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screampied · 29 days

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‘ I JUST WANNA HEAR YOU S(C)REAMMM ! ’

ᡴꪫ sum. what’s your favorite scary movie? is it carrie? psycho? or maybe nightmare on elm street? perhaps picking up the phone was a bad idea, but you don’t scare easily! or do you?

wc. 6.0k

warnings. fem! reader, ghostface geto & ghostface nanami, college au, threesōmes, unprotected, brief phone sēx, roleplay, dirty talk, praise, overstim, implied multiple ōrgasms, spit, manhandling, brēeding, hair pulling, oral (f & m receiving), cowgirl dp.

an. from this ask!

“hello.”

“hello?”

“what’s your favorite scary movie?”

you deadpan, almost as if you’ve seen this movie before. it was around close to midnight. you were the only one sober at some random frat party you got dragged to. everyone besides you were probably wasted or shoving tongues into mouths. sitting up on a cushioned bed, you hold the landline up to your ear. “mean girls two. bye.”

“….girl what? that’s not a—”

you hang up, averting your eyes back towards the tv screen that displayed some cheesy soap opera. about precisely thirteen seconds pass before the landline screeches a loud deafening ring again.

sighing, you answer it. “stop calling this number. prank calls aren’t funny.”

“no.” the voice replies, and it’s very deep—you swear you’ve heard something like it before. a best way to describe it was that it had a gruff pitch to it, baritone running all underneath it. his voice was also a bit sly too. “i just wanna talk to you.”

“bother some other girl. bye.”

“don’t hang up on me.”

for whatever reason, you don’t hang up. his voice sounded a bit stern—you sit up before growing quiet. you’re fully alert now.

“good girl. now, i’ll ask again. what’s your favorite scary movie?”

pressing your back against the comforter, your thighs squeeze together. with another vexed sigh, you say the most random movie that comes immediately to mind. “halloween.”

“pft. basic.”

“wha— you’re the one who asked.”

“oh, doll i’m just joking. but anyway, you like slasher movies, yeah?”

for whatever reason, the more you talked to this total stranger, you start to feel a sudden uncanny stir delve around your stomach. you weren’t scared, yet at least, but it was oddly peculiar. his voice sounds a bit familiar the more you listen to it. with how teasing the caller on the other line appeared, it was strangely intriguing. you kind of didn’t wanna hang up anymore, besides this party you were at was quite … not the best.

“not really. i am a jamie lee curtis fan though, i only watched because i make fun of the deaths.” you mumble.

“hmmm,” the voice hums through the other end. it’s as if he’s pondering what his next choice of words will be to you. “so…you got a boyfriend?”

you were taken aback by how abrupt the change of subject was. the man on the other end laughs at your awkward silence before you finally speak.

“no, and it’s not like it’s any of your business.”

“easy, girl. i’m just curious. besides, what if i wanna ask ya out?”

you grow quiet again before rubbing your neck, you were growing a bit hot.

“whatever. no, i don’t have a … boyfriend.”

“ooh. you hesitated there.”

you grumble. “shut up. i’m hanging up.”

the man immediately replies with a chortle.

“wait, wait. heh, serious though. you never told me your name, doll face.”

with an eye roll, you utter, “why do you wanna know my name?”

“because i wanna know who i’m looking at.”

“what?”

each word he spoke breaks through the phone due the deep mess of his voice. a few rough sparks from his dialogue punctures through the soundbox of the device. again, he did sound oddly familiar. you just couldn’t put your foot on it.

the man chuckles before responding in a more sly tone—changing the subject again.

“you know doll, you sound kind of out of breath. call me crazy, but before i called you, were you playing with yourself?”

your legs suddenly squeeze shut, you were wearing one of your borrowed hoodies and shorts underneath. any sane person would have hung up eons ago, but for whatever reason—you felt your heartbeat start to race. the more you listened to the deep voice on the other end, the more you started to grow more curious. what’s wrong with playing around for a little bit? besides, what’s the worst thing that could happen—you dying?

you scoff, thinking this was nothing more than a dumb prank call—you decided that playing along wouldn’t hurt. you had nothing else to do anyway.

“so what if i was playing with myself?”

“i bet you didn’t even make yourself finish, doll.”

his voice, the more it spoke in that rough pitched tone—you couldn’t help but press the landline up to your ear just a bit further. you furrow your curled up brows, lowering your guard a bit. probably foolish, maybe you’d regret this later, but alas, reality wasn’t on your mind at the moment.

“are you saying you can make me finish?” you mutter, growing amused now.

“oh i know i can. i can make you get off from just from my voice alone.”

he was toying with you, but it was too late to back down. you intake a honed breath before humming.

“okay, prove it then.”

he chuckles.

“mhm. take those panties off first. actually no, slide them to the side for me.”

you really felt like you were in a movie, shamelessly at this random guy’s beck and call. as the show played in the background, you press the middle part of your thumb against the volume button to turn it down four notches. the room was practically silent now, the only noises heard were from the blaring beat drops of edm music downstairs. sprawling your legs out, you creep a shaking hand between your thighs.

the voice grows quiet, you finally move your panties toward the side before slouching back against the pillow.

“you must be really bored. talking to a random girl at the m-midnight.” you exhale.

“heh, m-maybe,” he mocks your falter. “but i’m sure you’ll keep me entertained with that cute voice of yours.”

he was so smooth. smooth as if he was prepared for every word that flew out of your mouth. as your fingers glide against your now exposed entrance, you let off a shaky breath.

he was right, out of boredom you tried to play with yourself— yet, that didn’t work out because you could never make yourself finish. your attempt was basically useless. with a frowning pout, you reply. “now what?”

“finger yourself, silly. and i wanna hear, put the phone up against that pussy for me, doll.”

he was filthy.

you felt yourself start to throb before removing the landline from against your ear and placing it right against your doused entrance.

with heavy jagged breaths becoming more irregular, the person on the other line hears the wet sloshes of your cunt up against the phone. again, he grows quiet—it’s almost like you can make out his deep attractive breaths and it makes you pulse even more.

“bet you’re so nice ‘n soaked. sounds so sloppy.”

gnawing on the softness of your bottom lip, your thumb briefly skims past the nub of your clit and you whine. you were already a bit sensitive from before, starting to stroke your fingers against it. bringing the phone back up to your ear, you ease a single finger inside. it feels warm—you were slick, coating your own finger with a nice amount of your obscene arousal. it doesn’t take long for you to start to pant, slithering another finger inside of your cunt before moaning. it fits nicely, nice and snug.

“you sound so pretty. i want you to imagine those are my fingers, pretty girl. can ya do that?”

“y-yeah,” you start to stammer, feeling a sudden spongey texture inside of you—you gasp, not expecting to reach your sweetened g-spot so soon. it was a mere bumpy texture, gloopy gummy walls involuntarily accepting your two slender fingers with an open gesture. “fuck, ‘m still a bit sensitive.”

he guffaws lowly.

“yeah, i bet you are. poor baby can’t even make herself cum.”

you swallow, the playfulness in his voice making your thighs start to tremble a bit. with relaxed fingers stretching throughout your walls, you focus on your breathing. each pant that came out of your hot breaths seemed like it was gonna be your last. after a while, your toes start to curl up in pure pleasure—you moan, feeling a sudden rush of weightlessness nirvana overtake you.

“find your g-spot for me. tell me when you do.”

“i- i already found it,” you whine, a sheaf of nerves that store inside of your pussy pulsating at a rapid speed. your head throws itself back as you’re just moaning melodically. “fuck, why don’t you just come over ‘n finish for me already.”

the voice laughs again.

“yeah? you want me to come over instead? maybe i should use my tongue since your fingers are so useless, dollface.”

at this point, you didn’t really care. maybe making simple rational decisions today just wasn’t in your favor. the eerie voice, each second you spent listening to it the more aroused you became. maybe getting off to a pure stranger’s voice was embarrassing but you were feening. the air felt suddenly thick. so thick you could cut it with a knife. with your bottom lip being chewed on like gum, you briskly shiver. cold, wintry air wafts against your skin and you moan for the nth time. an unforeseen chill runs down your spine before you hold back yet another whine.

“f-fuck, just come ‘n finish for me. i can’t do it. please.”

he grows quiet for a solid good four seconds before replying in a cheeky tone.

“okay. turn around.”

your panting stops and instantly, you turn your head the other way—of course, no one was there. figures, the only things your eyes were met with was the wooden headboard. with a disappointed grimace, pulling your occupied fingers out of your cunt, you turn back around. as you’re about to speak into the phone again, you open your mouth before pausing.

there, you’re met face first with what appears to be some guy in an infamous ghostface costume. he was tall, staggering inches on him before you don’t see one but two. they both had the same getup, ghoulish ghost mask, a long black robe, and the same spectral, tilting head-stance.

one of them takes off a mask and it’s suguru geto, your roommate.

your eyes concisely widen. once he yanks off the mask, his silky well-kept black strands fly loose. no wonder the voice sounded a tad bit familiar. the other removes his mask and it was nanami, two of them—now you really felt like you were in a movie. “you always did say how much you liked scream,” and then you glance at nanami who had a sheepish expression. “don’t be shy now, someone’s gotta help ya finish.”

“o-oh,” you remember, sitting up against the bed. now you were embarrassed. just a few seconds ago, you were getting off to your roommate’s voice. suddenly, you felt even more hot. you did end up talking their ear off about your adoration for the beloved franchise, ranting about your cute little ghostface obsession.

truth be told though, you didn’t know they’d make it a sheer reality for you. the two of them get on the bed towards you before nanami brings a gloved hand to your chin. he strokes your chin softly, and geto moves underneath.

“sorry princess,” he whispers. “suguru wanted to scare you but i told him we should just show ourselves,” and as he’s speaking, you get lost in his soft, honeydew eyes. such gentle compared to geto who was a bit more—crazed. “he didn’t scare you too bad, did he?”

you moan once you feel geto run a thumb against your already exposed cunt. with a firm head shake, you huff. “no, n-not really.”

“aw what. i thought i was pretty scary,” and you whimper out once he blows against your folds. for a concise moment, geto stares up at you—dark eyes keeping a strong gaze on you. “tell us what you want, pretty girl. you want us to help you finish?”

you nod, feeling geto spread your legs apart further.

nanami, with a gloved hand purses your lips together, forming them into a tight squeeze before humming. “words, princess. use them, okay?”

the more you feel geto’s breath fan against your clit, teasing you—you were about to go feral. you stare up at nanami before letting off a sweet whine. “i- i want you both to help me finish,” you stutter out, stumbling over your pathetic words like you’d stumble with an untied shoe. “make me cum, please kento.”

he leans in to kiss your forehead and you hear geto scoff underneath. “i’m the one between your legs but whatever,” and you feel his soft lips kiss against your pussy. “kento, keep her distracted for me, will ya?”

“you’re so pretty,” he mutters, lightly lifting up your chin. as he wore black gloves—the fabric gently brushes against your lip, popping a thumb into your mouth. he doesn’t expect for you to happily take it in his mouth, sucking on it. “oh,” he breathes, a bit speechless. you stare into nanami’s eyes, swirling your tongue around his thumb in such an erotic way. lowly hooded eyes stare at him the entire time, you moan once you feel the flatness of geto’s tongue run against your sweet clitoral hood. his tongue—the texture of it was so cold, the moment he digs in he makes you know the pure definition of sloppy. all with his tongue, he slowly flicks it against your nub before delving his tongue deeper between your soddened folds. nanami pulls your chin to face him again before softly purring, “don’t look at him, look at me pretty girl.”

as your eyes focus back towards nanami, you could already feel your legs quavering. you felt hot, the lewd way geto drags his tongue against your pussy makes you gasp out three strained second puffs of air.

“k-kento,” you moan, pawing your hands at the low part of his robe. he watches, lowering his head at you before you reach there. nanami’s bulge, he has an abashed expression as he realizes what you were fondling at. “take it off.”

“ah, ask nicely,” he coos. your lips were now glossed with your own spit he smears against you as he pulls his gloved thumb out of your mouth. even though nanami was more tame than geto, his voice had a bit more dominance in it. he grabs your chin gently, cocking his head toward the side. “tell me what you want ‘n i’ll give it to you.”

your legs felt like they were standing on its last few hinges—geto’s tongue runs down your slit, taking a moment to depart his lips and spit on it, only to then lap it up again. a few annoyed grunts escape out of him partially due to his long strands of hair getting in the way. “so sweet,” he mutters, you whimper once he prods two fingers against your outer entrance. every few seconds he’d kiss near your thighs, leaving a few bite bite marks before focusing back towards your folds. “mhm.”

barely even able to keep focus, you gaze back up at nanami who’s standing near the edge of the bed—you’re laid back against the pillows with geto between your thighs. finally, a sweet mewl of words leave your glazed lips. “i- i wanna taste, ‘ken. wanna suck you off,” and he gives you a playful eyebrow raise, prying his pink lips open a few inches apart before you correct yourself. “pretty please.”

