#It’s so old but I don’t wanna waste my savings on a new one
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Sweet sweet angsty smut~
This is my third in a series of pieces about Husk being chained up and muzzled by Alastor as a punishment for... something. I've been vague about it, if we're being honest.
Part 1
Part 2
This piece is full on smut, with fem!Reader having sex with Husk while he's chained. Lots of angst; references to abuse, self-harm, substance abuse and withdrawal, all sorts of nasty stuff. But at least you get to comfort Husk through it in any way you can...
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It’s been several weeks, and neither Husk nor Alastor are budging on their positions in whatever disagreement they’ve gotten into. Until someone gives in, Husk will remain here, leashed to his bed and muzzled, while you do all you can to make his isolation a little more comfortable.
Even with your best efforts, however, Husk’s deterioration has been steady. It’s hard for him to consume anything with the muzzle on, for one thing. You bring him food scraps and alcohol whenever you can, but it’s so hard for him to eat and drink with his mouth blocked like this, and in his weakened state he can only try for so long before his body gives up on the effort. At least he can splash some sink water into his mouth when you’re not there; Alastor gave his leash enough slack to let him use the bathroom, though that likely had less to do with compassion for Husk and more to do with not giving Niffty a disgusting mess to clean up. It’s difficult for him to do, but it’s one thing that saves him from feeling completely helpless. The alcohol and nicotine withdrawal hasn’t been easy on him, either; he’s still regularly self-harming to distract himself, clawing open new wounds over old scabs before they have a chance to heal. His fur is sparse and comes out in tufts when you touch it too much, and his wings and tail are only lined with a thin red fuzz rather than the handsome plumage you’d gotten used to on him. He’s never been a healthy weight due to him regularly replacing meals with alcohol, but he’s wasted away so much that you’re beginning to see the outlines of bones beneath his bare skin.
If he wasn’t already dead, you’d be terrified for his life.
Why is he being so stubborn about this? You’ve never seen him defying Alastor this intensely before. Sure, you’ve seen him talking back enough to receive a condescending scold; you’ve even caught Alastor striking him a few times when neither realized you could see, followed shortly by Husk going off to complete something particularly dangerous or demeaning. Husk had even told you about previous times when he’d been muzzled until the substance withdrawal had him begging his owner for mercy, willing to degrade himself however it took to receive just one bottle of precious, life-granting booze. But from what he’d said before, it usually took him days to break, not weeks.
He’s still not telling you what task he’s so desperate to avoid. “It’s better if you stay out of it,” he always says. It’s been a few days since you’ve asked about it, at his request; it was one of the only times he snapped at you while in this predicament.
“Fucking hell, I told you I don’t wanna talk about it! I spend enough fucking time thinking about it when I’m alone in here! Can’t you let me forget for a minute?!”
Despite your deep concern, you’ll grant his request; it’s part of the least you can do for him.
Neither of you have said a word since you arrived for that day’s visit. You brought him lunch, a bread roll and a miniature bottle of whiskey, and laid his head in your lap so you could feed him. He was able to finish the whiskey, and he weakly chewed some of the pieces of bread you broke off for him, but more than half of the roll sits on his bedside table for now as you gently stroke him between his ears, moving gently as to not dislodge what little fur he has left. His eyes are closed, and his breaths are heavy.
You know you need to stay strong for him, you can’t give him yet another thing to worry about, but it takes so much for you to not start sobbing at the sight of him like this.
“Hey… babe?” he asks, his eyes slowly creaking open, his voice hoarse from how little he’s been using it recently. “Could you do something for me…?”
“Anything,” you promise as you continue petting him.
You can barely see his mouth behind his muzzle, but his slight smile is visible in his eyes. “I miss… making love with you.”
“Oh… oh, Husk…” That was the last request you expected when you offered him anything. “I miss it, too, but… not while you’re like this…”
“What? Am I not handsome enough for you anymore?” His eyes glimmer playfully as he speaks, somehow.
“You know it’s not that!” you insist. “I just don’t wanna overexert you. You’re having enough trouble eating.”
“Can’t I at least see you?” he asks. “It’s been way too long…”
Surely there’s no harm in that much? Besides, you do miss his skin against yours… “Of course.” You help him sit up and get settled across from you. He leans back on his hands, drooped ears and lidded eyes making him appear as if he’ll collapse any second, but his eyes stay glued to you for as long as you can.
You’re not exactly in the mood to give him a sexy display. You take off your clothes simply, as if you were only preparing to change them. Despite this, he’s still entranced, his breath growing more rapid as you expose more skin.
“Baby…” he breathes out as you throw your underwear aside and spread your legs, showing him the treasure he hasn’t seen for so long. “Can… can I…”
You nod without letting him finish, willing to accept any affection he can handle giving. He weakly leans forward until he flops down to the bed, his face settled perfectly between your legs.
“Fuck…” he whispers, before taking a deep breath and holding it for a moment. “I’m so thirsty, baby…” You can’t help but gasp as his cold nose rubs up your lips and settles against your clit. His nose may be cold against your skin, but it’s always so comforting, something living; it’s so different from the metal that’s now pressing between your legs, separating his mouth from what he so badly wants.
“I wish we could,” you tell him as you stroke between his ears again, warm breath exhaling from his nose and making you so needy. Normally you’d grab his fur and pull his face in closer, holding him in place while you grind yourself to an overstimulated mess against his hot, rough tongue… but you manage to catch yourself before you accidentally tear out even more of the weak fur that he can’t afford to lose.
An idea suddenly strikes you. “Back up a little?” you ask. Once he finally manages to peel himself off of you, you reach between your legs and sink a single finger into your opening. You gasp and buck at the sensation, teasing yourself as Husk enjoys the show. After you’ve sufficiently excited yourself, you pull your finger out, your slick now coating it, a string still connecting your fingertip to your entrance.
“Come here,” you say, holding your finger out to him. He catches on quickly. He moves closer to your hand and turns his head, allowing you to slip your finger through the side of the muzzle and into his mouth. He moans as he sucks your finger as best as he can from this angle, his tail waving as his teeth graze your skin. He doesn’t pull back until every drop of your cum on your finger has been replaced with his saliva.
“Delicious…” he moans, already drunker on you than he ever is on whiskey, as his tongue pokes out of the side of his mouth in a desperate search for more. Once he finally has to admit that there’s nothing more to be had, he climbs into your lap and buries his face in the side of your neck. His arms hold you tight and his knees squeeze your hips as he presses his muzzle into your skin; he’d be kissing you, at the very least, if there was any way for him to.. “Baby… want you bad, baby…” His words are slow and slurred, tinged with the emotions of a man who could start crying at any minute if he wasn’t so sick of it already. Yet, none of this is enough to drown out the pure need his voice always holds for you in moments like this.
“I want you too, Husk,” you say. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he responds as he weakly pushes against your body. He’s in no state to pin and ravish you like he has so many times before; it’s up to you to hold him and pull him down with you as you lay back. He spends a few more moments nuzzling against your neck, so desperate to kiss you, before slowly pushing himself up with his paws and staring down at you.
He whispers your name so sweetly as his body sways.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m… fine…” he says, still swaying. “I can…” He stops speaking to take a deep breath. “Please, just let me…”
“Don’t push yourself,” you urge him as you cup his cheeks, fingers threaded through the patchy fur.
“But I need this… please…”
“If you lay down, I’ll take care of you, okay?”
He nods slowly, and allows you to grab his hips and roll him over onto his back. Once he’s flat against the mattress, he spreads his nearly-bare wings out as he settles in, and looks up at you with eyes so tired, but so hungry. He’s still breathing heavily, as if just that much has him winded, but at least now you’re not worried about him falling and injuring himself further.
Looking at his body like this only emphasizes in your mind how much he does not need to injure himself further. He’s fully naked just like he has been on all of your previous visits, leaving no gash hidden from your worried eyes. Your eyes jump from gash to gash, allowing so much worry to build that you barely react when your eyes reach between his legs. You haven’t even been considering that sort of intimacy ever since this started, and this moment can’t get you to start thinking about it yet.
“Husk…” you whisper, trying your damnedest to stop any of your tears from dripping out onto his skin. You lower your face to his chest to kiss a particularly grisly wound; he groans in response. “Am I hurting you…?”
“No,” he says simply as he wraps his arms around you. “Keep going...”
You keep kissing him, showing every injury as much tenderness as your lips can give. The taste of his blood stings your tongue, reminding you further of the hell he’s been through, but you don’t let it stop you from showing the affection you have so many times before. As you kiss him, you trail your fingers over his concave stomach, lightly brushing his skin until your fingertips find his cock. Despite everything, he’s still able to stand at full attention, and he twitches the instant you touch him. You wrap your hand around him and gently squeeze, and he moans softly as his head tilts back, his hips so slightly jerking into your hand a couple times before giving up and lying still.
“Please,” he begs with a struggling exhale. “Please…”
Still stroking him, you move back up his body to press a series of kisses against his muzzle, continuing on no matter how much the cold steel tries to remind you how meaningless the gesture is. “Are you ready?” you ask.
“Please…” he repeats. “Please make love to me…”
You take your hand off his cock and brace yourself by placing both hands on either side of his head. “Anything for you, Husk…” You press one final kiss against his muzzle, letting it linger as you lower yourself onto his cock. You both share a moan, as close to each others’ mouths as you can both get, as you slowly sheath him inside you.
“God…” he murmurs as his claws lightly flex against your back. “I’ve missed you so fucking much…”
You slide up and down his cock, moving slowly and gently, trying so hard to not hurt him in his fragile state. His chain clatters against his headboard with every thrust, but you manage to block out the sound by focusing more on his breaths and moans. So many times before he’s had your brain screaming for you to take him fast and deep, to ride him rough like the wild animal he is… but that part of your mind is dead silent now.
He’s said it before. He’s not an animal, no matter what he looks like now or how Alastor treats him. And you’re determined to reassure him of that by letting him indulge in emotions and desires that are so deeply human.
You lay your body over him and gently curl your hands around the backs of his ears. “Is this okay?” you ask him.
He nods with a small grunt.
“Tell me if it hurts,” you say. “I don’t want to push you too far.”
Another grunt is all you get out of him before you resume moving, your chests sliding together as you rock back and forth. You wonder if this is bothering his wounds, but he’s not saying anything or making any noises to indicate anything like that. As you ride him, you kiss his forehead and cheeks, letting what’s still exposed of his face feel how much you adore him. He grips your hips and starts thrusting up to meet you, but after a few movements, he groans in pain and lets his waist collapse back onto the bed.
“...sorry…” he murmurs.
“You’re okay,” you assure him with another kiss to his forehead. They’re the last words you say for a while; all your focus now is on how you’re moving, making sure this is everything he needs it to be. Tonight, your pleasure is secondary. Both of you remain mostly quiet throughout the act. Not only is this not something that inspires the sorts of screams and filthy talk you love so much with him, but you absolutely cannot let Alastor hear an instant of this. You don’t even want to imagine what he’d do if he knew Husk wasn’t suffering his punishment, if only for a brief moment.
He still feels as amazing as ever inside you, his barbs greedily pulling at your tender walls with every upward thrust of your hips. And yet, you can’t focus on it as you usually do. His girth stretching you out, his throbs when you move at just the right angle, his tip finding your sweet spot and purposefully hammering it until you can no longer see or speak… none of it matters right now. All that matters are his eyes on you, brimming with gratitude and love.
You kiss away a tear before it can roll too far down his cheek.
“I’m getting close…” he whispers, his eyes not leaving you. In most circumstances, your current speed wouldn’t be enough. Hell, you’ve gone this slow to purposely tease him before, edging him on until he finally rolls you over and takes what he craves.
Given the circumstances, though, you can understand why it doesn’t take much this time.
“Go on,” you say, encouraging him with a small smile. “I know you need this.”
He smiles back before a shudder rolls through his body, sending his head rolling back again with another quiet moan. He pulls your hips down flush with his and holds you in place as he grinds up into you.
“Oh god-” He moans your name in between his pleas to the being that abandoned him so much. Soon it’s only your name that he’s saying, each repetition coming out with more urgent need.
You kiss his muzzle one last time, and his heavy breaths brush past your cheeks as he climaxes inside you. You don’t stop kissing him until you’re sure he’s done, determined to see the gesture through no matter how futile it is. He finishes and softens inside you, but doesn’t pull out right away as he struggles to catch his breath.
You’ll let him stay inside you as long as he wants. He deserves it.
“Lay next to me?” he finally asks. You sit up, hoping that your weight over him hasn’t caused him any further distress, and lift your waist off of him. He rolls over on his side, shifting his wings to a more comfortable position as he moves, and once he’s done moving, you settle into his arms. He nuzzles the top of his head under your chin and purrs weakly as he hugs you close. “Thank you…” he murmurs through his purrs.
It abruptly occurs to you that this is by far the longest time you’ve spent in his room over these past few weeks. “Husk? I’ve been in here for a while… should I le-”
“No,” he snaps as he squeezes you more tightly. “Don’t you dare leave…”
“I don’t want to get you in trouble with-”
“Get me in trouble. I don’t fucking care anymore.” His tail lashes as he speaks, not even weakness preventing his feline body from expressing its anger. “He can do whatever the fuck he wants. I’m still not letting you go.” His tail finally calms down as he settles against your body. “I don’t care if he kills me… as long as you’re with me… I won’t let him touch you, I’ll take the blame, I promise…”
No matter how afraid you are for him, you just can’t say no to his pleas. His first act of intimacy with you in weeks, and you were about to leave him in the lurch immediately after? What kind of monster would you be in that case? You already knew that he hates being left alone immediately after sex under the best of circumstances. Leaving him in a state like this could very well kill him via heartbreak.
Instead, you settle yourself into his embrace. His wing may not be able to keep you as warm as it usually does as he drapes it over your body, but you still feel so safe in its embrace.
You’ll do anything to make him feel just as safe.
“I love you,” you whisper, as you try your hardest not to think of this as the last time you ever get to hold him.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel husk#hazbin husk#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel husk x reader#hazbin husk x reader#irk blubbers about nothing#irk huskposts#substance abuse#self harm#abuse#substance withdrawal
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Me when I’m not on tumblr for multiple days (my computer broke)
#Ao3 writer style#It’s not even loading my browser#It’s so old but I don’t wanna waste my savings on a new one#Sigh
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So the new chapter is out and GOOD GOD do I have some thoughts and a lot of them don’t make a whole lot of sense but I can’t not talk about this chapter
Firstly, Kaiser looks adorable (never thought I’d say that about him outside of my head but here I am)
Secondly, holy hell my heart hurts
He didn’t deserve this, no child deserves this
The fact that he had to “go to work” and just steal
HE HAS NO SHOES his little feet have got to hurt, or they’ve completely calloused up from not wearing shoes, but even then (speaking from experience) it still hurts to walk on hot ground and rocks and other stuff on the street
Yknow, I understood him hating milk before (because milk is disgusting) but now I get it even more
What a stupid reason to get upset, imma kick this waste of space excuse for a father in the fucking face AND balls because ITS FUCKING MILK
Eat some damn fiber or somethin if you got constipation issues
Who let this absolute scum of the earth reproduce???
HES LITERALTL TWELVE YEARS OLD
All the other shit went down before he was even double digits
But dangerous situations create smart kids, and Kaiser was very smart to start saving his own money
I used to have my own stash in case I ever had to run away (long story, we’re not getting into my family issues in this post, but yeah)
At least he has shoes now, protect those feet plz, they’re what keep you upright and moving
Soooooooo are we gonna acknowledge that he treats the soccer ball the same way he’s currently treating Ness orrrrrrrr
But like, it’s nice that he has an outlet to channel his anger into that isn’t a person (at least for now smh)
It’s really interesting seeing how each of the characters came to play soccer
(Side note: but he throws the ball at a picture of a woman, could he maybe be imagining this woman as his mother?)
His mother also deserves a kick to the face if I have anything to say bout it
I have no words for this
Just, can I steal him? Please? I’ll give him a good life
Fuck the snitches, how dare they
Also, you can clearly see his ribs defined, and that hurts me
I love that he was willing to let go of everything
He was ready to start fresh with getting money, was cooperating with the police, until the soccer ball was threatened
Because that is his most valuable possession
The money doesn’t matter, but the ball is a symbol to him of something that won’t leave him or hurt him
It’s a very small sense of independence and stability in this very unstable and controlling environment
The ball is heavily implied to be the first thing he ever bought for himself, it’s what defined a key part in his life
Taking that away is like taking away his soul, his outlet, and comfort, and Kaiser just couldn’t stand for it
There’s so many more things I’m thinkin and I have way too many incoherent thoughts for tumblr, but these are the ones I was able to clear up and make sense of
This chapter hit very deep and while my past doesn’t involve much physical abuse and struggles to this level, it was hard not to empathize and relate my own experiences with abuse with the ones in this chapter
I don’t wanna get into shit, it’s not somethin I exactly wanna put out in the public, but there’s so much here that I could understand and relate to and it just made everything so much more difficult to read (in a good way I guess)
Just, GOD, why did I have to become a fan before this chapter came out???
