, Verschwende deine Zeit by Edwin Rosen (prongsfoot vibes imo)

Peter coded songs: Alles Gute by Faber, Bongzimmer by SXTN

[matramancer]

pt. 2 | NARUMI GEN WITH A MITSURI! LIKE READER🌸

🌸Previously we focused a lot on Mitsuri! Reader’s background, now, I want to show her relationship to Gen in particular after becoming a platoon leader and drop some interactions with Kikoru!

part 1 | Masterlist

🌸Tags: narumi pining stage(?). oblivious Narumi, mutual pining, mutual admiration, friends to lovers but not yet question mark, loser narumi, OBAMITSU NARUMI AND READER!!!

Well into your time in the First Division, you’ve established a rather interesting sense of partnership with Narumi Gen.

At first, the two of you were still quite stiff, what with how it seemed like you and Narumi were just too different in terms of personality.

One was a lousy trash man–brash, childish and stuck to his handheld when he wasn’t on the field, and while the other was a happy go lucky, passionate girl who grew to be well loved for her demeanor, you were quite shy when it came to approaching him. After all, he IS your captain and the man on top of the Defense Force. You had a great deal of respect for him even before you joined arms. In fact, striving to be worthy to stand with him–to be stronger, was the collective ambition of every officer there.

After finally earning his acknowledgement, you ended up spending more and more time with him. Since you caught his eye with your strength. then you’ll have to keep honing it if you were to prove your existence. So you trained and trained, kept your limbs stretched, made sure your flexibility and agility always stayed fresh in your blood. Turn it into second nature. 

And whenever the captain threw his hand in and actually showed up for a couple of rounds to spar you, you gave it your all. It became clear that he in particular took part in stoking your flames with his principle. To show results.

With that in mind, you’ve been building blocks since the very beginning, he notes one day, rummaging through your files and every assessment result.

Your shooting range assessments during your time as a rookie. Physical check ups. Combat training. Laps. They were above average–it’s what landed you in the First Division in the first place.

But what made you shine was your insane physical prowess, and how superhuman you were with transferring your power to the weapon you held.

Your terrain practice and obstacle shooting course held the highest rookie records. Your field reports never lied, there was even drone footage. Then there was the daikaiju incident, where you wielded an entire machine gun and amassed such a formidable blast upon first use, the numbers were too overwhelming for a rookie.

He remembers another report he got after your health assessment. They had studied the composition of your muscles, your combat levels, and more. Gotten real up and personal with you, so much so that you noted the experience while looking away. 

He’ll never forget Isao’s words after Hasegawa recounted their discoveries in his office. Your extreme constitution, your rapidly increasing combat power, your leap in abilities as soon as you donned on your suit. Your power.

“Another prodigy right after Ashiro Mina.” Narumi paused as Isao turned to face the both them. “The next piece of the puzzle for the Defense Force.”

If Mina was the missing link to fight daikaiju–humanity’s biggest threat at the time, then you were second just to her to complete the frontlines. Another sleeping tiger.

Isao himself gave him and Hasegawa an order. One that drove home the responsibility he had as your captain now. “Hone her strength. A girl with her potential belongs in our main defenses.”

He made you sound all cool and all, but as soon as Narumi made his way to the training hall, he was flabbergasted as you held a comically long photostrip filled with the pictures of the cats you had back at home, gushing over them with several of your platoon members.

“I love Nekotarou, General Whiskers the 2nd, and Meowy Antoinette soooo much!” Were those the names of your cats? He wonders. “I’m going to spend my life savings on building a shrine in their image near Yokohama Station.“ Impossible.

Hearing that gave Narumi whiplash. Right, the daikaiju prodigy that even Mr. Isao acknowledged…

So there you were one day, nervously looking down at a serious private meeting with your Captain and Vice Captain. “You know, Mr. Isao went over some of your assessments some time ago.” Your heart immediately dropped, your shocked expression instantly showing on your face.

“DIRECTOR GENERAL SHINOMIYA?!?!?!?!” Narumi watched as you, noting how you were akin to watching a hamster get scared by loud noise.

You quickly regain your composure (though you still looked comedically nervous in Narumi’s peering eyes) as he read out your achievements. You’ve already proved yourself well, with a high performance level that was brimming with potential.

But most notably, it was your high physical prowess and how superhuman you were with transferring your power to the weapon you held. That was what made you a force to be reckoned with,

“So, with that in mind–” Hasegawa stood up, followed by Narumi. “As a newly appointed platoon leader with one of the strongest, most unique combat power readings we’ve had in the force, we will start work on your special weapon.”

“...” You stare at the two of them. Narumi stares back. Hasegawa paces his sight between the two of you. Then, the words processed in your head, and you let out the biggest beamful smile they’ve set their eyes on. “THANK–THANK YOU SO MUCH!” you stifled a few tears, following them like a duckling to meet with Izumo Tech.

And after a long testing period, you were bestowed with what the people at the weaponries department could only describe as a weapon as unique as its user. Your whip-sword.

With how unique your weapon was, it was imperative for you to train twice as hard–learning the ropes and making sure your new fighting style was worth all the effort. Your pride as an officer–a bearer of a special weapon relied on this. That was when Narumi rolled in, and when he wanted to test your strength himself, you eagerly accepted. Unexpectedly, it turned into a new tradition between the two of you.

Around this time was the turning point of how you slowly broke out of just simple subordination to him, and towards a strange yet delightful symbiotic relationship, one where you didn’t just acknowledge each other’s strengths, but learned more about the person behind them. He started talking to you more once you asked him excitedly about what games he plays, and he started to eat the meals you brought.

Truth to be told, your journey only became more arduous then. You were strong, sure, but you still couldn’t hold a candle to Narumi. And it only spurred you on further.

A particularly remarkable moment between the two of you was the first time you really voiced your compliments to him outloud (to Hasegawa’s dismay…)

It was when he beat you in hand to hand combat one day, and perhaps something felt different with how you were pushing your blood circulation and heart beat to the limit, but it was super clear that he really went all out that day. And he was admirable. “You’re amazing, Captain!” 

“Of course,” he was to reply to you instinctively, but the sheer look of admiration you had sprawled on your face despite getting floored took him by surprise. You were always holding back a little around him–though he knew from word of mouth that you really were a very excitable person–so to see this other side of you was still pretty new for him. He just soaks in your words as you continue.

“Your form is amazing, how long did it take you to perfect it?” “I need to up my precision too. Yours is so remarkable.” “Please let me spar with you more!”

Perhaps you let your mouth run a little too loose by then. “I hope to one day earn my place next to you, Narumi–” You stop. Narumi stops. Then, your hands fly to your mouth as you let out a choked sound of what seemed to be your life regrets. “--I’m sorry!!!” Your forehead had already hit the floor multiple times before he registered your apology, seeing you fret over thinking that you overstepped a line.

But things are okay. You’re good friends now. He’s confident with that. He’s seen all 2760 of the pictures in your “my cats❤️❤️” album on your phone. He has all your favorite foods memorized. He knows the best ways to bait you.

He also had a huge ego boost when you showed up one day with the ends of your hair dyed a new color, following the long tradition of the 1st Division platoon leaders.

Has been scolded once or twice by Hasegawa for making you stay up late helping him farm dungeons on his BS5. When Narumi rebutted that he was your captain and that this was “an important mission”, Hasegawa promptly shot him down by stating that it was abuse of power.

He was actually the first person you showcased your new fighting style with your whip-sword to. Still couldn’t believe that you actually named it after your cats.

When the time came for you to use your new weapon on the field for the first time, you felt a bit more pressured than you should. Despite the fruitful results from in house training, the field is a very different environment, and you couldn’t afford to mess up. This test drive meant a lot–developing your weapon probably took a fortune–and you didn’t want to disappoint Narumi. He spent so much time with you. For you.

You move towards the approaching Yoju with total concentration, launching yourself in the air. “MTS-1437 field test commenced. Initiate subjugation,” Kurusu announced through the comms whilst giving you clearance, the operations room watching expectantly.  