“better,” he murmurs, a hand of his reaching towards your head to give it a good pat. “good girl. go ahead, lift it up ‘n enjoy the meal.”

with a soft slackened sigh, you lift up the obsidian black robe. you’re met with ripped jeans, for some reason you just figured he’d already be sprung out for you. as geto’s still lapping up every drop of your taste, you unzip his fly before yanking down his pants. you were so impatient— and with geto’s demented pace, you were getting close. he chuckles, watching you struggle with the zipper for a bit before finally reaching near his boxers. they were a cerulean blueish color, his bulge was just appetizing. the entire shape of it, you felt yourself starting to drool the longer your eyes made direct contact against it. so rounded and full. with clammy hands, you tug them down before his thick cock springs out.

“it’s okay,” he whispers with a nod, watching you glance up him—a silent gesture as a way of asking if you could go further. nanami brings a hand towards the crown of your head, gingerly massaging his fingers through the crevices of your scalp. “you can be a little messy for me.”

a wretched whine that was raw rips from your throat once you feel geto’s tongue latch against your cunt. by now, he was sucking against your folds. the squelches were so sloppy, a hand of yours grab onto his hair for leverage and he shoots you a sly smile.

“don’t be shy girl, yank on it.”

dark pooled irises linger into yours for a long time before you get a good grip of geto’s hair, dragging him closer towards your entrance. over and over and over.

he giggles, hot breath ghosting against your folds and you throb even more. with dilated irises staring back towards nanami, you wrap your free hand around his length—he was so thick, such full balls that you just wanted to run your tongue all across it. he had a few veins skim down his beige, weighty cock. you could make out a few drops of lustrous pre-cum that decorates near his very tip. “u-ugh,” he shakes, the warmth that your tongue provides has him smothering his lips together. nanami watches, you’re slow but deadly.

pursing your lips together, you gradually start to sink him into your mouth.

geto’s still between your thighs, shoving two fingers in and out of you now—he surrounds your clit with his mouth, the suction he creates with just his lips was brutal. you’re moaning, even whilst your noises were pretty much muffled due to nanami’s fat cock. “easy,” he whispers, tapping a thumb against your cheek. “no teeth, okay? you’re doing s-so good.”

nanami groans, goading the same thumb against your cheek before you inch yourself further and further down. he has a shy smile at the way your hair forms in musses due to his tight grip. within no time, your throat’s already stuffed and few droplets of your own saliva trickles down the sides of your mouth. geto’s still making sure to thrust his gloved digits in and out of your soaked cunt and you don’t know which roommate to focus on.

“m-mphm,” was all you could manage out, your legs in a swift spread-eagle position. as you’re outstretched, you feel yourself about to cum. you’d recognize that feeling anywhere—the feeling when a swelling pool of heat residing inside your stomach tickles throughout your entire abdomen. that same feeling of nirvana courses through your veins as you’re now leisurely bobbing your head. every time you pull on geto’s long hair, he grunts—spanking your clit in response and that only causes you to whine for more. nanami strokes your face as he starts to feel his dick prod against the roof of your mouth. for a split second as you’re breathing through each nostril—you gag, long lashes fluttering in sync together.

your legs couldn’t hold still, geto’s continuously pushing you towards your limit before you whimper out. your tongue lathers over the splotches of pre-cum that paints nanami’s tip a pretty shade of snowy white.

he just couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, especially not with a face like that.

low eyes, sheepish smile, furrowed eyebrows. you’re convulsing profusely all in geto’s mouth, the sides of your thighs occasionally hitting against his face and he titters. “such a sloppy m-mouth,” nanami inhales deeply, and he starts to gently drag your head against his cock. he’s got your mouth filled with so many inches—your cheeks were all puffed up from his immense length, sheeny slobber emanating all down the sides of your mouth before he pants. “gonna make such a mess ‘n your mouth, princess. ‘s that what you want?”

you nod, feeling the vein that runs down his girthy cock twitch in your mouth. you moan, he’s feeling weightless—you’ve got his knees trembling, a hand’s still attached to your head like velcro before gyrating your tongue all over the crownhead of his shaft. “such a pretty face,” he gruffs lowly, swiftly pulling your hair side to side to take every inch. “s-shame i gotta ruin it a little.”

even nanami’s dirty talk was tame— it was cute to witness, the way his blond brows would tug into a furrow. he’s so pent up, and out of nowhere—you feel a sudden rush erupt within your cunt. before you could even react, you end up cumming hard. it shoots out of you like a rough wave, it’s such pure bliss that it takes you a few seconds to realize. geto’s making out with your pussy, slowly sliding his two protected fingers in and out of your sopping wet entrance and you shudder. “what a fuckin’ mess,” he hums, taking sight at how saturated you were. as geto laps his tongue against your folds once more, he stares back up at you and nanami. “aw. look at you two,” and he leans down to kiss your forehead. “slobbin’ everywhere, messy girl you are.”

your eyes go back up towards nanami, he’s sweating.

he felt as if the fabric of his robe stuck against his skin. while he’s holding it up with one hand, you sneak a stare at his abs, perfect washboard abs that looked quintessentially sculpted against his body. “g-gonna cum,” and he stares at geto, growing a bit flustered once all attention’s on him. “suguru, don’t just stand there. p…praise her.”

geto scoffs, kneeling beside you on the bed before moving a few strands from your face. “so bossy,” he grits before giving you your second head pat. he leans up close to your ear, grabbing the voice changer again and brings it up to his lips. “c’mon, doll. make ‘ken cum, yeah. doin’ so good for us. you’re gonna make him whine for you, heh.”

nanami’s legs felt like mush, he throws his head back, his long black robe syncing with his movements before he’s gently pulling your head against his thick cock. he shudders, welts of twinges close in on the undersides of his thighs before he finally finishes. it builds up gradually before you find him pouring into your mouth with a nice amount of parching hot cum. it’s hot, a good mass of satiny ropes coat the flat middle part of your tongue and you moan. “f-fuuuck,” he heaves through heavy lungs, it’s still trickling, you savor the taste. it’s bitterly sweet. he pulls out of your mouth before letting off a tremulous sigh. “good girl, f-fuck.”

“aw. don’t hog her, give me attention too,” geto sneers, softly grabbing you by the neck, making you face him. with his right hand, he squeezes your lips together with a rigid grip. “ah, don’t swallow yet. c’mere.”

with half-lidded eyes, you do—leaning into his touch before geto plants his warm lips onto yours. you’re caught by surprise for the umpteenth time today, prying your mouth open for him and he lolls his tongue down your throat. you let off a whine, feeling his gloved hands rub against every inch of your body. immediately, he tastes the candied flavor of nanami’s cum and it makes him groan. he didn’t even bat an eye—you return the kiss, feeling geto’s hand slither further down towards your ass. he caresses it, giving it a mean spank to make you moan out in ecstasy.

after a while, he pulls away, humming at nanami. “ken ken, don’t be so shy. you want a taste too?”

“yeah,” he mutters, needy eyes staring at your lips that were lubricated with your own sheeny spit. “can i?”

you nod, and he’s so gentle with you. a hand nimbly wraps around your throat before he brings you into a deeper kiss. geto’s still for his hands on you, strumming his fingers near your pulled to the side panties. you let off a soft pant, feeling the spiral of nanami’s tongue go against yours. he tastes sweet — savory even, his flavor was purely mouthwatering. a thumb drags down the passageway of your throat before he pulls away. it’s slow, a polished concoction of saliva departs from each mouth and you whimper. you were throbbing, desperate for more and they both knew that. if this— whatever this was was some sort of movie, you never wanted it to end. you never wanted the credits to roll because you felt like you were floating on cloud nine.

with the two of them, you were stretched in every way possible. if you could compare who was bigger, actually you couldn’t. throughout multiple positions, you felt as if you were gonna snap in half. they had you so stupid. pink tongue rolled out, full lungs of oxygen departing out such hot breaths of air, you were the definition of stupid.

cockdrunk at its finest. each orgasm that got ruthlessly snatched out of you had your head spinning, heart racing entirely.

you felt like something was creeping up behind your shoulder, chills. whenever you’d coax out yet another teeth-shattering orgasm, all you felt was stone cold chills. time after time, it felt like pure bliss—you thought you were in a whole new world, barely even able to move your thighs an inch. being sandwiched between the two of them, perhaps you were a little greedy but you just couldn’t get enough. geto’s degrading you whilst nanami’s whispering sweet pleasures into your ear, you’ve never felt more soaked.

you didn’t wanna stop—

currently, you’re straddling nanami. he’s got two rough hands gripping your waist, intaking every inch of your pretty physique. his stare sends you butterflies, his shaft was underneath you and only then pulls out. with a cute, “phew,” he swipes a sheet of sweat that expands across his forehead. you rode him so good that he couldn’t even figure out what to say. he was so flustered, tips of his ears a reddish hot before he watches geto creep behind you. “think she wants more, suguru.”

“bet she does,” he whispers, bringing a few sweet kisses near the inner corners of your neck.

you’re promptly sat up straight. the brief sounds of booming speakers roar from downstairs as you wrap your arms around nanami. geto licks near your collarbone before purring seductively. “say, doll. how ‘bout you try to take us both? would ya like that?” and with a gloved hand he gives your ass a squeeze. “wanna be the final girl ‘n prove your worth? our final girl?”

without an inkling of hesitation—you nod, mewling out a sweet, “yes, yes jus’ hurry up, sugu. ‘m still c…close.”

“so wet, so impatient,” he whispers once more, and with two hands he makes you sit up from nanami. you gulp—swallowing whatever sanity you had left, preparing to be quite literally double stuffed with your roommates. you aren’t so sure why, but the fact that they both still had on their ghoulish costumes made you pulsate a bit more. geto’s helping you slide back down onto nanami’s length before slowly making his way into you also. “god, you’re so hot in here. gonna fuckin’ swallow me whole.”

you moan, everything goes so slow—your cunt was a ticking time bomb. you clamp down on each before slumping into nanami’s chest. you’re met with kind eyes, he strokes your forehead before kissing the bridge of your nose, panting in a hushed voice. “eyes on me, princess. just relax.”

you wriggle a bit at the positioning—being on nanami’s lap, geto directly behind you, you’re quite literally being filled in every orifice by thick inches of cock. nanami’s words were soothing, filling up your tummy with a pool of fluttering butterflies. you keep your eyes on him, clenching down on geto a bit before you hear him hiss in response. “ugh. doll open up for me a little m-more, yeah.”

his voice was deepened heavily—you let off a cute gasp once they’re both finally in and a few shaky breaths exit past your lips. “hold my hand, i got you,” nanami coos, and that’s when geto starts to rock. he had more control between the two of you, the grip on your hips was firm and you let off a sweet babble. each individual entrance was stuffed, you swallow the invisible lump in your throat as you start to feel the sweltering friction of your thighs slap against nanami. “you’re so pretty like this,” and he kisses the temple of your cheek.

every kiss presented from nanami makes your heart race—being sandwiched between nanami and geto, you really did feel like the main character.

your lip tremors, grinding back and forth between each of them, you feel geto wrap his thick fingers around your neck.

whilst you’re still straddling nanami—you moan again and again, feeling a free hand of geto’s spank your ass. the stretch that you continuously felt had your mouth watering. you heard the harmonic pap pap pap’s until it rang throughout your ears. “fuck, ya like being stuffed don’t you, pretty girl? feel full enough?” geto rasps, pressing his body right up against you. you felt his hot temperature go against your skin. making you feel every amount of his heat. your brain’s swelling up with fog. giving him an inert nod, you hear him click his tongue. “didn’t say to nod your head, doll. i wanna hear that sweet voice.”

whenever geto lowers his voice a bit, you feel the abrupt tension arise between your legs. leaning against nanami, you whine out a, “hngh y-yesss, ‘m so full, sugu. want more, stuff me more.”

“let me stuff your mouth too then.”

and before you could come up with a reply, geto removes his glove—shoving your mouth with two fat digits. he grunts, watching as you’re so compliant with your throat being filled with his fingers. nanami stares at the entire scene in front of him, his dick idly twitching inside of you. your tongue runs down his fingers before your own spit starts to seep down the corners of your lips. it was messy—you were messy. your hips jitter and judder and you knew with having both holes stuffed you weren’t gonna last that much longer. it was probably the dozenth orgasm your pussy’s been introduced with and you could feel the creeping pleasure brew up inside your abdomen.

