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irisintheafterglow · 6 months

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Hiii!! I’m absolutely in love with the way you write kiyoomi :) he’s literally perfect. If you have time, I would love a scenario where his partner meets the black jackals for the first time!! Whether it’s accidental or on purpose is up to you :)

but he was so much fun (and he had such weird friends!)

cw/tags: gn!reader, swearing, mentions of cooking and eating, domestic omi crumbs, established relationship and pet names (love, baby), pure jackals crack

note: hi love!!! this prompt is so funny omg i'm obsessed. hope you like it!!! i got extremely carried away

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated :)

"i'm-" he starts, huffing out an irritated breath and setting his knife on the cutting board, gripping the edges of the countertop. you turn to look at him from your spot at the stove, tapping the wooden spoon against the edge of the pot and placing it in the spoon rest. you check the vegetable prep over his shoulder and find neat piles of cut carrots, cauliflower, and potatoes. it didn't seem like anything was wrong with his knife skills, so it perplexed you why he was suddenly having trouble expressing his thoughts. "i'm having..."

"you're having?" you wipe your hands on a kitchen towel and gently turn him to face you, snaking your arms around his neck while his hands find their natural place on your hips. your thumb absentmindedly brushes over his moles, right above his furrowed eyebrows of annoyance.

"doubts," he says uncertainly, glancing at the dining table set for four more than its usual two occupants. the corner of his mouth juts to the side in obvious discontent, even though he was trying not to dampen your excitement for formally meeting his friends. not that he would ever call them that, at least not in this lifetime.

"how so, baby?"

"they can be a little...hard to handle," he mutters. "you know them. you've seen it," he says, voice strained and it makes you chuckle at the memory of the first time you actually met his friends.

kiyoomi wishes that it didn't happen that way at least twice a day. it was partially your fault, overestimating your ability to find him in the back halls of the msby gym facilities after only a few months of dating. after turning yourself around about four different times and unable to retrace your steps, you settled for walking in the direction of a nearby conversation. you ended up, however, steering a wrong turn into the men's locker room, yelping in surprise when you were met with three bare chests, none of which belonged to your boyfriend. apologizing profusely and briskly walking away, you were fleeing too quickly to hear the three players equally as alarmed.

it was like a scene from a cartoon; you could vaguely make out the sound of things being thrown like shirts, water bottles, and flailing limbs. there were hushed whispers of holy shit, someone just walked in here and they're so pretty and put some fucking clothes on, shoyo, that's indecency. you make the executive decision to just wait for him outside, but before you leave, your boyfriend's voice rings loud and clear from around the corner.

"what the hell are you guys freaking out about?"

"omi, dude. you just missed them."

"missed who?"

"there was this really pretty person that walked in! they were wearing the same zip-up that you were wearing yesterday, isn't that neat?" your attention darts down to the jacket that was very much kiyoomi's and definitely not yours, your face warming from pure embarrassment. "maybe you could ask them if they shop there frequently; i think they'd be your type."

"since when did sakusa have a type?"

"hey, wait! where are you going?" is the last question you hear before your boyfriend comes barreling around the corner in nothing but shower shoes and sweatpants and looking just as bewildered as you and the three guys in the locker room. after a palpable moment of shocked silence, you both word-vomit at the same time.

"you're wearing my jacket."

"why are you shirtless?!"

"you're wearing my jacket." his voice drops in volume to a yelled whisper, his hand pulling you further down the hallway and away from the locker room despite his lack of clothes. a few of the gym staff eye you in confusion and you give them a weak smile, fighting the urge to stare at the muscle rippling across kiyoomi's body. "you're wearing my jacket," he repeats for the third time, as if it was taking several tries for his brain to compute the information in front of him.

"that's your main concern?!"

"no, shit, no," he shakes his head, regaining his composure after his mind short-circuited. "my main concern is you running into the three stupidest members of my team without me there-"

"and while they were shirtless," you add and his nose scrunches in pure distaste. "wait, why don't you want me to meet them without you there?"

"because they're stupid and-and i love you and they're-and they're stupid," he stammers, visibly flustered in a way that you'd never seen him before. it sets your face on fire, hearing how easily he said he loved you when you'd never said it to each other up until that point. the same realization must hit him at the same time and he pinches the bridge of his nose in defeat, sighing through his nose. "i just said i love you."

"you just said you love me," you echo, a delirious smile widening on your mouth as you peel his fingers away from his face and lace them into yours. "you just said you love me."

"he just said he loves them!" a very eavesdropping-sounding whisper comes from behind the wall and you both flinch. like a straw breaking a camel's back, kiyoomi's face contorted into a vengeful scowl. he composed himself for a moment, promising you he'd be right back, and then stomping around the corner where you heard receding screams of terror.

that was five months ago, and you finally convinced kiyoomi to let you meet his friends formally, along with atsumu's brother who was bringing more food to help you feed four pro athletes.

"i've seen a lot more than just them being stupid," you remind him, giggling when his face turns a light shade of pink. "and, i think it's endearing how much they care for you. i know you won't admit it, but i know you care about them, too." he gazes at you so softly that it makes you melt a little. i'm gonna marry you, one day, he thinks. "now, i promise i won't be deterred by their idiocy, so let me get back to cooking, okay?"

"okay," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. "i love you. a lot."

"i love you even more, omi."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#sakusa x you #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x you #sakusa x y/n #sakusa kiyoomi fluff #haikyu x you #haikyu x reader #haikyu fluff #hq x you #hq x reader #hq x y/n #ask iris!

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vendetta-if · 7 months

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bit of a nsfw question (feel free not to answer if its too much!!) ro’s reactions to grandpa walking in on them and the mc while they are getting frisky, lets say grandpa doesn’t know they are together yet… how many fire alarms are going off?? who is frozen?? who is begging for forgiveness??

(bonus: uncle luka’s reaction when he hears about the incident)

thank you so much, i love your story!!

Ash

Kill Bill siren ringing in their head as they freeze like a deer caught in the headlights. Their brain just overloads as they are torn between getting off MC or getting to Gramps feet and beg for his forgiveness (despite them being one of the ROs Gramps definitely approves 😂)

As for Luka's reaction to that, he would probably get a good chuckle out of that and it's a reaction he totally expects from Ash.

Rin

Would be surprised but keep it cool as they get off MC and tidy up their clothes. And then they would calmly and politely ask Gramps about what he needs from them or MC. Honestly, they would be ready to continue again once Gramps leave them 😆

Luka's reaction to this is honestly respect; there's a chance he wouldn't be able to keep that cool if Gramps walk in on him and Jackal.

Santana

Would yelp in surprise and quickly get off MC. Would then apologize to Gramps profusely, face red as they fluster. Probably would not be able to continue after this out of pure embarrassment just killing the mood 🤭

I don't think Luka would have a lot of reaction to this. It's the most expected reaction in general to getting walked into, especially by your partner's grandparent, right? But still, he'll approve of Santana apologizing politely.

