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angryschnauzer · 2 years

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Smoke and Flame

Summary: A chance meeting after an awards show, you end up sharing a meal with fellow actor Ben Barnes at his flat. Just at things are heating up catastrophe strikes and the night is cut short. But a surprise visitor at your hotel room the next morning proves that even after smoke there are flames.

Pairing: Ben Barnes x Female Reader (No race or body type mentioned)

Warnings: NSFW, Smut, 18+, Fingering, Unprotected Sex, Wall Sex.

A/N: This is my first Ben fic so i wasn’t entirely sure if my brain would help me out, but it seems to have worked! I haven’t seen any of Bens work apart from the first half of Shadow & Bone, but this skinny brit now seems to have a hold on my ovaries. Unbeta’d. Typos show we’re human. I am adding this to the end of my Henry Cavill masterlist as i don’t have a ‘everyone else’ list. I do not run a tag list, instead please follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications. You can also follow me on AO3.

Standing in the aisles of the Tesco Express mini supermarket you swung the plastic basket from your fingertips as you stared mindlessly at the meagre selection of sandwiches left on the shelf of the chiller. 11pm at night was not the best time for a good range of choices. Your stomach grumbled and you looked longingly at the microwaveable chilled pasta meals in the next chiller, before reminding yourself that the small boutique hotel room you’d been booked into didn’t have a microwave.

“I should have just gone to the after party” you muttered to yourself.

The Empire Awards were one of the most fun and laidback awards shows in the industry. Over the course of your career you’d been invited a few times, even nominated once or twice. Tonight you’d been presenting the award for best actor, some arrogant little prick winning the award which he’d all but snatched out of your hand on the way to shoving you away from the podium so he could bore everyone there with a ‘speech’. You smiled to yourself when you recalled how the cheers for you coming on stage had by far had been louder and longer than those of when he’d won.

Still staring at the line of cheese ploughmans sandwiches in front of you a soft cough behind you caught your attention, and as you turned your gaze followed the path of a crisp shirt up to the wearers deep brown eyes and a soft but deep well spoken voice;

“Thought i recognised those legs, they were all i could see as you stepped on stage past my table”

You could feel your cheeks warm as you realised it had been another one of the best actor nominees, Ben Barnes;

“Oh, hi”

You shouldn’t be star struck, you were a ‘star’ in your own right, but where you kept to yourself and avoided parties and the Hollywood social circuit you rarely had much interaction with actors outside of being on set.

“Are you skipping the after party too?” he asked

Turning back to the chiller you nodded;

“Yeah, not really one for loud parties and all that networking kind of stuff, but kinda regretting it now seeing as we weren’t fed at the show”

“I recommend the Spaghetti with chilli prawns”

“I’m more of a Penne kinda girl myself, but my hotel room doesn’t have a microwave so it's just a sandwich now… and i’ve got a choice of cheese ploughmans or a hoisin duck wrap”

“Eww” you looked back and smiled as you saw his face scrunched up in mock disgust before he offered an alternative; “Hey, I live just around the corner and have a relatively clean microwave… if you wanted to grab something hot?”

Inadvertently chewing on your bottom lip your mind went elsewhere before finally your mouth caught up with your brain;

“Relatively? Sold, Penne Arrabiata it is. Do you want one?”

Nodding to the basket swinging from his long fingers he grinned;

“Already got one, toss yours in, we’ll get the multibuy discount” It was unlikely either of you needed to even consider wanting a discount thanks to good roles and even better salaries, but frugal habits from college and drama school still linger.

Five minutes later you were strolling alongside Ben on the wide pavement, the light summer night sky still showing pale hues of blue and pink as the sun lingered well into the evening.

“You know, I wasn't sure if it was you for a moment, your hair… and the t-shirt…”

You laughed, realising that you probably now just resembled anyone returning home after a night out;

“The ponytail was just a clip in, I shared a stylist with two of the other girls on the cast and got her to take it out before leaving…” you looked down and smiled at the free Netflix t-shirt that the promotions crew had been handing out; “And yeah, felt a bit safer covering up if i was going to be on the tube at night”

The dress you’d worn to the awards had been racy to say the least, and well beyond what your usual attire and comfort zone would include. A black mini dress that although wasn’t obscenely short, still skimmed the widest point of your thighs, and when you turned the sides were lace up like a corset with a similar ribbon pattern up your back to a high collar in a slightly goth style and a deep v to show your cleavage, but when paired with the extra long ponytail and the black stiletto heeled boots gave you a darker and more mysterious style.