“suguru, ‘m gonna cum.” nanami groans, bringing his own hands to wrap around your waist. you lessen your tense from his touch before gagging a bit from the prodding of geto’s fingers way back into your throat. “she’s s-squeezing me so good.”

geto snickers, making eye contact with nanami. “are you? ‘ken, you’re more whinier than usual today.”

“shut up.” he grumbles, slapping a hand over his face in embarrassment — nanami wasn’t so known to be all flustered and abashed, but whenever he was, it was so cute.

you’ve still got a mouthful of geto’s fingers before he pulls them out only to shove them into his own mouth. he hums, sharp hips snapping into you repeatedly as his other free hand tightens its secured grasp around your hip. “mhm,” he groans, feeling himself reaching his peak also. “you taste like a final girl. so sweet like candy.”

with the piston of geto’s vigorous hips, you’re so loose that you feel the fleeting sensation of your cunt gaping.

its cavernous, you jerk forward against nanami before seconds later — geto groans, abruptly finishing two seconds early. even his moans were pretty, he tugs his fingers out of your mouth to wrap them around your neck. strands of black hair glue to his forehead and he puffs out a single breath. licking a stripe near your neck, he feels thick volumes of his cum ooze into your hole. it’s so sticky, you bring your hips to a slowing halt before nanami shoots inside you too.

“f-fuck, sugu,” nanami grunts, feeling his thighs stick underneath you. he was panting heavily, each breath that ran from his lips sounding more and more wearied. “damn, so m-much.”

everything spurts into you at once. they mirror each other inside of you perfectly. callused stubby fingertips of geto’s squeeze your neck softly, watching as you’re just being filled with bulky strings of cum, it floods your cunt until it drizzles further into your womb. you’re drooling, it feels so hot, sweltering hot. it sticks against your entrance before your arms wrap around nanami. “so f-full,” you whimper, and he returns the gesture by brushing his thumb against your waist. droopy eyes hang low before nanami pulls you into another deep kiss. you decided—this was far better than some dumb party. the cottony fabric of the ghostface robe pricks against your skin as you lean into his heinous touch.

you shift your weight against nanami’s lap, feeling geto pull out before he leans down between your legs. “spread your legs,” he mutters, and in the midst of your tongue roaming down nanami’s throat, you part your thighs—gasping once you feel geto’s own tongue lap against the freshly created mess. he makes little tiny licks, tasting the ropes of crisp cum that’s sloppily easing out of every entrance—you pulsate before he chortles, warm breath ventilating against your sobbing pussy. “so messy. don’t want any spillin’ out. gotta push it back in.”

you’re moaning, after a while you break away from nanami’s lips before he strokes your cheek lovingly, a cute drowsy look before he huffs, “did you hear me, pretty?” and he gently pokes your cheek. “you always do this..”

confusion hits you before your eyes suddenly open—you jolt up, both of your roommates beside you, gawking at you with a look of deadpan. you’re leaning against geto, the third movie of scream playing in the background—it was near the ending where the killer was being revealed. you sit up, staring down at your legs and you were fully clothed—there was no geto eating between your legs, no being stuffed with nanami, nothing.

“hellooo, earth to roomie,” geto waves his hand in your face, you stare at him before furrowing your brows. “you okay? you fell asleep on me again. what’s got ya so spooked? looks like ya seen a ghost.”

so it was a dream?

a mere glimpse of your lewd imagination—?

you have a sudden sheepish look, running your fingers near the nape of your neck. “huh. oh, i’m fine. i thought the movie would be over by now.”

nanami rubs your back. “we still have like twenty minutes left,” and then he looks at you with a concerned look. so gentle—so tender. “are you sure you’re okay? we can watch a rom-com if you want.”

“i’m okay,” you insist, slumping your head back against geto.

that was weird, out of all the dreams you’ve had throughout your life—none of them ever felt as surreal as that one. for some reason, you were still aroused though. you were a bit out of breath and felt chills run all over your body.

abruptly, your phone rings,

“sugu, can you pass me my phone?” you sigh, trying to relax. you were pretty bummed you weren’t at that party getting stuffed with your two roommates but instead—in your generic dorm watching a scary movie.

he hands you the phone, grabbing the remote to turn it down a few notches.

once you take it, succinctly, your eyes scan across the screen—it reads that it’s from an unknown number. not really thinking much, you decide to answer, swiping the green button to answer. “um, hello?”

“hello.”

“hi,” you rub your eyes. “can i help y-”

“what’s your favorite scary movie?”

rolling your eyes, you peer at your two roommates beside you, nudging them and peeling the phone away from your ear for a moment. “very funny, suguru.”

geto gives you a look of confusion and nanami mimics the same. he shrugs, averting his eyes back toward the movie. “very funny what.”

and suddenly you’re laid back, an unbelieving expression was expressed on your face as you were left with a weird feeling. if it wasn’t them then who—

that same chill eerily creeps up your spine before you put the phone back near your ear. it’s that same low voice you heard from before, each word it speaks pitches deeper before you grow quiet at its final haunting response,

“oh baby, i’m not suguru or nanami..”

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incorrect-skylanders-quotes · 7 months

Text

Master Eon: (frantically flipping through books in the Academy library) Come on... It wasn't this hard when I was invisible last week... Where's the Core-

Master Eon: (noticing Wind-Up and Countdown, quickly hiding the book) *cough* Greetings Skylanders, isn't it great being so noble and just?

Wind-Up: Uh, sure Master Eon. You okay?

Master Eon: Yep, just a regular day doing my usual heroic nonsense. Nothing unusual here!

Countdown: Alright, if ya say so... Let us know if ya need anything, I guess.

(Countdown and Wind-Up walk away)

Wind-Up: Well, that was weird.

Countdown: You're telling me...

Master Eon: (wipes forehead) That was a close one.

Master Eon: (flipping through books again) Alright, there's gotta be a map...no...nO-

Master Eon: (tossing a book to the ground) Ah forget it! I can't find anything in this stupid library!

Master Eon: (spots Boom Bloom having a conversation with Tri-Tip and Chain Reaction)

Master Eon: Uhh, Ambush, come here and help me find something in this library.

Master Eon: Ambush? Ambush! AMBUSH GET OVER HERE BEFORE I RIP THOSE WORTHLESS FLOWERS OFF YOUR HEA-

Ambush: Alright, alright, I'm here, for Ancients sake! No need for hostilities, what is it you need Master Eon?

Master Eon: Wait... I didn't call Ambush?

Ambush: ...You did? There was no mistaking who you were calling, and here I am.

Master Eon: Hang on, you're Ambush? Then whose that?!

(Master Eon points to Boom Bloom)

Ambush: ...That's Boom Bloom, sir.

Master Eon: Let me see if I got this right, You two are both Life Skylanders, you're a knight, she's a ninja, but you're Ambush, and she's not??

Ambush: Wha- Are you jesting, Master Eon?! My fighting style focuses on suprise attacks and quick strikes, I ambush my enemies, that's my name!

Ambush: (storming off) I'm not even the same type of plant as her...

Aurora: Uncle, you of all people should know how sensitive the Skylanders get when you mix up their names...

Master Eon: How is this my fault?! Should we just rename Trolls and Chompies to "stupid green thing" and "bitey green thing"?! Would that make everyone happy??!!

Aurora: (confused) Why would we-

Master Eon: Ah, to Darkness with this!!

(Master Eon suddenly explodes himself)

Aurora:

(meanwhile)

Kaos: (stopping his illusion spell) I don't know whose been naming these Skylosers, but they're a bunch of thumb-sucking morons!

Kaos: (releasing Eon from his restraints) You're free to go, Eon. You've got enough on your plate without me interfering. I'm surprised none of them have gotten you killed yet!

Master Eon: Thank you, Kaos. It's nice to know that someone finally understands the burden I bear. Same time next week?

Kaos: Wouldn't miss it!

#skylanders #incorrect quotes #incorrect skylanders quotes #source: the lazy eyebrow #Ambush #Aurora #Boom Bloom #Chain Reaction #Countdown #Kaos #Master Eon #Tri-Tip #Wind-Up #admin post

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imabeautifulbutterfly · 7 months

Text

Choice - Part 12

Summary: Din offers another perspective

A/N: Hello Lovelies,

So this is the final chapter. It might not be what some of you were hoping for, and it might be a little disappointing but I do hope you enjoyed the journey that started from an anon request.

This has been a lot of fun to write, so a special thank you to the anon who waited so patiently for their request to be fulfilled and for giving me such an awesome idea.

Love oo

Warning: Reflection, space, angst, fluff, decisions, decisions, decisions, I think that's it. If I miss any please let me know.

AO3 Link | OS & MS Master List | Main Master List

“I love you. I always have. Walking away from you was the stupidest mistake I’ve ever made. You were right, we can train the future Jedi together. We can teach them side-by-side, like you suggested all those years ago.”

“Are you asking me to leave with you?”

“If I did, would you say yes?”

You sat at the foot of the bed, your knees pressed against your chest as your arms wrapped around your legs.

The conversation you had with Luke replaying over and over in your head. Despite all he said, despite everything you wanted to hear and did, you couldn’t give him an answer at that moment. You needed time to think, time to figure out what you wanted. You told him as much, and asked him to leave, for now. He understood, he didn’t want to pressure you, didn’t want to make you feel it was an all or nothing deal. He even said, if you wanted to simply train with him, he’d understand. He’d give you the time you need and be back in a week or two, there was something he needed to take care of.

You stood on the fields of Nevarro for what felt like eons, trying to understand and comprehend what exactly happened. You wondered if maybe you had dreamed the entire conversation.

However, when you came back Din tried to get you to talk, asking you what Luke wanted; but that’s when everything became real, having Din ask you made everything real, and you just weren’t ready to face it. Not yet.

Din held back from asking further, yet it had already been six days since Luke left, and the silence was killing him. Din had done everything possible to keep his mind busy. He’d done a few jobs for Garga , he focused on training Grogu, he even picked up a bounty job which lasted him all of three hours. He’d cleaned every nook and cranny of his home, gardened, he had literally run out of jobs, and all that was left was for him to sit and stare at your bedroom door, while his knee bounced up and down as a hundred different scenarios ran through his head as to what exactly Luke wanted. Six days and his patience had run out, he’d given you your space, but something told him time wasn’t on his side. He headed to your bedroom.

He stood in front of you door for a minute, calming down his racing heart. He needed to be okay with whatever you told him, he took in one more deep breath before he knocked and entered your room.

However, he was a little startled to see you sitting on the floor, you looked more like a lost child, afraid of the future and what was going to happen, than the warrior he’d known you to be.

It broke his heart to see you so unsure.

He took a seat beside you on the floor, watching Grogu play in the corner with his silver ball from the Razor Crest. It seemed Grogu hadn’t wanted to be away from you either.

He adjusted himself, letting his arm brush up against yours, leaning closer to you. He’d gotten into the habit of not wearing all his armour in the house, and he had to say he enjoyed it. He was able to feel the warmth from your body seep into his side whenever he was near you, just that small sensation always put a smile on his face.

Silence settled between the two of you, he let out a deep sigh, all the stress and anxiety eased out of him in that moment.

“Cyar’ika, I don’t know what happened with Luke or what he said, but whatever did happen or didn’t, you know you can always talk to me.”

You rested your head on his shoulder, finding the spot that had become yours since you both started working together, “I know, and I want to talk about, it’s just … I’m just so confused” you rubbed your eyes, hoping it would give you some clarity, only to find you’d rubbed them too hard and now couldn’t see anything except white dots.

“About?”

You stifled the laughter that was your life and focused on the conversation with Din, “What I want,”

Din nodded as he rested his helmet against your head, he cleared his throat, as he felt his nervousness rise, “Can I tell you what I want? Maybe it’ll help you to get a sense, see if you want something similar.”

You chuckled, as you intertwined your fingers together with his, “Sure, it’s probably something like a room full of weapons. A new Razor Crest.”

“I already have a room full of weapons, and I’m always keeping an eye out for a new Razor Crest” he chuckled as he shifted a little, sitting closer to you, there was barely any space in between your bodies.

He cleared his throat, this was his chance to finally open up his heart, to tell you everything he ever wanted.

“I want … I want for us to stay on Nevarro, not because it was my home for years, but because staying here means I get to wake up every day surrounded by family. To see Grogu grow to become a full fledge Mandalorian. I want to …” he shifted causing you to lift your head to look at him, he turned in his seat to look at you, his hand resting gently on your jawline as he looked into your eyes, “I want to wake up beside you everyday in our bed together.” His hand moved a little stroking your cheek, “I want to become one with you, in every sense of the word.” He cupped your cheek, shifting closer to you, “To be by your side till the last day I draw breath. I want us to have more foundlings, to fill this house with so much love, joy, and laughter we’d never want to go anywhere else.”

He pressed his helmeted forehead towards yours, taking in a deep breath, “Anyway, that’s what I want. That’s what I’ve wanted for a while.”