Skylar

The only one who might be confident (and crazy) enough to not move at all and just turn to face Gramps with a lopsided grin on their face and asks him nicely whether he can give them and MC some private space so they and MC can continue peacefully 💀 It's not the first time someone accidentally walked in on them getting frisky.

Luka's first reaction to that would be surprise, of course. They did what?! The stunt Skylar pulled might actually win some of Luka's begrudging respect, whether he realizes it or not. Skylar's got massive balls, that's for sure, to do something so cheeky to someone as intimidating as Gramps.

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ivonhart · 8 months

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the moon | steven grant x fem werewolf!reader

+ marc spector & jake lockley

— chapter two

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| previous

cross posted on ao3

gif credit: @paper-n-ashes

summary: You've always hated the moon. Hated the way it made your body bend and break into a new form every month. Hated the way it tied you to one of the many gods of it. But you couldn't hate what the moon connected you to…who it connected you to.

a/n: Expect slower updates because I'm getting stuff sorted out for my new job which is taking up a good chunk of energy and that doesn't even include personal hardships. Any and all patience and understanding would be greatly appreciated.

As you sat across the street from the museum entrance, watching as the last remaining workers file their way out you couldn’t help the anxiety filling your chest. With each passing minute the scars that coated the inside of your arm grew more and more agitated. Your sharp nails racked up and down across the skin, causing the blood vessels to pop. Something was wrong. Normally, Steven would be making his way out but today was different. “YOU DOG!”

The sudden voice of Khonshu caused you to yelp. Your ears slightly ringing from the volume of his yell. “What are you still doing out here, hmm?” A confused expression passed your face as you looked up at him. “What are you talking about?” You said while a small wince as you stood up. Your knees popping back into place from staying dormant for a long period of time.

“First the parasite woke up during Marc’s mission for the Scarab, completely messing it up, and now Harrow is after him because he told him his name.” The mention of the man’s previous Avatar made your eyes blow wide and without another look at the god, you raced across the street.

“Give me the Scarab and you won’t be torn apart.” A low growl left the lips of the wolf making her way through the museum. Her nose zeroed in on the familiar scent that surrounded the human. “FindStevenFindStevenFindSteven.” It’s all the wolf could think as her giant paws slide across the tile floors. That’s when a loud scream bounced around the museum walls. Her ears flicked back and forth in order to locate which way it came from. “FindSteven.” Find. Find. Find. That’s all the human told her to do. Find Steven.

Steven’s eyes almost popped out of his head when he saw it. A wolf at least seven feet tall with black fur devoid of any color aside from the large glowing white eyes and crescent moon on its forehead. Steven was too entranced, and scared, by the wolf that he didn’t realize the Jackal was right on top of him until it was too late.

The impact from the monster sent Steven sliding across the tile before dumping up against a podium, smacking his head in the process. Despite his unfocused eyes, the man still knew that the thing was racing towards him once more with its jaws wide open.

However, before the creature would wrap its mouth around his head, the black wolf slammed straight into it. Both bodies smashed into a glass case, causing it to explode. As Steven’s eyes became steady and the ringing in his ears faded he took note of a wet sound. Slowly, the man rose to his feet and what he saw across the room made his legs almost buckle once more.

The wolf tearing apart the monster’s body with crazed movements. The once polished white floors got draped over by the quickly growing pool of blood and entrails. Steven couldn’t hold back his screech at the sight which caused the wolf’s head to snap towards him once more. Bile rose into his throat when he saw the blood and flesh dripping from the animal’s mouth.

“StevenStevenStevenSteven.” Her voice muttered over and over again within the wolf’s mind. Slowly, the wolf turned from the body but before she could do anything else she watched the man sprint towards a bathroom.

“MakeSureHeIsSaf–LookForMor–SafeSafeSafe.” The voice blended together in a mix of thoughts, causing the wolf to go after Steven. Unfortunately, before the wolf could make her way towards the bathroom, another Jackal jumped from behind the corner and sent its claws into her side.

The moment Marc exited the bathroom in his armor he was immediately at your side after defeating the last monster. The black fur falling from your body, leaving you in a pool of her blood and fur. When his hand grazed your shoulder, you released a low groan as you rolled on to your back. You always hated the aftermath of changing, the wear and tear on your joints caused them to lock up.

“Come on. Up you go.” Marc said softly, his hand barely touching your back as he helped you stand. “I’m really feeling this one, Marc.” You said through a wince. Your hand holding your side where the Jackal attacked your wolf. Despite your advanced healing granted from the armor Khonshu begrudgingly gave you, the injuries sustained by the wolf would occasionally travel bodies. Leaving your more fragile bones to hold the aches and pains.

The moment the two of you entered your apartment, the air grew tense. The man stood stiff next to your couch while you allowed the armor to disappear from your body, leaving you bare while you made your way to your closest. “Why didn’t you tell me what happened during the mission, Marc?”

Your question cut through the growing tension, almost making the man flinch. “I didn’t know he gave Harrow his name. I had it handled before he–” You were quick to cut him off. “NO!” The yell followed you as you stomped out from your room to where Marc was. Now dressed in casual wear.

“No, you weren’t handling it. None of this…” You gestured to the man. “...is handled. You told me you would keep him out of harm's way but since her death he has been fronting more and more even during times you don’t want and that leads to him being in danger.”

You knew mentioning her was a sore subject but you had to get your point across. No matter how tight your heart squeezed when you watched the man drop his head. “You can’t keep me in the dark here.” You took a step closer. “I can’t protect Steven if I don’t know what is going on. And if I can’t protect Steven then he would get hurt which, in turn, would hurt you.” A long sigh left your mouth.

“And I can’t have you hurt.” Underneath his curls, Marc’s eyes widened ever so slightly before he shook it off. “Look…” He said your name. “...I didn’t want you to worry about Steven getting mixed up in all of this.”

A low growl clawed its way up your throat as anger boiled inside you. Why couldn’t Marc understand? “HE’S ALREADY IN THIS!” You pointed at the man who had trouble holding your piercing gaze. “I don’t understand why you won’t tell him. It’s the only way to keep you both safe.”

“Not telling him will keep him saf–” Once more you cut Marc off with a scoff. “Yeah, you’re sure doing a good job with that, huh? It’s not like Steven juST GOT CHASED BY JACKALS!” Each word brought you closer to the man and each word made Marc’s chest grow tighter and tighter.

“Do you even know the effect all of this has on Steven? He’s been making a life for himself and because you are so stubborn and won’t show yourself, the guy thinks he's losing his mind!” Your finger jammed into his chest as you, unintentionally, delivered the words that would send Marc over the edge.