"Well, knowing what's underneath…" Ben muttered before catching himself and clearing his throat; "My flat is just across this next road"

A short while later you were standing in his kitchen, dark wood units with white countertops to give a stylish feel but with signs of everyday use; from the used mug waiting on the side to the dish towel haphazardly folded and hanging from the oven handle. You'd watched as he'd pulled the old dormer window up to let fresh air circulate before offering you a drink;

"I've got some beers in the fridge, or i think there's some wine… but that isn't cold, or tea, coffee, water…"

"A beer's fine"

Slipping your heels off you sighed with relief when the cold floor tiles soothed the soles of your feet, turning and bumping straight into Ben's chest as he'd silently crossed the room to hand you the bottle of beer.

"Oouf… sorry"

"That's quite alright Darling. Now, take a seat, dinner service at Chez Benjamin is about to commence"

Giggling, you sipped the beer as you watched him move around his kitchen with a familiar ease, spinning a sharp knife in his hand before flamboyantly stabbing little holes in the plastic cellophane of your pasta meal, popping it into the microwave and setting it to cook.

You moved to the kitchen counter and set your beer down, before sliding your ass onto the countertop as you watched him move around. Conversation started to flow as the minutes on the digital display counted down. When the five minutes had passed you watched as he served your pasta, closing the distance between you with a bowl in one hand and a fork in another;

"Bon appetit"

Laughing you took them from him, watching him as he did the same for his own meal. You chatted as you ate, talking about upcoming projects and mutual acquaintances. The conversation was friendly and a little flirty, and you were finding it difficult to concentrate on little else than the way his long limbs stretched out as he leant against the counter opposite you. When you'd both finished he stood and set his bowl into the sink, then taking yours but pausing;

"You've got a little bit…" he waved his finger at the corner of your mouth, causing you to stick your tongue out to lick it away but obviously failing; "No, it's just…"

Without thinking he put his fingers beneath your chin and with his thumb gently swiped at the small splash of tomato sauce at the corner of your mouth, the soft pad dragging over your lips as you parted them. Almost instinctively you sucked on the pad of his thumb, your tongue laving over the soft part. Meeting his gaze his dark irises burned with desire, the corners of his mouth being tugged into a smirk;

"Good girl" he quietly praised, pushing his thumb a little further into your mouth whilst you worked your tongue against it, fellating his digit before you were both made jump by a knock at his front door, a voice coming from the other side.

“Ben, i’ve got a parcel for you”

He sighed, withdrawing his hand from you;

“Sorry, its my neighbour, he’s probably taken in the courier delivery of a script a new dark Cinderella adaptation I’ve been waiting for”

“Oh, Prince Charming”

He grinned at you as he disappeared into the hallway, hearing him open the door and exchange quiet pleasantries, and as the seconds passed you caught sight of your reflection in a mirror on the opposite side of the room, smiling when you saw the fleck of red sauce still in the corner of your mouth. As you were preening in the mirror Ben returned, silently crossing the room to stand directly in front of you;

“Where were we?” he asked with a grin on his face

“You were failing at your job of getting the sauce off my lips”

“Oh, right, guess we’ll have to go with an alternative method”

Without skipping a beat he leant forwards and pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth before pulling back;

“Hmmn, still there…”

Going in for another kiss, this time he pressed his lips to yours, thoughts of the tiny spec of sauce now forgotten as he repeated it again, his hand sliding up the outside of your thigh at the same time which caught you by surprise, the gasp you let out giving him the opportunity to deepen the kiss. His tongue pushed into your mouth, dancing with your own as your hands moved to his chest and up to his shoulders, your legs parting to bring him closer to where you sat on the counters edge. As your bodies pressed together his hands moved over your body, one gripping your hip where the other slid between your t-shirt and dress. His fingertips found the bare skin where the ties of your dress laced, his featherlight touch sending shivers through you. When the kiss finally broke and you were left gasping for air, he started to press kisses down your jaw and neck before reaching the neckline of your t-shirt;

“Hmmf, this is going to have to go Darling”

Nodding you went to take the t-shirt off but were beaten to his as his hands tugged on it and pulled it over your head before he dropped it on the counter beside you. When his gaze returned to you he leant back to take in the sight of your cleavage up close in your dress and how it accentuated what you had been given by mother nature. Ben stayed silent, licking his lips before he wrapped one hand around the back of your neck to pull you close as the other strayed to your hip and slipped beneath the fabric of your dress. Like a creature of the night he descended upon your neck, placing open mouthed kisses along your jugular before running his teeth over the soft skin. As he hit your pressure points your hands flew to the back of his head and neck, holding him in place to encourage him as your fingers entwined in his soft brown hair. You were breathless and you could feel your body responding with heightened arousal, your legs wrapping around his hips to pull him closer to your core, desperate for any sort of friction.