To say it was a success was an understatement. Not when the entire operation room seemed to look at your floating figure in awe, your sword gracefully twirling around your body. You looked as light as the wind, so graceful and elegant as you zeroed in on the yoju, before unleashing an onslaught of the techniques you spent so much practice on. Seeing you with your sword dance didn’t just fit your entire being amazingly – It felt so right.

Inside of him, Narumi felt a sense of achievement, watching you from the operations room as well. 

“...Did she just say Catlove Shower?” He tensed, coughing a bit. 

His memories bring him back to the specialized training room the both of you frequented, when you had eagerly just showed him your techniques. He remembers how gleefully you smiled, how your eyes turned into half moons from how elated you were after he gave you his approval. It was just a “good job” he thought, but it must have meant the world for you. Your place in the force must have meant the world for you. Something in his heart started to tug.

Before he realized it himself, a snide remark came out of his throat. “She was really happy with the names she thought up–so shut it.” Everyone near his vicinity tensed, looking at him in shock. No one expected him to comment that, not even Hasegawa.

As mentioned in the previous headcanons, you and Narumi have grown accustomed to each other’s fighting style. As you also worked with the combo of gunmanship to melee–though not exactly similar, you had turned to him for a lot of pointers. Not only that, but the joint weapon training you underwent with him contributed a lot to both of your understandings of how the other fought. So, it was no surprise that your battle sense became more reminiscent of his.

Narumi only let you join his side as soon as he knew he didn’t have to worry about you. As much as he valued you as a person and the friendship you had, he knew that the laws of the battlefield were strict. He couldn’t trust himself if he couldn’t trust you to handle your own. Especially when the 1st Division handled the toughest of kaijus.

His tough love and constant, merciless training made you stronger. And truthfully, seeing you advancing so rapidly in his eyes scared him a bit (was this what Isao felt?). So he was immensely tough on you. You had to be strong.

But when it came to Narumi and your beloved 1st Division officers, you quickly reminded them of the you behind your strength. The (Y/N) that smiled and earned herself the title of the Pillar of Love, the pink creature that made up the most unlikely duo on planet Earth with Narumi Gen.

It’s the mutual understanding and respect you have with each other that brought your bond both in and out of the battlefield this far.

So when Kikoru rolled in, she couldn’t help but admire you. At the time of her transfer, you were a name she’s heard whispers about. The 1st Division’s pillar of love. An expert heavy hitter who excels in mid ranged combat. Exactly someone she could confide in in improving her techniques with the axe.

And Gen used this to his advantage.

“Oi, Narumi.” He winces in pain as you whack the top of his head in place of Hasegawa, letting out a string of complaints. “As much as I love Kikoru-chan, I don’t think General Shinomiya would appreciate it if you threw all the training to me.”

“I told you, it’s our dual responsibility,” he says in between button mashing his console, “I gave you the order to help teach her the ropes. You have a similar combat style with hers.”

“I trained with you, and you’re training with her. Which means I’m training with–” cutting off his speech, you brazenly pick up his lawn chair, balancing the captain as you carried the seat to the training grounds. You made it look so easy.

“My apologies, captain!” Kikoru watches in stunned silence as you haul him over to where the two of you were previously sparring, dropping him on the ground gently whilst listening to his childish rebuttals.

The blonde only watched as Narumi rose from his seat and yelled out more curses in an annoyed frenzy, now chasing you in circles as you held his handheld controller. You were expertly dodging him too, maneuvering the strikes he made with his hands and feet. Yet it despite the showcase of skill, it all felt too goofy to be real.

Was that… really the strongest kaiju combatant in Japan and the famed love pillar?

“GIVE THAT BACK!” Narumi yells, reenacting a forward strike so cleanly, it had Isao written all over it. He narrowly misses your body mid jump.

“MY APOLOGIES!” Your apologetic tone could not be more contrasting than your actions as your legs landed on his head, pummeling Narumi to the ground for your landing.

At this point, even Kafka was watching with his jaw on the floor, Kikoru beside him watching intently. “Even in a light quarrel, those two are masters in their field! But still…” She zeroes in on the tug of war for Narumi’s console between the two of you.

…Could she really trust the two of you during her time here?

--

A/n: Part three with wingman Kikoru question mark?

[tzifron]

Reminds me of how the British blamed the Acadians for the Mi'kmaq resistance.

The crackdown on campuses offered a grim continuity: Police and other officials churned out all the same old excuses for quashing resistance. Most notably, their rhetoric relied on the predictable canard of the “outside agitator.” New York Mayor Eric Adams trotted it out as grounds for sending in an army of baton-wielding cops against the city’s students. And Deputy Police Commissioner Tarik Sheppard went even further on MSNBC Wednesday morning, brandishing an unremarkable chain lock — the sort of which I’ve seen on bikes everywhere — as proof that “professionals,” not students themselves, had carried out the takeover of the Columbia building. The bike-lock business quickly came in for rightly deserved mockery, but the “outside agitator” myth is no joking matter. In this current moment, the “outside agitators” conjured are both the perennial anarchist bogeymen or Islamist terror groups sending funds to keep student encampments flush with the cheapest tents available online. The “outside agitator” trope has a long, racist legacy, including use by the Ku Klux Klan. In the 1930s, the Klan issued flyers in Alabama claiming that “paid organizers for the communists are only trying” to get Black people “in trouble.” The allegation does double rhetorical harm by denying the agency and commitment of organizers themselves and suggesting that “outside” support from beyond a given locale or institution is somehow a bad thing. More recently, the canard has been hauled out in defense of movement repression in Atlanta, against Stop Cop City protesters who had made a national call for backup. And it was a common refrain for politicians nationwide during the 2020 uprising, as well as discourse around the earlier Black Lives Matter protests in Ferguson after police killed Mike Brown. Blaming outside agitators or interests always was a propaganda ploy and remains so now. The idea that Palestinian liberation struggle is a mere proxy for Iranian interests repeats the delegitimizing logic of the past. In fact, the Gaza solidarity encampments on campuses are student-organized and led, with Palestinian students at front and center, and a disproportionately large presence of Jewish students too. It is students, over 1,000 of them, who have faced arrest. It also happens that millions of people have called for an end to Israel’s genocidal war, and support for Palestinian liberation is not and must not be limited to the mythic and maligned terrain of campus activism.

[backwzzds]

ೃ⁀➷ touch me feel me, renji abarai (nsfw)

renji helps you relax after a long day at the nursing home.

for @roronoaswifey 🫶🏾🫶🏾

you huff out a deep breath as you finally open the door to your apartment. with a close of your eyes, you begin to feel yourself swaying back and forth in near collapse, but almost jump when you feel a familiar large set of hands support you.

“renjiii, don’t touch me, i have old people piss & shit over me,” you whined, shrugging your husband off of you. “i’m sweating, i stink, i feel disgusting.

renji frowned before embracing you again. “i missed you.”

you turn your head and peck his lips before leaving your dirty shoes by the front door and begin walking barefoot to your bathroom. “i know baby, but i need to shower first. that 16 hour double really fucked my back up.”

renji nearly winces at the sound of your back cracking for comfortability. but still, he ignored your previous protests and continues to place small kisses at the nape of your neck as you undressed out your scrubs. he’d lick you in dirt if you’d let him. some sweat didn’t bother him.

“i’ll run you a bath. then lemme give you a massage afterward, mama.” his voice is so convincing. all you wanted to do was collapse and fall asleep, but it would be a cold day in hell before you sat on any piece of your furniture in your contaminated work clothes. renji picks up your scrubs and places them in your work hamper set to wash in the morning.

finally, you give in with a bare nod as renji makes his way over to the tall white tub. running piping hot water just the way he knew you liked, you’re in the bath in two minutes. you sink to your bottom and tiredly rest your cheek against the base of your knee. renji notices how you’re so exhausted, you forgot to put your braids up so they wouldn’t get wet. grabbing pieces of your hair, he ties it up in a makeshift bun atop your head, to which you thank him with a mutter.