You both stayed still with your foreheads pressed against each other as silence filled between you.

“I hope it helped.” He pulled back, his thumb brushing against your cheek, he stood from his spot, heading to the door, “Cyar’ika, just know whatever you decide, whatever you want, I’ll support you. I always have.”

You were shocked, you had no idea … oh who were you kidding, you had hoped he felt the same way about you, a warm feeling settled in your chest as you watched him walk away.

Now that he was gone, there was another sensation filling your heart and mind, you turned to look at Grogu, who came and sat by your side, you tilted your head at him.

“Well Grogu, what do I do now? What do I do when my heart pulls me in two directions? What should I do, ad’ika?” You trailed your finger over his ear.

AO3 Link | OS & MS Master List | Main Master List

@liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24 @spicymcnuggies @lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @sprout-fics @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @sarcasmismyonlydefense24 @tortor-mcgee @swissy23 @hearts4ashy

#luke skywalker #din x reader #luke skywalker x reader #star wars #luke skywalker x you #din dijarin x reader #darth vader #din djarin fanfic #din djarin fanfiction #luke skywalker fanfiction #Luke skywalker fanfic #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #anon request #grogu #mando x you #mando x reader #mando fanfiction

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crying-fantasies · 3 months

Text

Post Unicron war

Government of Cybertron under the elected leader of Cybertron, Windblade of Caminus, successor of Optimus Prime and former leader of Cybertron Starscream.

Rodimus Prime is the actual Prime in function but relinquished his right as governor to the current leader of Cybertron.

Cybertron council meeting 46143th

Subject: Hybrid sparks

"First of all we wish everyone remembers", representative of Divisiun, council member Vanquish takes the word before everyone else, consecutively representative of Divisiun, council member Fireshot, ends the sentence, "that we are talking of innocent, pure, new sparks".

Representative of Velocitron, council member Knockout, answers with a laugh, representative of Arduria, council member Roc, implies: "that's rich coming from you, your own colony's organic habitants are in the verge of extinction by your own wrongdoings", representative of Arduria, council member Amarite, tries to stop him in vain, "if one colony shouldn't have a say in this meeting is Divisiun, if Optimus Prime was here-".

"Please, let's not start an unnecessary discussion", Representative of Caminus, leader of Cybertron, council head Windblade, takes the lead, "let's not permit bad choices of the past take an important weight in our actual decisions".

"What are we supposed to do then?", Representative of Velocitron, council member Moonracer, takes the word with datapads on her servos, "I must say that I'm against any vivisection procedure or invasive recollection of data, I've seen what cybertronians of previous regiments did before, their own people, cut to pieces".

Representative of Earth, council member Hector Palma, exclaims: "We're not killing babies! Cybertronians or not, organics or not! That's out of the question!"

Representative of Elonia, spaceknight of the Solstar order, council member Rom, comments: "What's wrong with you cybertronians".

Representative of Cybertron, council member Bumblebee, intercepted, "I mean, those were the functionalist followers, we don't have anything to do with that, we were against it, we still are!"

Representative of Carcer, council member Elita One, interferes, "who knows what their organic side can do, what if they contract organic diseases and infect us too?"

"Their organic part may be troublesome at some point if we leave it as it is, we should've stopped it since the first one, now we have 3 and counting", CM Knockout says, as a matter of fact, "if we could purge it from their system with treatment for atrophosia-".

CM Moonracer stops him from finishing, "Knockout!"

"We won't allow such hard and unsafe medicine get used on new forged sparklings!", Representative of Eukaris, council member Airazor, takes word for both parts of Eukaris since council member Tigatron is on temporary leave due to their own recent forged sparkling.

Apparently it doesn't matter, "I just said what everyone was thinking".

"Enough!", CH Windblade takes the lead, again, "indeed, we must answer for the decision of leaving the first one care to an organic creator, we should've investigated more and put a rest of the matter before other cybertronian and human couples did the same", there is silence before the next argument, "and while you are against their human scanned components I must give you all the reminder that Navitas is improving the best he has been in centuries since his human caretaker took responsibility for his neural treatment".

A difficult topic, one that gives silence while everyone remembers the titan saying his first words since eons, being the name of the human, a hard and low reality for all Velocitron.

Representatives of Velocitron and Carcel request the end of the meeting.

Cybertron council meeting 46273th

Subject: Increase of the variant new sparks

"Now there are 9", representative of the new populated colony of Tsiehshi, council member Cliffjumper, started, "and one of the bitties is from a good friend of mine, not exactly saying I'm approving but at least not in the mood to hear someone say a single bad word or any organic-phobic comments".

"Thank you for your personal experience and insight, Cliffjumper", CH Windblade states, knowing full well that he has a datapad blowing with pictures of a little blueish green sparkling with big, shiny optics, it keeps beeping with new messages and possible pictures during the whole meeting.

Substitute representative of the new populated colony of Gorlam Prime, Lieutenant of the special team of NEST, council member Ironhide, added: "you also got Hound's pictures? Gotta say, young lad Aqua it's a delight for the spark".

"Focus, everyone", representative of the new populated colony of Prion, last survivor of the original population, council member Nickel takes the lead, "from what I got from the scientists aboard the Lost Light the sparkling is growing slow, just like everything else about him, it seems like his frame is the one of any other speedster sparkling so far, just the color of the optics it's more related to his organic creator, and in the recent outbreaks of influenza virus aboard the Lost Light the sparkling hasn't showed any discomfort so far-"

"I mean", CM Elita One speaks out of turn, "you're bound to be more than happy to see this as positive as anything, your former team is currently part of the Lost Light and they have that strange and repugnant project of a human creature with a decepticon spark-".

"You say a word more of her and I'll dismantle you whole! You glitch-!"

Council members and council head request to end the meeting due to the physical transgression between CM Nickel and CM Elita One.

Wrenches are now forbidden inside the council room.

Cybertron council meeting 46321th

Subject: Orion Pax

"We're seeing one another more times than not these recent days", notes CM Hector Palma, most of the members of the council looking at CM Ironhide's datapad with more images of a hybrid sparkling whose sire, former autobot soldier, keeps bringing more and more data, unrequited photos of the sparkling with strange human clothes.

CM Knockout answers while taking distance from CM Palma, "well, there are 15 already, doesn't matter for some even when it was publicly said that no one knows what could come from them".

"Scanners so far show that they can produce an oral solvent similar to organic fluids and they can cry like humans do", CM Nickel gives the recollected information of the last year's of development.

"Delightful".

"Well, so the meeting of today is about...", CM Rom asks while sending his daughter and wife a note that he'll get back home soon.

"Orion Pax requested permission for his human partner to take a spark from the hotspot of Earth"

All the council stayed quiet for a good while, looking between themselves as if what CH Windblade said was hard to believe, CM Rom stopped his message.

"Trypticon already agreed"

"Orion, as in Optimus-"

"He doesn't go by that name anymore"

"Right, he doesn't remember-"

"That's a big deal, I mean he might be the best for this-"

"He is a soldier with energon on his hands-"

"Just like any of the ones here"

"I approve it", CM Palma stops the discussion, giving his affirmative vote above the others, "I didn't meet Optimus Prime before the whole Unicron disaster or whatever that happened 200 years or something ago but even I know what his previous persona meant for Earth and what he can add now"

"Which is-"

"Give him a kid, and then give his kid the tittle of Prime too, so humanity can have a better ground on this galactic situation"

"Just to give the title of Prime around, do you know how much power-"

"What power, there is no reliquary left of the former Primes to even bestow to a new one"

"Hey", CM Palma, now 187 earth years old, stops the confrontation, "just like a title, like captain or lieutenant, you choose, because in all these years our people need a Prime, not exactly our friend Rodimus who is hardly in the same solar system, and you can't say otherwise", note: CM Palma looks exhausted and is assisted by CM Tigatron to stand from his seat, "now, 'Hide, can you show me some photos of that cute little fellow? I have some of my own grandkids right here".

Council members request to end the meeting, the permission ends with full affirmative votes from Eukaris, Divisiun, Elonia, Gorlam Prime, Arduria and Earth, with partial affirmation from Cybertron and Velocitron.

Cybertron council meeting 48367

Subject: Lost Light dead signal

"Hector, please, calm down-"

"How can I CALM DOWN?!", CM Palma interrupted the protocols of the council, "What happened?! We only got a distress signal coming from the Lost Light and next thing they are dead?!"

"The Lost Light has recently been in orbit of Divisiun for a few cycles", CM Fireshot started, CM Vanquish ends the sentence, "of the survivors, all are cybertronians, the last humans that were online with vital support assistance... The last one offlined just the previous cycle due to critical internal damage, the remaining survivors need-"

CM Tigatron stops the conclusion, "we get how it goes", CM Palma leaves the meeting, "how is the council of external worlds going to respond to this? That sector was under their jurisdiction and they deemed it safe".

"This is where things get funny", CM Ironhide added, "They are askin' compensation from us and Earth, sayin' that the strange organic bodies are pollution and that's our fault that former cybertronian mercenaries even existed".

"Those glitches are responsible for the extermination of my people and the destruction of the titan's, Prion's, remains", CM Nickel added, "they only care for their own expansion, if Tarn was here-"

"Wow wow, we are now going way too south-"

"They'll demand something, mark my words, they'll demand some kind of compensation for the troubles and they're going to burn down what they can before they settle a new colony for their organic needs".

CM Bumblebee, who is the bridge with the COEW and Cybertron intercedes, "Let's not get too focused on that, it can be resolved with time, they are organic too, they wouldn't be as heartless as to reclaim something out of the ordinary, and we would get the bodies anyway".

Council members request the end of the meeting, CM Nickel puts a request to enforce the spacial protection of Cybertron and it's colonies.

The council of external worlds demands compensation due to contamination of organic waste from low and primitive species such as the ones originated in the cybertronian colony of Earth.

The compensation includes: 3 tons of Ore-13 from the cybertronian colony of Earth, main transgresor, a ton of Ore-8 from the cybertronian colony of Tsiehshi and a ton of Ore-1 from the cybertronian colony of LV-117 for investigation purposes.

Cybertron's answer: Fuck you.

The council of external worlds act upon the negative of Cybertron referring to the compensation.

The council of external worlds begins the occupation of Cybertron: unsuccessful.

Orion Pax takes the name of Optimus Prime once again to lead against the invasion in place of Rodimus Prime, who was a victim of the attack aboard the starship Lost Light, which has lost 40 percent of it's crew including their human liaison, Taylor Palma, and the whole human population and suffered a total estructural damage of 48 percent.

Cybertron council meeting 48374th

"First to of all, we all grief the loss of Hector, he was a great friend, and as hard as it is we must persevere with our duties and our work with Cybertron and all the colonies, I'm so sorry Tigatron, I know you two were amica", CH Windblade announced, CM Tigatron is consoled by his conjunx endurae, CM Airazor, before giving space for the new representative of Earth, council member Emily Witwicky that now performs after the former CM Hector Palma.

"Thank you, as you all know previous to his dead due to old age, mister Palma received information from the Lost Light, specifically from the head scientist Perceptor, who made the discovery of the oxígeno rich environment around the first one as it has been named the first hybrid sparkling, now labeling them as living terraformation organisms".

CM Ironhide questions: "Terraformation, as in earth?"

"Correct, not only oxygen but many others aspects too, such as variety for rich environments in carbon and hydrogen".

"This information must be only know to us for the time being, who knows what would happen if the council of external worlds got a word of it", CM Tigatron adds.

"Just for your information", CM Amarite gets out a datapad with a foreign emblem on it, "they already know as it seem", next, all members receive notifications on their own datapads.

"They better not say anything or claim something after the fiasco aboard the Lost Light"

Representatives of Earth and Cybertron request the end of the meeting.

CM Witwicky gets her first warning regarding vocabulary.

#reader insert #x reader #tf mtmte #transformers #transformers x reader #angst #transformers idw #transformers x human reader #tf windblade #tf knockout #tf moonracer

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thefourdiamonds-fantrolls · 2 months

Note

Zavlan, what kind of trolls are you interested in, either for friends or quads or just the type of people you like to surround yourself with?

§ I ₫i₫n't really think about it until re¢ently. My ₥oirails use₫ to be the ₥ain trolls I intera¢te₫ with... § ฿ut sin¢e you aske₫ I ¢an think up so₥ething. ₴ure. § I enjoy the ¢o₥pany of level hea₫e₫ trolls... an₫ Fifira. § As long as there is at least so₥e ₥utual interests or ₥otives... I ¢an get along with pretty ₥u¢h anyone. § For qua₫rants spe¢ifi¢ally... h₥. § ₴o₥eone that I ¢oul₫... i₥prove as a troll aroun₫. ₮o learn so₥ething fro₥ the₥... an₫ ¢are for ea¢h-other. § £ooks are also i₥portant to ₥e, I ₫o like so₥eone a bit ₥ore shapely. § ₡an't say ₥u¢h about height ¢onsi₫ering just how short the girl I went out with a few nights ago is.