“Getting a little needy there Darling?” he muttered against your skin as the hand that had been on your hip moved between your parted thighs to rub at your pussy through the soaked fabric of your underwear. You could do little but to whine in frustration, his fingers the cause of more arousal with little relief. With a chuckle that told you he knew exactly what he was doing to you he hooked your underwear to one side before sliding his long fingers the length of your slit, going back and forth through the soaked folds from your entrance up to your clit where he would oh so gently run the pad of his finger over it only to dip away again.

“Please… please Ben…”

He moved and pressed a kiss to your lips before touching his forehead to your own;

“Do you want more? Is that what you want?”

“Yes, I need you inside me”

He chuckled and you felt as he slid his hand down until two fingers were resting against your entrance, teasing your trembling hole before he pushed them gently inside, slowly stretching you. Your eyes went wide as you felt him breach your body and you gasped as his warm breath met your own;

“Oh… oh fuck…”

He only chuckled, rocking his hand gently back and forth and each time sliding deeper inside you. Jesus, ‘how long were his fingers?’ You thought to yourself, your unspoken question answered when he hummed as he found that soft spongy spot deep inside with ease. With his other hand still on the back of your neck effectively holding you in his grasp, you could do little but writhe against his other hand as you clung to his shoulders. His thumb found your clit and sent a shockwave through your body;

“Do you like that? You like my fingers deep in your pussy? Being such a good girl, I can feel you’re so tight and you’re so close, squeezing the shit out of my fingers… Did you want another? A third? Think you can take it?”

“Yes… No… I…”

“Let's try it and see, shall we?”

You felt him pull his hand back a little before the pressure in your cunt increased, the stretch of the tight ring of muscle almost too much, but as his thumb found your clit again you surged forwards and impaled yourself fully on his triple digits.

“Oh, that’s the spirit, fuck yourself on my fingers, you like it deep? Yeah? I can feel you juicing up all over my hand, fucking soaked, can’t wait to get my mouth on you, taste you. Would you like that? You want me to eat this pussy? Get it ready for my dick?”

For a posh boy Ben certainly knew how to talk dirty, his words doing more to turn you on than any porno ever could. He increased his efforts with his fingers and you could feel your orgasm building, moving your hands to grip onto his upper arms and surprised to feel how firm they were, how his innocent white shirt was hiding such potential beneath. Your usual suitor tended to be bigger, beefier, not full gym rat, but they would have an imposing presence about them. This is what had therefore lulled you into a false sense of security with Ben, believing him to be an innocent waif when he was far from it.

As his thumb grazed over your clit one final time you felt the world explode around you, coming hard on his fingers as he swallowed your cries of passion with a deep kiss. With each wave of your orgasm Ben continued to apply pressure to both your clit and g-spot, before you were completely over stimulated and breathless, grasping his wrist with your hand;

“St… stop… I can’t…”

Finally he relented, pulling his fingers free and holding them up between you, sticky and dripping with your liquor before he put them in his mouth and held eye contact as he licked them clean.

“Delicious” he said with a dark smirk

“You’re trouble, aren’t you?” you said with a smile as he helped you off the counter, his hands already fumbling with the ties of your dress as he started to walk you backwards through his flat, knocking into furniture, the sounds of things being knocked over on the edge of your consciousness. As you both fell onto the soft bed Ben’s face was buried in your neck, pressing kisses down your cleavage when a sudden loud beeping resonated throughout the small apartment. Ben froze for a moment before he scrambled off you.

“What’s that noise?”

“The fire alarm”

You were on your feet in seconds, hastily pulling the strap of your dress up as you heard banging on the front door, a muffled voice calling through;

“Ben, get out, flat 8 is on fire!”