Okay, that’s my ramble for this, bye before I start going on even more tangents
#bllk#blue lock#bllk manga spoilers#michael kaiser#bllk manga#emmie rambles#holy hell this was intense#I read this before work and had to be thinkin about it my whole shift#good god#the beef with Kaiser is gone#I’ve experienced character growth
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Today in Lines I Loved Writing
From the second chapter of Stardust:
“Heads up!” Ted shouted, cheerily, swinging off of a catwalk like some kind of acrobat, only to smack Random Henchman #3 -- on a shelf below him beside an open crate -- in the middle of his back with both boots, which--
--sent him flying down right into Booster’s outstretched arm, who clotheslined him neatly, saving him from a potentially bone-crunching meeting with the floor. “And down!” The henchman dropped in a heap with a grunt and wheeze. Booster winced, looking down at the guy. “Oooh, might wanna watch the face, those ski-masks aren’t really much protection.”
Random Henchman #5 was running for the doors after #4 tripped and tumbled, because it had frankly only taken three minutes of chasing them around the warehouse to take most of them down. “Grab him?” Ted asked, sounded surprisingly winded, and Booster glanced down at the guy he’d just dropped before taking off after the one running.
It was a quick collar -- literally! -- and just so he wouldn’t have to babysit, Booster hoisted and hung that guy off of a pulley by the leather belt he was wearing before flying back to make sure #3 and #4 were still subdued along with the others.
In the meantime, the Blue Beetle wasn’t looking so good even in the dim light; he was still hanging from the catwalk and something about his pallor was alarming. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Booster asked, wasting no time flying over there.
Ted’s skin was sweaty where it was exposed, and up close, he was clearly having an incredibly hard time holding himself up. “Heart. Ride down?” he panted, and sagged with a grateful sounding sigh when Booster took his weight and he could let go of the catwalk. “I’ll be okay,” he said, shivering. “Just need to lay down.”
Booster was less convinced, but he landed them soft and didn’t let his alarm show when Ted literally stretched out on the floor of the warehouse, thumping against his chest with the side of his fist.
“--should I tie them up?” Booster asked, even as he hit his wrist-comm. “Skeets, call the police, send ‘em to our position? Then hone in on my position and get here.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Yeah, please,” Ted said, though he had picked up his head and was watching; he beamed despite looking like hell. “Do I get to meet your robot?!”
Booster smiled, shaking his head, and went to go figure out how to secure their random henchpeople. “Your lucky night. Hey, do you have anything I can use as handcuffs?”
Ted fished something out of that thigh holster, then held up a handful of zip ties that were sticking out of his fist like porcupine quills. “These work?”
“You came to a bust with zip ties? And while I’m at it, do you actually keep a gun in there, or is it just like your all-purpose junk drawer?”
“Actually, I do have a gun! It’s called the BB gun, because I’m clever like that.” Ted let his head rest back on the floor and took a slower, more even-sounding breath. “But yeah, I also stick random stuff in there because I don’t have pockets. It’s got pouches in its pouch,” he added, with a snicker. “Like a Liefeld comic.”
Booster didn’t get the reference, but he did happen to think the word pouch was funny, which was why he was giggling like a twelve-year-old as he zip-tied their disgruntled henchfolk. “And don’t want any civilian games of guess that lump?”
“Give the man a cookie!”
“I’ll settle for some all-night diner pancakes, but if a cookie’s all I’m getting for saving your butt--”
“It’ll be one of those really big cookies.”
“They do make some impressively sized baked goods in this era,” Skeets said, zipping through the half-open man door. “Also, the police will be here in approximately forty-five seconds.”
“Skeets!” Booster grinned, then nodded back towards where Ted was sitting up gingerly. “Your new biggest fan ever wants to meet you.”
Skeets paused for a moment mid-air, a barely noticeable hesitation, then flew over to hover in front of Ted, offering a cordial, “A pleasure to meet you, Mister Blue Beetle.”
Ted made a noise that Booster might’ve ascribed to an overly excited young dog being shown a new toy. Like-- maybe a verbal flail of excitement, if that was a thing. Then he said, “You are so cool. Booster! I’ll buy the pancakes if the ‘bot comes with us!”
Booster sat back on his heels and watched, even as the sound of vehicles roaring up outside filtered in; something about the scene -- Ted sitting there in wide-eyed wonder and Skeets hovering at eye level -- grabbed him by the heart. Good, mixed. “Blueberry pancakes?” he asked, rising to his feet so he could go lead the cops in.
“Pal, I’ll get you the whole damn blueberry bush.”
“Deal!”
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Why I loved writing them: OMG, the dialogue. I've had the fortune of occasionally having pairs of characters who, if you give them even the barest kind of space, will take a scene and run away with it. And writing Booster and Beetle is just like that; one of them starts, the other builds on it, and then they just keep going, rolling it along and chasing it down the road.
So, I had fun having Ted taking a potshot at Rob Liefeld because I cut my teeth on comics in the 90s and don't even get me started. For all those fans out there who might be unfamiliar, Liefeld's not like-- the only reason 90s comics are just Like That, but he was a big contributor of it. Like, I really can draw a very clear, unambiguous line between Cable's design and Booster's look post-Overmaster arc. It's not even subtle. So, everyone who ever squinted at that really godawful run of really bad design, you almost have to blame it on Liefeld.
Ahem. Anyway. The other part is the whole bit--
“Give the man a cookie!”
“I’ll settle for some all-night diner pancakes, but if a cookie’s all I’m getting for saving your butt--”
“It’ll be one of those really big cookies.”
--starting with that. It's not the first example of those two kind of 'yes, and'ing' each other in the story, their introduction to each other was the first, but it serves as a good illustration of their easy patter and ability to build on one another. And there's something super charming about them basically turning a joking bit of banter into a decision to go out to eat together, which leads to them spending almost the whole day together, which--
I've also had friendships like that, albeit without the unresolved romantic tension. But where you just enjoy the other person's company so much that you don't want to let them go. LOL! @b-radley66 can attest. @shadowmaat can, too. And many, many other people over the years.
And finally, I just also really love the mental image of Ted and Skeets meeting, just as much as I love Booster's reaction to it.
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NICKNAMES FORGED
Thranduil x wifey!reader x Glorfindel x petite Leggy
A/N: not good - read at your own risk…
summary: Glorfindel visits his old friends and somehow you end up teaching Legolas how to pillow fight… Enjoy!
Warning(s) : Not read proof!
“Melon!” You shrieked as soon as you saw the blonde Ellon approaching your garden “I haven’t seen you in a decade Mellon and that’s how you greet me, by calling me a fruit?” “You know what i meant” he gives you the traditional elvish greeting which you accept but as a weirdo amongst elves you always insist on a hug afterwards.
“Where’s your betrothed?” “ Somewhere inside attending another boring meeting” you honestly felt bad for him he immensely enjoyed the wild especially during this season when the leaves are transitioning. “Great i shall join him” “not you too? Here i was naively thinking my Mel-lon came to see Me! “ “ i did come to see you, it’s just i have to discuss important matters with the king.” “whatever it is you need to discuss with me you can discuss with y/n” “Mae Govanen Thranduil, it is unquestionable, although the news i bring from the noldor may not be as…” “what is it?”… “I’m sure whatever it is -“ you chimed “- it can wait until supper!”
It’s been 2 week after your friends arrival you’ve not spent a single minute apart. It’s been hard trying to fit in with the Court’s elves they think they’re better than everyone. Unlike Glorfindel who’s an esteemed Warrior, he’s attentive ears and wise words have helped you grow into the fiery Elleth you’ve become. “Look at you! I remember when…” “don’t start! Those three words I.remember.when. Make anyone sound like an old toad, especially YOU!” Glorfindel couldn’t stop laughing at your newfound nickname for him. “What’s so funny that has my guard smirking?” At last Thranduil decided to join you. He’s been awfully busy as of 2 weeks ago when he decided to jam pack his schedule so he didn’t have to hear Glorfindel and he’s never ending stories of bravery and Hardship. But when he saw you waste your time with the golden-haired he felt somewhat, he didn’t wanna name the feeling But absolute - jealousy. “Well king of smirkwood i can’t help it…” “she’s given me a new nickname - "old toad"” “how fitting!” “Likewise” “I come to take y/n away from you if that’s alright with the Queen” You could sense the tone in your Lovers voice. He missed you dearly. “Sure, just let me say good night first.” Three of you abandoned your previous state by retiring for the night.
“You seemed desperate for my attention, My spring” “Fuck you calling me spring like it doesn’t turn you on just to say it… anyways, what were you and the blonde snickering about like little Elflings,Mel?” “That’s what has you all hot and bothered My king? Glorfindel was just reminiscing my young years Meleth” “oh yes! I two remember, How different our life was before i made the mistake of introducing hi-“ “Thranduil you know he’s a friend! Might i remind you the only ally you have in the Noldor Court.” “He’s not the only one what about Elr-“ “don’t even mention Elrond, he’s everyone’s ally!” “I’m sorry Meleth i just can’t focus on Anything while you’re out there in our gardens being entertained by Arda’s finest knights”. He’s so soft. You wished more people knew this side of him, it would certainly be better for Greenwoods diplomacy. “You silly thing! The only finest knight i know to be entertaining by is the one who’s been avoiding me by attending every last meeting possible!” “You noticed that?” “Ah!” You took the nearest pillow and launched it at your veru. “N-No! My hair! I wasn’t avoiding you. I’d never!” “Then. Why. Did. You. Isolate. Yourself.” You said in between pillow punches. You were pillow fighting his giggling body you knew he could overpower you as soon as he desired but you enjoyed having the upper hand until… “Ada! I’ll save you!” A little traitor ran in to the rescue, and you were caught off guard by his toddler strength. “Thank you îon nin, i wouldn’t have escaped your nana’s wrath without you.” “Legolas! Your Ada’s very tired… and i was just teaching him a lesson.” “Nana! Teach me how to pillow fight.” “It’s nothing hard, really you just take a somewhat heavy pillow and hit the prettiest haired Elf” you demonstrated by throwing the pillow at Thranduil while Legolas did the same but at you. “Leggy? Who do you think has the prettiest hair me or nana?” “Nana!” “I guess that’s settled.” “I doubt I’m anything after that pillow ambush…” Little did the 3 of you know Your House guest was there watching, the heartwarming scene in the life of greenwood’s exemplar family. “I’ll make sure to mention your newfound title to Elrond y/n.” “The hair thing? It was never a competition…” you whisper to the blonde, while Thranduil takes Legolas to Sleep,shaking his head at your forged nickname.
#lord of the rings#the hobbit#thranduil x reader#legolas#glorfindel#greenwood#this is horrible#sorry for this#lmk if you want something different!#thranduil x wife
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tagged by @socially-awkward-skeleton for wip wednesday and @poetikat a day or two ago to share some of a wip!
taggin: @natesofrellis, @thomrainer, @adelaidedrubman, @strafethesesinners, @strangefable, @funkypoacher, @harmonyowl, @schoute, @aceghosts, @confidentandgood, and anyone else wanting to share anything they have (but no pressure, as always)
i just published ch 5 of fragile creatures and i don’t really work ahead, so everything i have for ch 6 is super rough, but here’s something that’s polished enough to share. it still needs a lot of work lmao but it’s better than the skeletons and single lines of dialogue/description or notes that are my other wips...
“So,” he sniffs. “Put any thought into how you wanna die?”
Pratt doesn’t look at him, or answer.
“No? You don’t give me any input and I’ll have to decide for you. And I gotta say, Peaches, whatever I come up with, you’re not gonna like.” He slices a piece of apple and pops it in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully.
He watches for any reaction, but Pratt gives him nothing. Just a quick glance out of the corner of his eye. Disappointing. Jacob thought he’d be a wreck by now. “Tell you what. I’ll give you a choice,” he continues. “One of two options. Either A,” he holds his index finger up, “I crucify you. Hike you up somewhere into the mountains and nail you to some trees and leave you up there all by yourself. Someone may find and save you. Or you’ll die a slow, agonizing death.”
Still nothing, save for the bob of his Adam’s apple.
“Or,” he says, holding up his second finger. “You’re shot. Back of the head. Executioner’s style. Hell, I’ll do it myself if you want. Nice and quick. Comparatively painless. Caveat is you gotta dig your own grave first -- assuming you want one. I’m not making my men waste their time putting your body to rest. Otherwise your body’s being fed to the wolves. Might be the only useful thing you’ll ever be good for.”
And Pratt still remains a statue, huddled in his little corner of the cage. The deputy isn’t a resilient man. He bows and bends at the slightest hint of pressure. Getting him to break had been easy. But for some reason, it’s here that he’s found some resolve. If Jacob were a more charitable man, he might even find his newfound conviction admirable. Pratt has only known Deputy Rook for only a few months, yet he’s confident she’ll put her neck on the line just to save him.
But Jacob isn’t a charitable man, and he thinks Pratt is naive and a fool.
“She’ll be here,” Pratt rasps, his voice rough from pain and thirst.
Jacob gives him a look. Amused but pitying, the same kind of look one gives a child who failed entertainingly at whatever task they were attempting. “Whatever helps you get through the day, Peaches,” he says.
annnnd here’s a snippet from the charlie/paola pre-ship fic that i’ll finish someday....no paola in this particular scene, but have some fun old fashioned heist planning with charlie + the lost legacy trio
He raises his hand. Chloe nods at him. “Yes, Charlie?”
“What are we gonna do about the provenance documents?” he asks.
Sam scoffs. “Provenance documents,” he parrots. “Lookat you using big boy words.”
“Fuck off, it’s a legitimate question,” Charlie bristles. “This guy’s a scumbag, but he’s by the book, right? Technically he bought the piece legally, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Chloe says slowly, and he’s suddenly a little uncomfortable with how everyone’s eyes are on him now.
“Then there’s gonna be a paper trail. It’s not gonna matter how long we sit on it, the second we try to fence it, alarm bells are gonna go off somewhere. And if it can get traced back to us…”
“Bad news bears,” Sam finishes.
Charlie points at him. “Exactly.”
Chloe chews thoughtfully on the inside of her cheek. “Okay, so we steal the provenance documents too. Easy.”
Charlie shakes his head. “Won’t be enough. We’ll need to get the digital files too.”
Chloe pulls a face, puffing her cheeks out and exhaling heavily. It’s so much easier to steal from other criminals. Nadine frowns, working her jaw as the cogs turn in her head, and Sam drums his fingers against the counter. Then he says, “I can do it.”
“Are you sure?” Chloe asks.
Sam nods. “You’re sending me in through the front door anyways. We’ll pick up a USB or something at the airport and I’ll figure out a way to get into his office. Easy peasy.”
They all know it’s anything but, but there’s no way to hash out a more concrete plan without actually getting eyes inside this guy’s mansion.
“What do we do once we have the documents, then?” Nadine asks.
Charlie shrugs. “Find someone who can forge them?"
“Do we know any forgers in Italy?” she asks the table. Both Chloe and Sam shake their heads.
Charlie awkwardly clears his throat. “Well, there’s Miss Orsini, right?”
The silence that follows his question drags on for an eternity.
Then Sam bursts into laughter. “You’re joking, right?” he says, wiping a fake tear from his eye. “After last time, I don’t think she’ll be too keen on the idea of working with us again.”
“Naw, mate, she just doesn’t want to work with you again,” Charlie responds. He doesn’t know much about the history between Sam and Miss Orsini, but he does know that the events of the previous job working with her put him squarely on her shit-list. But she seemed to still be on professionally amicable terms with both Nadine and Chloe last he heard.
“She’s a civilian, Charlie,” Nadine says dismissively.
“One who specializes in the preservation of both digital and paper records.”
“I have seen her literally pull ink off of paper,” Sam says quietly.
Nadine sighs. “Alright, I’ll talk to her. But I won’t make any promises.”
#wip wednesday#wip: fragile creatures#brain hasn't been good for writing recently but here's some stuff
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VOXES: STIMULANT LYRIC STARTERS. starters from the Sig Figs Collective’s album Voxes: Stimulant, a fan album dedicated to Dimension 20′s The Unsleeping City. Change pronouns / lines as needed!
TIMES GONE BY.