“bad day mama?” he asks as he began soaping your back with your washcloth. you let out a deep breath for the millionth time. you were just so happy to be home with him now. from the quietness of your response, he already knows your answer. “what happened baby?”

“so much shit. this shift was more traumatizing than the last. some old bitchy aide reported me to the nurse for a small mistake of leaving a trash bag in a room and i just kept making a bunch of mistakes today. i’m already an outcast because of how new i am to this shit, so this just makes it all much more embarrassing,” you admit it. “i don’t really wanna talk too much on it, ‘fore i get pissed off. that okay?”

renji looks at you as you turn to him with sad eyes. he gives you an adoring smile as he kisses your ear. “you just worked 16 hours. wouldn’t be expecting no different shit from you,” he teased with a small laugh from you. “just remember, everyone starts from somewhere. at the end of the day, you have a bigger goal to reach after school and most of that shit just stems from jealousy. a lot of older people don’t like seeing younger ones win or get bread. it’s fucking crazy.”

you giggle at his words, slowly feeling the stress leave your body. leaning against renji’s arm on the side of the tub, you run your pruny fingers across the terrain of his multiple tattoos. with soft eyes, you turn your head to face him once more.

“still wanna give me that massage?”

and that was how you ended up with your back to the mattress, getting between your legs ate out like no tomorrow. you always knew renji ate pussy. it was one of the reasons you got and stayed with him. but to say he was average at doing so—would be one of the biggest lies ever told.

“oh,” your voice is barely audible as your each up to stare down at the scene before you. a full head of red hair is busy obstructing your view as you can only see the side of renji’s face while he eats you out. “right there.”

you don’t have it in you to scream, you don’t have it in you to do too much. all you could do was cry and whine. your entire body is moisturized and glistening with cocnout oil with exception to your pretty pussy that’s being devoured by your husband.

“renji,” you let out, mind too confuzzled from the intense pleasure from your lower half to form any proper words. “t-that feels s-so—fuck daddy,” you bite your lip so hard, you swear you feel blood drawing from the pricked skin.

“feels good baby?” renji’s deep voice sends vibrations between your thighs as you nearly suffocate him from squeezing so tight around his head. he couldn’t blame you, you were a head squeezer as much as he was a head pusher.

“so good, ‘m gonna cum soon,” you cried, watching the euphoric scene unfold beneath you. renji licked long stripes up the base of his cunt before spreading your fat lips open to get a better view of your soaked clit already beginning to coat itself in white. to make matters better worse, renji slipped in a long and slender middle finger into your entrance, slowly pumping in and iut of you.

you begin to feel his digits curl in and out of you as he continues working around your creamy clit. it’s inevitable for your hands to immediately fly to his maroon red hair, wavy strands damp from helping you out in the bath.

your knees are folded so far back behind your head, the dangling jewelry of your belly piercing is digging deep into your skin as you threaten to collapse your legs along renji’s own back. “can’t—can’t hold it,” you’re breathing heavily, unsure on whether or not you can contain your orgasm.

renji hums at the sweet spot between your legs and continues at his slow pace. he was gonna take his time with you tonight. he knew how hard you worked, and only wanted nothing but the best treatment he could give you for the night. the pleasure wasn’t his, but instead yours.

within seconds, the devious redhead is kissing your clit, still working wonders on you. 11:59 by elijah blake is now playing lowly through your shared room as you grip the bedsheets beside you. renji uses his free hand to slowly slide up your body, making sure to touch every aspect of your curvaceous terrain.

without the use of his eyes, his hands immediately find home to one of your breasts, and he grabs the fat flesh in his hand, squeezing it contently. he removes his touch from you to spread your lips open once more, deciding to turn the heat up just a bit.

“renji!” you’re gasping when you feel his tongue poke your open hole. that was enough to send you creaming all over his face, milky white arousal coating his long tongue diving in and out of you. “please please, right there, i’m cumming, i’m cumm—“ your boyfriend ignores your exasperated cries as your legs tremble around him.

an hour later, he’s still going and by now you’re on your fourth orgasm. renji never joked around when he said he ate pussy for his pleasure. and not just any pussy—your pussy. the man could eat you out for hours on end then fall asleep like a baby without ever expecting anything back from you in return. he proved himself right every time he got between your plush thighs and ate you out like your pussy was his last meal on death row.

renji comes up from between your legs for the first time in a while. “c’mon ma, you can cum one more time for me. make a mess on my face baby, you deserve it.” a taunting smirk is rested upon his face as he admires the reaction he managed to have on you.

your entire body felt like it was going through shock. how could him eating your pussy soft and slow make you feel like a thousand volts of electricity where running through your bloodstream? you can’t even remember the trouble you went through earlier that day at work by the time you’re finally squirting along his face, completely done and overstimulated.

your mouth is held wide open in an o position as your breath gets caught in your throat. you can’t find the breath to speak as you continue releasing yourself all over renji, who, in turn is basking in your arousal like a child at a waterpark. tears flow from your dolly eyes as you finally feel all energy suck out of you like a vacuum.

by now, renji is doing his last rounds and licking you up completely clean. he always managed to get you so fucked out whether it was with his dick or with his fingers and tongue alone. by the time you’re pretty much wiped up clean, your man presses kisses along the brown terrain of your body. your braids are long gone out your bonnet by now, and you’re sure that your sheets were next in line to wash.

renji’s voice is sensual and low as he comes back up to you and looks down in your eyes with love and lust clouding his pupils. running his large hand down your breasts and giving it a comforting rub, he asks you, “you finally forgot about all that shit that got you worked up at your job earlier?”

the nod on your head isn’t enough to hide your smile as you throw your leg over him and finally knock out for the night.

[porblegames]

I've gotten some requests on how to make my trash terrain for 6mm sci-fi or modern miniatures. So I made a little tutorial. Enjoy!

The stuff you'll need: - Plasticard - Brass rod - Air drying clay foam - Bits of 6mm miniatures

Start by making a plasticard footprint, cut into an organic shape. Can't go wrong with kidney bean!

Gather some miniatures to use in our junk pile. We're not gonna cover the whole pile with them, just sprinkle them throughout. This is a good use for your misprints and broken minis, so don't throw them misprints away; use them for terrain.

The trash pile needs a "spine" of brass rod. Attach the brass rod with some glue and let it dry. If you don't give the plasticard a sturdy spine, the plasticard will bend and curl as the glue dries and you'll be super sad.

This is the kind of clay to use. Its super light and dries rubbery, not brittle like regular clay.

Attach some clay blobs onto the plasticard with glue and smooth them out. You'll need less clay than you think because the miniatures are gonna go into it and make it expand.

Sink your miniatures into the clay. I like to add cut up rectanlges of platicard to help cover the edge where it isn't smooth. Let the whole thing dry overnight.

Prime it black.

I usually paint it in sections. Base coat with a dark color. I'm going with purple, but you could brown or blue or gray too.

Free hand some geometric shapes with black. The shapes should be of very irregular. You can let the lines be messy at this step, we're just mapping out the freehand portion. Color in some of the shapes with black to imply negative space.

Base coat the shapes between the black lines in a couple different colors. I mix a little orange into the purple to make a warm brown. I base some of the shapes with a gray blue. A few others I pick out by mixing green or grey with the purple. This is the step where we want our lines to be (relatively) neat and tidy. Let the shapes expand a bit beyond their black line borders from the previous step.

Add another layer to the shapes to raise the intensity. Some shapes get more coverage than others, to make it more random.

More layers, mixing in more orange into the purple. I brighten the slate blue by adding a light pink.

Finish with some highlight layers. This is done by adding light pink to the blues/oranges/greens.

Add some dots of random colors in the remaining black space.

Go around the whole pile like so, until you cover the whole dang thing.

Then paint the miniatures in it. I paint the miniatures a bit brighter and with different colors than the freehand to make them stick out. And there you go. Trash time! Thanks for reading!