I didn't really think about it until recently. My moirails used to be the main trolls I interacted with… But since you asked I can think up something. Sure. I enjoy the company of level headed trolls… and Fifira. As long as there is at least some mutual interests or motives… I can get along with pretty much anyone. For quadrants specifically… hm. Someone that I could… improve as a troll around. To learn something from them… and care for each-other. Looks are also important to me, I do like someone a bit more shapely. Can't say much about height considering just how short the girl I went out with a few nights ago is.

#zavlan answers

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rookmeo · 1 year

Text

◇ | Wanderer neopronouns for anon!

• eon/eons/eonself

This morning, Eon went to the park. I went with Eons. And Eon brought Eons frisbee. At least I think it was Eons. By the end of the day, Eon started throwing the frisbee to Eonself.

• drift/drifter/drifters/drifterself

This morning, Drift went to the park. I went with Drifter. And Drift brought Drifters frisbee. At least I think it was Drifters. By the end of the day, Drift started throwing the frisbee to Drifterself.

• strange/stranger/strangers/strangerself

This morning, Strange went to the park. I went with Stranger. And Strange brought Strangers frisbee. At least I think it was Strangers. By the end of the day, Strange started throwing the frisbee to Strangerself.

• hea/heart/hearts/heartself

This morning, Hea went to the park. I went with Heart. And Hea brought Hearts frisbee. At least I think it was Hearts. By the end of the day, Hea started throwing the frisbee to Heartself.

• mech/mechanic/mechanics/mechanicself

This morning, Mech went to the park. I went with Mechanic. And Mech brought Mechanics frisbee. At least I think it was Mechanics. By the end of the day, Mech started throwing the frisbee to Mechanicself.

#⚘ | request complete #genshin impact #genshin impact wanderer #genshin impact scaramouche #scaramouche #scaramouche neopronouns #neopronouns #wanderer neopronouns #genshin wanderer neopronouns

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casspurrjoybell-22 · 2 months

Text

Dream Eater - Chapter 10 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

My shadowy vision indicates he bows in my direction and I do the same towards him.

"Likewise, General Oran," I say, playing along for Damien's sake.

"If you'll excuse me," Oran says. "I have a speech to give."

He leaves us and the interminable mingling continues but from that point on, I notice that Damien's hand never quite leaves my arm.

The party drags on for another eon or so but like all things must, it eventually comes to an end. In our chambers, Damien helps me to bathe and change.

I've gotten pretty good at navigating familiar spaces without sight but I'm tired enough not to mind his hovering.

As he guides me to the bed and pulls the blankets back for me, I risk the proposition that's been on my mind all evening.

"Damien... I need a dream," I say, catching his hand. "Will you stay?"

I see his shape looming over me, like some dark angel.

"Are you sure? I thought my dreams were too much."

They are but they're also familiar and available.

Which, I realize, are two reasons that underlie a lot of poor choices but I make this one anyway.

"I'm sure," I say, going for levity but sounding a little desperate. "And hey, you don't even have to pay me."

He settles beside me on the bed and takes my hand.

"My dreams haven't been as bad since my memory returned," he says. "I think you've seen the worst already."

"Great. Maybe you'll dream about something mundane, like snakes or falling."

I'm not counting on it but hope springs eternal.

********

This time, the dream is from Damien's perspective.

He/I stand on a ledge over a precipice.

The sky roils with orange clouds and the landscape looks like a mountainous region of Mars.

I get the sense this is one of the lower realms.

Beside me stands a man I love and who I know I'm going to lose.

He's tall and fair and beautiful.

He looks like he's lit from within by his own star and the light of it shines from his eyes with gentle warmth.

He's dressed for battle but carries no weapon.

"Sakariel, is there nothing I can do to dissuade you? Nothing I can say to make you change your mind?" I ask.

I feel like I'd let worlds burn if it meant I could protect him.

He shakes his head and gives me a sad smile.

"No, 'Talian. The time is now. All things have their season and mine nears an end. I will make this attempt and whether it succeeds or fails, it shall be my last."

His words weigh on my heart like stones.

"I wish we had more time," I say, feeling it slip through my grasp even as I speak.

He takes my hand.

"As do I," he sighs. "'Talian, whatever happens, know that if my life were my own to give, it would belong to you."

He steps back and I see that he holds a silver horn in his hand.

Raising it to his lips, he sounds a long clear note and I feel it pierce me like a spear.

The end has begun.

The dream shifts and I stand on the top of a high tower.

The sound of battle rises from below.

Fear catches at my heart and I draw the long blade I wear at my hip, ready to fight.

Sakariel is at my back, grief in the lines of his face and the slope of his shoulders.

Oran is there as well.

"They've breached the lower levels," he tell us. "Sakariel... Azael's assassins did not gain entry without aid from within. We've been betrayed."

He slumps against the wall.

"Then it is over."

"You must escape," Oran says urgently. "Dantalian, take him and go. I will hold them off."

"I am no coward, Oran," Sakariel says. "I will not flee and leave my people to suffer in my stead."

"Damn it, Sakariel. If you won't think of yourself, then think of me," I shout. "I won't leave without you. Either we go together or we die together here."

I see his hesitation and for a moment I'm not sure which he'll choose.

Finally he nods and reaches for my hand.

There's nothing like hope in his eyes but there is love.

"Very well, 'Talian. Whatever of my life is left, it's all yours."

Oran yells at us to go.

I hold Sakariel in my arms and heart shivering with hope and fear, let the fire of the Fallen take us away.

********

I wake up with a racing heart but Damien was right.

Compared to his other dreams, that one wasn't so bad.

I feel stressed out and depressed but my energy is restored.

I blink a few times but my sight is no better than it was.

Damien's hand is still in mine and he's still asleep.

Sitting up, I consider his shadowy outline with a frown.

The stress and sorrow are already fading but another feeling remains strong.

I've always been pretty good at separating the emotions in people's dreams from my own but it's hard to experience a love like the one he had for Sakariel and not feel at least a little affection for the guy.

On impulse, I reach over and lay my hand on his chest above his heart, feeling the steady beat of it beneath my palm.

I don't remember seeing this in the dreams but I'm suddenly certain that it's something Sakariel used to do.

The feeling unnerves me and he chooses that moment to wake up. I snatch my hand back.

"Alex?" he asks, sitting up. "Is everything okay?"

The images from the dream flash through my mind and that weirdly persistent feeling pulses a little stronger.

"Yeah," I say and turn away to get up. "Everything's fine."

I meet a bunch of people over the next several days, most of whose names I fail to remember.

Apparently, they're what's left of Sakariel's closest allies in this realm.

Maybe it's the fact I know it was an ally of some sort that betrayed him but I don't like any of them very much.

The feeling seems mutual.

I catch more than a few whispered arguments about 'unclean souls' and 'demonic pollution' and by lunchtime on the third day, I've had enough.

"Damien, why are you making me meet these people?" I ask. "They clearly don't want to meet me."

"They do," Damien assures me. "Heavenly Keys are rare and usually aeons pass between one occurrence and the next. To have found even a piece of one gives them hope."

"Well, don't let them get their hopes up too much, because I'm no hero or leader or whatever-the-fuck your dead angel was. I'm demon trash and as soon as I get the opportunity, I'm out of here."

He doesn't say anything for a moment.

When he goes on, it's with the patient air of a parent dealing with a cranky child.

"We need their protection, Alex. We might have asylum here for now but things change. The knowledge that you carry part of a Key will incline them to our favor."

"So you're using me?" I ask and contemplate exactly how angry I should feel.

He sighs.

"Let's go out. I know your vision hasn't completely returned but the fresh air will do us both good."

I consider being difficult for the hell of it but then decide that a walk actually sounds nice.

We wander the city streets and while I can't see clearly, my vision has improved enough that the world looks kind of like an Impressionist painting.

I can see colors, shapes, shades of dark and light.

The sounds and smells are interesting in their own right and I make Damien stop and describe stuff to me almost constantly.

I gather that the city is a strange mix of ancient and modern.

There are something like electric lights but everyone goes about either on foot or by the boats in the canals.

The economy is based on a form of credit calculated according to a person's station and the shops range from street vendors to what amount to high-end boutiques.

Damien buys me some sort of pastry with the credit Allannan gave him and I nibble at it as we walk back across one of the great bridges spanning a wide canal.

We're about halfway across when Damien stops short.

"What is it?" I ask.

"I thought I saw... someone I know," he says, sounding odd.

"Alex, wait here. I'll be back in a minute."

"Hey. Don't just..." but he's already gone... "Leave me here," I finish with a sigh.

The bridge has a low stone railing along its edge and I sit on it while I wait, wondering if I could find my way back on my own if Damien forgets me here.

I watch the indistinct shapes of people passing back and forth and listen to the persistent background noises of the city's life.

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bn-brightflower · 8 months

Text

Land of the Beautiful Dead

By: R. Lee Smith

My Rating: 5/5

Spiciness: 🌶️🌶️🌶️/5

Kindle: Yes

Kindle Unlimited: Yes

Paperback: Yes

Amazon Link

Trigger Warnings: Gore, Torture (of adults and children), Vomit, Sexual Coercion, Intimate/Domestic Violence, Suicide/Attempted Suicide, Self-Mutilation, Other Woman, Cannibalism (of the zombie variety)

Who I'd Recommend it For: Fans of dark romance - it is dark, very, very dark, just sitting on the edge of pitch black. Fans of a true anti-hero and morally grey characters, where everyone both is and is not the villain. If you need a soft romance and characters that lean toward comforting one another, this is NOT the book for you. Neither of the lead characters are stunningly attractive; the male lead is grotesque, actually, with exposed bone and tendon, and the female lead is never described as anything more than plain. The book has spice - not a ton of it - but the spice is, at times, very uncomfortable. If you want sexy sexy smut, this is definitely NOT the book for you. Fans of a HEA that is hard to earn but well worth it.

Summary: In a Post-Apocalyptic world, Lan has come to the land of the beautiful dead for one reason and one reason alone; to ask Lord Azrael, God of Death, to end the eaters, the horrific things that rise up and attack the living when people die. She expects to have a martyrs death, but Azrael offers her a deal; he will not end the eaters, but he will allow her to continue to ask in exchange for warming his bed.

That's it, and I genuinely didn't expect it to be the best book I've read in several years, but it absolutely was.

-- SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT --

I genuinely cannot stop thinking about this book, and it's given me the book hangover from Hell because I know I will never find something quite like it again.

Azrael is a stunningly compelling character, an immortal being that's been chased, attacked and betrayed by humans since the beginning of time. He doesn't seem to know what exactly he is (my best guess would be he's Azrael, I know I'm a genius), but he knows that he's not human and he doesn't fit in among them no matter how hard he tries to co-exist peacefully. He was born into violence and the violence follows him. He is hard and even downright cruel, but he's also incredibly lonely and has been chasing a way to ease that loneliness for eons. While everything and everyone around him will die and leave him, he raises the dead to be his companions. The problem is that the dead he's raised have been with purpose; he is Lord over them and they are all, to some extent, an extension of himself.

Azrael is aware that he's fearsome, and also grotesque, and so he makes deals with those few living people that do come to him to beg for relief from the eaters he's risen as protection for himself and from a world ravaged by the atomic bomb that humans dropped on him; converse with him, tolerate his bed, and he will provide them with everything they could possibly want or need.

All of this goes about as well as it could be expected to, until Lan comes along. Lan, who already believed she was on a suicide mission and is undetered by threats of death. Lan who is unafraid to treat him like any other man. Lan, who slaps him, and also kisses him of her own volition.

Lan is a compelling character in her own right. She isn't there to do harm, she's only there to beg him not to do harm to the living. Even through his cruelty, she finds compassion for him.

Azrael and Lan are not particularly nice to each other all the time and I see a lot of complaints about that, but the truth is it just works for them and anything else would have almost been insulting. Lan berates and insults, Azrael threatens with no follow through. If they were perfect for each other in the way typical romance novels work, they simply wouldn't be perfect for each other. Azrael is desperate for someone that doesn't worship him but comes to love him despite who and what he is. He finds that in Lan.

The entire book is written through Lan's perspective. Beyond the "romance" of it, there are many thoughtful things to think about through it. Questions like what makes a villain, or what makes something alive. Is it a heartbeat, will, thoughts, a soul? Are the dead any less than the living just because their heart isn't beating anymore? Is it villainous to protect oneself through violent means when the alternative is accepting violent treatment instead?