“ our fears have eyes that see the futures we could manifest. “
“ hold on tight those who know you true. “
“ don’t forget all of the years that made you into someone worth more than just a couple pearls. “
“ dream a bigger dream. “
“ when we’re left a choice and all the voices fade, will we trust the ones who lift us up? “
“ the things we need are already inside. “
“ there’s a sun on the horizon. “
“ will we make it there? “
“ we can make it there! “
“ throw avarice aside. “
“ we’ll take a cup of kindness yet for times gone by. “
OF ALL THINGS.
“ you abandoned them. “
“ where did you go? did you even love your family? “
“ you belong in the sewer. you’re a fucking rat. “
“ make sure you say goodbye. “
“ i’ve lived a life that’s small and putrid, drowning in regret. “
“ there are things that i’ve done that i’d like to forget. “
“ i know i’ve stained your soul with abandonment and pain. “
“ . . . you don’t seem to mind. “
“ you conduct your work with pride. “
“ now how do i depart? “
“ you’re the best son that i could’ve asked for. “
“ i don’t deserve all this love without heed. “
“ i can’t help but wonder what things you will achieve. “
“ if i was a better father, i would have worked harder and would have gone farther to see you succeed. “
“ i love you more than all things. “
“ i spent so many years defiant, feeling sorry for myself. “
“ i slowly recognized the suffering i’ve dealt. “
“ i developed the perspective to see others in distress. “
“ from that point on, i’ve aided my fellow dispossessed. “
“ you have the natural empathy that it took me years to see. “
“ i’m proud of the man you’ve become. “
“ you’re someone i wish i was when i was young. “
“ i ran away from my feelings, abandoned my family . . . “
“ you’re a fuckin’ ball - buster with a passionate luster to protect others without so much as a boast. “
“ i know you don’t forgive me. “
“ i would say i’m sorry, but there’s no apology that would let me hold you close. “
“ i have to go. “
“ i feel my consciousness expand. “
“ i can’t have what i want ; some dreams have to end. “
“ just know in your heart, i’ll be protecting you from somewhere. “
“ you saved us . . . you did it. “
“ you got to say goodbye. “
WALK WITH ME.
“ we were young then, back in our spring, but the leaves have all fallen. “
“ your name still lives in my throat. “
“ we were in love then. “
“ it’s not something we lost along the way. “
“ even if we made mistakes, they were the best i ever made. “
“ walk with me. “
“ i promise it will be easy. “
“ it all feels so new. “
“ let me get to know you. “
“ i don’t have anything to prove when i tell you i still love you. “
“ i’m sorry for the time i wasted. “
“ through the years, i always felt the same. “
“ i think it’s time i be a bit selfish. “
“ i’ve never been scared of the cold. “
“ if it’s with you, i want to grow old. “
“ let’s make some more memories. “
“ even if just for awhile, let’s try again. “
“ let’s make our dreams come true. “
LEEWAY.
“ it’s a really bitter lesson when you realize how much hope hurts you. “
“ life is full of so much light. it’s easy to remind yourself of what’s good. “
“ still, pain creeps in around the edges. “
“ sure, there might be roads that would be easier to walk, but the ones that we are on are all the better for the loss. “
“ when our paths cross, it’s worth for those fleeting seconds. “
“ i’ll stare down heaven, knowin’ that it’s pure perfection. “
“ the hope is worth the pain. “
“ when i look into your eyes, i can see a future i wanna live in. “
“ there’s nothing that we just can’t do. “
“ there’s magic all around us. “
“ you remind me how to wonder, how to dream what isn’t here yet. “
“ i’m not convinced that anyone could outshine you. “
“ i’d stare down god himself if it meant i got to spend just one second by your side. “
“ i’m learning there’s some lines that can’t be crossed. “
“ we’ll make it through whatever. “
“ there’s nothing that can’t keep us two together. “
SWORD GUY.
“ the government sucks. the establishment sucks. society fuckin’ sucks. but the devil? fuckin’ sick, dude. “
“ this hot topic’s a time capsule, vintage polaroid of like, ‘04. “
“ i stood at the black countertops as if they were an altar. “
“ he’s got, like, a marmot’s head. “
“ do you know what a marmot is? “
“ fuck, this shit looks looks fuckin’ sick, dude! “
“ my heart is as cold as the ice, like the ice in the parking lot but also hard, like the concrete that mixes with the ice, in the mall, in the parking lot. “
“ the pigs & the pit lions set to fight now and the gladiator? he is set to go down! “
“ bro, i’m like an even bigger lion, like a liger, and instead of claws i’ve got, like, twelve fucking swords, dude. “
“ the devil’s fuckin’ cool. “
“ i’m losin’ my grip, again. “
“ oh, i’m gonna be sick. i swear, i’m gonna be so fuckin’ sick, dude, sick as hell. “
“ like, an angel in the night, but not that boring kind of angel. “
“ bro, my wings are made of swords and i’ve got horns instead of halos! “
“ lucifer, beseech me! help me defeat my enemies! “
“ don’t be my oorichimaru. be my jiriya, maybe? “
“ he doesn’t have, like, snakes for arms or anything, so i think i’m good, right? “
“ i’m fine. this is fine. “
“ this is the devil. “
“ this is definitely the devil. i mean, he straight up said, ‘yes, i am the guy you just said,’ and i just said the devil . . . so? “
“ those tender thoughts i do refine. “
“ i am the one that you seek, so come hither. “
NOTHING.
“ what if, anything, stays? “
“ have you heard tale of the child who looks over every night? “
“ go visit them. “
“ you will be safe as their guest, but be sure not to leave their eyes. “
“ one by one, it kills the stars. “
“ its shadow makes the city bleed and the empty windows scream. “
“ do not step out into the deep. “
“ you will not wake up from that sleep. “
“ nothing. nothing stays. “
LONELY.
“ i’m so lonely. “
“ no one to hold me. no one to tell me it’s gonna be alright. “
“ dunno how all this happened, where i found all this sadness. “
“ seems it’s been a month since i saw my reflection and smiled. “
“ this city takes its toll. “
“ i’m losing all control of my heart, of my head, of my mind . . . “
“ tell me i’m gonna be fine. please, somebody tell me. “
“ i’m such a clown, naive and dumb. “
“ i’m facedown in the covers of my bed again. “
“ nothing bad is ever gonna happen. “
“ you don’t have to be alone. “
“ i can be there in a moment. “
“ i’ll be there for you, if you want me to. “
“ it’s hard to hold on. “
“ hold on. “
“ we look out for each other. “
“ is there someone bothering you right now? “
“ you can talk to me. let your guard down. “
“ does this have something to do with the things you saw? “
“ did it scare you? “
“ i know that people are harder to read sometimes. “
“ it’s confusing, figuring truth from lies. “
“ i’m here for you, and our friends are too. “
“ meet my eyes: you’re alive. you’re not alone again. “
“ pull up a seat, prop your feat, eat your fill, and then we’ll just exist. “
“ if tomorrow things get worse, we’ll do it all again. “
MANTRA.
“ these meetings of the mind always lead to contests of might. “
“ well, you hope to see fists fly ‘cause if it’s words, it’s ruined lives. “
“ sometimes, looking forward means you can’t watch your back. “
“ though it pains me to stop dreaming, it seems for now i need the past. “
“ a man can always smile to make it seem like he’s polite, but i know too many times it’s just a place where malice hides. “
“ he holds the power to jump from first place to last. “
“ i know i’m just as worth it. “
“ seems for now i’m trapped. “
“ status quo can’t be our ideology! “
“ things never got better by leaving them be! “
“ i won’t become the one that keeps the future bleak! “
“ i promise you, the fuckin’ buck will stop with me! “
“ don’t think that things are done just ‘cause you gave me little crumbs. “
“ i’m chasing down the sun, makin’ sure tomorrow comes. “
CITY LIGHTS.
“ wait, what did he just say? “
“ there’s those of us in gutters, those on sorts of stages. “
“ this city’s streets shouldn’t be lined with folks. “
“ these are the hearts, the hope, unlike ‘upstanding’ dopes like you, sir, running some kind of hoax. “
“ c’mon man, don’t fuck with my people! “
“ this is my block, these are my streets! this is my town, and this is my city! “
“ we won’t let no sycophantic, greedy, two - faced guy like you come here and corrupt the culture! “
“ the fuck you thinking? we are new yorkers! “
“ we’ll rise above your corporate torture. “
“ they lead us home tonight. “
“ we protect our own. “
“ we protect our home. “
“ you’ll be safe with us. “
“ ‘cause new york city and i will provide! “
“ i’ll be here serving and protecting until the day i die. “
“ no, what the fuck did you just say? “
“ my domain has encountered many a strange thing. “
“ know that, him? he is my people. yes, he is my people! “
“ we’ll channel our power, and for extra measure, kick your ass into the pavement. think of it as the city’s payment. “
“ these are the lights that welcome strangers home. “
“ maybe this city isn’t better off with me looking the other way. “
“ i’ve loved and then i sure have lost. “
“ would you take me? make me feel the same? “
“ life looks to be leading back to you today, and tomorrow, next week, next month. “
“ if i asked you for the night, would you stay? “
“ welcome all the dreamers to this beautiful skyline! “
“ i’m here flying high in this city. “
“ ain’t this swell? “
“ aren’t you pretty? “
WAKE UP.
“ it’s harder . . . it’s harder to think sometimes. “
“ my mind gets foggy. “
“ i start to sink sometimes into apathy. “
“ please, come talk to me. “
“ i’m part of something only few may comprehend. “
“ try not to slip back in again. “
“ it’s fantastic, amazing, how the world can open up to someone. “
“ it’s pleasant . . . the feeling i get when i can bring some sense of fun. “
“ dramatic, but it really feels like i’m becoming someone fantastic, phantasmal! “
“ here i am. i am the one! “
“ watch out! “
“ so run, if you’re hiding. “
“ don’t fear change. transformations incoming! “
#rp meme#sentence starters#lyric starters#rp resource#rp prompts#ask meme#inbox meme#askbox meme#rp sentence starters#( source. ) sig figs collective
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cradled in the arms of death&undeath
my take on zirse meeting astarion.
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as an undying warlock, you gain a feature called Among the Dead. It offers several perks, but most notably the following:
"...If an undead targets you directly with an attack or spell, that creature must make a WIS saving throw. On failure, they must choose a new target or waste the attack or spell. On success or if you target the creature with an attack or spell, the creature is immune to this effect for 24 hours."
i will never not make astarion fail his wisdom save against an undying warlock it's just too funny and makes the stories too interesting.
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Footsteps approached, and Astarion recognized the faces. Especially the person with short, dark curly hair and pale brown skin, leading the pack. He stood a little straighter, and tried to look interested in the boar down the ravine.
“You there! I’ve got one of those brain-things cornered. You can kill it, can’t you? Like you killed the others?”
“Oh, easily!” The leader’s hand fell to her rapier, and she stepped up, chest puffed, like a bloody hero, “Stand back.”
She stepped up into the bushes, quietly, rapier drawn ready for a fight. Astarion stepped behind her, hand on his own blade.
Astarion paused. His hand was at his hip, but… there was no point in drawing it. He took a staggering step back. Head tilted, he studied the person before him again. She… looked human, enough. Looked living enough.
But she was decidedly undead.
She flinched, as the boar he’d been focusing on sprinted from the underbrush. She looked around wildly, before turning to look back at Astarion.
“Wha– Where’s the thing?” She asked. No fangs to notice, though. She wasn’t one of Cazador’s, at the very least.
“I– um– my apologies. The– Those things must have been messing with my head. I could have sworn I saw one.”
“That’s a terrible lie,” Her dark-haired companion snarled beside her– a half-elf with a darkness in her eyes.
“Now, now, Shadowheart. We’ve all been through the hells and back– oh, Gods, literally.”
“You–” Astarion took a moment to gather himself, did the half-elf not know? Could she not feel the necrotic aura around her? There was a holy symbol on her chest, and in her hair– he didn’t recognize it, but he knew a cleric when he saw one. Could she not– “–You were on the ship.”
“Oh, yeah, we were. You, too? I didn’t see you.” Astarion felt his jaw set. She’d walked right past him. And yet, she was so distractingly earnest.
“I saw you. Strutting about.”
“Hahah, yeah, more like sprintin’ about. Terrible time, really. I– I’m glad you made it out. I didn’t want to leave anyone to die.”
He felt his eye almost twitch into a snarl. He could pull his blade out now, but what good will it do? She was bloodless.
And then, like a stab of ice to the brain, he saw things that weren’t his memories. A temple in the woods, old headstones, and a giant, towering, skeletal thing, half-buried under moss and rubble. And then a long, winding road, and a ship– the ship, overhead. Darkness. The worm. He staggered back and clutched his head.
“What– What was that?!” He yelled; this time his hand did fall to his blade.
“Jergal’s teeth, it happened again. They put a worm in your brain, too? Were those your memories?”
Panic cut through him, but then he remembered who he was talking to. “I don’t know. But I definitely saw some of yours.”
“Shadowheart, did you see that?” She turned to her clerical companion.
“No, I didn’t see anything. But I felt it. Your minds touched.”
“Is that what it does, then? Gives us worm-to-worm communication?”
“Apparently,” The curly-haired undead sighed, dark eyes turning from her companion– Shadowheart, what a bloody name– to Astarion again, “As well as… well, turn us into mindflayers.”
“Turn us into–?!” Astarion blinked, grimaced. And then he laughed, dark and bitter, “Of course it will turn me into a monster, what else did I expect.”
“It’s alright, hasn’t happened yet. We’re looking for a healer, you wanna travel with us?”
Astarion had to doubletake. So did Shadowheart.
“You’re taking him with us?!” She hissed.
“What?” The leader looked indignant.
“He tried to kill you with your back turned!”
“What?” No indignance there, just confusion. She looked back to Astarion. He looked uneasily between the two.
“He was reaching for his dagger, you oaf!”
“He was?” She looked between them again, “But he didn’t draw it on me.”
“Does that–”
“I-I thought,” Astarion started, “You might need some help with the– the monster.”
This had the leader beaming, “That’s what I thought!”
Oh, Gods– she was dumber than she looked.
Shadowheart’s eyes practically bulged from their sockets in anger. “And you believe him?”
“Why shouldn’t I? He’s been nothing but forthright with us?”
Astarion tried not to look downright surprised.
Shadowheart’s eye twitched. “Do you normally put such blind faith in strangers?”
The leader gave a cockeyed, warm grin, “I mean, I’d like to.”
“How about we not be strangers, then? My name’s Astarion. I was in Baldur’s Gate when the ship snatched me.”
“Name’s Zirse. I come from Loudwater, just North of Loudwater, actually. I was traveling to Baldur’s Gate myself. Well– was, until… yeah. It’s a pleasure, Astarion. I look forward to traveling with you.”
Astarion was suddenly quite certain this was a trap.
“Yes,” He hummed, “A pleasure, indeed.”
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For all your ocs, so you have something to do hehe :3
👪 💐 (that's something I really wanna see because you create such a good pictures :33) 🎵 🔫
cracking my knuckles. buckle up!!!!!
👪 / what is their family like? what is your ocs relationship to them? does your oc have any siblings?
💐 / create a bouquet for them! what do those flowers mean? are any of the flowers their particular favourite?
🎵 / what is their playlist like? their favourite artists? do you associate a particular song with them?
🔫 / do they trust people easily? how easily will they turn their back on someone? have they been backstabbed before? will they betray someone if given an ultimatum?
cain romero
👪 THE WORST. he had a brother and killed him in a play fight gone horribly wrong but it was believed to be out of envy (it wasn’t, his family were just very catholic). they’ve blamed him ever since. as a child he thought prayer would bring his brother back to him. it never did.
💐 i see a variation of white flowers for him idk. daisies, lilies, etc, but regardless they all blur into a white flag
🎵 not sure tbh but now i think about it, that one line from sun bleached flies by ethel cain that goes “god loves you, but not enough to save you” reminds me of him
🔫 yes and no. yes because who else does he have to trust? no because if he has nobody to trust, why start now? it’s very complicated for him and often ends in broken friendships
nina romero
👪 not great. love was shown through money (ballet lessons) and it was only given if she was good at what she did.