[sjcraftingworld]

Terrain Tutorial - Cargo Crane

[bullet-prooflove]

I had a dream the other day about Shawn/Abbott and it involved him being really competitive. Could you imagine Faye and Jack being competitive? Like do they try to race against each other when on a run (or something like that)? Do they place bets on things (whoever looses has to make food for a week - like the most stupid bets)? I hope this isn’t weird it’s just a little thought I had.

I don’t think its weird at all, I think it’s kinda fun!

So I've always had this thing that before Faye, Jack used to run on a treadmill. It's just something he's always was done because he likes to keep himself to himself. He has single minded purpose which is to hit whatever milage he deems acceptable that day.

Faye however has always been an outdoor runner, always through green spaces because it's really beneficial for her mental health.

When her and Jack get together, he decides to go with her because he’s quite protective and he really starts to enjoy being outdoors and having a companion to run with, which then turns into races.

I think they figure out that there are certain terrains where Faye is the better runner because of Jack’s prosthetic but Jack enjoys the challenge so will push himself. Due to Jack’s time in the military and his rehabilitation he’s the better/speedier runner in general on tarmac and concrete. They both fucking hate sand.

They absolutely love competing against each other in this arena and it always ends up with them getting hot and bothered and having sex in the shower. Prizes are usually stuff like dates or chores. Jack has to do something that Faye really wants like go out to see a play or a movie and Faye gets to take out the trash or something like that. Sometimes it’s who will pay for dinner, or who gets to decide the next place to eat at. Faye loves trying new things so it’s always a fun experience when she wins, which sometimes takes Jack out of his comfort zone.

I think they’re too similar to bet on things outside of that as they have similar views/opinions on things so there’s no real competition. They did not take part in Robby’s Betting Pool out of respect for him and Allegra.

[aamputation]

SVSSS AU ... Benevolent System 0.3

related to [THIS] Shen Yuan art and -> [1st] [2nd] [4th]

As didi had promised, the little System had immediately chimed in with a mission the second Shen Yuan had appeared in the world. Granted, the mission was kind of important– seeing as he didn’t have a weapon aside from the Benevolent System Fan that held didi yet, and completing the quest would provide him with an honest-to-Airplane spiritual blade, which in his millennial nerd brain was more tempting than even the limited edition, limited run release of that Hatsune Miku statue he’d special ordered from Japan. 

According to the mission blurb that had appeared on the surface of his fan, the spiritual weapon Shen Yuan was supposed to be looking for was based on an old legend. Even as obsessive as Shen Yuan is about the world-building and lore of PIDW (including the monsters, of course) he can hardly remember much about the weapon as it was mentioned in the actual web novel. As far as he can remember, it was only vaguely mentioned in passing—something to do with one of Bingge’s wives, somewhere in the mid-triple-digits. It was a legendary semi-sentient blade created by an ancient Beast Cultivator, and was so powerful (but not more powerful than Xin Mo, of course) that if one were to be chosen to wield it, they would be able to communicate with and control even the wildest creatures—any number of beasts who roamed the mountains, oceans, and skies could become as docile as a lapdog! The possibilities were endless, one could amass a beast army to span the Human and Demon Realms, probably even the Abyss as well!

Naturally, upon hearing all of this from didi, Shen Yuan’s first thought is: sorry, wife number two-hundred something, but there is absolutely zero chance anyone else is getting their hands on that blade! 

As you well know, dear reader, the chaotic whims of fate all but doomed Shen Yuan the second he set foot into his favorite trash fire web novel’s setting. Now that he’s been living in the PIDW world for a short while, there’s one thing he knows for sure, and it’s that fate has a wicked sense of humor. Thus, our intrepid transmigrator followed the quest instructions to a tee, only to be held up when he realized he needed a guide to navigate the next branch of the quest. And so here he is, marching into the heart of the Steelwood Wilds on the edge of the Borderlands where monster-ridden trials await him with her at his side—Yin Xue, wife number 234—a rogue beast cultivator far too skilled for her own good, and who would not have been out of place in Ling You, Cang Qiong’s Beast Taming Peak. 

Shen Yuan curses the heavens above and subtly shakes his fan as a punishment for didi—the little shit should have warned him about this! He’s going to have to tread very carefully, lest he get suckered into some shitty romantic subplot with pretty characters that definitely are not his to conquer! Granted, she’s an infant right now in the story, barely older than eleven by the looks of things, so Shen Yuan will happily keep himself safely in the role of weird senior cultivator. Of course, since his luck is apparently abysmal, the plot has decided that she would be the one guiding him through the treacherous terrain. In truth, dear reader, despite his obvious seniority, Shen Yuan’s pride is suffering as he is not being guided so much as being dragged along, while the precocious tween makes snide comments about his incompetence.

“Are you sure you’re even qualified to hold a blade, Shen qianbei?” Yin Xue peers at him with one raised eyebrow as her beast companion—a still-growing bird as dark as ink that he recognizes as an Ironwing Falcon—lets loose a short, soft screech from its perch on her shoulder, as if sensing the real threat they are to face is not within the forest, but is in fact Shen Yuan’s complete lack of practical skills. 

Indignant, Shen Yuan puffs up his chest even though he knows deep down that his only real skillset he has in his arsenal right now is his ability to fake it til he makes it. He can only pretend to be competent long enough to get through the worst of what this trash fire universe will inevitably sicc on him. Obviously he can’t sword fight (at least not without some serious Matrix-style training with didi’s help) and his cultivation skills are basic at best, despite essentially having cheatcode-ed his way into the late core formation stage. All he truly has are a fancy fan that’s all but a deus ex machina, as well as his own frantic wits. 

“It’s just a blade,” he sniffs, forcefully maintaining an air of manufactured confidence. “It’s not that special.”

Yin Xue, of course, doesn’t seem convinced. She crosses her arms and stares at him with an intensity that makes Shen Yuan regret his entire existence.

“Maybe,” she replies, choosing her words carefully, “but it’s definitely not just a blade. It’s the blade. The one that makes people tame the beasts, bend the wilds to their whims, and—”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, xiao Xue,” Shen Yuan interrupts her quickly. He genuinely doesn’t need another lecture from this toddler. “It’s important. I’m going to find it. I’m going to become the most incredible Beast Scholar in this entire world—oi, don’t look at me like that, I have a plan.” His voice wavers slightly on the word plan, but he can’t let her see that. He has to maintain his facade.

Yin Xue shoots him a suspicious glance before nodding curtly and signaling him to move forward. “I hope Shen qianbei’s plan involves not dying before we reach the last known location mentioned in the legend.”

Silently, Shen Yuan prays for the same.

The Wilds are far more dangerous than he could have imagined, even knowing all the ins-and-outs of the PIDW world as befits his giant fanboy status. Within minutes of stepping inside the dense, dark forest a giant, rampaging Ironhide Serpent-Tailed Bear comes crashing through the trees, its roar shaking the ground beneath him. Shen Yuan will admit that he freezes, his eyes widening with his ripple of fanboy excitement before his palms grow increasingly clammy with fear as reality sets in. The thought: that fucking thing could kill me! blares like a klaxon in his head on repeat. Of course, Yin Xue the thrice-damned child doesn’t even flinch, which causes Shen Yuan to call out in alarm.

“Xiao Xue!”

But as she simply swings out her arm, releasing both her Falcon and her potent qi-infused whip, he is reminded of the fact that even as a child, she’s far more experienced than him. Hell, the kid is actually well into the early qi condensation phase. Within moments, both girl and bird are deep into battle with the behemoth. 

“Shit shit shit– uhh, didi? A little help!?”