“It’s going to be all your fault if something happens to him!” It was as if something flipped inside Marc’s head which caused him to start smashing his palms into his head. “NO! NO! NO!” Any anger you once felt washed away as your eyes grew wide.

Quickly, you grabbed the man’s wrists and spoke. Confusion and fear filling your body as you did. “Marc? Marc I’m sor–” His eyes snapped to yours and instantly rolled back. You knew what was happening…you've seen it before.

But not like this…not this close. You were quick to move his body to the couch and step away. Suddenly, Steven’s eyes shot open; his breathing heavy and uneven. “S-Steven?” Your soft voice helped anchor the man to his surroundings as he looked up at you. Nerves filled your chest and out of habit your claws began scratching the scars along your arm.

An action caught by the man in front of you. The scars you sported on display for him to see. “It’s…It’s okay. You’re in my apartment.” The words came out unsure for you didn’t know how to go about the switch first hand. His eyes snapped back and forth from yours to your surroundings.

“I was walking and saw you wandering in the streets. When I realized you were asleep I managed to maneuver you here in order to make sure you were safe till you woke up.” Thankfully, the man’s breathing grew more steady but the lack of response didn’t help your anxiety.

You softly said your name. “Remember?” You asked. “We met at the museum and exchanged numbers a few days ago.” Steven softly nodded. “Yes…Yes, the pretty lady.” He repeated your name a few times before you watched his body deflate.

“Oh bollocks…” Your heart broke at the sound of absolute shame dripping from his words. “You probably think I’ve gone mad.” Steven’s eyes grew glossy as he dropped his head with a weak laugh. “I guess I am, eh?” You quickly shook your head and knelt down. Your hands hesitantly cupping his clasped ones ever so gently.

“No. No, you’re not crazy. You were just sleepwalking.” Steven stayed silent, but you could hear the soft sniffles that left him. Smell the salt forming within his tears as they slid down his cheeks that were hidden behind his dropped head. “Oh, Steven.”

Your voice was soft yet strained as you held back tears for the man. He was in so much pain, so much anguish. Without thinking, you brought his knuckles to your lips. “I’m so sorry this is happening to you.”

The words came out in a whisper, caressing the man’s knuckles as your lips brushed across his skin before making contact. Steven’s breathing came to a halt at the action. Heat rushing to his cheeks over the fact you had just kissed his hands. His hands you held so gently…lovingly…as if he were made of glass.

Realizing what you were doing, you quickly stepped back with a small laugh. “Um…” Your nails went to your inner arm once again. “Would you like any tea to help you calm down? I’m worried you’re still a bit out of it so I don’t want to send you on your way just yet.”

His eyes were so wide…wide with confusion at the question, like he never had someone concern themselves over him. He slowly nodded with a stutter. “Y-Yes…that would be splendid.” After you brewed him a cup, the two of you sat in silence for a while before Steven, eventually, spoke after putting his cup down.

“Why are you so nice to me?” His voice was so quiet you might have missed it if you didn’t have advanced hearing. Your eyes snapped to him with a raised eyebrow as he continued. “I mean…most people would think I was bonkers and left me to wander the streets.”

Slowly, he eyed you from under his hair. “But not you.” You wanted to reach out and grab his hand again, but you opted to latch on to your scared arm. Your head turned down looking at your crossed legs. “I…I like being around you, Steven.”

You slowly said while not meeting his eyes. “I know we’ve only spoken a few times, but I enjoy our chats so much and I’ve wanted to talk to you for so long.” You heard a short gasp and realized what you had said. “What do you mean, Love?” Love. It was a slip of the tongue on his part but you continued past it. Despite the fluttering you felt in your chest.

Ignoring the way your cheeks rose in temperature you choked out a laugh and replied. “I always saw you come out of your building when I started my morning walks.” It wasn’t a lie. You did take morning walks but in the same direction heading to the same location.

“I never had the courage to go and talk to you because you always seemed to be in a rush and didn’t want to get in your way.” It was silent for a few seconds before Steven whispered out. “I felt that way when I saw you in the museum.” Slowly, you looked up at him and noted the pink hue tinting his cheeks.

“As I was making my way back to the gift shop from my break…I saw the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on staring at a sarcophagus.” His hands grew clammy underneath your soft gaze. Eyes wide as you hung on every word he spoke.

“I-It took everything I had to go over and talk to you.” He dropped his eyes and laughed slightly. “When I got home that night I thought I made you up, but I saw you again after the failed date…I was so happy.” The last word came out breathless, causing you to smile. You quietly called his name and when he looked up at you your hand softly cupped his cheek. Your eyes never left his as your thumb slowly stroked his cheek. “I’m so glad I met you.”

Steven released a breath that seemed to carry all the weight he once bore, softening his shoulders as he leaned into your touch. Your long nails creating goosebumps across his body with each stroke, leaving him with shaky breaths.

Unfortunately, the surreal moment came to an end when a harsh gush of wind whipped through your living room. The glimpse of the white robs instantly soured your mood, causing you to drop your hand while clearing your throat.

“Y-You should probably be on your way now.” Steven watched as you stood from the couch to make distance. Your eyes shooting over to the open window as if someone was standing there. “It’s getting pretty late.” Slowly, the man nodded his head in confusion while respecting your request and making his way to your door. With an awkward goodbye, you found yourself in your living room…but this time it was much less warm.

a/n: This chapter was lowkey a bitch to write. I had originally planned on having the reader and Steven kiss but decided that might be a bit to soon even if I wrote it like one of the alters took over for a second to make Steven do it. So I settled just for some Steven fluff. Also, I wanted to show the wolf as a separate character and not just something the reader changes into and has full control over. I've always liked when werewolves are portrayed as being their own being, sharing a mind with other. Like Marc.

tag list: @n1ght5h4d3-24 / @sunipostsstuff / @blackholegladiator / @ajeff855 / @daughterofthequeen / @faefanatic / @dropdeadbec / @sgt-morgan / @milk-bulb / @dev-angeline / @griffinkid2187 / @mxltifxnd0m / @badbishsblog / @local-mr-frog / @khaleesihavilliard / @rmoonstoner / @thewinterv / @oscarissac2099

#steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant imagine #marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector imagine #jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley imagine #moon knight #moon knight x reader #moon knight imagine

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extraclevermongoose · 4 months

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Tender Prey

Orin the Red x Tav/Reader

TW: period sex, blood drinking, Orin being... Orin

With everything else happening, it was easy to forget about your period. When you take a morning off to recoup from particularly bad cramps, your plans are derailed by an unexpected visitor who is a little too interested in your current affliction.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52868542

You were never one to sleep in, even on mornings where all you wanted to do was laze in the grass like a cat. You preferred to rise with the sun, if for no other reason, then for the sake of a moment to yourself before the rest of camp stirred. It was a little more difficult since you had settled into actual rooms at Elfsong, but you quickly managed to sniff out a quiet spot on the roof to greet the dawn with coffees and teas.