💐 orchids, tulips, and daisies <3 orchids and tulips often reflect luxury and love and daisies are new beginnings :) there’s also something childlike about daisies. and she is always reaching for her childhood
🎵 she pretends she likes classical music to cope with what she dances to but let’s be real. she loves rock n roll but would never ever admit it. ever
🔫 no <3 she doesn’t trust anyone and only just trusts her husband. but she’d never turn her back on someone, especially if it’s to win something. otherwise she’s just proving she really is bad at the skill she claims to have
lou camelio
👪 they hate him. a lot. they hate him for being loud, his identity, his clothes, his arrogance. the list goes on. but to him it’s alright, because he hates them too
💐 in my mind i immediately saw dead, dried roses. he would probably tear them up and put them on a cake. don’t tell him they’re not edible because he doesn’t care
🎵 love that burns by fleetwood mac for his dramatic ass
🔫 yeah to be honest. he trusts a bit too easily, especially when he’s not sober. i think he’d give a stranger the keys to his car for fun. he hasn’t got it in him to turn on someone, but if he did, it’d be him turning on himself
andie franklin
👪 i mean. they’re fine. passive, but quite supportive too. “idk what you’re doing but i love it sweetheart!!!” kinda parents. until she went a bit crazy
💐 peonies, water lilies, and lavender!!! mainly for the smell to be honest, i feel like she’s very physically affectionate and brings you close and you think wow you smell good. also i think it’s a fun mix
🎵 she is a bob dylan enjoyer and she’s way too vocal about it in interviews!!! however she’s mainly inspired by the artists of the new york school, so john cage, earle browne, etc
🔫 no. but when she trusts, she trusts hard. however, if you break her trust, she still might give you a chance. but just one!!!!
sonny dresden
👪 oh they do not get him. they’re all so angry all the time where sonny is quite literally. well. like the sun!!!! he doesn’t know where he gets his optimism either
💐 you can’t pinpoint one flower because sonny loves them all. you could bring him a dead flower and he’d be like aww :) for me? :) but i think he encapsulates a sunflower <3
🎵 hmm i’m not sure. good old-fashioned lover boy by queen seems very him
🔫 yes!!!! because there is so little life why waste it!!!! (<- him even after dealing with the consequences of trusting too hard)
seb van doren
👪 he comes from a family that value rich people although they’re… not rich. no it doesn’t make sense but in summary: he was raised to be a pompous asshole
💐 hmm. he strikes me as a hydrangea kinda guy. i feel like he’d just stand there and look at a bush full of them and be like wowww. then realise he’s looking too vulnerable and look away
🎵 he is so annoying about jazz. big charlie parker enjoyer. you’d think being in a rock band he’d let the jazz go. but no. “maybe we should do more jazz” “jazz is dying” shut up seb!!!!!! nobody cares!!!!! (i care)
🔫 no. end of
bobby montgomery
👪 what family! there is only music!!!! no but really he has no parents. he was raised by his aunt like peter parker. and she’s sweet! but she is also scared!!! scary rock music oh no
💐 violets and bluebells!!!! there is something so delicate and deep about them both. quite like bobby
🎵 he is one of those “i like everything” people. which is actually true. he enjoys listening to lou and seb bicker about different music genres because he thinks it’s funny they’re valuing one over the other. he reminds me of violin by kate bush
🔫 yeah but it’s not deep. when lana said “i’ve found that when you keep secrets, your secrets keep you.”
from here
🔫 no way. as you can imagine her marriage is very healthy! but she’d never betray someone, especially not in the name of a competition. otherwise she’s just proving how bad she is at the skill she swears to have
lou camelio
👪 ummm they hate him. oh they hate him so much. he was
from here
#LORD i wrote a lot#i’m so sorry you literally sent this in a month ago lmao#finally i can answer !!!!#these are not all my ocs because um. i would’ve written a bible i think#ask games#naomi
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Ghosts That Haunt Him
Words: 7.8k
Warnings: Blood, bugsnax spoilers
Fic below
“Thanks again for letting me stay until I could move somewhere else, Scarla!” Filbo said happily, wrapping his arms around his partner. It’d been a few months since the incident on Snaktooth Island had concluded, and most of the grumps who had been fully snakified had finally returned to normal. As for him, once he was back to normal, he ran for the place of mayor of New Grump City, and he won! And given the city had a specific mansion for its mayors, it was time for him to move out of the (now ex-) journalist’s apartment.
“Not a problem, Filbo.” Scarla patted his back a couple times, then stepped away. “I wasn’t just gonna leave my BOYFRIEND hanging, was I?” They smirked, emphasizing the word.
He put his paws on his cheeks, chuckling, and they relished in how flustered he still got when they mentioned it. “I-I’m glad you didn’t! I’m… not sure where else I would go.” He pulled his paws off of himself, eyebrows furrowing. “I wonder where all the others went before the snax wore off.” He thought aloud.
They shrugged. “As far as I know, Beffica went to live with her parents, Shelda went back with her wife, Wambus and Triffany found their old property… I think I remember hearing Snorpy ask Chandlo if he’d come with him and Floofty to stay with their older sister, but other than that, I’m
not sure what everyone else is doing.” They motioned vaguely as they spoke, thinking back. “We’ve gotta get everyone back together to catch up or something, and to celebrate you getting elected mayor.” They stepped forward, starting to adjust Filbo’s sash.
“Everyone sent in their mail-in ballots to vote for me, but, I don’t wanna force anyone to come together and celebrate it.” He chuckled nervously, only to get an unentertained look from his partner.
“Filbo, we all agreed once we landed to try and have solidarity over that damned island so that we didn’t lose our minds. All of us coming together is gonna be helpful because we oughta remember that we’re all still here.” They looked back down at the sash, smoothing it out.
“Not… not all of us, Scarla…” He stuttered out. Scarla gulped as they remembered, having repressed the memories from their head, but not been rid of them. Eggabell and Lizbert had to be left behind because they had saved the group, so their deaths were heroic, but… there was no escaping the deaths that were unnecessary. Right in front of their eyes, the journalist had watched Cromdo’s body fall to pieces, and Beffica let out the only remorse she could over his death. They were forced to hear Gramble’s sorrowful cries as the girlfriend that he’d spent far too little time with crumbled to her death, dying to the thing he had wasted his love on. Four lives were lost on Snaktooth Island, and the rest were left with traumatized heads.
The journalist opened their mouth to talk, only to be interrupted as a car pulled up in front of the sidewalk they stood on. “That’s your ride, Filbo. I’ll come visit you as soon as you can.” They said, smiling softly at him as he picked up his bag and a suitcase.
“I’ll make sure it’s all cleaned up for you!” He leaned over and placed a quick kiss on their cheek, then hopped off, his hooves making loud clicking noises on the pavement. As he was guided by the driver into the car, he shot one more happy smile at them, then shut the door.
Scarla sighed, crossing their arms as the car peeled out, then turning around. “He just can’t not be a cute dork, can he?” With a small remark to themself, they walked back to their apartment. They had a gathering to plan.
~~~~~~
A few weeks after Filbo had moved into office, a gathering on a port by the seaside was planned. Scarla had gone through all the effort to find everyone's social media, or at least try to, and they were successful. But, getting everyone together was the more difficult part. They’d all scattered both around New Grump City and out of it, making coming together a lot more difficult than it had to be. But, they prospered, and the day came.
“What’s all this for, Scarla?” Filbo asked, two black paws covering his eyes. All he knew was that he’d been taken to the port, and his partner had a surprise for him.
“You’ll see, you’ll see. And you’re gonna love it, too.” They smiled, able to see the small gathering getting ready in the distance.
He chuckled half-nervously, but excitedly. “It’s not my birthday or anything, is- is this about my election?”
“Maaaaybe. We’re almost there, Filly.” He blushed at the use of a nickname.
“Oh- you- ha, uh, you’re so mysterious, uh… Sca…” He tried to think of a nickname for the other himself. “…Scally?”
They let out a chuckle. “My parents used to call me that, short for scallywag. Are you calling me a scallywag, silly?”
“N-no! No, your name is just… hard to make a nickname out of!” They laughed at his attempt to clear himself up.
“Yeah, I got that from my ex too. And…” The two arrived at the top of the stairs, which lead down to where the gathering was actually set up. “We’re here.” They pulled their paws off of their boyfriend’s face.
He opened his eyes, gasping quickly.
“Congrats on winning the election!” Was shouted at him from the grumps at the bottom of the stairs, who all had a smile, or something close to one, on their faces.
“E-everybody?! How did you all get here!?” Filbo was shocked, looking around everyone. “I-I thought most of you were around the country by now, like- like Snorpy, Floofty, I thought you two were in Grumpifornia with your sister!”
“The three of us were, dawg!” Chandlo stepped forward to say.
Floofty cleared their throat, and he stepped down. “We were in Grumpywood, more specifically. However, we’ve discovered it’s remarkably easier to get to the other side of the country when our older sister is a famous model who had work to do here anyway.” They smirked, chuckling.
“Mapleline would have been here herself, but she had business to attend to.” Snorpy added, seeming more… relaxed than usual.
Shelda chuckled at that note. “Ah yes, I did hope bringing a plus one was okay. My wife has been asking about you all ever since I got home.” Stepping aside, she looked back at a nearby table. There sat a yellow-grey feline grumpus, who looked the same age as her. She smiled and waved when she realized she was being mentioned.
Filbo stepped down the stairs, smiling. “I just can’t believe you’re all here! Did you… really come out here to celebrate my election?”
“That, and to catch up.” Beffica spoke, shrugging. “It’s hard to not catch up with the people you went through a life-changing event with.”
“We weren’t gonna pass up an opportunity to actually talk to people again, Wamby and I have been so stuffed up with work and findin’ a property that works for us, we haven’t had much time to relax!” Triffany added, motioning between her and her husband.
“Well, I’m glad you all could make it-! Scarla didn’t tell me about this, but we SHOULD all catch up!” Filbo glanced quickly back at his partner, who smugly looked away. “C-come on, we oughta all find our seats and stuff!” With that cue, everyone spread out.
As they did, Scarla lingered at the stairs. They watched everyone spread apart, mainly gravitating to their Snaktooth friends, but they noticed one grumpus not following. He had made himself so small and been so quiet that they hardly realized he was there.
Gramble was easily able to hear their hoof steps as they approached him, turning around. “How’s it been for you, mouse boy?” They asked, bringing a nickname from when they’d first met him.
The rodent grumpus chuckled, putting his paws together. “Oh, it’s been… somethin’ fierce, I suppose…” His voice got quiet as he spoke, noticeably shakier than when they’d last seen him.
They sighed. He was avoiding bringing it up, and they didn’t want to haunt him more than he already was. “Where have you been staying these past few months?” They tried to find a neutral topic.
He seemed surprised that they avoided the subject as well. “I, uh, I found myself a home in an animal shelter. They let me sleep in the back as long as I did work around there, and by golly did I take it up!” His voice picked up, but only slightly.
“Are the animals there cute?” They asked, knowing animals were his thing. A certain part of them thought about how different it could have been. If Wiggle was still there, well, her fame certainly would’ve afforded them both a more conventional home…
“Very! We’ve got a whole lotta dogs and cats there, it’s hard to not just find them the cutest! There’s this one ferret that I like a lot too, and it likes havin’ me around too, so energetic those things… are…” The mentioning of the ferret got him quieter. It was unfortunate that those animals were incredibly friendly, but also the animal Wiggle had traits of.
“…Here, let’s go sit down and talk about all of that.” Scarla offered, holding a paw out for him.
He rejected it. “Sorry, I’ve… got duties back at the shelter. I knew I couldn’t stay for long.” He explained, seeming anxious.
“Not even gonna talk to anyone else?” They asked as he started walking past them.
Gramble looked back. “Who ‘round’ere ain’t gonna find it too awkward to talk to me anymore?” He questioned.
“I…” But he was already walking away again. They sighed sadly, putting their paws down, then looking around. There really wasn’t anyone who’d understand what he was feeling, nobody had lost a lover. Especially a lover that he knew deep down that he had kept pushing away in focus of looking after his snax.
However, the others had conversations far more lighthearted. “I was wondering when I’d get to see you again.” Floofty said, sitting next to Beffica.
She chuckled. “Aww, did you miss me~?” She cooed, getting an eye roll. “I missed you too. Unfortunately, Grumpywood just isn’t where I can quite be yet.”
“That “yet” implies you have plans?” They asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, with my career in journalism completely down the drain, I figured I’d set my sights somewhere else.” With that, she motioned a wide angle with her paw. “I’ve been getting into fashion and modeling recently. Being a pink raccoon grumpus has given me some appeal, if you know what I mean.” She looked back at them and winked.
“I wouldn’t have guessed, but good for you. I’ve been trying to find a district that will accept me as a biology professor and it has been vexing.” Their voice became a hiss at the end of their sentence.
“I don’t doubt that for a second.” She groaned, “Finding work when I caused a sociopolitical dumpster fire isn’t exactly easy.”
“So we are on the same page with that, I am glad.” The two looked at each other, matching one another’s gazes.
With a gulp, Beffica realized there was a topic she had to bring up. “Yeah and… about us being on the same page?” Her tone suddenly got more serious. “What’s the deal with our relationship anymore? We were going strong on Snaktooth and now we haven’t talked in months.”
They sighed. They figured they’d have to confront it soon. “I am… not sure. While I cannot say that my feelings for you have died down, I must also say that we haven’t exactly kept in contact.” They blushed a little as they spoke.
“That can be fixed real easy, Floofs.” She whipped out her phone, smiling. “What’s your number?”
“Hm, so it can be.” Floofty pulled out their own as well. “You know, my sister’s a Grumpywood actress, I’m sure I could get her to help you get some contacts.”
“Really? I’ve never heard of an actress with the last name Fizzlebean.” She almost didn’t believe them.
They scoffed. “Mapleline uses the stage name Mayweather when she’s on camera. I assure you, Mapleline Mayweather is my older sister.”
As the two got into a conversation about their careers while exchanging numbers, the table by them was having a friendlier conversation. “I remember Shelda mentioning she had a wife!” Chandlo said happily, extending his paw to the pale grumpus. “I’m Chandlo!”
The elderly grumpus chuckled. “Shellsy has told me much about you all, I was hoping to meet some of you.” Her voice had a spanish accent in it, as well as being a little broken. “I am Harpila Teachsafe.” She took his hand, smiling softly.
Shelda smiled at the three in front of her, putting her paws together in her lap. “You all would have met her on Snaktooth, she was supposed to come with me, but… Harpy has heard now that it was better that she hadn’t.” The elderly wives looked between each other, sharing a harrowing expression.
Snorpy’s expression flattened, looking between the two. “I thought we weren’t supposed to tell anyone outside about what happened there.” His eyebrows furrowed, looking between the two.
“Well, when I came back home with donut arms, I hadn’t much of a choice.” The prophet shrugged playfully. “I assume it was similar when you found your sister and you were entirely cake?” She nudged at him.
“Yeeeaaah, we realized pretty quickly that it’d be hard to hide. Especially when I was all melon, Snorpy was all cake, and Floofty was all ice cream.” Chandlo said casually, motioning vaguely as he spoke.
“Having sprinkles on my rear was not a flattering image.” The engineer added, getting a rise of laughter from the group.
Shelda laughed, then her expression got a bit more content. “You seem less anxious than you were before. Has something happened?” She asked.
“Ah, yes, I was wondering if someone would notice!” There was a sense of freedom in his voice, and a bit of happy pride. He stood up from his seat, “I finally foiled the grumpinati’s plans for me! And by that, I mean…” He sat back down, “I started seeing a therapist.” He still sounded proud of himself.
The couple smiled at that information. “Good be with you! I am sure that was not an easy task.” Harpila praised, smiling, then turning to her wife. “Un dúo amistoso, ¿verdad?”
“Si.” Shelda agreed, then turned to the two. “How has life in Grumpywood been?”
“I’ve been trying to get accepted into a professional basketball team!” Chandlo said excitedly. “It’s been difficult, ‘cause of the recommended height stuff, but some of the people I've talked to said I could still be useful!”
The prophet playfully pumped her fist. “I look forward to seeing you play in the big leagues, my child.” She smiled at him, and he looked happy at that. She turned to Snorpy. “And what have you been doing now?” She asked him.
“Well, as much as I enjoy engineering, I’m aware that I don’t have a future in it as a career. I have, however, been getting into painting; my therapist recommended it to me and it’s been useful in several ways.” He smiled softly, and the two who knew him before were happy to see him feeling better.
“He’s a really good painter! You guys gotta see his stuff sometime!” The athlete was excited to praise his boyfriend, sitting down to lean against his shoulder.
“Aha, Chandlo- it truly isn’t much, my love.” He said, flustered and chuckling.
“Oh, don’t speak nonsense, chico.” Harpila motioned downwards, getting their attention. “Art is much when it has an emotion to it. If your paintings are meaningful to you or others, then they are…” Her voice drifted, then she turned to her wife. “¿Palabra inglesa?”
“Important.” Shelda filled in, then her eyebrows furrowed. “You’re always forgetting words these days, my dear… It worries me.” She put her paw on her wife’s cheek, looking into each other’s eyes.
“No delante de los chicos, mi amor.” The paler grumpus pulled away, shaking her head. “Me estoy haciendo mayor, eso es todo.” She smiled softly, making a small quip.