《 Of course, [Host]! This didi is ready and willing to assist! {UPLOADING TRAINING PROGRAM…} 》

《 {INITIALIZING.TUTORIAL:MARTIALFAN_ARTSv5.7.pkg} 》

《 … 100% ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ!  》

《 «𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠…» 》

Shen Yuan hisses while his mind is inundated with boundless knowledge, stretching his mental limits. His qi rages in his meridians and he inhales sharply as the sensation of his bones and muscles ripping themselves apart overtakes him, followed by a swell of nausea as they seem to be rebuilding all at once. The process is agonizing in its intensity. He gags, the pain making his vision darken at the edges before as suddenly as it had come, he’s back to normal. Although, it’s not truly normal. He can feel the way that didi has burned the practical knowledge of the fan arts into his brain, forcing his body to undergo all the training required to use such skill in the span of seconds rather than decades. He wipes his mouth and swears violently as the Ironhide Serpent-Tailed Bear enters his range. He moves smoothly into a fighting stance.

“Holy–!”

Shen Yuan moves, but it feels almost like autopilot. He knows it’s him doing the fighting, it’s his body performing the actions, the strikes; and it’s his mind issuing the commands to execute it all, but it’s so surreal how natural it feels despite having never learned any of it before this very moment. As his fan deflects another strike from the venomous tail the beast is named for, Shen Yuan spins and sends a blast of qi-infused compressed air at it just as Yin Xue’s spiritual whip makes contact, the colliding forces ultimately ripping the monster apart in seconds.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Yin Xue crows with the confidence of someone who’s used to killing monsters even before breakfast. “Why didn’t you say you were a Wu Shan master, Shen dashi?!” Yin Xue bounces excitedly in place, her youth even more obvious in her behavior, “Just think: if you had a proper blade, you would be even more unstoppable!”

“Right,” Shen Yuan mutters, as if the entire moment where he stood there like a deranged gaping fish wasn’t incredibly embarrassing enough. 

“What happened to your old sword, anyway, Shen dashi?”

“Uh, let’s just say I left it worlds away, hm?”

Yin Xue wrinkles her nose, but doesn’t press. “Okay, whatever you say, dashi…”

By the time the duo manage to reach the altar where the legendary blade is rumored to be confined, Shen Yuan has never been so glad for didi’s presence before in his life. The System really has been working overtime, offering warnings and alerts as they continue to navigate through the forest. With didi’s help, Shen Yuan unlocks a few additional cultivation skills almost like he’s in an RPG, levelling up his Talisman and Array skills to a mid rank level. It leaves him breathless, nauseous, and lightheaded each time, but the rush when flexing his newfound abilities is like no other. Yin Xue grows more and more attached to him as he reveals more of his hidden skills—he feels a little bad deceiving such a cute kid like he is, but there’s no denying the delight he gets from watching her eyes widen in excitement and awe every time he breaks through a challenge’s barrier like tissue paper.

The passing thought of collecting cute little disciples crosses his mind, but he dismisses the idea before it fully forms. A wanderer’s life is no place for a child to grow up in. 

Shen Yuan stares at the altar, a rustic stone monolith that serves as a tomb for the blade. Ancient vines and various flora of an ominous nature twine around the shrine itself, and there is a strange energy around the altar—almost like an invisible weight pressing down on him. He can see where the blade is sealed, just out of reach. Even behind its mystical barrier, Shen Yuan can feel the way it pulses with a wild power, the very untamed nature of it making his heart race. 

“Shen dashi,” Yin Xue murmurs, awestruck, “we found it!”

“Mn,” he hums in response, his eyes travelling over the surface of the monolith as he searches for a way to dispel the barrier array. He does a double take as his eyes catch on something engraved in the ancient stone. He steps closer, eyes narrowing as he murmurs aloud the inscription.

“Toothless jaws strike to the bone. Held in a grip and tame the wild—both beast and blade become beguiled.”

“What does that mean, Shen dashi? Is it… some kind of riddle?”

Shen Yuan furrows his brow, tapping his chin with his fan in thought. He feels the need to solve this on his own, and he has a feeling that didi wouldn’t help him even if he’d asked. This is part of his quest, after all; he has to complete his very first System Mission on his own or he’ll never get anywhere in this world. Didi is an amazing resource—basically a giant OP cheat code—but Shen Yuan wants to be able to rely on himself as much as he can, although he is incredibly grateful for his cute little system’s help.

“... toothless jaws… strike to the bone… in a grip…”

Shen Yuan scowls, furiously wracking his brain as he considers possible answers. It feels annoyingly Tolkien-esque, and although he’s adored the author’s books for years, he’s not exactly well adept at translating riddles. He stares at the shortsword where it remains, suspended in air inside the sealed barrier array, his eyes catching on something that seems to have been embossed onto the sword’s sheath. He steps closer, squinting as his mouth moves involuntarily, reading aloud the words.

“Yu Shou Shi… Ren ..?” 

The Beastmaster’s Blade? What kind of unimaginative–

Suddenly, it happens.

The ripple of qi is the only warning Shen Yuan gets before the barrier array explodes outward. He barely has a second to shield Yin Xue from the shock-wave as it hits them—it feels like he’s been cored out, the energy carving through him and the residual foreign qi echoing in his battered meridians.

The blade chose him.

He stumbles down to one knee, not processing Yin Xue’s panicked cries as he blinks, dumbfounded. He looks back over his shoulder where the blade remains suspended but no longer trapped behind the array. It moves in mid-air and he only has a second to react as it flies into his hand, as though it has been waiting for him all along. The moment it makes contact, the world shifts.

His thoughts become clearer. He can hear the thrum of the blade’s soul, as wild and untamed as any beast, yet purring like a domesticated cat in his grasp. Shen Yuan can sense the blade’s fraternity with its fellow beasts, he feels their roars, their needs. He’s always been fascinated with the beasts of the Great Master Airplane’s world, but his belief that they aren’t enemies to be feared is only reinforced—with this blade in hand, they are his subjects to be understood.

Yin Xue, hands trembling where she reaches for his kneeling form, takes a cautious step closer. “You… it picked you!”

Shen Yuan’s fingers tighten around the snowy-white hilt. In his hands it doesn’t feel like a simple weapon, but a promise. He has no idea what he’s getting into, allowing this half-feral semi-sentient weapon imprint on him, but for the first time since his arrival in the PIDW world, he feels genuine excitement as he considers his future here.

“I guess…” he says, glancing at his blade with new understanding. “Maybe being here is worth it after all.”

Yin Xue tilts her head at him, confused but grinning. There’s genuine warmth in her voice when she speaks. “They say the Beastmaster’s Blade is untameable, but… don’t let it tame you, Shen dashi.”

Shen Yuan nods, smiling down at her as he pats her head. She leans into the touch like a contented cat, her smile brightening. He feels the determination solidify in his heart. He will definitely use this blade, that it chose him is a blessing he’ll not soon forget. He will write the best bestiary this garbage fire of a world has ever seen—if only to prove that he’s worthy of the incredible weapon in his hands. 

But as the saying goes, dear reader, “even the smallest stones can create the greatest ripples,” and although Shen Yuan isn’t aware of his own influence yet, the consequences will drastically change this world he’s landed in—hopefully, for the better.

[1st] [2nd] < > [4th]

shout out to adornedwithlight for the reblog banner

[meraki24601]

Search and Rescue

“Stay low. Stay quiet. Check that your earpieces are working and head out. We will find them tonight. No one rests until we bring them home. Go.” Just waving for the band of rookies to leave their makeshift office was enough to throw Caretaker off balance. They slammed their hands down on their desk, sending a few papers flying, as they caught their fall. 

A scoff in the doorway drew Caretaker’s attention away from the way their legs trembled. “No one rests, huh? That include you?”

“No one. What are you doing here, Friend? I thought I sent you out with the—” 

“They’re eating. Recovering their strength to start the search in a new area. It’s nearly three hours after lunch. Did you even notice or bother to eat anything?”

Caretaker ignored the way their head spun as they picked up the papers that had fallen. “Time is running out. We have to find them before Whumper and their men do, if they haven’t already. Whumpee is counting on us- on me to find them.”

“Right.” Friend wiped their hand over their face. “Alright.”