Today, though, the cramps had won. You were mildly panicked when you woke in the night to a bloody clot in your underwear and a thunderous ache clenching at your pelvis, until it clicked in your head. You cleaned yourself up, secured a thick rag in your fresh undergarments, and climbed back into bed to wallow in misery. It was your first period since the tadpole insertion, and the stress of, well, everything had screwed up your cycle so badly that your uterus apparently felt the need to put in some extra oomph to compensate.

It was Shadowheart who found you curled in your bed long after everybody else had dressed and ambled downstairs to seek breakfast in the tavern. She initially grumbled at you for not alerting her that you needed healing, but once you corrected her, her furrowed brow softened with sympathy.

“Well,” she sighed, “I suppose you have earned a rest, since you felled an undead king the other day and all.” She raised a stern finger, but spoke with a playful tone. “But just this once!” You laughed, and she slipped out with a gentle smile, promising to tell the others to give you the morning.

And so, off went your friends. Some went to follow up on a lead for the location of an unfortunate clown’s pelvis while the rest went on various errands of their own agenda. Before he left to once more try and negotiate his way into the forbidden book stash in Sorcerous Sundries, Gale charmed a long sock of dry corn kernels to act as a makeshift heating pad. They wouldn’t be gone for more than a few hours, but it brought the promise of a morning to yourself to move at your own pace. Within a half hour, you drifted back off with the sock draped over your lower belly and the dream of a proper hot bath.

You woke sprawled on your back, feeling heavy and sluggish. To your dismay, the heat in the sock had almost entirely diminished and what had originally been a relief now felt cumbersome – less like a sock of corn and more like a tepid dead eel plopped over your midriff. Frowning, you reached to push off the offensive sock and your hands collided with something fleshy and clammy. You quickly blinked yourself awake, and were greeted with a familiar pair of solid gray eyes less than a foot above your face. You startled with a loud gasp, and the woman straddling your waist split her lips into a smile suiting a jackal.

“The underling is a sound sleeper,” she cooed and slowly shook her head. “Unwise. Very unwise these days.”

You bucked your hips and tried to find purchase to push yourself up and knock her away, but she simply dropped deadweight onto your midriff, sending a jolt of pain up your belly and back. You yelped and flinched, and in a blink, she gripped your wrists in each hand to pin your arms to the bed.

She tutted. “Oh, but you are unwise, I see.”

“What the fuck are you doing here, Orin?” you spat. “I already agreed to help you. You swore immunity until we complete our end of the bargain!”

Orin released your wrists, and as you tensed your limbs to try again to buck her from you, she slid her dagger from her lower back. You froze, wide eyed.

“Oh, oh! The little lamb quakes in its sheets,” Orin mocked with an exaggerated brow. She cackled. “If I wanted to drip-drain you empty, little fool, you would be rotting in a gutter by now.” She ran a delicate finger along the edge of the blade. “You will not perish at my hand this morning. Lord Bhaal demands a grander masterpiece – your supple meat to become an exquisite effigy worthy of his honor. No, we must wait until our blades dance before the eyes of His faithful.”

Orin slid the dagger under the hem of your sleep shirt and pulled upward. The fabric pulled taut against your back, and with a chorus of tiny pops and snags, the steel ripped through and the halves of the shirt furled helplessly across your breaths.

“There are many hungry mouths begging to taste your drip-dripping from our sacred floors,” said Orin. “To waste your sticky-sweet obliteration in a common bed-slaughter where it would go unwitnessed by those who have craved such for a lick of your sinews…” She gasped, shuddering, and ground herself against your abdomen, a surge of cramping pain howling through your womb. “An affront,” she sighed.

You hissed in pain. “Then why –”

“I merely wished to observe the underling’s progress,” she interrupted, “and was snagged and snarled by a most curious perfume.” She wedged her face into your neck, burrowing her nose into you. "You are wreathed in crimson succulence,” she murmured and inhaled against you deeply, hungrily. “And yet, not that of the lordling." She licked a slow, breathy strip from your collarbone to your ear – hot, metallic. The hand without a dagger traced between your legs, and warmth pooled in your belly, curling through the haze of muscle ache.

“I am bewitched on your humors, lamb,” she whispered in your ear, making you shudder. “Now I must drink and drink and drink.”

She dragged the tip of her nose down your sternum. The hairs spanning your forearms and up your spine bristled at the ghostly touch, the softness of a shrike’s feather before impalement.

"Give yourself to me,” she hissed, “I will render your bed our loving abattoir.”

She bit down into your breast. Your pained cry urged her sharp incisors deeper into your soft flesh. Warmth bubbled to the surface, and a fat blood droplet rolled from a puncture down the curve of your ribs like an itching teardrop. Orin lapped across the wounds, eyes locked on yours, and she rose with her broad tongue slack from her lips, streaked in watery red. She curled it back into her mouth and her head tilted back slowly. She sighed dreamily, and swooped at your chest with bared teeth.

You yelped when her teeth dug into your tender, swelling skin, drawing streams of red that leaked under the corner of her lips. She sucked your bleeding breast into her mouth and released it with a wet pop. She lapped at the wounds as quickly as the blood replenished, smearing blunt ruddy streaks of saliva to crust across you. The curling rasp of her tongue numbed the pain in sweet, fleeting reprieves, only for the burn to throb again as soon as it passed.

The intact counterpart, she gently rolled and massaged between her fingers. Long nails teased the flesh but never pinched so tight as to penetrate. The nipple in her caress stiffened and flushed from the stimulation just as the one framed by her black lips seared and seethed in needly throbs. Your chest bloomed in arousal and agony, the two intertwining their cruel fingers to dig into your core as if they were her blade.

You rolled your hips underneath her, the pain of cramps long overshadowed. She straightened her back and grinned down at you, marbled skin flecked with splatters of drying blood and black lips ringed with rusty layers, thicker patches caught in the corners and rimming her teeth along the gums.

“Sweet plaything,” she crooned. “Patience, patience.”

She slid backward down your thigh, and with a sudden flick, sliced open the middle seam of your sleeping pants. She dropped her dagger to her side, and ripped the tear in your pants completely open. Another rip, and the snug press of your underwear and rag vanished. You wanted to protest the waste of so much clothing, but your body instead chose to open your legs, breath heavy and your pulse that of a hunted rabbit.

When she hooked her arms around your thighs and snaked her tongue into your cunt, you dug your head so firmly into your pillow that the sunbeams through your window blurred like water in your eyes. Orin’s nails dug into your leg muscle, leaving angry little crescents whenever she repositioned a finger. You relished the sting by now – almost wished that she was leaving puncture after puncture across your tender thighs. You wanted her to prick you where she pleased, to draw blood and drink you dizzy.