Imo, there are truly no villains in this story. Everyone is a bit villain, everyone is a bit victim, and that's the beauty of humanity.

There is a happy ending, but it's a very nontraditional happy ending. Which I think fits it perfectly. I could talk about this book literally all day, so I'm going to stop but I'll leave it with a quote.

#land of the beautiful dead #r lee smith #r. lee smith #book review #monster romance

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startreklogicoftheforce · 10 months

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Star Trek: Logic of the Force - Chapter Five

STARDATE 57898.9

Two months had elapsed since Sonal's arrival on the Enterprise. In this time, Picard had witnessed unparalleled efficiency and dedication to duty. Whenever a problem arose, Sonal promptly resolved it. And amidst interpersonal tensions among crew members, Sonal imparted ancient Surakian wisdom, fostering reconciliation. To all appearances, he was a Vulcan through and through.

However, beneath the surface, he was so much more. Beyond being a fusion of human and Vulcan heritage, a product of a half-human, half-Vulcan male and a full-blooded Romulan female, he harbored a profound power that had slumbered for eons. Immersed in deep meditation, he heard the voice of his newfound spiritual guide.

"PICARD'S HATRED OF THE BORG WILL TURN OUT TO BE USEFUL IN OUR PLANS TO BRING BACK THE GALACTIC EMPIRE…"

Sonal opened his eyes. Now, he was Darth Chaos, his eyes radiating an incandescent orange as the Dark Side's hold on him deepened. "He is a remarkably useful pawn, my master," Chaos declared. "His abhorrence of the Borg is deeply rooted." A surge of anger engulfed him, his raised eyebrows evoking an uncanny resemblance to the malevolent entity depicted in ancient Earth's religious beliefs—a figure synonymous with evil and darkness. Chaos's voice assumed a low, guttural tone. "Yet, my animosity...runs even deeper…" His gaze shifted to a wall-mounted portrait above his bunk—a striking woman with dark tresses. "I shall avenge you, Caitlin Yar…"

Abruptly, the door chime resounded. Hastily, Sonal concealed his inner turmoil, his eyes reverting to their usual hue. "Enter." The door slid open, and Counselor Troi stepped in. Sonal stood up. "Counselor Troi, your presence is most welcome."

Troi regarded Sonal with a trace of concern in her eyes. "Is something troubling you, Sonal?"

"I strive to emulate Vulcan perfection to the best of my abilities," Sonal confessed. He guided Troi to a picture on the wall. "Yet, there are moments when I struggle to release the grip on the memory of the only woman I've ever loved."

"Who was she?" Troi asked.

"Her name," Sonal continued, "was Caitlin Yar. She happened to be the niece of one of your former colleagues, Tasha Yar. We crossed paths on Turkana IV. I was accompanying my mother, Saavik, during our visit to the planet. It was there that we encountered Caitlin and her mother, Ishara." Sonal's expression softened. "Caitlin was the only person I ever allowed myself to express my emotions to. Contrary to common misconceptions, Counselor, Vulcans aren't devoid of sentiment or warmth. We simply opt to employ logic in shaping our decisions."

Troi inquired with a touch of sorrow, "What happened to her?"

"Two years ago," Sonal's voice began to waver, "they were en route to visit me on Vulcan. They happened upon a Borg cube. Ishara lost her life while shielding Caitlin from danger, and Caitlin…"

"Caitlin was assimilated," Troi murmured softly.

"Yes," Sonal replied, a chill lacing his tone. "Since then, I resolved to lead my life guided solely by logic, eschewing the affliction of human emotions."

Troi gently placed her hand on Sonal's shoulder. "Sonal, would you be willing to join me in Ten Forward? Will, the Captain, and I would appreciate the opportunity to spend some quality time with you and perhaps enjoy your lyre music."

Sonal's eyebrows arched as he regarded Troi. "I would gladly accept your invitation." Retrieving his lyre, he walked alongside Troi to Ten Forward—a venue that offered refreshments and camaraderie to the entire crew around the clock.

"Welcome, Commander Sonal," greeted the Captain. "How about a taste of Romulan Ale?"

"Yes, please," Sonal responded.

Seated together, Picard, Riker, Troi, and Sonal savored their drinks. Troi's words were slightly slurred from the effects of the intoxicating blue beverage as she proposed, "Captain, Sonal has his Vulcan lyre here. Perhaps he could treat us to some music."

Riker chimed in, "I'd love to hear that."

Picard's voice resonated with enthusiasm, "How about it, Commander?"

Sonal stood, clutching his lyre, and addressed their anticipation with a hint of irony, "Such eagerness is an illogical trait. However, yes, I shall oblige."

Taking a seat on a solitary stool upon the small musical stage, Sonal launched into an Earth tune from the twentieth century:

"REMEMBER WHEN YOU WERE YOUNG? YOU SHONE LIKE THE SUN. SHINE ON YOU CRAZY DIAMOND! NOW THERE'S A LOOK IN YOUR EYES, LIKE BLACK HOLES IN THE SKY. SHINE ON YOU CRAZY DIAMOND!"

Unbeknownst to the Enterprise crew, Sonal kept his eyelids firmly shut, concealing the dark orange hue that manifested when Darth Chaos held sway. He was immersed in communion with the Force, his animosity toward the Borg pushing him to his breaking point.

At the zenith of his disdain for the Borg, Palpatine's voice reached Sonal's consciousness. "Use the Force, Lord Chaos, and you shall exact...your...vengeance." He harnessed the full extent of his Force powers, conjuring a wormhole into existence that ensnared the Enterprise.

Abruptly, emergency klaxons blared, plunging the ship into red alert. Crew members scrambled to their feet, rushing to their designated stations. Upon reaching the bridge, Picard, Riker, Troi, and Sonal collaborated to make sense of the situation.

Then, as swiftly as it had appeared, the wormhole vanished. Picard sensed an eerie presence. "Sonal," he addressed quietly, "where are we?"

"In the Delta Quadrant, sir," Sonal answered without glancing away from his station. His attention was captured by an old Earth radio signal. "Sir, I'm detecting an ancient Earth radio signal."

"Display it on the main screen," Picard ordered. The screen depicted what appeared to be a partially constructed ship of staggering proportions—impeccably symmetrical and astonishingly immense. The scale was beyond comprehension, rendering the Enterprise minuscule by comparison. Instinctively, Sonal recognized the vessel. Memories of his father's tales from his childhood resurfaced.

"V'Ger," Sonal murmured.

Picard's expression was one of astonishment. "The V'Ger encountered by James T. Kirk. So, that planet of living machines…"

"The Borg homeworld," Sonal interjected, his smile taking on an eerie cast as his eyes began to radiate an orange hue. Darth Chaos had ensnared Picard as he intended, and Palpatine's influence over Darth Chaos was equally effective. Palpatine understood that the annihilation of the Borg would seal Sonal's descent into the Dark Side.

"Inquiry about our arrival seems irrelevant," Chaos remarked. "Our current location is the only pertinent fact. And now," he continued, his voice adopting a sinister timbre, "your opportunity for revenge presents itself." Chaos gestured with his hand, a command infused with a sense of dark power.

Picard's gaze became fixed on the machine-infused planet, his consciousness manipulated by the Force. "Yes," he agreed with a slither of malice, "revenge is within reach."

"Your nanoprobes will not malfunction," Chaos asserted, his hand commanding the unfolding scene.

Entrapped by Chaos' influence, Picard echoed, "My nanoprobes will not malfunction."

Chaos delivered the ultimate directive, "V'Ger and the Borg home planet must be annihilated. Focus all phaser power on the dish."

"Commander Worf," Picard issued the directive, "redirect all available phaser energy toward the dish and initiate an attack on V'Ger and the Borg homeworld."

However, Worf expressed his concerns, "But Captain, this action could cause the nanoprobes to malfunction. It defies the Prime Directive, altering history."

Abruptly, Darth Chaos whirled around, revealing his enraged countenance and his blazing orange eyes to the entire crew. His voice surged with rage, carrying a guttural and venomous tone, as he addressed Worf, "Your Captain has given you an explicit command, Klingon!" He pointed his fingers at Worf, discharging scorching lightning that coursed through Worf's body, inflicting excruciating torment. Chaos' malevolent smile grew as he extended his hand towards Worf's terminal. With a deft wave, he orchestrated the obliteration of the machine-infused planet and the Borg-constructed vessel—originally created for the ancient Earth probe Voyager VI—reducing them to nothingness.

With the eradication of the Borg collective, Picard sensed the gradual fading of the nanoprobes. Sonal's promise about the nanoprobes not malfunctioning had held true.

Chaos had executed his vengeance. As Sonal began to resurface, he focused on the remnants of the parasitic race that had inflicted tragedy upon his cherished Caitlin. "Finally," Sonal intoned, "you can rest, knowing the Borg's reign of terror has been extinguished."

Picard regarded Sonal with a gratified smile. "You've altered history. That implies I never endured assimilation by the Borg."

Commander Sonal gestured once more, conjuring the reopening of the wormhole, which subsequently transported the Enterprise back to its original point in Federation space and time, prior to Sonal's manipulation that had transported the ship to the Delta Quadrant.

"Indeed," Sonal affirmed, "and your cybernetic heart shall remain impervious to malfunction." Picard and Sonal's attention turned towards the incapacitated Worf. "What... what happened here?" Sonal inquired.

Riker, embodying his characteristic sense of responsibility, stood up resolutely. "You're well aware, Commander. This was your doing." He signaled for two security personnel to advance towards Sonal. "Commander Sonal, on behalf of Starfleet, you are under arrest. Pending further instructions, you are to be confined to your quarters."

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rohisneighborhood · 1 year

Text

boy in the bubble

there once was a boy who lived in a bubble. this was not just any ordinary bubble, though, because it was the bubbliest bubble of them all. it was large and round and perfectly spherical—but most of all, it was home.

the boy in the bubble was quiet. he was quiet, and sweet, and kind, and everything good in this ugly world. he was an old soul, for he had wandered through space and time since beginning of space-time itself. he had seen the beginnings of civilizations and the ends of them. he witnessed the earth changing, oftentimes coming back to a certain place eons later only to find it completely changed. he donned many disguises—some knew him as their youngest king or a ruthless warlord. others knew him as a poet ahead of his time or a genius mathematician. he had far too much time on his hands, with no idea how to use it.

the boy in the bubble was made to hold the whole universe in his eyes. but the universe was always expanding, and one boy could only hold so much. time creeped up on him, a dark shadow waiting around every corner. and time—well, time was cruel. time stole love and happiness and life, so she merely did what she knew. she took the stars from his eyes.

time took the stars from his eyes and scattered them across his body. like artwork, they adorned every nook and cranny of his skin—supernovas and blackholes and nebulas alike. he spent his days counting them, one by one, and thinking of all the possibilities they held. but time was cruel. time was cruel, and whenever he thought he was done, she would sneak up on him and take some more. time took all the stars from his eyes, like a vicious game of cat and mouse, until he was left with one galaxy. time was cruel, yes, but, in the end, she was merely an idea, powerless without someone to worship her. she let him keep his one galaxy, because after all, even time herself could not survive without a little bit of hope. but he should have known; time passes, and he would soon be left with nothing again, because that is what she is best at.

the boy in the bubble had always been alone; the world outside his bubble’s glassy exterior had turned from a wondrous place full of curiosity and hope into a wasteland he could not imagine. his favorite spot—a grassy clearing in the middle of a thick forest—had been turned into rows and rows and rows of houses that all looked the same full of families that all looked the same who sent their children to schools that all looked the same.

wandering space and time alone—always alone—took its toll on him, though. he had been burdened with the weight of the world on his shoulders, and it was his duty to keep the world spinning. he couldn’t take a break. he repeated it like a mantra, constantly in his head no matter where he went or what he was doing. he had to keep going. he had to keep going. he had to keep going. alone. alone alone alone alone alone.

the boy in the bubble was always alone.

until he came along.

the boy from the stars.

there was not a time or place that they first met—one happened to stumble across the other—and it was like the stars had aligned. everything had fallen into its perfect place in the universe. neither could remember a time spent without the other, and they would cross paths where the sky met the stars. up up up up up he would reach, always trying but never enough. the boy from the stars drifted down, though, to meet him where he was lacking. he came from the sun, golden and burning, and the boy in the bubble had never been happier.

slow down! he shouted, panting. his arms rested on his knees. it felt like they were gripping on for life. i can’t keep up!

the sun was high overhead—was it sometime around noon? he couldn’t remember; they had been running for a lifetime. but it was the same sun he had seen when he first learned of the bubble around him, the same sun he had seen when he first met his other half, and the same sun that will continue to shine long after they both go back to the heavens. it brought him some sort of semblance of comfort, knowing that at least one thing would stay the same. but even the sun was due for death, and 5 billion years wasn't much when you had lived for far more.