Their muscles ached, but Caretaker didn’t let it hold them back. They’d assisted with the search for the past three days. Rising at 0400 and not returning until 2200 hours. All that could be spared to conduct the search was a mismatched group of rookies. The real soldiers were all fighting, attempting to keep Whumper from pushing further into the woods Whumpee had escaped into. 

For the most part, the efforts to hold them back had been successful. A few of the search parties had run into single or two-man groups who had slipped past the line, but they were easily taken care of, even by Caretaker’s inexperienced men. But… today was the last day. They didn’t have the resources to keep going as things were.

“Get your men. Their break is over.” Caretaker grumbled as they marched toward the door Friend was blocking. 

Friend’s arm snapped across the open doorway, forcing Caretaker to stumble to a halt. There was a water bottle in their hand. “Drink. Then I’ll let you go.”

Caretaker’s ears burned as their chest puffed up. “Don’t push me, Friend. I am still your superior officer. You will not prevent me from completing my mission, or I will have you arrested.”

“For making you drink water? Seems a little harsh. Even for you.” They sighed and slammed the cool plastic bottle against Caretaker’s chest. “If you pass out from dehydration, we will never find them. Drink. You need it.”

They meant only to take a small sip of the water, just enough to appease Friend. What happened could almost be counted as a near-drowning as they guzzled down every drop. Somehow, they hadn’t realized they needed to drink so badly.

“I’ll take care of the trash, and my team will be searching zone H5. They need your assistance in I11. Hagstead fell and had to be brought back to get her leg checked. The terrain is rough. Those kids will need your help to conduct a thorough search.”

Caretaker adjusted the earpiece that was threatening to fall as they ran. They would need to get the thing replaced when they got back. It shouldn’t be that hard to keep the thing in place, even when their whole body was jarred from jumping down the small ledge dividing search zones or when they tripped on a root hidden in the leaves.

“Caretaker? Officer, can you hear us?” The earpiece buzzed as Caretaker neared the area their temporary team was searching. “We have apprehended another of Whumper’s men. We have him contained. What are our orders?”

“What is your current location?” Panting for air, Caretaker picked up the pace toward the coordinates they’d been given. 

They were wrong. So very wrong. As Caretaker stumbled into the small, wrecked clearing, their eyes widened, and they nearly fell to their knees. The idiot rookies hadn’t captured one of Whumper’s men at all. 

It was Whumper who knelt at their feet with their hands cuffed behind their back. 

“Draw your guns, you fools. Did none of you pay any attention to the briefing? This isn’t some random bad guy.” Caretaker took a knee in front of their enemy and punched them in the face. “Nice to see you again, Whumper. What did you do with them?”

Whumper giggled, “Why, hello, Caretaker. I believe we’re searching for the same thing, am I right? It’s like they always say… if you want something done right, do it yourself.”

Caretaker stumbled to their feet. “Friend. Are you in the field? I need you and your team at my location immediately.” 

The response was hard to make out, but still recognizable as an acknowledgement and compliance. Even though help was on the way, Caretaker couldn’t leave Whumper in the hands of these bumbling morons. “You four, stay and help guard the prisoner. Everyone else looks for Whumpee. Focus on the areas around where you found this piece of gutter trash.” 

It was all Caretaker could do to keep from pacing. They could come up with a few options for what Whumper’s presence on the field this far out could mean. Especially since they seemed to be alone. 

First, they had been struggling to find Whumpee just as much as Caretaker had. They’d lost patience and decided to join the search, charging their second in command to keep up with the fight they left behind. They had still been searching when Caretaker’s men had found them, and Whumpee was still out there, maybe not even close.

Second, Whumper had found Whumpee and sent them back with their men, staying behind to throw Caretaker off the scent. Whumpee would be nearly back at the enemy base by now if that were the case. Lost forever.

Third, Whumper had gone out alone to search for Whumpee, found them, and when they saw Caretaker’s men were coming, killed them rather than letting Caretaker have them.

“Can you hear me? Caretaker!” The gun was ripped out of Caretaker’s hand before they could fire it. If Whumper had killed Whumpee, there would be no trial. Even though Friend had arrived and was gripping their shoulder tightly, talking in a rough whisper in their ear to save face in front of the soldiers, Caretaker would kill Whumper for what they had done. “Go. Your team needs your help. I’ll bring Whumper back to the base.”

Caretaker marched into the forest in the direction their men had gone. They weren’t far away, and their trail was easy to follow. Several of them were down in a small ravine, looking around aimlessly. 

Jumping down into the ravine made Caretaker stumble, but the rookies didn’t seem to notice, straightening as Caretaker demonstrated how to actually search for a missing person. “What, did your mommies not teach you how to look for things? Let’s go! Check at the base of trees and under the taller brush. There could be caves or any sort of spot where…”

The branch they were lifting scratched their arm, but the pain didn’t even register. Even though it was covered in dirt and other stuff Caretaker didn’t care to identify, they knew what they were looking at, nearly buried in the shadows. When the foot moved and pulled deeper into the dark hiding spot, it only confirmed things.

“You two. The ones who were actually trying to do things the right way. Come over here. The one at the top, you, call it in. The rest of you, back the hell up and out of my sight. We don’t want to overwhelm them.” Even though the rookies were grossly undertrained, they followed the orders well, immediately moving to do what they were told.

The man and woman that had been called closer took up position on either side of the space without prompting. If Whumpee tried to run, they wouldn’t get far.

“Hey. You’re safe now. Whumpee? It’s me. Caretaker.” They called, kneeling on the ground and lifting the branch. Whumpee hadn’t moved since that small shifting of their foot, and Caretaker was sure it wasn’t a sign they’d recognized their voice.

Caretaker waited, hoping Whumpee would come out, and sighed when nothing happened. “Okay. I’m going to help you out of there. It’s going to be alright, do you understand? We found you before they could. I’m going to shine a light to see if you’re hurt, then we’re going to bring you back with us.”

“Don’t. No.”

Whumpee was conscious! That was good. Even though their voice was ragged and hoarse, they could still talk and knew enough of what was happening to try to push back.

“You’re safe. It’s me, Caretaker.” The woman, Keefler, handed Caretaker a flashlight, and they accepted it, shining the light on Whumpee’s legs to light up the space without blinding the victim. 

Both of the rookies gasped. Caretaker cursed. Whumpee curled in on themselves only to cry out as the movement jostled them. 

“Hey, hey. Stay still. You’re alright. Look at me, Whumpee. I’m going to get you out of here. I know for a fact that Whumper will never touch you again. This is probably going to hurt, but we’ll be as gentle as we can. You are safe, Whumpee. I found you.”

[the-californicationist]

a safe house

(Price/Reader) SFW - But MDNI on my blog please!

“Ghost! How copy? Riley, come in!” Price shouted into his headset. 

You were sending cover fire over the fallen tree that you and your captain were hiding behind. Unfortunately, you’d been separated from the rest of your team. Soap, Ghost, and Gaz were on the other side of the large, icy ravine, and they had done a good job drawing the enemy away from the target zone. Price kept trying to connect, but there was too much snow cover. A nasty blizzard was rolling in, and you needed to find better shelter, quickly. 

“Captain! Enemy has been eliminated. We need to find shelter,” you tried to pull him up off of the ground. 

He looked up at you, frustrated,

“Aye, Corporal, but they’ll be back. We need to find a way to warn the boys.” 

“Look,” you showed him the map on your datapad, “Laswell said there’s an old town…I think she called it Khabnoye? It’s been abandoned for years, about two klicks away. There might be some old technology, radios, whatever. We can reach them on some long-range.”

“Alright, let’s move.”

It was a short distance, but the terrain was brutal due to the snow. You made it there by nightfall, and carefully approached the outskirts of the town, following Price’s lead to scope out possible enemy combatants. There was no one in sight. It truly was a ghost town, and you were justifiably creeped the hell out. 

A small house was mostly intact near the very edge of the town, plenty of empty space around its edges, and only one broken window. You began to sweep the rooms, of which there were only three, noting that its prior occupants had left in quite a hurry sometime in the late 80s. You were fighting a nameless, secret war inside of the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone, so most of the towns you came across were similarly abandoned. 