She curled her tongue inside of you, drawing it out in a luxuriously slow scrape and into her mouth. A whimper shuddered from her throat, and she licked a broad stripe between your labia. You pushed your hips toward her and she gripped you tighter, burrowing into you as deeply as she could. She angled your hips upward and with a pitchy growl, she rooted her face against your cunt in a fervor. Her sharp nose pressed against your clit, and you whined and ground yourself against her. The familiar tightness of a brewing orgasm coiled and pulsed within you, just out of reach.

She yanked her soiled face back, gasping for breath. She stared you down, and your heart fluttered under her glower. You had thought her beautiful the moment you first saw her deep underneath Moonrise, in the way that you would admire a viper and pray it never crossed your path. Strings of saliva, viscous with mucus and thickened blood dripped from her cheeks and snapped between your pussy and her lips. Her nimble tongue darted out to collect the clots and pooled blood in the corners of her mouth. Beautiful was not a worthy word for how she looked in that moment, with your blood painting her sharp chin and cheekbones and her upper lip curled in a snarl over her stained teeth. Orin was the embodiment of the horror nestled at the heart of desire; you trembled with fear under her hand, and yet you yearned to offer yourself as sacrifice to this feral and terrible goddess.

Her breathing steadied, and she descended again, this time wrapping her lips around your clit and sucking harshly. You bucked and whined, your nerves electric. The tip of her tongue flicked at the bud as she sucked, and you bit into your hand to stifle the noises clamoring to escape your chest. The coiling heat of earlier tightened in your belly until you ached. You dug your heels into the mattress. Orin gripped your thighs with possessive fury. She opened her mouth wide, and bit down into your mons pubis, tongue flattening against your clit, and you spilled over the edge, helpless squeaks and moans spilling from your throat, and your hips jerking in little erratic jolts against her mouth.

As you wound down, she lapped broad, thorough stripes to clean up as much spilled blood as she could taste. Orin lowered you back to the bed, her eyes hazier than usual. Without bothering to clean her face, she quietly slid from the bed and attached her dagger back to her clothing.

Orin slowly swiped her finger across her chin, collecting a large drip of clotted blood, and licked it away. “It seems my senses have been righted once more. A worthy sacrificial lamb indeed! You may find me in the temple once you have collected the little tyrant’s Netherstone.” She smiled, all teeth. “I look forward to basking in your brilliant crimson once more.” Before you had a chance to speak, she fiddled with her finger, and disappeared in a smattering of color.

You stared at the spot where Orin had stood seconds before, and blinked blankly, unsure of how to react. So, that was it? You couldn’t say you expected Orin to be the stay-and-cuddle type. Frankly, that sounded more dangerous than… whatever had just happened. You sighed and decided that you probably ought to take a bath and do something with your ruined clothes before your companions walked in.

You stood up, and when you saw the bed, you felt your face drain. In the whirl of everything, you hadn’t considered the bed, and sure enough, the blanket and sheet both looked like you had robbed them from a murder scene. You closed your eyes, and began to mentally prepare a cover story for asking a very uncomfortable Prestidigitation favor.

#bg3 #orin the red #orin/reader #orin x reader #orin the red x reader #bg3 x reader

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kyopmi · 2 years

Text

♡ — unspoken facts

sakusa kiyoomi finds himself wandering into the apartment he can’t wait to move into.

1,343 fluffy, unedited words based on this ask!

kiyoomi knows you're not due to move in until next week, that's what you both agreed on, and he's usually not one to do things on a whim but tonight he's restless and full of thoughts. he thinks about how far you've come since your first meeting almost a year ago, about how nervous he was when he asked you out, about how nervous he was on your first date, about how nervous he was the first time you actually came to watch his match in person (he scored the most points out of everyone that day), about how nervous he was when, last month, he proposed the offer of moving in together. but now he's not nervous anymore. he's excited.

and before he knows it, kiyoomi is putting on his shoes and pulling on a jacket, and he lets his feet lead him to the apartment that the both of you officially own, his hand shoved in the pocket of his jacket tightly gripping his copy of the key. he never wants to let it go, he thinks, never wants to let you go.

as he gets off the elevator and approaches the front door, he's met with muffled sounds he can hear through the front door. confused, he double checks that he has the right floor and the right unit, and his heart drops when he realizes that he does.

all the alarms in his mind are going off as he essentially freezes in place. after all, there never were any instructions on what to do if there's an intruder in your apartment that you hadn't moved into yet. should he just go in? should he call the cops? should he call you?

no, definitely not call you, at least not right now. he doesn't want to possibly wake you up and scare you shitless at 12 am on a thursday.

kiyoomi’s still unsure on what to do, hand hovering above the door handle and teeth chewing on the inside of his cheek. he can hear his heartbeat thumping hard in his ear, something he typically experiences only during grueling practices and matches.

finally, he sucks in a deep breath and steps back from the door, careful to keep quiet in order not to alarm whoever is behind the door. his hand slips back into his pocket to grab his phone and his fingers quickly dial the emergency hotline number and he–

"...sakusa kiyoomi lands an incredible spike! the MSBY Black Jackals takes the third set and officially wins the match!"

hold on — are the intruders... watching his match?

confused is an understatement to what he's feeling. he wonders if it's just a coincidence that they happen to be tuning into one of his matches, or if it's some kind of delusional, stalker fan who's managed to get a hold of his personal information. the sound of the volleyball commentator fades out and kiyoomi listens hard once more. finally, he hears it — a familiar hushed giggle that immediately quells all his worries.

oh, it's definitely one of his fans. in fact, one that he knows quite well.

all his previous anxiety fizzles out like a candle and is replaced with a huff of annoyance as he shoves his phone back in his pocket, and immediately sticks his key in the keyhole and unlocks the door before he makes his way inside.

"what the hell are you doing here?"

you let out something that's between a squawk and a scream when the one and only sakusa kiyoomi all but barges into what would be the living room and growls out his question. the sudden intrusion makes you jump and sends your heart rate into a frenzy.