“..?” Chandlo sat, confused, with not an idea of what they were saying. He turned to his boyfriend. “Do you know what they’re saying, dawg?” He whispered, wanting to be respectful.
“Something about Harpila’s English getting worse.” Snorpy said, getting a surprised look. “…What? Spanish is Floofty and I’s first language.”
“I thought you two were british?” He still sounded confused.
“…” The yellow grump’s eyebrows furrowed. “We were born and learned Spanish in Mexico until we were five and came here. I didn’t speak English until I was ten.” His eyes became more glaring, and Chandlo knew he was about to get dunked on. “You’ve known me since I was six, Chandlo.”
He chuckled awkwardly, smiling and looking away. “I just thought you were mumbling all the time..!”
Snorpy held in a laugh, his expression softening. “Oh, what am I going to do with you?” He joked as the walrus grump leaned onto his shoulder again.
With that table’s conversation fading quickly into something more casual, the gathering became nicer, and rather more… Content. Filbo smiled as everyone socialized, noticing people’s expressions change and shift, sometimes to despair or sadness. It made him sad, but the smiles soon after told him what he had to know. Everyone was coping well enough, or at least, that’s what he thought.
Scarla walked up next to him, about to ask him a question themself, when he started speaking. “Where’s Gramble?” He noticed and pointed out.
They sighed, leaning against the banister he stood by. “He was… having a rough time talking to me on his own. He left because he thought it’d be awkward to try and socialize with him.”
“Oh no, poor guy…” The mayor squeaked quietly, eyes looking away. “I guess… He’s taking it the worst out of all of us, huh?”
The other shrugged. “Well, none of us exactly cared for Cromdo, but it still wasn’t elating for him to die. And we all know Lizbert and Eggabell were lost heroically, so… That makes Wiggle the one we cared about, and she’s the one who died without reason.” Their voice remained mellow while speaking, not putting on any inflection.
Filbo sighed, looking at them. “How are you so calm while talking about this?”
“Clumby trained me hard for journalism, Filly.” They turned to him, motioning vaguely. “Taught me to think analytically instead of emotionally.”
“Huh…” He didn’t quite understand. But, a part of him felt like he didn’t need to. The two of them fell into silence as those around them still spoke, and the deer grump looked out behind himself, onto the beach and into the sea. In the very far, far distance, he almost felt like he could see Snaktooth Island. He felt like he truly didn’t WANT to see Snaktooth Island, so he turned to the sand instead.
“-?” He made a barely audible noise, not getting his partner’s attention. Glaring in the light of the falling sun, he saw a glass bottle washing up at the edge of the water. Blurry from such a far distance, he wanted to get closer. Even more so, he wanted to get it and dispose of it properly; he was mayor, and he didn’t want litter scattered around.
“I’m gonna go, uh, pick up a piece of litter.” He told Scarla, pointing. “It’s… kinda bothering me to look at it.”
They met where he was pointing, and made a small noise. “Hm. Alright.” They didn’t question him further, turning away. “I’m gonna go talk to Triffany and Wambus while you’re doing that.”
“Alright!” With that, Filbo started walking away, his hoof steps considerably loud on the wooden port. They were quickly muted when he descended the stairs onto the sand, leaving distinct hoof prints behind him as he walked off.
Getting closer, he realized it was not just a glass bottle. He thought for a second that his eyes were playing tricks on him, but he quickly found out the bottle was not empty. “It’s a message in a bottle..?” He asked himself, getting closer. The wind blew through his antlers as he got closer, and he felt like he could distinctly feel it now- somehow, seeing the strange item made his senses intensify. He quickly told himself it was just nerves, leaning down to pick it up.
The neck of the bottle had a cork stuck in it, tightly suctioned in. “Aha, Scarla’s been telling me my antlers seem like they’d be annoying to have! I knew they’d have a benefit to them!” Pulling it up to his antlers, he popped the cork between the branches of them, bringing the bottle back down. Shaking the piece of paper out of the bottle, he unfolded it…
“How’s finding property been going?” Scarla asked, sitting with the married couple.
“Oh, it’s been… a process!” Triffany exclaimed with a tired smile.
“It’s hard findin’ plot I can farm on that ain’t too far from a place she can work.” Wambus elaborated, sounding as tired as his wife looked.
She nodded. “That’s the big thing, anyway. As much as I love my archeology work, I ain’t gonna wake up at four in the mornin’ just to drive there in time!”
“Heh, well, I hope you two find a place you can settle down at soon.” They were happy to see the two trying their best to get their lives to be better again.
“Mmhm, and how’s it goin’ for you and Filbo?” The farmer asked.
“He moved out of my apartment a few weeks ago to live in the mayoral house; I’m wondering whether or not to ask if I could move in with him.” They expressed, looking out over the port. Filbo was by the seaside, holding something they couldn’t identify. “On one hand, it’d be nice to live in a bigger house. On the other?” They turned back to the couple. “He snores like a bitch.”
Triffany held in a laugh at that remark. “I know that feelin’.” She smirked up at her husband.
He huffed. “Yer worse.”
“Mine’s quieter.”
“You do it more often.”
“Snrk.” Scarla chuckled, smiling and getting their attention. “I swear, you two have the funniest disagreements.” They laughed, seeing Filbo ascend the stairs back up from the beach. “But, I’d also hate to stay in a house with you two at night.”
“Ah, well- It ain’t a serious disagreeme-“
“Scarla?” Filbo’s voice suddenly interrupted, intruding upon the archeologist’s sentence. “Sorry to pull you away, but can we talk for a bit?” His voice was nervous, a little more cracked than usual.
“Uh… Sure.” The journalist stood up, glancing around. “Just a minute.” They told the couple, and the two walked away.
“So, um… Sweetheart?” Stepping away from the crowd, he revealed the contents of his paws. “I-I found… something.”
“A piece of paper?” They questioned, holding their paw out.
“Read it- please, read it.” He thrust it into their paws, surprising them. Eyebrows furrowing, they unfolded it.
“You have made far more mistakes than you realize, you so-called survivors of Snaktooth Island. I know every little thing about you. Every little thing about those who you watched and let die. People will wonder what happened to that famous popstar, why would she disappear on her vacation? Because YOU let her. The bugsnax have claimed four lives, and they desire more. They and all the dead will haunt you forever until you let them claim you. - C, A”
They lowered the paper. “…Where did you find this?”
“I-it washed up in a bottle on the beach!” Filbo started, his eyes low and scared. “I…I’m scared of it, Scarla.” His voice fell quiet. “Who sent us this..? How did it get to us?!”
“Hey, hey, calm down.” They waved their paw, getting him to shut his maw. “We don’t know any As or Cs that would send a letter like this. We don’t know any As at all, and Chandlo isn’t insane.” For a brief second, their mind considered their ex-boss, Clumby. But they discarded the thought, she knew nothing of Snaktooth Island other than the story she believed was a ruse. And the first A name that came to mind was one they barely remembered, and who was likely past his prime.
“But it’s saying stuff about the DEAD too, could… Could Cromdo have sent us this..?” He whispered the subject word.
Scarla considered it briefly. “N…No. He couldn’t have.” They put their hand behind their head, a little nervous. “I watched him turn into a pile of bugsnax, he’s… not coming back.”
“That’s what happened to them..?” He uttered quietly.
“To Cromdo and Wiggle, anyway. I’m surprised Beffica took watching it as well as she did, and… Gramble can’t say the same.” Their words flowed into silence, looking back at the group. Beffica and Floofty had now joined Snorpy, Chandlo, and the elderly couple, seeming to be having a casual conversation.
“…” Filbo held his paws together, looking sad. Then, he sighed. “This is way too cruel to be a prank, Scarla.”
“Maybe some estranged fucker who thought they were hot shit heard about Snaktooth Island and wanted to bash us. As much as we objected, none of us are part of the Megafigs, Batternuggets, Wigglebottoms, or Faces, so their deaths still ended up becoming public knowledge.” They looked down at the note again. “…But the bugsnax weren’t public knowledge at all.”
“They were, actually.” He held a finger up. “B-briefly, anyway. They were mentioned as a one-off for the reason the expedition was held, but then the newspaper claimed they weren’t real.”
They lowered the note and sighed. “Well, shit.” They crossed their arms, crumpling the note in their paw. “Let’s just be glad we found it and not some random passerby, or, uh, Gramble.”
Filbo still looked nervous. “Have… have people really been calling us the survivors of Snaktooth Island?”
“I don't think our names were in the newspaper. We were just mentioned as the ten survivors of Snaktooth and nothing more.” They shrugged, pocketing the paper. “Still… At best, it’s disrespectful to give us a note like this. At worst, it’s harassment.”
He nodded in agreement. “Yeah… And, say, uh… Scarla?” He walked up closer to them. “Can you stay in my mansion with me for a bit? I-I don’t know why, this note just made me kinda… anxious? I don’t really wanna be-“
“Yes.” They cut him off. “I will absolutely stay with you in a literal mansion rather than in my shitty apartment.” They took his paws in theirs.
At first surprised, a smile crept onto his face. “Alright! There’s, uh, only one bedroom though… But, it's a queen sized bed!”
They chuckled under their breath, turning back to the group. “We’ve been dating for a few months, Filly. I think I can rightfully say we can sleep together.”
He blushed. “Not like that-!” He shook his head.
But they only laughed him off. “You’re so cute when you're flustered.” They smirked, looking back at him. “Come on, we’ve still got more people to talk to.”
~~~~~~
Later that night, the two were together in the mansion. Filbo squirmed and noticeably adjusted himself, unable to get himself to lie still, and Scarla stared up at the ceiling. They were both thinking of the same thing, the mayor simply being more outward, and that was how they were as a couple; he tended to be expressive and outward, they tended to be quiet and secluded. It was their personal balance.
They turned to look at him, seeing him fidget in the darkness. They sighed, then turned onto their side. “Having a hard time sleepin’, baby?” They got his attention with that.
He turned to face them, though barely able to do so as his antlers stopped him. “Oh, no-! Just… thinking about everything that’s happened recently.” He turned back away.
“Hm.” They looked back up at the ceiling as well. “Got elected as mayor, moved into the mayoral building, saw most of our friends again, a mysterious note came out of nowhere… I guess it has been a lot for you.”
“Yeaaah… But, I’m sure it’ll be fine! I mean, I’ve always got… you with me.” He held his paw out under the blankets, and they took it.
They considered what that sentence meant to him. “…I’ll be here when I can be, Filly.” They said, a bit quieter. “And I’m here now.”
They felt him hold their paw a little together, shifting closer. “Out of everything to come out of Snaktooth, I’m glad you were one of them, Sca…” They could tell he went quiet looking for a pet name.
“You’ve got this.” They encouraged him.
“Sca…” He realized something. “…Rara?”
“Rara?” They were a little surprised, letting out a quiet chuckle. “That works, but… It’s also a type of music.”
“Haven’t you been calling me a baby mare this whole time?” He joked.
“I guess that’s our thing now, eh? I’ll call you a baby horse, you call me a music genre, it can work.” They smiled at each other in the dark, sharing quiet laughter.
Filbo put his other paw up to his face, turning redder. “Ha, I… I wish we could cuddle, Rara.” He still smiled, but sounded a little sadder.
“You remember last time, that horn lock was hard to get out of.” The two had a habit of trying to snuggle only to get his antlers and their horns locked together. “Once you shed your antlers and get out of the sensitive period, we can relish that.”
He sighed. “Mmh, I just wish we could do it sooner-!”
“You could get your antlers removed prematurely if you really wanted to.”
He shook his head. “I always get told I look bald when I shed them normally, I can’t imagine having them gone for longer.”
Scarla giggled under their breath. “You do look bald.”
“Scarla-!” He started laughing as well, trying to keep himself quiet.
Then, it became impossible to be quiet.
“AH-!” He screamed as a sudden crash erupted from another part of the mansion, bolting upright. The journalist was almost immediate to follow, getting more startled by his scream than by the crash.
“What the fuck-?” They remarked, starting to get up. “Did we just get broken into?!” They hissed.
He shook his head, calming down slightly. “No, no, it- the security around here is too good for someone to get in, I…” He started getting up as well, shaking on his hooves. “I-I think something… broke?”
They were quick to be by his side, facing the direction they’d heard the sound from. “Are there any pets around here?” They asked, getting a shake of the head. “Huh… What even broke, anyway?” They started walking forward, their hoof steps loud and clear in the empty building. He followed quietly as they exited the bedroom.
“Huh-?!” Filbo gasped.
“A… chandelier?” They looked down at the scene. Collapsing right onto a dining table, a chandelier had fallen from the ceiling, breaking the table and shattering into pieces. “How the fuck did a chandelier come down at one in the grumping morning?”
The two looked down at the broken pieces, the mayor being petrified. “I… I don’t know-! I don’t think this building is very old, at least most of the decor isn’t…”
“Hm.” Scarla crossed their arms, face scrunching. “We oughta tell someone about that in the morning, I don’t think there’s much we can do about it in the dead of night.” They spoke, watching their boyfriend already turning around.
“…” He was quiet as they returned to the bedroom, quivering. If he was already nervously unable to sleep before, he’d be even worse now.
“…Hey, Filbo.” They got his attention as they laid down again, reaching for his cheek. “There’s nothing to worry about, it was probably just a faulty joist.”
“Mh.” He hummed quietly, unable to calm his nerves.
“…Hmph.” Unsatisfied with that reaction, they moved themself closer, looking intently at him. He looked over at them as they approached, and finally, they went in; careful as to specifically NOT get them into a horn lock, they placed a quick, soft kiss on his maw, then laid back away.
“A-ah…” He was surprised, blinking a couple times, then looking at them. “Thanks, Scarla.“ He smiled at them, getting a soft gaze back.
“Anythin’ to get you to not lose your mind.” They joked, then turned to look up at the ceiling. “Now try to get some sleep, we’ve got a broken chandelier to report in the morning.”
~~~~~~
The mansion Filbo had moved into was mostly modernized, with a few exceptions. One of them was the robust library, which had books of old and new, and a phonograph in the corner. The couch had been replaced with something newer and more comfortable, but it still became a good place to relax, especially since he liked relishing in the sights of his yard.
He was curled up on the couch with a blanket slung over his shoulders, awake at six in the morning. His paws gently tapped a mug of warm vanilla custard drink, which warmed his body as it did his heart, his taste buds flaring up with every sip.
“Awfully cold in here at six in the morning, eh?” He’d hardly noticed his partner appearing in the doorway, going down the step into the room.
“That’s why I’ve got all this!” He held his arms up, showing the blanket and hot drink.
“Heh, figures.” Scarla walked up to the couch, glancing around the room. “Are you much of a reader?”
He shook his head. “No, I don’t exactly have the… attention span, not for long books anyway. Only a few things in here are mine.” Really, he hadn’t touched much of anything in that room. “What about you?”
“I kinda had to be studious and good at reading in order to get my degree.” They sat down next to him, meeting his gaze into the yard. “Of course, that doesn’t exactly matter now that I don’t work in journalism anymore.”
“Where are you gonna find work now?”
They shrugged. “Eh, not sure. Maybe I could get into online blogging or editing or some other wack… Hm.” A thought came to their head. “What did you do before the expedition?”
Filbo was surprised by that question. “Why do you ask?”
“Snaktooth Island was your first time being mayor somewhere, and that's your career now. What did you do before it?” They clarified, seeing a somewhat sad look in his eyes.
“Hooh, let me think… uh…” He gulped nervously. “…I-I’m not sure. I switched jobs a lot, I couldn’t usually hold one for longer than a month, and I never actually got more than a bachelor's degree in college. There’s no way to summarize what I did before the expedition.”
“Well, busy you, eh? It certainly got you somewhere in the end.” He let out a sigh at their words. “What did you plan on doing before?”
“Being mayor was never something I even dreamed of doing.” He started, bringing his paws and drink up to his chest. “I knew a lot of stuff was too ambitious for me to dive into, and I didn’t want to go back to college or a university to get better degrees, so I… never really had a plan. I just tripped my way everywhere and hoped it’d work out.”
“And it did work out.” They said, getting his attention. “Look at you, you’re twenty five, mayor of New Grump City, living in a grumpin’ mansion.”
“I… I guess it did.” He smiled softly. “But, I wouldn’t have gotten here without all of you helping me.”
“Yeah.” They threw their arm over his shoulder, smirking. “I guess you owe me some thanks, don’tcha?”
“Sc-Scarla!” He blushed, ears flattening on his head. They started laughing, getting a chuckle out of him too, when they were interrupted.
By… the gramophone.
It took them a few seconds to realize what was happening as it started up. First quiet and barely audible, it got louder, getting their attention.