You stood in the kitchen with Price, catching your breath and unpacking your bag. He was starting up the small, convective space heater checking for high levels of radiation in the room, making sure it was sustainable for the night. 

“Alright, let’s go dark. No lights, no comms until we get a better idea about what happened,” he said in a low voice. 

“Yes, sir. I did get a notification from Soap, but the message is unreadable,” you showed him the datapad before you powered it down. 

He sighed,

“At least we know he’s alive and stable enough to send comms. We’ll work on connecting when this storm blows through.”

“Yes, sir.” 

“Drop the formality, Sparrow. Not spending the whole night listening to your sirs.”

He was upset. The operation was ruined, and he had no idea where his team was or if they were even alive anymore. You said nothing, letting him unpack two MREs and prep the bags for you. You checked the other rooms. There was a tiny, filthy bathroom without running water, and a bedroom with a dingy full mattress without sheets. You set to work arming the windows with night vision motion cameras - much good may it do you with all this snow - and rigged the front door. 

“No use,” Price muttered, digging into his chili and beans MRE, starving.

“Why? You think we’re safe here?”

“No tracks in or out. No trash younger than me, and no pings for ten miles,” he showed you his passive EMP monitor, “Our tracks are covered by now with the storm. They’ll assume we rendezvoused back at the base. It was closer and easier to access.”

“Closer? Why’d you come here then?”

“Base might be compromised,” he shrugged, “Couldn’t reach McTavish, so we can’t assume anything at this point. Might as well get comfortable and wait til morning. This’ll clear once the sun comes out, and we’ll send an AM ping.”

You sighed a breath of pure relief, 

“I know I’ve only been with you guys for a few months, but honestly, I don’t know what’s more impressive, your technology or your level-headedness under insane fire. Feeling very much like the amateur I am, Captain.”

“You handled yourself well out there, little bird. I’m impressed,” his praise rushed through you like adrenaline, and you basked in it. 

“Thanks, Cap,” you smiled, drinking the broth of your soup and packing up your MRE trash into its bag. 

“You smoke cigars, love?”

It was midnight before you even considered going to bed. You and Price had stayed up in the kitchen, smoking and chatting in the dark, only illuminated by the glow of your ashes. The snow fluttered down outside, layering itself on the ground like a pile of white sheets. There’d be at least two feet of it at the door tomorrow morning. 

“...and I got this one in Amsterdam, chasing some smugglers out of the wharf. Motherfucker stabbed me right through the arm. Missed the bones, thank Christ. But, that’s not the bad one.”

You were telling each other stories about your scars, and you were in all states of dress. It was warm with the space heater, and you were comfortable around each other. Aside from admiring the mountainous swell of his shoulders and chest, you tried not to think much of it. He was hot, but he wasn’t interested. You just had a small crush. It would pass. 

Okay, maybe a big crush. But, you had some self-control. 

Some. 

“Oh,” he leaned across the table to get closer and look at your arm, “What was the bad one?”

You blushed, not that he could see it, 

“It’s in a certain spot. Not sure you want to - ”

“Don’t make me beg, little bird,” he smirked, rolling his eyes at your modesty. 

He was right, of course. You weren’t sure why you were shy. 

Liar. You were shy because you had an enormous, filthy crush on your commanding officer. 

You tucked your elbow beneath your shirt and pulled it up over your chest, showing him your sternum,

“This one. It’s a - ”

“Flare burn,” he whispered, his demeanor changing from jovial to serious very quickly. 

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

He was silent for a long time. You watched as Price too a big mouthful of cigar smoke before letting it billow around him, looking like a big, brooding dragon in the quiet room. 

“How’d you get it?” He asked, avoiding your question. 

“Enemy trap. They rigged the door to blow a flare. My vest, all my plate, none of it mattered. The flare burned so hot that it cut right through the gear like butter. If it wasn’t for our medic knowing that he needed to knock it out, I would’ve died. Three weeks in the med bay. It was bad.”

Price reached out slowly, almost as if not to scare you, and touched the circular wound. It wasn’t sexual, but that didn’t stop you from immediately feeling aroused by having his hands on you. You shuddered involuntarily, and he jerked his hand back. The silence in the room was suffocating.

“Sorry, little bird,” he whispered his apology, “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” you chuckled, taking a drag of his cigar for yourself, trying to calm down, “Uh, no.”

“What?” He prodded, not realizing what truth he was asking you for.

“It’s nothing, sir,” you stood up from the table, trying to escape, and forgetting you were in a 200 square foot house. 

He stood with you, reaching out to touch your shoulder. You sighed into his contact against your will, feeling the stress of the day melt away as he did. 

“It just…” You tried to throw him a hint, “Feels good, you know. To be touched. Been a long time… sorry, sir.” 

“Told you to swallow those sirs, little bird,” he whispered in a low rumble, putting his other hand on your other shoulder, grabbing you gently. 

There was very little space between your bodies now that you were away from the table, standing in the no-man’s-land between the bed and the kitchenette. It smelled like sweat and tobacco and 1987 in there, and you were breathing hard, nervous and desperate for him to do something to you that he couldn’t take back. 

“Sorry,” you said under your breath, not knowing what else to tell him.

Price lifted your chin up to meet his eyes, grabbing your jaw firmly, but gently. In the blackness of the night, the moon reflected only a little of his icy blue eyes, and the glow from his cigar made his face appear sharp and saurian. You didn’t expect for his touch to be so light. Just hours ago, he’d snapped a man’s neck with these same hands, and now he was passing the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip like you were the petal of an orchid, careful not to bruise you. 

“I’m trying,” his breath was ragged as he confessed, “I promise, I’m trying to let it go, little bird.”

“Let what go?” You put your hands on his hips, trying to steady yourself, feeling dizzy with lust and fear. 

“My desire,” he put his forehead against yours, closing his eyes, struggling, “Turn me away. Please, little bird. End my fucking torment. I’ll never mention it again. I swear it.”

You kissed him, pressing your lips into his chastely but firmly, enjoying the heat and the smoothness of his skin, the smell and the feel of his beard, coated in tobacco smoke and his own sweat. The comforting spice of the chili lingering on his mouth. He breathed in like you’d pressed a hot iron brand into him, blissful pain radiating through his body, pulling you in close to his chest. He deepened the kiss, slanting his mouth against yours, moving your skull with his powerful jaws, leading you, commanding and strong in his desire. 

“Love, don’t… don’t do this. Not unless you mean it. I’m bloody beggin’ you.”

You smiled, resting your nose alongside his, kissing him again slowly and carefully before answering him, 

“I mean it, John. I mean it.”

Reblogs and comments deeply appreciated! <3 <3

AO3 Link

[msriri030]

Under His Gaze

a bit of Stu x reader and Alan x reader

maybe a can be a part two of this Fanfic

"Stu, I told you—my dad already made plans to go hunting on my last day," you said, scanning the convenience store shelves stacked with chips and soda. Stu trailed behind you, arms crossed, lips pressed into a dramatic pout.

“Come on, (Y/N)! You can’t be serious!” Stu whined, trailing behind you like a sulky puppy. “I’m your best friend! At least let me come with you!”

You sighed, grabbing a bottle of soda and tossing it into your basket. “Stu, you know my dad doesn’t exactly like you—especially after my mom found your porno magazine in his toolbox.”

Stu groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “For the love of—That was years ago! How long is he gonna hold that against me?!”

“I don’t know,” you said, raising an eyebrow as you reached for a container of trail mix. “He had to sleep on the couch for, like, three weeks. You added years to his marriage counseling bill. I’d say that’s hard to bounce back from.”

Stu let out a long, theatrical sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. He didn’t have a comeback for that one. He watched you quietly as you studied the label on the container, your face focused but calm.

He didn’t want you to leave. Didn’t want to say goodbye. But he also didn’t have the heart to make you feel guilty for going.