"kiyoomi!" you yelp, catching your breath, "god - you almost gave me a heart attack!"

your boyfriend doesn't look too amused at your response. "i gave you a heart attack? i thought someone broke in here!" he retorts, "i was going to call the cops on you."

kiyoomi sighs and walks towards your figure, sitting down next to you on the floor. "what are you doing here, y/n?" he asks again, gentler this time and genuinely curious.

you shift to face him but you're not looking in his eyes, choosing instead to take his hand in yours - which he gladly accepts - and instead focus on the way your fingers intertwine together as your heartbeat gradually stabilizes. "i could ask you the same thing, you know," you reply.

kiyoomi doesn't fail to notice the faint smile growing on your lips and he can't help but mirror it on his own. "i guess that's fair," he hums, giving your hand a comforting squeeze. "i, uh, i'm not even sure why i'm here," he continues, voice trailing off and getting quieter, "i mean, it's not that i don't want to be here but i just– couldn't sleep and–"

"it's okay, kiyoomi." you finally look up at him, fondly staring into his deep brown irises. "i know. me, too," you admit, voice just loud enough for him.

while he would usually tense up at the mere thought of receiving attention from another, kiyoomi finds himself uncharacteristically relaxing under your gaze.

the two of you wordlessly agree to let the conversation go, the shared silence between you and kiyoomi saying more than any of you can voice out. it's not long before he's tugging you closer to settle on his lap – another unspoken fact that it's your favorite place in the world.

your back molds into his chest perfectly and he wraps his arms around you, enveloping you in his warmth you never fail to find solace in. the apartment is soundless with the exception of you and kiyoomi’s breathing. there’s not much, but you marvel at the dimly-lit space you’re in. sitting on the floor with no cushion or heating for the both of you, you should be feeling the discomfort and the urge to move away, preferably to your or his current abode where there’s a bed and covers to snuggle under, yet neither of you make any attempt to even shift from your position, much less pull away from one another. you’re surrounded by unopened boxes and no actual assembled furniture, and neither of you have decided on putting what where, but you feel your heart pick up speed again, and it's as if kiyoomi senses it, too.

"what are you thinking of, love?" he murmurs softly into your ear, smiling at the way you shy away from his ticklish breath and leaning down to pepper kisses on the back of your neck, his ministrations slowly but surely easing you into a serenity.

"just excited," you say, sighing dreamily. "in a week, we'll be moved in and this place is going to be, you know, ours."

you feel his arms tighten around you. "ours," he repeats, letting the word roll off his tongue as if he's testing it out. he places another gentle kiss on the top of your head. "i love the sound of that."

there are two more unspoken facts between you and kiyoomi.

one, is that it doesn’t matter that this apartment you’re moving into is perfectly located between your respective workplaces, or that it’s not too big nor is it too small, or it has the perfect view overlooking the cityscape, or it has a cozy kitchen you can’t wait to slow-dance to cheesy love songs in — it’s that you’re moving in with each other and not anyone else.

and two, is the i love you’s weaved into the way your legs are tangled together, the way kiyoomi doesn’t loosen his grip for even a moment, and the way you can soundly fall asleep in his arms, even in the middle of an empty room.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #hq x reader #haikyuu fluff #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu drabbles #sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi fluff #&works

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hjea · 2 years

Text

Going through the tag, it looks like a number of people are really struggling to understand Bram Stoker’s terrible cockney-accent writing style, which is a shame because Tom Bilder the Zookeeper is a real treat. So I’ve gone through and written out his dialogue in plain English as best I can. This isn’t annotated, just my attempt to make the writing a little more accessible for everyone.

Only Tom Bilder and his wife’s words are written out here, please insert the Pall Mall Gazette interviewer’s words as needed.

“Now sir, you can go on and ask me what you want. You’ll excuse me refusing to talk of personal subjects before meals. I give the wolves and jackals and the hyenas in all our section their tea before I begin to ask them questions.”

“Hitting them over the head with a pole is one way; scratching their ears is another, when gentlemen with money want a bit of a show-off to their girls, I don’t so much mind the first—the hitting with a pole before I throw in their dinner; but I wait until they’ve had their sherry and coffee, so to speak, before I try the ear-scratching. Mind you, there a deal of the same nature in us as in those animals. Here’s you coming and asking me questions about my business, and I was so grumpy that it was only because you gave me a half-a-bloomin’-pound I didn’t immediately blow you off before I’d answer. Not even when you sarcastically asked me if you’d ask the zoo’s Superintendent if you could ask me your questions. Didn’t I cheerfully tell you to go to hell?

“And when you said you’d report me for using obscene language, that was the same as hitting me over the head; but the half-a-pound made that all right. I wasn’t going to fight you, so I waited for the food and howled like the wolves, and lions, and tigers do. But, Lord love your heart, now that my wife has stuck a chunk of her tea-cake in me, and rinsed me out with her bloomin’ old teapot, and I’ve lit my pipe, you may scratch my ears for all you’re worth, and you won’t get even a growl out of me. Go on with your questions, I know what you’re getting at, that escaped wolf.”

“All right, governor. This here is about the whole story. That wolf we call Berserker was one of three grey ones that came from Norway to Charles Jamrach, which we bought off of him four years ago. He was a nice well-behaved wolf, that never gave any trouble to speak of. I’m more surprised at him for wanting to get out than any other animal in the place. But, there, you can’t trust wolves any more than women.”

“Don’t you mind him, sir! He’s been minding the animals so long that, bless me, if he isn’t like an old wolf himself. But there’s no harm in him.”

“Well, sir, it was about two hours after feeding yesterday when I first heard the disturbance. I was making up a litter in the monkey-house for a young puma that is ill; but when I heard the yelping and howling I came straight away. There was Berserker tearing around like a mad thing at the bars as if he wanted to get out. There weren’t many people about that day, and close at hand was only one man, a tall, thin chap, with a hook nose and a pointed beard, with a few white hairs running through it. He had a hard, cold look and red eyes, and I took a dislike to him, for it seemed as if it was him that was irritating the animals. He had white leather gloves on his hands, and he pointed out the animals to me and said: ‘Keeper, these wolves seem upset at something.’

‘Maybe it’s you,’ I said, because I didn’t like the airs he gave himself. He didn’t get angry, as I hoped he would, but he smiled a kind of insolent smile, with a mouth full of white, sharp teeth. ‘Oh no, they wouldn’t like me,’ he said.

‘Oh yes they would,’ I said, imitating his tone. ‘They always like a bone or two to clean their teeth with around tea-time, which you could provide.’

Well, it was an odd thing, but when the animals saw us talking they lay down, and when I went over to Berserker he let me stroke his ears the same as ever. Then the man came over, and bless me if he didn’t put his hand in the cage and stroke the old wolf’s ears too!

‘Take care,’ I said. ‘Berserker is quick.’

‘Never mind,’ he said. ‘I’m used to them!’

‘Are you in the business yourself?’ I said, taking off my hat, because a man who trades in wolves, etc., is a good friend to keepers.

‘No,’ he said, ‘not exactly in the business, but I’ve made pets of several.’ And with that he lifted his hat as polite as a lord, and walked away. Old Berserker kept looking after him until he was out of sight, and then he went and lay down in a corner and wouldn’t come out the whole evening. Well last night, as soon as the moon was up, the wolves here all began howling. There was nothing for them to howl at. There wasn’t anyone near, except someone apparently calling a dog somewhere out in the back of the gardens in the Park Road. Once or twice I went out to see if everything was all right, and it was, and then the howling stopped. Just before twelve o’clock I just took a look around before turning in for the night, and, bust me, but when I came opposite to old Berserker’s cage I saw the rails broken and twisted about and the cage empty. And that’s all I know for certain.”