even so, this was his root problem. there wasn't much love to go around in the first place, and the boy in the bubble had spent it all in his early years, coaxing the life into short saplings that would eventually tower over him, or teaching others what it means to truly be kind, or spreading his love over the soils of the earth, willing it to grow into something he knew would be beautiful. the boy in the bubble had so much love to give that he was practically bursting with it, wishing for the sun to send him someone he could shower it on. and send someone he did.

the boy from the stars turned around placidly, a halo forming around his lithe frame. he grinned, and suddenly the twenty feet between them grew to twenty universes. because no matter how fast he ran or how hard he tried, the boy in the bubble would never be able to catch up. after all, the stars were billions of light years away, and by the time their light reached the earth, they were dead. he knew this, had even spent years just poring over thousands of books hoping to find a way out, and yet he still got up and pumped his legs as hard as he could until he felt the air rushing in and out of his broken lungs. he knew this, and yet he still raced against time herself in a battle for love: everything that mattered.

hurry up, slowpoke!

twenty feet became ten became five became two became one, until they crashed into each other, tumbling down the crowded dirt road. shop owners and pedestrians alike muttered badly-hidden curses underneath their breaths, wondering what two odd boys wearing odd clothes and odd expressions were doing in a dusty alley in the middle of the sahara desert. but if he was being completely honest, he couldn't have cared less, because.

the boy from the stars was smiling as if it were judgement day, and all the stars had aligned to send him to heaven. it might not have been judgement day, but the boy in the bubble was sure the stars had aligned, if only to see him smile for a mere second. sure, they were pinned to the ground and were about to get trampled over at any second, but there was a sensation of cathartic happiness in the small space between the two of them, and neither really wanted to let go.

what should we do now? the boy in the bubble whispered. they got up, slowly, their joints crackling with every new stretching position. their eyes met.

i don’t know.

and it was okay. it was okay, for them, to not know. they had all the time in the world, and both of them knew that time herself would bend over backwards to get a glimpse of their love, for she was without it, and all her cruelty came from a place of loneliness. so they linked arms, extending a hand to time. she took it, thankfully, and whisked them away to her home, existing only in the shadows of the gods. and yeah, time stole the stars from his eyes, but he was no better, right?

time stole the stars from his eyes, but, at the end of the day, everyone makes mistakes, and the boy from the bubble made many. time, like the steadfast companion she was, washed them away--gentle waves crashing over the shore again and again and again until the hurts were gone. time, like the steadfast companion she was, paid no attention to his mistakes, so who was he to judge hers?

finally, the other boy spoke up.

time?

he smiled.

so you are familiar with each other?

they grimaced, space and time themselves.

you could say that.

he didn't prod further. time whisked them away.

i am truly sorry, for all i have done.

time was supposed to be harsh. she was supposed to be unforgiving, and she was supposed to take the stars out of his eyes. he knew that. he was okay with that. time was not supposed to feel. she was not supposed to be sorry for her actions, and she was definitely not supposed to be apologizing. to him! of all people! the boy in the bubble must have meant a lot, to the fate of the universe, if time was apologizing to him.

oh.

his mind raced. if only the boy from the stars could see him now.

i mean it. i really do.

scratch that. he wished the boy from the stars was never here. it wasn't that he was uncomfortable with seeming vulnerable around him—they had crossed that line ages ago—but rather it was that there was something going on with time herself, and for the first time, he didn't know what. it made him nauseous.

okay.

he didn't know where they were. time felt at ease, though, taking them on a stroll around a lake. she recognized a small boy, ruffled his hair, commented on his new bike, and sent him on his way. she leaned down to pick up a random rock from the edge and threw it across the lake. it skipped five times before landing with a satisfying plonk! and sinking to the lake's bottom. she turned around and clasped her hands together.

i am dying.

damn.

it came from the other one.

he took three steps, took his hands out of his pockets, and shoved time into the lake. she just reappeared behind them, a constant reminder that they could never win against her. after all, no one could possibly beat time; she was the doomsday clock that kept on ticking, bringing everyone a little bit closer to the end each passing second. and sure, the boy from the stars had tried to stop her passing (on multiple occasions), but it was to no avail. there wasn't really a point in trying anymore—she had won long before they had even started.

which is why the boy from the stars took his hand, turned around, and walked away. they walked for miles and miles on end; it could have been hours or days or weeks or months, but it didn't really matter, you see, because their hands were intertwined the whole way. and the boy in the bubble wondered--did he ever get tired? did he ever get tired of constantly having to shine golden underneath the blazing sun? did he ever get tired of him, the boy in the bubble, whose glassy exterior reflected all light, leaving a pale, cold-hearted excuse of a human being below? he voiced his concerns.

the boy from the stars scrunched up his eyebrows, tilted his head, and squeezed their interlocked hands.

no?

why was it a question?

no, bubbles. i would never. he choked out a laugh, harsh. what makes you think that?

i don't know. he reconsidered it. it's just that, you're you and i'm me. i don't get why you're here, right now, with me, when you could be anywhere in the entire universe. because the fact of the matter is, you are destined for great things. i'm not.

the boy in the bubble paused.

and that's okay, i think. i've accepted it. but you shouldn't resign yourself to someone like me. not when you could be great. you pushed down time, back there! time herself! see, that's what makes us fundamentally different, you know? you are brave. you are brave and courageous, and you shine brighter than the sun. you hold the stars in your eyes. and me? i am not brave, like you. time took the stars from my eyes and left me with one. but you know what? i think you have been replacing the stars in my eyes. i think you, slowly but surely, have been giving me your light. i think you have a huge heart, my love, and you should never, ever tie yourself down with someone like me.

there were tears in his eyes. he let go of the other's hand and clenched his so hard that little crescent moons appeared on his palms. that moment, when the sun was low on the horizon and the sky was painted shades of pink, would scar time forever. forget romeo and juliet, or achilles and patroclus. this story was for the boy in the bubble, who loved the boy from the stars so fucking much that he just had to let him go.

you wanna know what i think? he gulped. tears marred his golden complexion. i think you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. the stars sent me down for you, bubbles. not for anyone or anything else. i don't care whether you think that i am destined for bigger things. i'll love you for the rest of time, yeah? as long as you want me.

i do. he blinked. and smiled. for the rest of time.

the boy from the stars reached his hand up to wipe the tears from his face. he leaned in, and the boy in the bubble could almost feel it. he could almost feel the heat emanating from his lips, and the heat that would be coursing through his veins when they touched. he could almost feel the steady warmth from his hands, resting on his waist and pulling him closer. he could almost feel the love radiating off of the boy, just waiting for him to say yes, this is what i want.

but he could also almost feel the inevitable heartbreak that would come afterwards. he could almost feel the cold air rushing through his lips and teeth once they broke apart. he could almost feel the yelling and screaming and crying when they had their first argument. he could almost feel the emptiness within after the boy from the stars left just like everyone else did.

fuck it, he thought. he leaned in closer. and then-

pop!

#original writing #original work #writing #writblr #bubble #gay love #gay

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nekonom26 · 5 months

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Rating: General Audiences Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Category: M/M Fandom: 묘령의 황자 | Mystic Prince (Webcomic) Relationship: Choran/Hae-eon Characters:Choran; Hae-eon Additional Tags: Choran is a tsundere; Cute; nap; little snippet; it's just Hea-eon napping on Choran's tights Language:Français

#myfanfic #mystic prince #choran #hea-eon #cute

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hotched · 2 years

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Burning House

Summary: Reader is struggling to find their new normal when they run into Jack and Aaron in the middle of the grocery store. How much more can a heart break?

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

Inspired by Burning House by Cam

Warnings: heartbroken Jack. Angst :(

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: will she or won’t she write a HEA?

“I could take you back

But people don’t ever change

…

I’ll stay here with you

Until this dream is gone”

You were miserable. There was no other way to put it. You thought the time and space would be good; that it would give you some much needed clarity. The only thing that was clear now was that you needed him. You were never one to need anyone, you had been self-sufficient for as long as you could remember. Growing up, you were never coddled or spoiled with attention. Physical affection of any kind was never given freely at your house. So when Aaron came around and wormed his way into your life, you were surprised by how often he would find a way to connect with you. Whether you were holding hands while eating breakfast or feeling him brush his hand against your side as he moved past you, his hands were never far. You found yourself becoming dependent on these little moments so much so that when they were suddenly gone along with the rest of him, you were feeling more empty than before.

You were no stranger to loneliness, but it’s a different sort of loneliness when you know what you’re missing. Without Aaron or Jack, your circle became even smaller and harder to convince you were fine.

It had only been a month since you left but it felt like eons. Everyday you fought with yourself on whether you made the right decision. You understood his reasonings and his fears but he needed to understand that being in a relationship was like being in a team. It was supposed to be the two of you against the world; not one person carrying the burden of the world to try to protect the other. You shared bad moments just as much as you shared the good. Aaron was used to leading the team, protecting them from hardships they’d never know but when he walked through his front door, the unit chief hat was supposed to come off. Maybe you should have been more patient and understanding instead of walking out when push came to shove. Now, you’d never know.

Transitioning into a new routine made you realize that more than the fight, you needed the space to find yourself again. You had become too dependent on those boys to distract you from everything going on. You no longer had Jack’s everyday practices to hide behind and had to figure out what you loved again. The activities you once loved didn’t hold the same sentiment so you found yourself taking classes at the local college to explore. Tuesday’s were filled with cooking classes and drinks with your coworkers while weekends meant trips to the local park to run. After a couple of weeks, you were able to smile again without pretending and your friends only questioned how you were after a long night.

It didn’t matter how you spent your days, your nights were still filled with dreams of quiet moments in the Hotchner house. Some nights you were watching tv with Jack asleep in your arms while Aaron traced patterns on your sides and others you were cheering on Jack as he scored a goal and Coach Hotchner looked back at you with a toothy grin. You found yourself avoiding caffeine and exerting yourself more so that the moment your head hit the pillow, you were fast asleep in a world where you were back home. You’d wake in the morning and try to keep your eyes closed as long as possible to hold onto the moment before your alarm would finally go off.

You kept on this routine for two months before the inevitable happened.

After your morning run, you found yourself picking up groceries Saturday morning. You were standing in the pasta aisle debating on the best pasta shape for the soup recipe you learned in class that week when you heard someone yell your name. Little arms flung themselves around your waist as you realized it was Jack and bent down to give him a giant hug. You spent a moment holding him and running your fingers through his long hair before you pulled away.

A huge smile was on his face as he started talking, “(Y/N)! I’m so glad you’re here! I wanted to invite you to my soccer game this weekend! The other coach is one of my teachers from school and I really want you to meet him. Daddy said this should be a really fun game since the other team has been practicing just as hard as we have. We spent a couple of hours last weekend working on my passing and Dad brought home a traffic cone - a real traffic cone - to pass around. He said I did really good cos I only tripped a couple of times. You’ll come, right?”

His hands were waving around as he mimicked the movement around the cone and the gestures brought tears to your eyes. You missed him so much.

“Of course, buddy” you promised, one hand coming up to brush a strand of hair out of his face. His eyes shined brightly up at you with a grin that matched your own. He pulled you in for another hug, wrapping his little arms around your neck and burying his face in your neck. You rubbed soothing circles on his back and kissed the side of his head as you brought your eyes up to acknowledge the older Hotchner standing next to your cart. He was looking down at the two of you with glistening eyes and a watery smile. You pulled your eyes away from him and held onto Jack a little tighter as the sight of him brought forth an onslaught of emotions you had been avoiding for months.

After another minute, Jack pulled away and put his small hands on the sides of your face. He looked at you with wide eyes and a tight smile and your stomach dropped. You could tell the next conversation wouldn’t be easy and you found yourself hoping no one else was looking for pasta this morning so you’d have some semblance of privacy.

“You can come home now” he started, glancing over at his father and then back at you, “Daddy’s been home almost every night. When he has cases he calls again to tell me goodnight and he makes waffles on Sundays. Everything is going back to normal - now we just need you.”

His determined yet hopeful look broke your heart. You pulled his hands from your face and kissed his palms, holding them in between you as you gave him a small smile. You were avoiding looking up at Aaron so you wouldn’t have to see the hope on his face either. Part of you had spent the past months wondering how he felt. Had he been missing you like you missed him? Had he moved on? You avoided his gaze because it would hurt to see his heartache but it would hurt much worse if his eyes were empty.

“Buddy..” you trailed off, not wanting to break his heart again but knowing you still weren’t ready. You weren’t sure you would ever be. He may be home now but that doesn’t mean the same situation won’t happen again in the future. There’s always going to be bad guys and there will always be a target on your back when choosing him. You wanted nothing more than to choose him. To say to hell with whatever risks it meant but if choosing him meant the loneliness you had become accustomed to, you couldn’t. You felt less alone now than you felt with him.