“What? …You’re really gonna miss me, huh?” you said, glancing over with a smirk.

Stu grinned, but there was something softer in his eyes. “You have no idea.”

His heart was breaking.

—--------------------------------------------------------------

“Thank you so much, (Y/N). I don’t mind raccoons much, but I can’t clean up after these two little demons every morning,” your elderly neighbor, Mrs. Vita, said with a grateful smile, her eyes crinkling behind her glasses.

You held up the cage trap with a wry grin, the two raccoons inside staring back at you with unrepentant mischief in their eyes. “No problem, Mrs. Vita. I’ll take these trash pandas back into the forest where they belong.”

“By yourself?” Her brows knit together in concern. “Don’t you have someone to go with you? It can be dangerous out there.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “Don’t worry—I don’t go too deep. Just far enough that these little guys hopefully won’t make their way back to your yard again.”

You lifted the cage a little, one raccoon pawing at the metal as if in protest.

Mrs. Vita gave you a fond but worried look. “You’re braver than me. Be careful, alright?”

You offered her a reassuring smile. “Always.”

After offering Mrs. Vita a reassuring smile, you set off into the forest, your rifle slung securely across your back and the cage containing the two mischievous raccoons gripped firmly in hand. The cool night air whispered through the trees, carrying the earthy scent of moss and damp leaves. As you followed the familiar winding path, your thoughts drifted to your recent encounter with the enigmatic stranger.

Alan Orion—the hatchet-wielding man with wild, wolf-like hair. The memory brought a chuckle to your lips. For a woodsman, he certainly possessed an unexpected charm.​

But why was he in the woods? You hadn't seen him around town before. The question lingered, unanswered, as you navigated the uneven terrain.

Lost in thought, you didn't notice the low-hanging branch until it was too late. With a startled grunt, you walked face-first into the rough bark of a sturdy oak. Stumbling back, you shook your head, heat rising to your cheeks in embarrassment. If your mother were here, she'd tease you mercilessly, claiming you'd fallen head over heels—quite literally.

Sighing, you glanced around, noting the dense foliage and the soft rustle of nocturnal creatures. Deciding you'd ventured far enough from town, you set the cage down gently. Stretching to ease the stiffness in your muscles, your gaze was drawn upward. The canopy parted just enough to reveal a tapestry of stars, twinkling brilliantly against the inky sky.

"Wow," you murmured, awe-struck. "It's so beautiful."

"Not as much as you, Doe-Eyes."

The unexpected voice sent a jolt through your system. Spinning around, your eyes locked onto Alan, standing a few paces away, his heterochromatic gaze fixed intently on you. His sudden appearance was both unsettling and intriguing.

"Alan?" you managed, your voice a mix of surprise and curiosity. "What are you doing here?"

He offered a lopsided grin, the moonlight casting shadows across the scars that marked his face. "I could ask you the same thing? Dangerous place for someone like you to be alone."

Your heart pounded in your chest, a cocktail of adrenaline and something else you couldn't quite name. Despite the unease prickling at the edges of your consciousness, you found yourself drawn to the man before you.

"I was just releasing these two," you explained, gesturing toward the raccoons, who were now crouched beside the cage, twitching their noses at  the two of you. "They've been causing trouble for my neighbor. Stealing trash like it’s a buffet."

Alan’s eyes flicked from the animals to you, unreadable for a second before softening. “Always knew you had a kind heart,” he said, voice low and steady.

Something in his tone struck you—like the edge of a blade wrapped in velvet. You looked away, but not before his words settled deep, like a spark curling in your chest.

“But you should be careful,” he added, his voice dipping lower, almost like a warning or... a promise. “Not everything in these woods is as harmless as those little thieves.”

A shiver ghosted down your spine. The cool night air kissed your skin, but it wasn’t the cold that made you tremble—it was him. His presence. His voice. The way he said “not everything.”

“I know,” you said quickly, your voice a little too thin. “That’s why I don’t go to the deep end of the woods. Never have.”

You turned, hoping to hide the pink that bloomed in your cheeks, but Alan was already stepping closer. Close enough that you could smell the faint trace of cedar, musk, and something wild that clung to him like second skin.

“You’re clever, doe-eye,” he said, leaning just enough that his breath tickled the shell of your ear. “But danger doesn’t always live where you expect it. Sometimes, it follows you home.”

You swallowed hard. “I-I’ll keep it in mind.”

The words barely left your lips before his nearness wrapped around you like a cloak—warm, protective, and unsettling all at once. The forest, once a place of childhood hikes and calming solitude, now felt alive with hidden things. With eyes in the shadows. With secrets.

“Anyway…” you cleared your throat and bent toward the cage. “I should let them go.”

You fiddled with the latch, the cold metal grounding your nerves. With a gentle tug, the door swung open, and the raccoons bolted into the brush. You watched them disappear, not realizing Alan hadn’t moved—hadn’t stopped watching you.

He took a single step closer, boots silent on the mossy floor. Then another. And then you felt him—just behind you—his body heat brushing your back like a whisper.

“You smell pretty good, doe-eye,” he murmured, voice half-laugh, half-growl.

Your breath hitched. “Y-you think so?”

You turned your head slightly to meet his eyes—only to find his face barely inches from yours. His gaze was liquid heat, slow and unblinking, drinking you in. His lips curved in a smile, but his eyes... his eyes were hungry.

“Yeah,” he said, so close you could feel the vibration of his voice. “Good enough to eat.”

Before you could react, he lunged—not with violence, but playful hunger. You squeaked, a startled laugh bursting from your lips as he tackled you gently into the soft underbrush.

“Alan!” you gasped, trying to squirm out from under him. “You’re heavy!”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through your chest as he braced himself above you, arms on either side of your head. The weight of him pressed down—not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you that he was there, solid, real, unshakable.

“Strong enough to catch you, though,” he said, smirking.

Your heart pounded—not just from the fall, but from the way he was looking at you now.

Like you were prey he didn’t quite want to consume... yet.

Alan hovered above you, his body heat sinking into your skin, grounding you in place. His thumb traced the line of your jaw with a slowness that made your breath hitch—tender, almost reverent.

“You’ve got no idea what you do to me, do you?” he whispered.

Your lips parted, but no words came. You were too focused on the storm behind his mismatched eyes like the forest had left its imprint inside him.

What is he talking about? You stared, trying to read him, your pulse fluttering like trapped wings.

Alan was breathing heavier now, shallow and fast, as though resisting something buried deep—something feral. Your hand lifted almost without thinking, fingers brushing over his chest. Beneath your touch, his muscles tensed. He hiccuped, startled by your softness, and then leaned in like your palm was gravity itself.

But something twisted in your gut. Too close. Too fast.

Your hands flattened gently against him and pushed. Not hard—just enough to create space. Enough to breathe. Your gaze dropped away from his.

“Alan…” you whispered, heat rushing to your cheeks. “Could you maybe—uh… get off me?”

He stilled.

Then, blinking in surprise, Alan tilted his head. “Yes, Doe-eyes?”

You met his gaze again, sheepish and red-faced. “No offense, but… my gun is stabbing me in the back.”

There was a pause.

Then—“Oh! Oh damn, I’m sorry!” Alan scrambled off you, moving fast but careful not to jostle you. “I didn’t mean to crush you like that!”

He knelt beside you as you sat up, wincing slightly. You reached behind and tugged your hunting rifle free from where it had been pinned beneath your spine. The safety was still on—thank the stars—but the metal had left a sore, stinging spot.

Alan watched you with sheepish concern, his hand halfway raised as if unsure whether to help or give you space.

You looked at him, trying to stay annoyed, but it was hard when he was giving you that boyish, apologetic smile. You murmured, “It’s okay. Just… maybe let me breathe next time.”

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Got it. Keep all rib-cracking hugs to a minimum.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

The forest had quieted again. The raccoons were long gone. And for a moment, all that existed was the quiet thrum of your heart and the man beside you—half wild, half sweet, and impossible to ignore.