“One of the gardeners was coming home at about that time from an harmony, when he saw a big grey dog coming out through the garden hedges. At least, that’s what he said, but I don’t put much stock in it myself, since he never said a word about it to his wife when he got home, and it was only after the escape of the wolf was made known, and we had been up all night hunting the park for Berserker, that he remembered seeing anything. My own belief was that the harmony had got into his head.”

“Well, sir,” he said, with a suspicious sort of modesty, “I think I can; but I don’t know that you’d be satisfied with the theory.”

“Well then, sir, I account for it this way; it seems to me that the wolf escaped—simply because he wanted to get out.”

“Right you are, sir,” he said briskly. “You’ll excuse me, I know, for teasing you, but the wife here winked at me, like she was telling me to go for it.”

“My opinion is this: the wolf is hiding out somewhere. The gardener who didn’t remember said he was galloping northward faster than a horse could go; but I don’t believe him, for, you see, wolves don’t gallop anymore than dogs do, not being built for it. Wolves are fine things in a storybook, and I daresay when they’re in packs and attacking something that’s more afraid than they are they can make a devil of a noise and chop it up, whatever it is. But, Lord bless you, in real life a wolf is only a low creature, not half as clever or as bold as a good dog; and not with nearly as much fight in it. This one hasn’t been used to fighting or even providing for himself, and more than likely he’s somewhere around the Park, hiding and shivering, and if he thinks at all, wondering where he’s going to get his breakfast from; or maybe he’s run down some area and is in a coal-cellar. My eye, won’t some cook get a fright when she sees his green eyes shining at her out of the dark! If he can’t get food he’s bound to look for it, and maybe he’ll find a butcher’s shop in time. If he doesn’t, and some nursemaid goes walking off with a soldier, and leaving the infant in the perambulator—well, then I shouldn’t be surprised if the census has one less baby. That’s all.”

“God bless me!” he said. “If there isn’t old Berserker coming back by himself!”

“There, I knew the poor old chap would get into some kind of trouble; didn’t I say it all along? Here’s his head all cut and full of broken glass. He’s been getting over some bloomin’ wall or something. It’s a shame that people are allowed to top their walls with broken bottles. This here is what comes of it. Come along, Berserker.”

#dracula daily #writing out accents is the worsttttt and #lbh #pretty offensive most of the time #mine

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liviavanrouge · 2 months

Text

Stepmom to the Rescue

Livia: *Yowls in anger, kicking her feet as Jackal lifted her off the ground* GET OFF ME!!

Jackal: This has been fun, but it's time to die alongside this god forsaken hidden kingdom!

Livia: *Flaps her burned wings, trying to take off* NO!!

???: *Slaps Jackal, sending him flying*

Lilith: *Catches Livia, glaring at the man*

Livia: Mama Lilith...

Lilith: Sorry for being late, Livy, I had to make sense of why you were upset about me attempting to take the people here out

Livia: *Smiles as she sets her down* It's okay

Jackal: NOT YOU! How many bastards do I have to fight!

Lilith: I'm really the other one that matters, you're hurting my stepdaughter and this place that she's gotten attached to so quickly, and now I am going to fuck you!

Jackal: *Steps back silently*

~~~~

Harley: *Giggles quietly, yelping when Hark punched her*

Hark: That was surprising

~~~~

Livia: It's fuck you up, Mama Lilith

Lilith: Then what did I say, dear?

Jackal: *Tackles Lilith, slamming her into the wall*

Lilith: *Grins* Oh you've got GUTS attacking ME!!

Livia: Mama Lilith!!

Lilith: *Dodges Jackal, grinning* Should I turn into a man and make this easier on you!?

Jackal: Bitch!

Lilith: *Smiles, dodging his attacks* Oh my, have I pissed you off well I can't help it, you messed with one of my kids!

Jackal: *Fires a beam, snarling when Lilith dodged* They're not even yours!

Lilith: I mean, yeah! They're not mine but it was touching when they first called me Mama Lilith, I think I'm carrying a recording stone of the moment, wanna see!

Lilith: *Grabs a sword and slices it across Jackal's chest* Little Livy gave you quite the beating, remember?

Jackal: *Pants, glaring at her* I WILL END YOU!

Lilith: I think I'll play with my food for a bit longer before I'm done, I'm in a playful mood right now~

Livia: *Stares up at them then perks up*

Lilith: *Scowls, getting serious and lunges at Jackal, aiming for his chest* Come here, douchebag!

Epel: GET OFF!

Livia: EPS!

Kalim: *Rushes over, Azul behind him*

Azul: We're coming!

Lilith: *Dives down and dodges another beam of mixed darkness*

Livia: *Shrieks in alarm*

Jackal: Hah, At least I got one!

Livia: *Reached upward, her eyes wide*

Lilith: *Grabs Livia, patting her back* Gotcha

Livia: Haha...thanks...

Lilith: *Nods* Hmm

Livia: MAMA LILITH!

Jackal: *Dives towards Lilith scowling*

Livia: *Scowls, her eyes turning green causing the ground to shake*

Lilith: What in satans name...

Livia: STOP HIM!!!

Jackal: *Screams in alarm as tree branches wrapped around him, bees and butterflies swarming his face*

Livia: *Wheezes and coughs up blood, her body trembling*

Lilith: *Looks behind her, glaring at Jackal* Son of a...bitch

Lilith: *Shoots over and spins, slapping Jackal down*

Jackal: *Coughs* Damn it...

Lilith: YOU SLOW POISON MY STEPDAUGHTER THEN PROCEED TO CHALLENGE ME AND LITTLE LIVY!??

Livia: *Glares at him, then coughs*

Lilith: DON'T FORGET!!!

Lilith: *Dives down, setting Livia on the ground and slamming Jackal into the rock grinning down at him* I'm her stepmother, BITCH!

Jackal: *Stares with wide eyes*

Lilith: *Leans close, her grin widening before scowling at him* And you'll see what happens to those who harm my kids...

@anxious-twisted-vampire @yukii0nna @writing-heiress @marrondrawsalot @abyssthing198 @zexal-club

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devilstruly · 2 years

Text

dumb luck

timeskip kuroo tetsuro × fem! reader

summary: overworking never turned out good for anyone, especially not you when you wanted some extra practice with the MSBY after your own

warning (?): sports injury

___________________________________________

You were just on your way out of girl's locker room, with your headphones around your neck, ready to blast some music on your way home. You would've been out already if it weren't for the familiar voices that caught your attention.