Their smiles faded as the crackling music filled the room. It was old-style, but still some kind of jazz, almost like it was supposed to fit their romantic encounter. “Did… did you turn that on?” Scarla asked.
Filbo shook his head. “No, no, what… I didn’t even know there was a disc in it.” They looked between each other, petrified as the music kept playing. The gramophone’s ability to play was worn down and almost pitiful at that point, the music itself sounding like it was dying, as though they’d somehow hurt its feelings.
Gulping as they got up, the bull grumpus walked over and picked the needle off. Backing away from it, they looked back at him. “Do we… tell someone about this?” They wondered.
“About what-?! That we’re being haunted-? Dah…” The mayor looked scared, but simultaneously a little peeved. “They’re gonna put me out of office if they think I’m crazy!”
“Hey now, I never said that. I said tell someone, not tell people who’ll judge us.” They crossed their arms, sitting back down, and taking a sigh. “First the chandelier crashes in the dead of night, now a gramophone starts on its own… What is up with this building?”
“I’m not sure it’s the building, Scarla, remember… the note?” He hissed quietly.
“…” Their eyes widened. “Don’t tell me you think it’s ghosts.” They turned to him.
“I-I’m just saying- we heard a gramophone start on its own! And one of them was into… music…” His own words came to fruition in his mind. “…Wiggle?” He muttered.
They sighed. “Wiggle wouldn’t terrorize us if she was a ghost. Cromdo, maybe, but not her.” They shook their head, lips pursing. “Not that she IS a ghost.” They added.
“…” Filbo took a deep breath, staying quiet. He put his drink down as he got up, keeping the blanket over his shoulders. “I-I’m gonna go in the yard, and ask someone later if we can remove that gramophone.”
They didn’t object as he left through the sliding door, visibly nervous. They shook their head slowly, standing up as well, looking at the old record player. “Could’ve been the wind, could’ve been there without us noticing… It just wasn’t ghosts.”
~~~~~~
With the chandelier replaced and the vintage gramophone sold for a high price, odd occurrences around the mansion simmered down, but did not end. Every once in a while, a painting would be tilted slightly on its side, or a dime would disappear from a table. Things that weren’t so huge to cause panic, but big enough to be odd.
“Have you seen my glasses, babe?” Scarla asked as they walked into the room, glancing around.
“They weren’t on the bedside table?” Filbo looked surprised. “Huh… Uh, I’m not sure.” He shrugged.
“Hmph. Seems like things around here have started going missing.” They crossed their arms, squinting. They sighed as they put their paw on their forehead. “Ugh, I can’t see shit for fuck without my glasses…” They mumbled, walking over to the nearest armchair and sitting down.
“Hey, it’s alright! I’m sure they’ll turn up… eventually!” He reassured them, smiling. “You’ve got a backup pair, don’t you?”
“Eh, I do, but it’s an older prescription than what I have now.” They shrugged, sighing. “What’s even been happening around here? Usually nothing more than a coin will disappear.”
“You’ve been noticing it too?” That got his attention. “Maybe we’re just entering a streak of forgetfulness, I’ve been misplacing all sorts of my stuff.”
“Uh-huh, and have any of them been reappearing?”
“…” His lips pursed, bringing up a finger to tap to his cheek. “Okay, well, uh… Not really.”
“God, next thing you know a fuckin’ chair is gonna disappear from beneath us, this is weird.” Scarla rolled their eyes, frowning. They noticed after a few seconds that he didn’t respond. “Filbo?”
Filbo rubbed his arm. “Have you had any… nightmares, recently?” He asked hesitantly.
“Um.” Their eyes widened. “…No?”
Bad answer; he sighed, noticeably flattening. “Right, right, uh… I-I didn’t get much sleep last night, every time I fell asleep, I kept waking up from nightmares.”
“Do you have nightmares a lot?”
He shook his head. “Never multiple in one night!” He squeaked, hiccuping on his own voice crack.
“Hm… That explains why you’re so exhausted this morning.” The noticeable jitteriness and simultaneous fatigue in his person had not gone unnoticed. “What were they about?”
“…Liz and Egg.” He admitted. “I-it was always them, always the same thing… Kept falling apart, kept failing, kept… breaking…” His voice was soft and shaky as he spoke.
Their eyes widened as they noticed his paws get shakier, the grip on his drink less stable. “Filbo.” They said, not yelling, but still forcibly. He snapped out of it quickly, straightening up like a deer in headlights. “What are you, possessed? You seemed to lose yourself while talking.”
“Oh, I… heh, uh…” He gulped, looking away. “I guess I really didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“I can tell.” They spoke slightly sarcastically, but still with worry. “Do you wanna go back to our bedroom and cuddle, get a few more sheep in the corral?”
“I-“ He stopped speaking when he heard their slang. “…Excuse me?”
“Counting sheep.” They shrugged.
“…Heh.” He smiled, and it grew onto them too. “You’re so… Oh, I don’t know the word…”
“Charismatic? Silly? Funny? Stupid? Sarcastic?” They listed the options as they stood up. “Fucked in the head? Witty? Entertaining? Excessive in several factors?”
“Haha, Scarla!” He got up as well, putting his paw behind his head. “Come on, let’s go.”
~~~~~~
Filbo felt out of control of his body. The world was blurry and dark, a small light coming through from under the window’s curtain. He felt Scarla laying next to him, curled close, but positioned carefully. Their horns were laying on his neck, and he gently moved himself out from under them, sitting up. They remained asleep as they rolled over, letting him get up.
He felt… dizzy. Getting up, he felt like his hooves were shaking, putting a paw on his head. Scratching his fur, he felt like the texture was different… His curly fur was strange. He bought his paw up and back down, and realized the issue; his fur was wet. But, he couldn’t tell from what as he pulled his paw away. It was too dark.
“Huh…” Still lightheaded and dizzy, he walked over to the bathroom door, hanging his head as he stepped inside. Looking up at the mirror, he flicked the light on. “Huh- ah- AAAAH-!”
“-?!” Scarla bolted up, eyes widening. “Filbo?!” They gasped, getting up. Seeing light coming from the doorway, they walked over. “Ah-“
His antlers were completely missing. Blood spilled from each place, far more than a usual shedding would, dripping down the top of his head. His blue fur was dyed a deep red. “H-help-“ He squeaked, eyes wide.
Without a sound, he collapsed forward, forcing his partner to catch him. “Shiiiit- where the hell is the phone?!” They placed him back against the sink and dashed off, trying not to let the sight they saw of blood on their pillow make them nauseous.
Within a few minutes, he was taken to the hospital. Bleeding that much from his head when it wasn’t time for him to made it hard for him to wake up, at least for longer than a few seconds.
“What happened?” A nurse asked Scarla.
They shrugged. “We took a nap, and then… his antlers were gone.” They got a viciously suspicious glare from the nurse. “Hey, hey, I wouldn’t do that. He would’ve woken up.”
“Then why didn’t he wake up? Premature shedding can hurt a lot, especially losing that much blood… How didn’t he wake up until they were gone all the way?” The nurse muttered, checking a clipboard.
“Well, there… Has been a spell of odd things happening in the mayoral home.” Scarla let out. “Our chandelier fell from the ceiling, a gramophone fell down, random shit’s been disappearing, and I didn’t expect his antlers to be next.”
“You’ve been… getting broken into?!” The nurse gasped.
“No, no, we have too good of security for that to happen. But I’m thinking we oughta invite someone over, see if they get it too.” The journalist thought back, looking down at their boyfriend.
“That’s-“
“It’s a miracle!” A doctor suddenly burst into the room, clipboard and files in hand.
“Doctor Quizsparkle?” The nurse was surprised. “What’s a miracle?” They both looked confused at the doctor.
“He had an infection!” She said, “In his antlers, there was an infection, it would’ve spread if he didn’t shed them.”
Scarla’s eyes widened. “But it’s not even his shedding season, did they come off early naturally?”
“They couldn’t have, no, they came off artificially. But somehow, it was still right in time.” The doctor checked her charts and clipboard again. “Other than the blood loss, which is being taken care of, he’s not got much to worry about.”
“His shedding cycle is gonna be a little offset.” The nurse said.
“That’s gonna fix itself, they’re still gonna grow back in the spring. But this is still a miracle, if that infection were to spread, there would’ve been a LOT of things happening later on.”
Scarla looked away from the two professionals and down at Filbo. He was still asleep, heavily bandaged on his head, but stable. “Am I allowed to stay?” They asked the workers.
They looked between each other. “Are you a relative?” The doctor, who’s name tag read Arinata Quizsparkle, asked.
“I’m his romantic partner and housemate.” They figured they’d be allowed to stay.
“Alright, let us know when he wakes up.” She jotted down a few more notes, then left, the nurse following.
The journalist sat down in the guest chair, putting their paws together. “I wonder…” They turned to him, reaching one paw out, and putting it with his. “…Did Eggabell do this?”
Things started to piece together in their head. The chandelier had fallen, perhaps someone had grabbed it and tried to hang off of it; The gramophone played music randomly, and someone they knew was prone to singing at random; Random things disappearing, they knew a thief; And finally, a potential medical emergency.
“Maybe having ghosts after us isn’t so unpleasant after all.” They thought aloud, looking at their boyfriend’s sleeping face. “…But Cromdo’s a shithead for stealing our stuff.”
#bugsnax#tori’s writing tag#Tori’s Month Of Macabre 2022#filbo fiddlepie#chandlo funkbun#floofty fizzlebean#snorpy fizzlebean#triffany lottablog#gramble gigglefunny#eggabell batternugget#wiggle wigglebottom#lizbert megafig#cromdo face
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First Day in the Field
A Remote Part of France
The far end of the Roche yard was a hub of activity, like it usually was before a hunt. Harlow and his forces were moving about quickly, making sure their information was getting spread to the right people. With them were Nessa’s security team, the Roche security force technically under her mother’s command proper still but as Nessa grew Ana took more and more of an ‘advisory’ role to let her daughter grow.
“Alright boys and girls look alive!” Harlow called as he walked along the crowd. “This is a big day! Young master Francis will be going on the field for the first time, as will our dear Patli, and that means what?” He asked, grinning his wicked grin as his team called back in unison.
“No fuckups allowed!”
“Damn right!” He chuckled, nodding approvingly. “We also have some freshies with our teams today, hell of a first day newbies. Try not to scare em off, we don’t make our money back on their training until after a couple weeks.”
Indeed, there were new faces in both teams. Despite their intense work the Roche kept their recon and security teams fairly small, quality over quantity and all that. Exclusively recruited from fields with the relevant skills already, picking candidates already somehow aware of ‘the other world’ to avoid wasting time teaching the basics.
Harlow and Nessa both surveyed their groups, each exchanging a bit of a smirk with the other as they easily spotted the new ones. Even those well used to the supernatural could feel overwhelmed on their first Roche mission, especially one as high priority as this.
“Hey, newbie.” Harlow grinned, grabbing the arm of a passing young woman, long black hair tied into a tight bun behind her head, bright green eyes going wide as she was grabbed, body stiffening like a board. “Report in, name and position.”
“Tatyana Ivanov, just joined the recon team, Sir!” She nearly shouted in Harlow’s face, making the man laugh softly.
“Soldier?” He asked with a smirk.
“Yes sir!”
“Great, first thing, don’t ever ‘Sir’ me. I work for a living, save the Sir and Ma’am crap for dealing with the family proper. Good response though. How long have you been doing this kind of work?” He asked, clearly not meaning soldiering.
The woman coughed softly, still not used to talking about these things openly it seemed. “I was raised by my grandmother, Si-... Harlow,” She corrected herself quickly. “She… knew a lot about the old ways, so I always was raised to respect them. Like I said, though, I was in the military… We were doing a scouting mission in the forest and these…” She shuddered, shaking her head to clear it. “We were attacked by creatures not of this world… I was the only one to make it out. When I reported what happened to the command I was told I had a new assignment and… here I am.”
“Must have served under commander Popov, he’s an old family friend. Tends to send us the ones he thinks has potential who get... exposed.”
Tatyana actually straightened up a bit, seemingly bolstered to hear she had ‘potential’.
“Well, welcome to recon.” Harlow continued. “You’re going to see a lot more ‘creatures not of this world.' Keep your head on your shoulders and do as you’re told and you’ll do well. Remember, despite everything weird these are still just recon missions at the end of the day, you were trained for this.”
She nodded, seeming to genuinely take his words to heart before pausing. “Sir… Harlow… a question?”
“Fire away.”
“You said save the sir and ma’am for the family… are you not a Roche? I was told you’re one.”
Harlow smirked softly at that, chuckling and nodding. “Lesson two, careful with curiosity. It’s a good trait for recon, obviously, but ask too many questions you don’t need and you might just get the answer, sure you wanna know?”
Tatyana gulped softly, but nodded.
“Good girl...” he grinned, reaching up to remove his sunglasses to reveal… nothingness, simply two small pools of inky black. A void where his eyes should be. “I’m a Roche, by name, not blood. I’m a changeling that the family adopted.”
“Oh!” The woman said a bit too loudly, blushing faintly. “I was not aware they… I mean I know they had a more liberal relation with the supernatural than most hunters but… I wasn’t aware they adopted them.”
“I’m a bit of a special case. I was taken by the gentry when I was a baby. Raised in Arcadia. I never knew my family, I think I might have been Polish before I was taken but…” He shrugged, putting his sunglasses back on. “I ripped myself out of the hedge still as a child and found myself ‘free’ running right into a Cheron Group outpost.”
“Oh…” she responded in a softer tone that time, clearly aware of them at least.
“Yea… Ryan and Ilsa found me a fucked up kid who’d been bounced from being a fae’s plaything to a lab rat and rather than just cutting me lose with a ‘good luck kid’ like most hunters, they took me home with them. From that day I made a vow… capital ‘V’ Vow, ya know? I promised I’d always protect the Roche family as if they were my own blood, and they made their own to raise me and treat me as if I was no different than any other Roche child.” He smiled softly at that, the normally cocky or teasing young man looking slightly melancholy as he remembered.
“So! That’s why I’m here, making sure you fresh meat don’t fuck up my vow by letting our dear Roche heirs get ganked on the field!” he said, clearly trying to move on from the emotional subject.
“Of course, mister Harlow!” Tatyana smiled, giving him a salute before moving to join the others. She paused, though, looking back. “In Russia we believe the fae aren’t all good or evil, they’re like humans. Some can be cruel and untrustworthy, yes, but others can be noble heroes… It’s nice to see that story is one of the true ones.”
Harlow smiled as he watched the woman go join the rest of the recon team, a rare moment of letting his guard down when he didn’t notice Nessa coming up behind him and slapping his back playfully.
“Nice group of newbies on my end, seems like they’ve got their shit together. You?”
“Yea...” Harlow chuckled, composing himself quickly. “Think mine are gonna make it too.”
The hunt had been carefully selected, a joint effort by the recon and security teams to get the most controlled environment possible.
“Uh, boss, with all due respect… isn’t this kinda… cheating?” One of Nessa’s new recruits asked, a young man with bright red hair combed and gelled neatly, bearing a tattoo on his neck of the RAF. “I mean… not to talk outta ranks and all but this is supposed to be a hunt, right? We’re securing a whole area, making sure there’s just one thing there, practically serving it up on a platter for em…”
“No no, it’s good to ask.” Nessa answered as she motioned for more of her forces to get in position. The field they chose was a nice open one, former farmland now public land. It wasn’t very commonly used, it took a good few weeks for reports of what sounded like a fairly mundane ghost to even filter through to the Roches. It was perfect for a first training hunt.
“This is a learning hunt, not a real one.” she continued. “This is about giving the kids field experience in a safe, controlled, way while still empowering them and making them FEEL like they did something major. As far as the kids are concerned, we do not exist. You and the recon team will remain hidden, only coming out if a threat is present… and even then I expect you try to remove it quietly first. Call it cheap or cheating or whatever... but this lets a pair of, may I remind you, literal children get their feet wet in hunting without running the risk of being ripped in half by a werebear. I’d consider that a good goal, yes?”
The man nodded softly. “Right, apologies ma’am didn’t mean to question things.”
“No, questioning is good, and now that you have your answer I hope that means you’ll be joining the rest of your team covering the south gate to be sure no mortals or unknown factors barge in.” Nessa smirked, patting the man’s chest playfully. “Dismissed, soldier boy, back to work.”
He chuckled at that, nodding quickly before jogging to meet with the others, he and his team in civilian clothes, looking like hunters of the mundane sort who had made a small camp near the field to hunt in. It was a fairly common sight in the country, most wouldn’t think anything of it or want to bother them, good cover for them as their trained eyes kept watch for any real threats.