Thirty seconds later you were both standing on the other side of the street, your hastily grabbed t-shirt and bag in your arms, shivering mostly from the cold but also partially from the adrenaline and shock of coming out of a building only to turn around and see it on fire. Ben had stayed at your side for a few minutes before he started to help his neighbour do a headcount to ensure everyone was out of the building, the emergency services arriving soon after.

Lost in the moment, you were made jump when you felt a hand softly rest on your arm, turning to see a weathered friendly face smiling back at you;

“Young lady, you must be cold, come, we have chai on the stove!”

The residents of the neighbouring houses had come out to see what was going on, and you realised Ben was helping the family in the flat that lived below him to pull their kids out through the ground floor windows. The distant sound of sirens was getting closer, and as the fire engines roared into the street the older Indian woman was pulling you into her house along with other residents of the flats.

An hour later you had your fill of spiced chai, and had been kindly gifted a pair of flip flop sandals to wear as you’d left your heels in Ben’s flat. Thanking your hosts who’d no idea who you were, you called for an Uber as you went to find Ben, seeing him standing outside with some other people who were talking to the fire fighters. You gave him a little wave and he trotted over;

“Hey, are you ok?”

“Yeah i’m fine. I’m going to head back to my hotel. Do you need somewhere to stay?”

Ben glanced back at his place;

“I think we’re going to be fine. The fire was just confined to one flat and the water hasn’t seeped down through to my side of the building”

“Ok, if you’re sure. But just in case…” you fished around in your small bag for the keycard to your hotel room, knowing that the little paper slip it was in had the hotel name and room number on; “Just give me a call, this is where i’m staying”

He took it, before ducking down and pressing a brief kiss to your lips;

“Message me when you’re back ok?”

“Sure”

You woke to a loud knocking on your hotel room door. You’d slept fitfully, even having a shower in the middle of the night to try to help relax your mind, but it hadn’t helped.

“Okay okay i’m coming” grabbing the Netflix t-shirt you pulled it on, grateful it came to your thighs as you slept naked. Peering through the spy hole in the door you were surprised to see Ben standing outside, opening the door you greeted him;

“Ben, what are you…?”

He held up your shoes;

“Just getting some practice in for my next role, bringing Cinders her slippers”

Although it was early morning and the hallway was deserted, you were aware paparazzi were known to creep the hallways of hotels after awards shows, so grabbed Ben by his shirt and pulled him into the room.

“Oh” he raised his eyebrows as he allowed you to manhandle him, but that was the sum total of the control he allowed as you immediately found yourself pressed to the wall, his lips finding yours.

The lingering scent of smoke still clung to him, but as his hand strayed to the hem of your tee it didn’t matter, instead you wound your fingers through his soft brown hair, pulling him closer as his massive hands gripped at your hips. His kisses moved to your cheek and neck before you felt his lips against your ear;

“No panties?”

“I… I sleep naked, i just threw this on to answer the door”

His hand moved between your thighs, long fingers quickly teasing through your folds;

“Already soaking wet”

“I need you, right now”

Your fingers were on his jeans and with practised skill you had unzipped him, letting his jeans fall to the floor as you pushed his boxers down enough to free his shaft. He pulled your t-shirt over your head before you were immediately back, grasping him as you relished the feel of his hardness in your hands.

“You done playing yet? I wanna get it wet”

You smirked;

“Sarcastic much?”

He didn’t answer, instead he grabbed one of your legs and pulled it over his hip, bending his knees a little before he was able to slide his shaft through your folds. Bumping at your clit he grinned as you gasped, before the smirk on his face turned darker and he rolled his hips, pushing himself inside you.

You both stilled for a moment, your bodies getting used to being joined carnally. With one hand on your hip his other strayed to your breasts, squeezing them roughly before rolling your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. The slight pain only accentuated your arousal, your body wanting to push ever closer to him for more stimulation. All the while he worked his narrow hips, thrusting into your pliable body as you took him so well. Your foot could barely touch the floor, on tiptoes you grasped at his shoulders to prevent yourself from falling, surprised when he grabbed your leg and lifted it so he was now completely holding you up as he pressed you to the wall.