Aaron stepped away from his place by your cart and rubbed his hands on Jack’s shoulders.

“Jack, we talked about this” he scolded softly, his brows furrowed as you finally looked up at him. His eyes were watery as they traced over your features. The hopeless look in them was your undoing. You pulled away from Jack and stood, your knees groaning from the lack of movement.

“I’m sorry buddy. I promise I’ll be at your game this weekend though. Maybe we can talk Aunt Jess into a trip to the zoo one of these weekends” you offered, grabbing your cart and a random box of pasta.

The look of defeat he gave you pulled at your already breaking resolve. The silence was interrupted by someone walking between you and the boys with a quick apology. You were reminded of your surroundings and took the moment to pull yourself together. Flashing a weary smile at Aaron, you moved to ruffle Jack’s hair and kissed the side of his head.

“Behave this week and practice hard. I’ll see you this weekend Jack” you declared with one last smile and a wave as you started towards another aisle. It took everything in you to keep walking without turning around when you passed Aaron and a waft of him hit you. Your jaw was clenched like your grip on the cart and a mantra of one foot in front of the other played in your mind.

Both parties walked out of the store with wet cheeks and a full cart to combat the heartache.

Tag list:

@itsmytimetoodream @dadbodhotch11 @angelmather1 @averyhotchner @14buddy22 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @anonymoustip213 @ssamorganhotchner @mintphoenix

#mads writes #mads writes angst #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #hotch x reader #hotch x you #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner fic #Jack hotchner

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prettybirdy979 · 3 years

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Fic: Aziraphale/Crowley - “I won’t let you fall.”

Please feel free to send me any prompts. More of my fics here. This prompt from here and picked by me because I could. Feel free to send me any you wanna see.

‘Angel, what are we doing?’

Aziraphale doesn’t have the grace to look surprised, or even thrown by Crowley’s question. Instead he just smiles and continues down the path, like a midnight walk is a normal thing to be doing. Crowley almost wants to grumble about how he could be in bed, but they’d both know that’s a lie - Crowley never goes to bed before stupidly early in the morning, those are the hours for demons; not sunrise.

‘An-gel,’ Crowley tries, pleased when he nails the tone of ‘awful child asking “Are we THERE yet” for the tenth time’.

A sigh. ‘Nearly.’

Aziraphale turns up the path that leads to the cliffs. Oh hang on-

‘Angel?’ Crowley asks, pausing at the start of the path. ‘Where are we going?’

Aziraphale pauses, already halfway up the path. ‘Stargazing. They say the view is going to be lovely tonight and I thought we’d get a good view.’ He looks at Crowley earnestly. ‘I know how you are with heights my dear… but we don’t have to go near the edge; it’s just somewhere high to view from.’

But Crowley can see Aziraphale’s wings, just out of mortal sight. He knows the angel, better than anyone - even God, he’s sure - and he knows how much Aziraphale loves flying. And how much he’d hated the eons old direction forbidding flying on Earth, once humans got numerous enough that sightings were hard to avoid.

Hel- Hea- Earth, Aziraphale had even gone to the effort of taking all temptations and blessings in America once he got wind of the Wright brothers. Just so he could be there to get in on the ground floor - top floor? - of humanity flying. Right up until the forced end of their Arrangement, all Crowley had to do was suggest a temptation had some relation to flying and the angel was all over it.

So Aziraphale would like to fly. Would love to fly.

But he won’t leave Crowley alone to do it.

‘And what… what if we don’t stay away from the edge.’

Aziraphale’s look instantly tells Crowley that his angel had no interior motive for this walk; he really did just want to look at stars. He looks half confused, half delighted and all terrified, like he’s been given a gift he knows he can’t keep.

‘You don’t like flying.’ It’s a statement of fact in Aziraphale’s voice, gentle as his tone is. The sky is blue, the grass is green and Crowley doesn’t like to fly.

Well. More accurately, Crowley doesn’t want to fall - and flying is just like falling sometimes.

‘With you… with you it might be okay.’

Aziraphale is by Crowley’s side in an instant, holding him tight. ‘I won’t let you fall,’ he promises as Crowley clutches at him.

‘And if I chicken out?’ Crowley asks.

‘Then I still won’t let you fall. But ah, metaphorically. We can watch the stars; it’ll be magical.’

And that, that is enough for Crowley to pull out of Aziraphale’s arms and take his hand. ‘Come on angel,’ he says as he leads his angel up the cliff and to the edge.

He pauses for a moment, wings now out and his grip on Aziraphale’s hand punishingly tight, before he sighs and takes a step of faith.

Aziraphale, he thinks, and a moment later they’re flying.

Together.

#good omens #My Scribbles #ineffable husbands

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yet-another-heathen · 3 years

Text

Under the Cover of Night - III. [Old Version]

954 words. Original Work: The Jackal of An-Nadr.

<< | previous | next | >>

Chapter Warning | capture, xenophobia

Author’s Notes | Here we have the first instance of hearing Qururaq through Nadeem’s perspective! Because the ifrit’s words are plot-relevant, from here out it will be written in z̸̪̅ȃ̸̖l̶̑ͅg̵̞̀o̴̥̍ to indicate what he can’t understand but we, delightfully, will. If this causes any problems for my font-sensitive readers, please reach out and I will gladly send you a translated copy! And thank you so much to @secretwhumplair , whose incredible ongoing series, No Warrior, inspired this format of language barrier whump!

Taglist | @killtheprotagonist @ink-and-salt @secretwhumplair

When night came and the last of the light had sunk beyond the dunes, Nadeem inched his way out from the edge of the riverbed. A large fire burned at the heart of the ifrit camp, casting ripples of false warmth out across the water like embers. He moved slowly, careful not to disturb the surface of the water lest someone see the reflection against the flames.

It was a slow crawl up the embankment as he kept to his hands and knees, clinging to the cover of the banthum grass. When he finally made it to the crest and slipped down the other side, he closed his eyes and let out a breath that felt like it had been stuck in his lungs for days.

The night was moonless, and the stars cast little light on the landscape around him. Dark shadows welled beneath the wild date palms, shifting with the movement of their fronds.

He gingerly made his way to his feet, ankle angry and swollen beneath his weight. He was careful to keep his head low, following the edges of the rock bed, and he kept his hands spread to catch himself as quietly as he could should he stumble.

He had no recollection of the path he’d taken into the trees, but he knew he’d eventually find sand the further he got from the water. He followed the lowest path he could between the outcrops of stone, moving silently between the dense patches of cover.

Ahead the grove thickened, creating a canopy of fronds under which the ground was beginning to soften. He headed for their depths, eager for the promised safety that would calm the feeling of ant bites at his nape. Breaths clouded against the back side of his litham, the fabric keeping them silent from the world outside. He would take the chance of stumbling into the shelter of coiled snakes and other wildlife over the chance of being seen.

There was no moon over An-Nadr, and the light of the stars was distant and faint through the leaves. Away from the familiar paths and eddies of his home, Nadeem's progress was slow through the dark. No animal walked in steady, even tempos but men; and so he kept his pace faint and hesitant to disguise the sound of his footsteps through the littered clay. Often he stopped and held his breath to listen and observe the shadows around him, picking the path least likely to catch on sticks and twigs. Behind him followed an uneven trail of single bloody footsteps, meandering back through the dark.

He watched through the faint windows of trees for the lighter gray of the dunes, and soon he caught glimpses of the open desert far beyond the leaves. He slunk low between patches of cover, keeping the distant sound of the fire to his back.

He’d nearly made it to the edge of the oasis when something pricked at the edge of his hearing. He stopped in his tracks, straining to listen as icy panic flashed through his limbs.

For a long while the night answered him with nothing but silence, stretching out the moment to eons. And then he heard it again—about thirty feet to his right, the faintest sound of something in the dark. He lowered himself into the shelter of the surrounding bushes, crouching to listen with his heart pounding in his throat.

Then a twig snapped somewhere in the darkness right before him, and Nadeem forgot how to breathe.

Like a hare cornered by a dog, his heart plummeted through his spine as something in the shadows before him moved. Starlight poured down like a nightmare, leaves shuddering against their branches.

A massive figure stepped from the shadows, melting into the starlight.

The ifrit towered before him and inclined its head, the darkness splitting into a grin. Something else moved behind it, emerging from the shade by its side.

—No.

Nadeem shot backwards and tried to run, not a single thought given to the pain in his ankle. He only made it a few steps before he collided headlong into something hard.

Enormous hands grabbed him, breath leaving his lungs from the force of the impact. He gasped and struggled, trying to yank free as the monster locked hands around him.

He clawed and shoved, a panicked litany of, “No no no no, no—” falling from his lips. The ifrit from before, with the black sash across its chest, called something into the night, its voice rumbling through its chest.

With an effortless twist of a hand it pulled his head back, nearly lifting him off of his feet by the nape of his neck. He choked and gasped, staring with wide eyes up into its face.

Dark eyes smiled down at him, half-lidded and glinting above its teeth.

“Let go of me,” he gasped, “Let—”

He cut off into a tight whine as it reached up and captured the cloth of his litham between its fingers, so close to his face that he felt the heat pouring off its skin.

"H̴͎̆e̶̙̅l̷̤̿l̷͓̍o̴̖͋,̸̨̕ ̷̭̀ḹ̸ȋ̶͈t̶̩̆t̶̼͑ĺ̴͓e̸̮͐ ̶͍̒j̷̮́a̷̢̍č̵͉k̶̬͆á̴͜l̸͔̔.̴̪̚"

The ifrit purred something in its rumbling language, a sharp grin leering down at him.

"S̸͎̅ọ̸̀ ̵̙̎g̶̣̋ō̸̺ȯ̴̲d̶̐ͅ ̶̪̀o̷̖̐f̴͍̓ ̵͈̍y̴͉͠o̷̱̿ư̴̦ ̴̲̇t̸͎͠ŏ̸̺ ̷̡͐f̵̛̲i̷̥̎n̸͕̿a̶̯̿ḷ̶́l̵͜͝y̸͂ͅ ̸̦͝j̶̣̃ō̵͕i̴͈̎n̶͇̔ ̶͙͘ű̸͓s̵͈̄.̶̟̓"

---

Ifyaa glanced up when the sound of struggling edged into the camp. Two of his fellow ifrit emerged from the shadows, followed by Yeezumon and the thrashing, clawing human he was dragging with him.

Every set of eyes fixed on the dirtblood as he cast wildly around the camp, limping and dragging one of his feet. His clothes were muddy and torn, grimacing as Yeezumon forced him to his knees.

From the other side of the fire, Adrsiae inclined her head.

"So we do have a guest,” she mused. The human strained away in Yeezumon’s grip as she rose to her feet, watching her through narrowed eyes. His shoulders jerked when she reached out and took his chin in her palm, “You found it at the end of the blood trail?”

“Near there. Had it waited only ten minutes longer it probably would have slipped past us back out into the wastes,” another member of the hunting party muttered. She grunted softly as she knelt at the edge of her tent, adjusting the leg of her pants, “Gave us one hell of a fight on the way back.”

“Hm.”

He leveled the captain with a scathing glare when she turned him by the jaw, and then tugged down its face cloth to see his features in the light. Dark eyes narrowed under thick, winged brows, the domed bridge of its nose crinkling with the force of its snarl. Cracked lips and bared teeth, jaw lined with overgrown stubble that looked like it had been well cared for until quite recently. It was rugged but...an undeniably pretty face. Her claws left indents in its cheeks as she turned it in the firelight, appraising.

Then she released it, and it gave a full-body shudder as she turned away and reclaimed her spot by the fire.

“Yeezumon, you were the one who tracked it down?”

“I was.”

She leaned back, tearing into the soft flesh of a date, “Then it’s yours. Do with it as you wish.”

Their eyes didn’t leave the human, whose smell of fear was tangible in the air even as he squared his shoulders and glared viciously back at her. Each of them nodded in deference to their captain, absently touching their thumbs to their temples.

“Careful Yeezumon,” one of them teased, flashing his canines in a mockery of the human’s bared teeth, “It looks like it wants to bite.”

A ripple of laughter broke through the camp.

“It's handsome, for a dirtblood,” another admitted.

Both Yeezumon and Ifyaa smiled, sharing a frisson of eye contact across the camp. Then Yeezumon lifted its face, making it meet his gaze.

“So it is,” he crooned, “And we’ll put it to good use.”

next | >>

#my first series #words of a heathen #The Jackal of An-Nadr #capture #manhandling #slavery tw #brief innuendo #ifrit #Middle Eastern fantasy #fantasy writing #jinn #Nadeem el-Azimi #Yeezumon #Ifyaa #and our first introduction to Adrsiae!#xenophobia

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