Harlow’s team was more covert in their positions. Having done the heavy lifting of study and scouting only a few remained on the field proper to keep watch, protected by ghillie suits and enchanted tools to make them blend into the field nicely.
Tatyana had chosen a more mundane method. A tree blind, covered carefully to hide the already rather petite woman as she crouched on the blind’s seat for stability. Only a detailed look would reveal the faint gleam of a rifle’s barrel sticking through the strands of the blind.
“Watch out! It’s coming right for them!” A voice called right in her ear, making the woman nearly leap out of her position but thankfully kept from pulling the trigger in her panic at least!
“Nice trigger discipline,” the voice continued in a much calmer tone…Harlow smirking at her playfully as he seemed to be balancing perfectly on a thin branch next to her seat…
“Mister Harlow! That is… you can’t sneak up on someone holding a sniper rifle!” She panted, recovering from her scare.
“No it’s actually very easy to, as I just showed. Tunnel vision, dear. Your entire world was through that scope, which meant you were one giant blindspot everywhere else.” He grinned, grabbing an apple from the nearby branch and biting into it. “Good job not winging Nessa or something though, woulda been awkward to tell Alice.”
“What if I did?!” She asked wide eyed, having not even thought that in that fear a stray bullet could have hit an actual ‘VIP’...
“I mean… then Alice would probably kill you...” Harlow answered casually as he took another bite. “Like I said, good job not.”
“With due respect, Sir...” she said, pointedly using that word this time… "Did you come here just to see if I’d shoot your sister’s girlfriend?”
“No… not JUST, no.” Harlow smirked, hopping down to sit on the branch as he did. “Also came to quiz you. Situation report, go!”
Tatyana rolled her eyes, quickly becoming used to her boss at least… "We’re awaiting the arrival of Lady Roche, young master Roche, and…uh… Patli? I don’t know her title…”
“We call her ‘little shit’ mainly, you’re fine. Continue.”
“Right, their ETA is about ten minutes from now provided good conditions. When they arrive Commander Nessa will meet them, explain the hunt, and she and Alice will supervise the young master and… little shit…”
“Good, good...” Harlow nodded, tossing his apple core over his shoulder, though it turned to dust before hitting the ground. "... and what is the hunt?”
“Locals reported a ghostly figure, not disturbing anything or attacking mortals but scaring local livestock and being… creepy I guess. The description matches a local legend of ‘The Smiling Knight’, a soldier from the Frank and English wars who was known for… obviously… wearing no helmet and always smiling even in the thick of combat. A harmless local legend, no reported dangers or casualties… unless you count English soldiers hundreds of years ago I guess.”
“We do not, serves those tits right.” Harlow teased, nodding. “Good, you’d be shocked how far just reading the briefings will get you. So, let’s try a little past the briefings. Got a ghost, not harmful but probably not great to have just messing around anyway, how would you solve it?”
“Solve it?” She asked, confused by the metaphor.
“Solve it.” Harlow repeated. “Hunts are puzzles. They have solutions, sometimes multiple ones. It’s not always just ‘kill the monster’. How would you solve this one?”
Tatyana thought about that seriously for a moment. “Well, he’s not harming anyone, but like you said it’s likely not GOOD for him to be around… In Russia many believe ghosts that linger too long can be driven mad and if he’s that old he may be at risk of that… Many ghosts have unfinished business, I would see about resolving that, if I can do so peacefully I would hope that would allow him to rest.”
Harlow nodded slowly as she spoke. “Not bad... So a peaceful rest for him, huh? Why? Why does this one deserve that, what’s he done or not done to earn that effort when it’d be easier to just banish him?”
“He was a soldier.” Tatyana answered softly, looking at her own rifle. “He was fighting for his people. Right or wrong, he died among comrades believing he was protecting his home. I don’t know anything about this war, frankly. Maybe he was the aggressor, maybe he doesn’t deserve it, but in his last moments he was far from home facing a foe he likely believed wanted to destroy his homeland and loved ones. He deserves at least a chance to rest peacefully after all that.”
“Deserves a chance, huh?” Harlow smirked, patting the woman’s shoulder. “You’re gonna fit in well here. Ease up a bit, being tense reduces focus.”
The helicopter arrived on schedule perfectly, the two children nearly leaping out before it was even fully grounded. “Easy! This isn’t a school field trip, this is work.” Alice called after them with a smirk as she climbed out, Nessa quickly striding up to meet them. The young hunters were dressed for comfort, Francis in a pair of baggy shorts and a loose shirt, his cane clacking on the ground as he got the lay of the land. Patli was dressed similarly, whistling loudly before taking a deep breath, smelling the air around her. “Ahhh it smells so nice out here!” The girl chirped happily.
“Alright kids, front and center!” Alice called, her and Nessa taking a decidedly more authoritative tone than their usual ones as they watched over the pair. “You are here to study the art of hunting, not sniff the air and pick flowers.” she said, throwing a glance with a smirk to Francis as she heard the boy crouching down to smell a patch of wildflowers. “Nessa?”
“Our job today is a simple spectral sighting...” Nessa picked up the speech, chuckling at her own alliteration. “Locals have seen a ghostly figure matching a legend of ‘The Smiling Knight’, an old figure of local history that seems to be harmless so far.”
“Remember.” Alice continued. “We are Roches, not some common glorified mercenary hunter clan.” she grinned, sharing a playful look with Nessa as they both thought of a few examples of those… "Our job and sacred duty to France is to bring ORDER to both worlds, not to DOMINATE.”
“Correct you Roches, save that for the bedroom!” Nessa added ‘helpfully’, making Alice blush slightly and the younger hunters laugh.
“Anyways...” Alice continued, slapping Nessa’s side with her cane lightly. “As I said, we bring order, not dominance. We are hunters, not inherently killers, even of the already dead. Remember that being on the field at this young an age is a privilege, not a right, and one that WILL be revoked if you prove to have not absorbed your lessons deeper than ‘fight monsters and look good.' Are we clear children? We may be your nice big sisters in the house but on the field we are your superior hunters and you will listen to and follow my and Nessa’s commands to the letter or…”
“Archives until pension...” the pair answered in unison.
“Good kids.” Alice grinned.
Soon enough the pair were briefed and sent on their way, the unseen eyes of their family tracking every step as Alice and Nessa remained by the helicopter to allow the kids freedom and to watch their backs. This was meant to be a nice, simple, way for them to learn, but as any veteran hunter knows well even the most simple job can become a trial by fire with only a few strokes of luck.
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3 Terrible Three Questions - Halloween Edition
Question 1: How do you celebrate Halloween? Do you do anything specific to celebrate?
🌰 Oh! My granny and I always used to go pumpkin picking. We’d pick out one pumpkin each, and then go home to carve them. They were never very good jack-o'-lanterns, but we had fun making them. The best part though was what we’d do with all the innards afterwards– we’d bake with them! We’d always make roasted pumpkin seeds and pumpkin nut muffins, and then pick out a new recipe to try, usually one that seemed weird. Last year, we made pumpkin pasta, and it was actually really good! I won’t be home to bake with her this year, but I am still planning to keep up the tradition while I'm at school. Granny even sent me a few recipes to try.
🎶 Not particularly. When I was still attending school in Fleur City, we’d usually participate in the Topsy-Turvy festival instead of celebrating Halloween. Our teachers would have us gather in the square and allow us to enjoy the festival at our leisure. I never liked it much – it was always too bright and chaotic – so I’d usually try to sneak off somewhere quieter. One year, I think when I was about seven or eight or so, I got it in my head that I’d simply walk all the way back to the school. I only made it to Noble Bell College’s main street when I was found and promptly returned to my teachers by one of the students, who’d recognized my school uniform. I didn’t appreciate it at the time, but it probably saved me a lot of trouble…
🏹 Well, when I was younger, I used to compete with all the neighborhood kids at trick-or-treating. None of us would ever play fair, but that was part of the game – we’d all find the sneakiest way to collect as much candy as possible without getting caught cheating. Like, if you just bought bags of candy from the store or got it from your house, you’d get caught for being too obvious, and same for saving candy from previous years or holidays. I always had a winning strategy, though: I’d start early, get my brother to trick or treat with me for double the candy, and have him drive me around to different neighborhoods for maximum candy-age. It definitely worked every time.
Question 2: Do you enjoy horror media?
🎶 I don’t like horror movies, but I do appreciate a gothic horror novel every now and then, especially in the colder months. The idea of exploring an old, secret-filled castle or mansion has always stirred up my imagination, ever since I was a kid listening to my hometown’s old legends… It's admittedly my favorite thing about living in my dorm.
🏹 Uh, yeah, of course! I’m a horror movie champ. I can watch any of those movies no prob, and totally don’t get scared and wanna hide behind my brother or anything… I’ve never understood why he likes all those movies so much…
🌰 Um… no. Horror’s admittedly not my thing. Though, I might entertain seeing a horror movie on a date. The idea of cuddling a partner during a scary scene does have a particular romance to it...
Question 3: Do you usually dress up for Halloween? If so, what are you going as this year?
🏹 Yup! And this year, I'm going as a chimera! Been planning the costume since August, and I’ve already got all the stuff for it. It’s totally gonna wipe the socks off of the judges of the school’s costume contest this year.
🌰 I do enjoy dressing up when I can, usually in something elegant. This year, I’m planning on going as a ghost prince. I found this lovely sparkly white suit on clearance at the formal wear store in town, and I can’t wait to wear it.
🎶 No, but that hasn’t stopped Delano from trying to get me to wear something. He even went out of his way to buy me this vampire costume that... does have a particular classical and gothic quality to it… hmm. I think I'll probably end up humoring him and wear it, just so it doesn’t go to waste.
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Sims 3 kinky world selfie glitch
SIMS 3 KINKY WORLD SELFIE GLITCH MOVIE
SIMS 3 KINKY WORLD SELFIE GLITCH PATCH
SIMS 3 KINKY WORLD SELFIE GLITCH UPGRADE
SIMS 3 KINKY WORLD SELFIE GLITCH DOWNLOAD
SIMS 3 KINKY WORLD SELFIE GLITCH FREE
These prostitutes do not count towards the next generation. You then can use testingcheatsenabled true to "add to household." No significant others may join, only new escorts. They also must be best friends with the person. * Once per generation, your sims may recruit townspeople to join the escort residence but in order to do so they must have the charismatic trait or have all charisma skill points. You do not get paid and you must pay a fine and go home for the rest of the day. If you woohoo with a client in public/or outside the escort resident lot and a police officer happens to be on the same lot as you, then you go to jail for "prostituting". However, your sim can only do this at night after sunset. services.*Īlternatively, your sims may also go out on the town and look for clients to bring back to the escort residence. After a successful date and/or woohoo has taken place, you may type "kaching" into the cheat box and get paid for your.ahem. They cannot make money in any other way unless specified. Sims in your escort must gain clients to date or woohoo with passerbys in order to get money. You must add a bar in the lobby area, and make sure it has several closed off rooms with beds. If you end up buying a smaller lot, you must get rid of your money in some other way (buying trees and other non useful items, using familyfunds cheat, etc) Your escort residence must begin as a seedy and low brow place. You must buy the largest lot available to start off, leaving you with less than $3,000. *Obviously the first thing you need to do is make your escort residence. **This will get updated as I think of more options add to the challenge.*** Seems to be especially drawn to married men, though. Mildred doesn't mind though, since Rita's pretty good at snagging customers, especially the ones that pay well. I think their ideas of fun are pretty different, and Rita never wastes time acting interested when she isn't. Mildred is very keen on small talk, Rita is not. Anyway ĭespite living together, they don't really interact except for when they're counting money or eating. I think she has some sort of ego thing where she doesn't really want to associate herself with other fairies because she thinks they're primitive. She doesn't really fit my usual idea of a fairy she's always been attracted to the big cityscape and glittering neon lights. She probably takes a little too much liberty playing with her health, haha. And she's a fairy, so I guess getting old isn't currently written under her list of concerns. Smokes more than she should too, but she thinks it makes her look refined. RITA WOODRUFF Flirty, Great Kisser// Kinda based off of the "Femme Fatale" archetype, has an unfortunate affinity for the whiskey and gambling. Probably keeps a scrapbook of all the Johns that visit, hahaha//
SIMS 3 KINKY WORLD SELFIE GLITCH FREE
Really loves baking in her free time, arts n crafts too. MILDRED DUONG Neat, Natural Cook// I imagine her taking on the role as the 'peacemaker' once we get more working girls moving in. I noticed a lot of people do the supernatural thing and I didn't wanna ditch my MF save so I moved 'em in there! Non-human sims are more fun to play, anyway. I was going to make 3-4 sims but I'm lazy so thus far I've only made two. There's three bedrooms so far, a kitchen and a bar in the reception area. I built a kind of tacky motel type area for the brothel itself I decided to do this one again, I haven't done it since 2013 and I'd like to think my simming style has changed a good bit since then.
SIMS 3 KINKY WORLD SELFIE GLITCH UPGRADE
I just HAD to share it with you guys! So if you end up having lots of money to blow and need an upgrade to show your brothel's success, this is a perfect place for it!
SIMS 3 KINKY WORLD SELFIE GLITCH MOVIE
I ended up finding this GORGEOUS house modeled after an actual movie set! It's really great if you're looking for a more. I'm absolutely horrid at building houses myself, so my current brothel isn't very appealing.
SIMS 3 KINKY WORLD SELFIE GLITCH DOWNLOAD
So I decided to see if there were any whorehouse lots available for download that I could move my whores into.
SIMS 3 KINKY WORLD SELFIE GLITCH PATCH
It's needed for the sake of my sanity, haha.įor anyone interested in this challenge with a twist, here's a link to my 100 baby version of this challenge: Īnyways, I was playing around with the fire spell of one of my third-gen witch whores when suddenly I got $300k from insurance just for burning a random patch of grass! I'd already almost made $200k, so it's not like I needed the money or didn't already meet the challenge's requirements, but it still feels really unfair since I didn't lose anything in the fire. I'm still working on this one! I tend to take long breaks from Sims.
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Dinosar
#save me from this hell#addicted to buying yarn#he came out a little small but also I could have accidentally made his armor very big#because I was not paying attention :)#he is an ankylosaurus and i made him for my nephews#but there are like 4 of them so I’ll be making more dinosaurs don’t worry lol#but today#well i’m gonna be taking a break#it might not be super obvious but his armor was supposed to go from his neck to right before the ball on his tail#and well it went beyond his tail! so i folded it a little so it would fit better#because i will not be wasting yarn by creating something new when i can just fenagle the old one#anyway he’s blue :) i’ll probably make another one once i like#accrue more experience#i wanna make a big big big one <3
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vignettes of a bond || alpha!bucky barnes x omega!reader
I originally wrote this in two parts for my sleepover but after I realized how long it accidentally became, I've reformatted it, added/changed a few things, and made into a oneshot!
word count: 3.1k
warnings: smut, angst, knotting, violence
June 2nd, 1943, 11:43 p.m., James Barnes’ bedroom
“I wanna do it, before I go,” he whispered against your skin. “But I know it’s wrong. It’s too cruel.”
“No, please,” you whimpered, “I want it. I want your mark.”
Bucky pulled back for a moment and you examined your Alpha’s face carefully, knowing it might be the last time for a long time. “I couldn’t bond to you and then leave you. It wouldn’t be fair… you deserve to find somebody who can stay, and be with you, and protect you.”
“All I want is you,” you whispered. “Please, Alpha… bite me.”
You saw him hesitate for a moment before he leaned in and sucked at your neck, building the anticipation before he finally sunk his teeth into your skin and you cried out, one single tear rolling down your cheek. “Mine,” he growled against your skin as he lapped at the healing wound, “my Omega. Forever.”
“Yours, only yours,” you agreed eagerly.
It wasn’t the first time Bucky had taken you, but that night he really and truly claimed you, left you a desperate begging mess, stretched out over his knot as he filled you over and over.
The next morning, you were still sore between your legs as well as on your new mark, and it took everything in you to be strong as you saw him off at the train station, waving goodbye and praying that your Alpha would return to you soon.
November 9th, 1943, 2:24 p.m., undercover SHIELD facility
“You promised Bucky you’d take care of me,” you reminded him with a little smile, wiping a tear from your cheek.
“I know,” Steve relented, “but we both know I can’t do that. Not in this state. But maybe I can protect you if I do this. Maybe I can protect my country. I owe it to everyone, especially Bucky, to try.”
You nodded. “But I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too. Come see me before I ship out for good, alright?”
“Of course,” you agreed.
December 27th, 1943, 8:32 a.m., your front porch
“You’re lying,” you gasped as you shook your head. “You’re wrong, no, it’s not true.”