“So good, your cunt is like a vice, i could spend all day in here, fucking load after load of cum into you. You got an interview later? I want you in a dress with no panties, so i know millions of people will be completely unaware of my cum dripping down your thigh, my seed marking you”

You pressed your head back to the wall, almost overwhelmed from everything and that’s when you felt his finger rubbing against your clit;

“Need you to cum for me”

You whimpered, you could feel the pleasure building within you, knowing it would only take a couple more thrusts for you to flood his shaft;

“Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck, that’s it, keep doing that…. Oh my god, Bennnnnnnnn”

You came violently, clinging to his shoulders as your body shook, waves of euphoria flowing through your body. Just as you were coming down, still floating on echoes of your orgasm, Ben’s thrusts grew erratic, his quiet curses under his breath before he pulled out and you watch as he came over your mound, coating you in his creamy spend.

Breathless he rested his forehead against yours, and in a moment of clarity you gently pushed his hair out of his face;

“So what happened to filling me with load after load?”

“Almost-nut clarity… consent, grown up conversations we should have had first about contraception…”

You pressed a kiss to his lips;

“You fuck like a roughneck but have the heart of a gentleman”

Returning your kiss he grinned against your lips;

“I want to fuck you again”

“Shower first. You smell like a chimney sweep. How about we shower, order some breakfast on room service, and spend the rest of the morning having grown up conversations and doing grown up things in bed?”

“Sounds perfect” he was already stripping out of his clothing as you started towards the bathroom; “Plus i want to go down on you in the shower”

It was said that only the best after show parties went on until well past daylight the next day, and this was by far the best party you’d ever attended.

#Ben Barnes #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes smut #ben barnes fanfiction #ben barnes x you

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cyberneticlagomorph · 11 months

Text

The Department of Departments.

The Fairy DMV.

The Bureaukrat's Office.

The only place in Fairyland that seemed deathly allergic to Whimsy as a concept.

A low, squat building made entirely of right angles and sharp edges. Inorganic and hideously human, it seemed as out of place in the semi nonsensical Fairylandscape as a goose in a calculus class.

It sat in the middle of a flat black plane of asphalt, crisscrossed with yellow lines that might have been parking spaces once-upon-a-time but nobody in Fairyland had a car so the massive lot stood as empty and formidable as a dragon's stomach.

The Office repels teleportation magic in all of its forms so you had to walk here like a normie.

The second you set foot on the lot, the entire world lurched sideways so sharply that your stomach threatened to jump ship with your nerves.

A butterfly hovered above a puny dandelion that sat crouched in the strip of dull green grass that ran around the Office's lot, the same sort of grass you'd see anywhere on earth, mown too short and dying for water.

The butterfly wasn't moving, just hanging there in midair as if someone had hit pause on real life.

Bureaucracy is a beast that swallows time and spits out paperwork and the longer you stay in its domain, the slower time wants to move.

The longer you stare at the butterfly, the more you can see its wings slowly, SLOOOOWLY move millimeter by millimeter. The moment of calm settles your stomach and strengthens your resolve enough for you to march up to those bland glass double doors and push yourself right in.

The second the air conditioning hits you, you honestly wish you were back home. It's that horrible humid cold that comes from cheap systems that technically aren't air conditioning but "chillers". It seeps into your bones and makes them hurt.

The Office's interior has no color.

Just flat grays, sharp blacks, cold whites, and uncomfortably bright reds that are somehow too alien to be bloody but too familiar not to be.

The lobby is cramped, choked with all manner of creatures clutching paper tickets inscribed with bold black numbers as if they might protect them from the curse of this place.

Several ghosts and skeletons of customers past still occupy chairs or shuffle along in impossible lines for appointments long missed.

It's the only building in Fairyland you've seen stuffed to the gills that somehow feels utterly dead. Magic makes things alive, especially if you love them, but nobody loves the Bureaukrat's Office... probably not even the Bureaukrat itself.

You find a (very human) receptionist who doesn't seem too busy and show her your summons, she has that haggard but friendly look that only comes from working customer service for way too long and seeing the utter dregs of humanity at their worse, but she points you on your way just the same.

The Changeling Registration Department feels... wrong to be in. Walls painted in fading pastels with the ghostly outlines of childish appliques that somebody tore down a long long time ago. There are toys scattered all over the floor, caked in dust and crayon scribbles.

Everything is utterly silent.

It makes your teeth itch.

The bored looking receptionist raises his head from where it lay on the counter and promptly jumps when he sees you, yelping as if struck.

"Uh..." Your ears flick forward and back uncertainly, "I got a summons from the Bureaukrat?"