“It is,” Steve promised as tears welled in his eyes, “I’m so so sorry, I saw it myself, I had to watch him fall…”
“It’s not true! He’s not dead!”
“I know he loved you so much. He talked about every day, he couldn’t wait to come home to you,” Steve remembered, choking up noticeably. “But he won’t. He’s gone.”
“You don’t understand, I know, okay? I know.”
“You’re in shock, I understand, it’s hard to lose your mate—”
“You’re a beta, you wouldn’t understand,” you dismissed; sure, he looked like an alpha now, but it didn’t make a difference. “Omegas, we know when our Alpha dies, we feel it, it kills us. He’s far away, but he’s still there, I still feel him!”
Steve held you as you sobbed, your body crumpling into his arms. Sometimes you thought maybe he held you too tight on accident because he was still getting used to his new strength; other times you thought he did it on purpose.
February 3rd, 1944, 12:00 p.m., undercover SHIELD facility
“Even when I had nothing, I had Steve,” you recalled shakily, “and now he’s gone too.”
“Is that why you’re volunteering?” Agent Carter asked you. “Because you’d rather sleep for a hundred years than live without your mate and your best friend?”
“I’m volunteering because my mate and my best friend died for SHIELD,” you corrected firmly, “and if I’m not willing to also, then I’m admitting I think they went to waste.”
“Steve told me you didn’t think Bucky was dead,” Peggy remembered.
You winced. “I’m not sure. But I know he’s not coming home again. I came here to give whatever I could to help find him… I was asked to participate in a cryogenics research study. If it helps him, then I’ll do it.”
She was about to get up, apparently satisfied with your final interview, but you stopped her.
“On one condition,” you added. “If James Barnes is found, alive or dead, wake me up to see him.”
She nodded, stepping out of the room and leaving you alone again.
May 8th, 2012, SHIELD headquarters
“Can you hear me?”
You slowly blinked awake, your vision taking a moment to catch up with your mind. You saw tubes coming out of your arms; you saw Steve above you, looking like the day you saw him last.
“Did you find Bucky?” you asked instantly. Why else would they wake you up?
“No,” Steve answered, seemingly a bit disappointed that that was your first and only question.
“Then put me back to sleep,” you demanded.
“It’s been 68 years,” he told you. “You’ve slept for 68 years. It’s time to wake up.”
And you did, more than you ever wanted to, because you realized you couldn’t feel him anymore. Your Alpha was gone. Worse, he probably died while you were asleep; he probably died alone.
One more time, like he had 68 years ago, Steve held you while you sobbed.
August 1st, 2014, 2:11 a.m., Avengers compound, Steve Rogers’ quarters
You ran into Steve’s room barefoot and still in your pajamas, barreling through the door and right into his bed.
“Steve, I feel him!” you rushed.
“What?” he groaned sleepily, looking up at you as he blinked in confusion.
“I feel him again, he’s alive,” you explained. “I know it. He’s weak… he’s hurting… but he’s there.”
“That’s impossible,” Steve shook his head. “It’s been too long, he would’ve died of old age anyways.”
“Don’t you want to believe it? Don’t you want to think he’s out there?”
“Do I want to think he’s alone and I didn’t save him?” Steve hissed. “No, I can’t say that I particularly do!”
“But we still can, Steve, we just have to find h—”
But before you could finish, the feeling left you, and you were just half of something again.
“Oh,” you breathed.
“He’s gone again?” Steve realized.
You nodded, biting your lip as it started to quiver. He sighed and pulled you into a hug. “If I could just see his body, and know it was over,” you whispered, “if I could just bury him, have a funeral…”
“We’ll have one,” Steve decided, “after this mission. We’ll put him to rest. He deserves that, and so do you.”
You nodded into his shoulder. It shattered you into a million pieces but it was still the better option, to try to let him go in whatever small way you could. He would always, always, always be your Alpha, nothing could change that, but a funeral would at least bring some closure.
That would have to wait until after your next mission though… and it was going to be a big one: tracking the elusive Winter Soldier.
August 3rd, 2014, 1:14 p.m., Lower East side
You were a few blocks away, helping civilians escape the firefight, when you felt it.
For one impossibly brief moment, you felt him, stronger than you had in nearly 80 years. He was here.
You instantly got up and ran like you’d never run before, finding the Soldier and Steve locked in a brutal showdown— but his mask was gone now, and you nearly fell to your knees at the sight of him.
“Bucky!” you yelped, but you knew he wasn’t there or you would’ve felt his presence. Your Alpha was somewhere underneath the shell that wore his face, and you needed to find him.
You ran forward just as Steve made a break for it, getting to him just in time to stand between the Soldier and his mission.
“Alpha, please,” you whimpered, clutching at his chest. A metal hand backhanded you to the ground.
“Out of my way, Omega,” he growled, stepping over you, but you grabbed at his ankles even when he tried to kick you away.
“My mark,” you explained hastily, pulling your shirt down some to make sure it was visible. “It’s yours. Do you remember? You gave me this. This is your mark on me.”
He stared down at you, seeming to be contemplating it, and you scrambled back to your feet and faced him.
“I still feel you,” you whispered. “I knew you were alive, I knew you’d come back to me. I could feel you, right here,” you explained as you took his hand and placed it on your chest. “Could you feel me? Did you know I was waiting for you all this time?”
His eyes were watering but he still seemed confused— stunned, more specifically, as you placed your hand on his chest.
“I’ll always be yours, Bucky. I’ll always be your Omega, no matter where you are.”
A stun gun took you down, an array of masked men appeared, and before he could really see you for what you were, he was dragged away and taken to be erased again.
August 3rd, 2014, 9:04 p.m., Avengers compound, medical bay
“I can’t believe we let them get away,” Steve lamented, resting his face in his hands. “I can’t believe they took him again…”
“They’ll be back,” you promised sternly. “They’re going to figure out what I am to him. They’re going to realize I could break his programming. And they’re going to come for me.”
“And when they do?” Steve pressed.
“We’ll be ready. And I’ll get my Alpha back.”
August 3rd, 2014, 9:04 p.m., temporary HYDRA operations facility
"The woman on the bridge... the Omega..." Bucky mumbled. "She knew me... she had my mark."
"No she didn't."
He furrowed his brow. "She showed me..."
Pierce sighed, glancing over to the HYDRA scientist who looked back at him sternly.
"She's too dangerous to be left alive," the man sighed, shrugging in his lab coat. "We can't deprogram a bond like that."
"We'll take care of her," Pierce promised.
Bucky launched from the chair, snapping his restraints like paper. "Touch her and I'll fucking kill you!" he bellowed, tackling his handler to the ground.
Pierce just laughed as another scientist jabbed Bucky with a needle, dosing him with something strong enough to kill any other man but just enough to knock out a super soldier. Pierce stood up and dusted himself off as he watched Bucky go limp and be lifted back into his chair.
"I can see the fight in your eyes, Soldier," he taunted as he leaned into his face. "I know you really would kill me, if you could. The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak, right? But don't worry about your mate, we'll make it quick and painless. Hey, maybe beforehand me and a few of the other Alphas will show her a good time, poor thing's been without her mate for 70 years... I bet she's raring to go."
Bucky's arm twitched as his eyes started to fall shut, a tear falling down his blank and motionless face.
"Wipe him," Pierce instructed to the scientist, turning and walking away as the electric whirr of the machine charging up filled the room.
August 11th, 2014, 3:53 p.m., SHIELD headquarters
Steve was impressed with how accurate and imminent your prediction was; HYDRA was hot on your trail and desperate to eliminate the biggest threat to their Asset. Knowing they were coming made it easier, but it was still a brutal fight.
You and Steve tried to stay together, but they were smart, they used the perfect bait to lure you away.
"Tell me where he is," you demanded from the HYDRA agent as you held a blade to his neck, "then I'll kill you."
"Isn't it supposed to be 'or I'll kill you'?" he frowned.
You shook your head. "Not the way I operate."
Opposite to the reaction you were expecting, he grinned widely. "He's here."
Your heart stopped.
"On the roof. He's here to kill you."
You dropped the knife and ran straight for the stairwell, ascending them like they were nothing and calling out for your Alpha.
You found him there, waiting, gun trained on you. Raising your hands in surrender, you yelled to him again.
"Bucky," you called across the windy roof, eyes nearly blinded by the bright afternoon sun. "Alpha."
"I'm not who you think I am," he yelled back. "I'm not your Alpha."
It hurt to hear it in his voice, but you knew it wasn't him. Cautiously, you stepped closer. "Before you left, you told me you didn't want to mark me and leave me behind," you recalled. "But I wanted it. I wanted to be bonded to you more than I'd ever wanted anything."
He could clearly see you were coming closer, he even tightened his finger over the trigger of his weapon, but he was waiting. You kept walking to him, slowly.
"I've never regretted it," you continued, "not even when I thought you were dead, not even when I had to spent a lifetime-- more than that-- apart from you."
Finally you were face to face, and you stepped closer until his gun was pressed right into your chest.
"You can shoot me now and I still won't regret it," you promised. "I love you."
Shakily, he lowered his weapon. "Omega..." he breathed.
"Your Omega."
He pulled you into him and you sobbed as you felt him come to life in your arms-- the real him, your Alpha, your Bucky. He held you close and breathed against the top of your head and it was like a dream coming true decades after you'd forced yourself to let it go.
But you'd never given up. And now you had found him again.
Agents started to come onto the roof and Bucky spun the two of you around, firing with his right hand and using the left, metal arm as a shield for you.
He carried you and you didn't even know where he was taking you, but it didn't matter. In his arms, you were home.
August 12th, 1:03 a.m., Avengers compound, your quarters
You hadn't stopped coming or crying for at least an hour. Bucky had all but split you open on his knot all night and he didn't show any signs of stopping.
He apparently intended to make up for lost time. And you'd lost a lot of time.
"Just one more, I know you can give me one more," he groaned furiously rubbing your clit as his knot began to swell again.
You could give him anything, as long as he asked for it like that.
You'd lost count of how many times he'd told you to come for him, and how many times you did it immediately.
"I can see how full you are," he whispered as he rubbed your stomach gently. "So much seed in you that your body can't hold it all."
You looked down and yep, you were distinctly bloated from his come alone; it made you a little dizzy to even look at it.
"The idea of you alone during your heats, no one to protect you, it kills me," he explained with a growl. "I won't let you go again. I can't."
"Then don't," you sighed. "Never leave this bed, fill me with everything you have."
"Did anybody ever help you through them? The heats?" he asked. "I wouldn't blame you, they can be so painful... I just need to know so I can make sure you forget about them."
"No, Bucky, never— I never let anyone touch me."
"Steve could've helped you, at least some..."
"He wouldn't have, he loves you too much. And I wouldn't accept anything less than you, ever. You're my Alpha. We're bonded. There's never anyone else."
That didn't seem to satisfy him, his eyes darting away as he swallowed. Your gut sank with the realization he probably wasn't being totally honest about why he asked.
"Your ruts," you gasped. "Were you alone for all of them?"
He shut his lips tighter.
"Bucky, it's okay, just tell me. I was asleep for 70 years, I skipped most of them, but you... you had to live through them all."
"They gave me betas, and omegas," he mumbled, "but I don't... I don't really remember. I know they wanted me to. They threatened to hurt me if I didn't, because they knew I'd go crazy after so many ruts alone, but I can't remember if I really did it. I remember... I remember crying, and begging for you."
"Alpha," you breathed as you felt new tears run over the stains of your old ones. "It's okay. Whatever happened, it's okay now. We're together again. Everything's okay."
You wiped his tear away with your thumb, holding his face tightly, weaving your fingers into his long hair.
"I'll always be your Omega," you promised.
He leaned in closer to you, kissing your cheek before pulling back a little. "It's faded," he whispered as he ran his thumb over the mark on your neck. "The last time I saw it, it was still fresh."
"It's older, sure, but it's stronger than ever, Bucky."
August 14th, 10:12 a.m., Avengers compound, residential area kitchen
Steve's eyes went wide when he came into the kitchen for breakfast and found you there, steeping your tea. "Surprised to see you out of the love nest so soon," he smirked.
"It's been three days, I don't think that counts as soon," you scoffed.
"It does to him," Steve frowned. "He's asleep, isn't he?"
"Yep."
"I know he wouldn't let you out of his sights if he was conscious," Steve chuckled.
At that moment, you heard Bucky call your name and run out into the hall, only a bedsheet covering his groin as he appeared in the doorway. You spun around and smiled when you saw him come running towards you, embracing you with his free arm.
"You should've told me you were leaving, I got scared when I woke up without you," he admitted weakly.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to make you worry!"
He pulled back and clutched your face in both his hands. "I'm waking up next to you every morning for the rest of my life, you understand?"
You nodded dutifully. "Yes, Alpha."
"One hand on the sheet, please, Buck?" Steve winced, looking away.
“Whoops,” Bucky groaned, reaching to cover himself as you laughed softly.
“Let’s go back to bed, baby,” you decided quietly, taking Bucky’s (free) hand in yours and waving goodbye to Steve, who was already making his way as far out of earshot as possible.
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venom: let there be carnage. sentence meme.
“ you do not deserve to have nice things. ”
“ those two need some serious couple counselling. ”
“ you could just say: i’m happy for you. ”
“ i’m so sorry, i don’t know what came over me. ”
“ i miss her. ”
“ you blow everything. ”
“ you’re talking about [name] again.”
“ if one more head goes missing we’ll be hauled off to area 51. ”
“ look at all those weirdos ! my kind of people. ”
“ time to die.”
“ i am going to make you cry now.”
“ i’ve been thinking about you, [name].”
“ people love serial killers.”
“ because you and i are the same.”
“ what’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine.”
“ i have tasted blood before my friend and that is not it.”
“ all i ever wanted in this world is carnage. ”
“ i’m not a crazy man, but i am a vengeful one. ”
“ you feel like home to me. like family. ”
“ soon come chaos. chaos, soon come. ”
“ every hero has an origin story. ”
“ who said romance was dead ? ”
“ it is only found in brains and chocolate. ”
“ i’m just… hanging around. ”
“ are you pen pals with an ant?”
“ i herby invite you to witness my demise. ”
“ it was a circus of hell with one bright light… ”
“ you suck.”
“ this is a me thing, not a we thing. ”
“ everything is a ‘you’ thing. ”
“ [full name] has a big secret.”
“ something wicked this way comes. ”
“ please, i got a family. ”
“ any last words ? ”
“ on a scale of 1 to 10, it’s 11 bad.”
“ information is currency.”
“ crapola. another one bites the dust. ”
“ he/she/they kept me hidden because he/she/they was ashamed.”
“ you’re never getting out of here. no one does. ”
“ that is so hot.”
“ my dream car. ”
“ people are talking about seeing monsters. ”
“ you know what secrets want? they want out. that’s why they are so hard to keep. ”
“ you wanna break his heart too?”
“ [name] is gonna have to fix all this by his little bitch self. ”
“ no one likes you [name]. ”
“ let’s go save that asshole. ”
“ you are a cancer to everyone who ever loved you. ”
“ we are wasting our talents. ”
“ we found you. ”
“ what do they say about an eye for an eye ? ”
“ you’re going to watch her/him/them die. ”
“ i wanted your friendship. ”
“ it’s me they want. ”
“ i made you special. ”
“ this isn’t about being a hero. this is about wanting to live in peace. ”
“ you’re not dead ? ”
“ bad things happen around you. ”
“ my angel, this is for you. ”
“ my powers are too strong. ”
“ welcome to your new home. ”
“ your old boyfriend/girlfriend is finally getting what he deserves. ”
“ take your tiny hands off of me. ”
“ you are a bottom feeder. ”
“ he read me poetry. ”
“ the only scoop i am getting today is double chocolate chip. ”
“ i think I’m pablo picasso. ”
“ you said i could eat bad guys ! ”
“ i can not live like this anymore. ”
“ i cannot live on chicken and chocolate alone. ”
“ you live in my body, you live by my rules. ”
“ i can’t with this grossness. ”
“ she did not know she needed our help. there is a difference. ”
“ fuck this guy.”
“ is [name] with you ? ”
“ 80 billion light years of hive knowledge across universe would explode your tiny little brain. ”
“ you made me feel like i was on a rollercoaster. ”
“ are you hiding stuff from me ? ”
“ i am not okay. ”
“ the chocolate delivery hasn't arrived yet. ”
“ commitment’s just not your thing. ”
“ what's gonna happen ? you're gonna stop protecting me ? ”
#sentence prompts#rp meme#sentence meme#rp sentence meme#dark rp meme#venom 2 meme#venom 2 sentence meme#venom: let there be carnage#let their be carnage sentences#superhero meme#film prompts#movie prompts#rp sentence starters#roleplay prompts#rp prompts
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