The receptionist hops to attention, holding his hand out for your proof, exchanging it for a stack of paperwork as thick as a phonebook and a pen on a long chain.

As if you'd come all this way just to steal a fucking pen.

Page after page, line after line of numbers and yeses and noes

X's

Checkmarks

Fill in the box here

Initial here

Signature there

Royal seal, drop of blood, and at least 3 character references.

Do you consent to a background check?

Are you from a species that consumes human flesh?

Your head throbs and your eyes cross, you aren't even halfway through the stack and it feels like you've been here for days, maybe even weeks.

The receptionist brings you a paper cup of water and a little turkey sandwich with cheese and no crusts.

It tastes like paper and ink and makes your mouth feel numb.

By the time you're finished, the rest of you feels numb too.

You give the receptionist your stack, and he gives you two little plastic cards and a certificate of red ink on blindingly white paper

"Right, now all you have to do is take that to the Bureaukrat and get it stamped and you're done." The receptionist sounds way too chipper, you want to strangle him, but you won't.

He points you in the right direction, further into the Office than you'd like to go. It's colder here, and brighter, a certain sort of discomfort that's so utterly Human you can feel it eating away at your magic.

At your Whimsy.

Draining you of color and sparkle and nonsense until you're almost Normal in a way you were never meant to be. The Narrative SHUDDERS, crumpling at the edges, pulling on you like a dog fighting a leash.

But the Bureaukrat pulls harder.

It's a hulking thing, a living mountain made of paper and ink and red tape, with pen nibs for teeth and eyes made of important looking rubber stamps.

Something like a dragon, something like a demon. Something that most certainly should not exist

Ink curls from its mouth and nose, drifting downwards the way it might if dropped in water.

"NEXT!" The word hits you like a wall, knocking you flat on your ass as the Bureaukrat's previous victim skitters out of the room on all fours like a panicked animal, their papers clenched in their teeth, skin mottled all over with bloody red stamps.

When you finally find the strength to stand, the Bureaukrat is looming over you. Ink-breath collecting in drifts around your ankles, the stamps of its eyes glistening with what you hope is malice but is something altogether worse.

Boredom.

You're trembling, despite everything you're scared stiff of this overgrown pile of wasted time.

And you should be, for it rules Fairyland fiercer than any king, it stripped fairies of their teeth and tricks and taught them about taxes. It wrapped the world up in jargon and red tape and files and fine print so airtight nobody could breathe.

With one word, with one missing license or late fee, or toe put out of line the Bureaukrat could bring your life down around your ears and leave you with nothing.

Less than nothing.

It knows this as well as you know your own name and it delights in that terror.

The humans brought bureaucracy to Fairyland when they invaded, and as we all know bureaucracy is an invasive species that will choke out all that is good and fun in the world until there is nothing left but signatures and sign here's. But magic has a dense sense of humor, and paperwork is its own sort of magic, so all the files and forms and folders condensed and coalesced into the monster in front of you and decided to take over where the humans left off.

An avatar of Law as undeniable and unshakeable as can be.

You offer your certificate with shaking hands, the Bureaukrat lowers its great head to peer at it with one eye before snatching it up in its pen nib claws with a level of gentleness that you'd think impossible for such a tremendous beast.

It places the certificate on a desk that's frankly far too small for it, before its long and terrible snout is in your face again.

"Yes good, tremble in fear, no one ever trembles like they used to." Its voice is simultaneously not a voice at all but also somehow is. It's the rustle of paper, the grind of printers, the scratch of pens all smashed together into something that sounds like words. Up this close, you can see that ever scale on its hide is some highly important document, signed in triplicate, stamped, and folded into shape. Its tongue is a long forked bit of red tape that flutters when it speaks.

You see your horrified expression in the reflections on its teeth.

You are suddenly very aware of how sharp pens are and how much it might hurt to be chewed up by them. That revelation must show on your face because the Bureaukrat smiles the way animals smile.

A blatant show of aggression that humans often mistake for mirth.

"Good..." purrs the Bureaukrat, its long tail curling forward towards the desk. It has something like a rattlesnake's rattle at the end, except its made of hundreds of official looking rubber stamps, slick with red ink.

The Bureaukrat's tail hits the desk hard enough to shake the room and to knock your soul loose (or would if you had one). It hands you the certificate, freshly stamped and puts its snout in your face again.

"Now get out."

#ic #long post #action post #ask to tag

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