'Shoyo-kun nice kill!' - Miya Atsumu

'Great set Atsumu-san!' - Hinata Shoyo

'Hey hey hey! What about me! I made the pass!' - Bokuto Koutaro

What are they doing? Their practice was supposed to be over half an hour ago?

Intrigued, you made your way towards the other gym where the Jackals had their practice. And as expected you were met with the sight of Atsumu, Hinata, Bokuto and Sakusa practicing various tempos, combinations and what not.

Atsumu looked like he was in his element, as usual, it was hard not to admire someone as passionate as him.

Hinata was practically beaming with energy as he got to spike another one of Atsumu's perfect sets.

Bokuto was enthusiastic as usual, easily gliding across the court to race the ball Sakusa had served at him.

You stepped inside the gym, enamored by the atmosphere, causing all four men to look in your direction. 'Y/N-san! What are you still doing here?' Hinata grinned and skipped over to where you stood, wearing a smile that mirrored his own.

'I could ask the same Hinata-kun. Didn't your practice end about thirty minutes ago?'

'Yea but Kuroo-san said he'll stop by. Said he had somethin to tell us I dunno'

'Ah'

You nodded in understanding at Atsumu's words, looking around at all the balls scattered across the floor. Just as you were about to turn around and leave them be, the blonde grinned at you. 'Say Y/N...wanna practice with us for a bit?' You blinked at him, surprised and at the same time thrilled that he invited you to join them.

'I- are you sure? I wouldn't want to intrude or-'

'You're not. We could use another hitter'

'Exactly! The more the merrier!'

Sakusa's and Bokuto's words made you smile and you nodded happily before dropping your bag by the entrance and jogging to the orange court.

Practicing with the MSBY four was one of your favorite activities. The energy these four had and the passion they shared for the same sport you loved was captivating. Even if you wanted to fight the feeling that was pulling you in you'd lose.

Atsumu's sets were like a drug. You could never get enough of hitting those perfectly timed balls he sent your way. The feeling of scoring over and over again cursed through your veins as you leaped in the air for god knows what time since you joined their practice. Another perfect hit.

And then pain. Immense pain.

You fell on your side and cursed under your breath, tears starting to form in the corners of your eyes. Atsumu and Bokuto were immediately at your side while Sakusa inspected your ankle. It hurt so much when he picked it up you had to bite on your lip to stop yourself from crying out in pain. 'Tsk. Can you move it?' You shook your head before cursing again and balling your hands in fists on the floor. Sakusa mumbled something about taking you to the hospital, making Bokuto and Hinata yelp at the thought.

'Y/N?'

You opened your eyes to see Kuroo standing at the entrance of the gym, eyes scanning your form that was half sitting on the floor before he crouched next to Sakusa and took a look at your ankle as well. You adjusted to the pain a little, clearing your mind. 'Can you walk?' Atsumu and Hinata helped you up at Kuroo's words and you tried to lean on your injured foot. 'Y-yeah I think I can...just not...ow...normally' You limped towards the bench and sighed in relief when you were able to sit down properly. 'It's not broken then, that's good' Kuroo gently lifted your leg on the bench and poured some water on Hinata's towel before wrapping it around your ankle.

'You'll need to rest it for the next few days. And no practice for a week'

'What?! No I'm fine! I'm sure it's nothing'

'No. If you don't let it heal properly it can cause some serious damage in the long run. And the VNL is approaching so you can't afford a fracture'

You stared up at him silently before sighing and nodding wordlessly. How are you going to just sit around and do nothing for a week? He smiled knowingly at you and patted your hair for reassurance. 'I'll take you home and make sure you have everything you need until you get better' You opened your mouth to protest but the roosterhead already turned around to speak to the four other athletes in the room.

You zoned out during their conversation, thoughts of not being able to practice and falling out of shape swimming in your head. It wasn't until a set of fingers snapped in front of your face that you remembered there were others present.

'Helloooo? Ya there?'

'Yeah sorry. I zoned out a bit there'

'I think all of you did enough for today, I'll take Y/N home now. Come on patient'

Kuroo chuckled, the action sending a rush of butterflies to your stomach, and you groaned in frustration. He picked up your bag and wrapped a steady arm around your waist to help you walk to his car. The two of you waved at the MSBYs before exiting the arena.

Now that you got the chance to rest your ankle, the pain was making itself known again. But even then you couldn't help but focus on the man on your left.

He was wearing a light blue shirt today, with black pants almost as dark as his hair that was untamed as ever. His matching blazer and tie were disregarded in the back seat of his car, along with his laptop and a bunch of folders and papers scattered across the car floor.

Dazedly, you admired Kuroo's side profile for the 100th time. You memorized the lines of his face perfectly by now but you never missed an opportunity to look at them over and over again. From the way his hair fell over his right eye, to the curve of his nose and the sharpness of his jawline. He was truly one of the most beautiful men you ever laid your eyes on.

You were so distracted by his features you didn't even notice the glance he sent your way before smirking. 'Like what you see ~' You snapped out of it immediately and looked anywhere but him while trying to fight the blush that was making its way onto your face.

'Shut up! I wasn't doing anything!'

'Oh come on I'm asking. You don't think I'm pretty?'

'.....Of course I think you're pretty'

'What was that ~'

'Yes I think you're the prettiest now leave me alone!'

Kuroo laughed, it was light and breezy, warmth radiating from his face. He smiled at you, a genuine smile, and you blushed furiously. He really had a beautiful smile.

He helped you to your apartment and set you on the couch carefully as if you'd break. 'I'm not made of glass you know' You smiled as he fluffed a pillow to put under your foot. 'Mm better safe then sorry' He smiled back at you before taking out his phone.

'What do you want for dinner? Thai? Sushi? Miya's place?'

'Oooh! I haven't ordered from Samu in a while'

'Onigiri Miya it is'

Kuroo chuckled yet again and you turned on the TV while he placed the order. He plopped next to you on the couch a couple of minutes later and unbuttoned his shirt slightly. You glanced at his toned chest before trailing your eyes back to the show you found.

The delivery arrived about twenty minutes later, with a small 'get well soon' note from Osamu (Atsumu told him what happened during their daily catch up). Kuroo and you ate together in your living room, accompanied by your favorite K-drama.

You rambled about the plot of the series and Kuroo took in every word, slowly getting invested himself. You made yourself comfortable in his embrace halfway through the second episode, the warmth radiating from his body making you drowsy. You leaned into him more, nuzzling your head in the crook of his neck. His ears heated up at the action but the smile on his face was gentle as he brushed a stray hair from your face. 'You're comfy' Your words made the man beside you tense up for a moment before he looked down at you with your eyes closed. 'I'm glad' He pressed a kiss to your forehead and you sighed contently. 'Rest up chibi-chan, you've had one hell of a day' You mumbled something incoherent in response before drifting of completely, Kuroo following not too long after.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x you #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo fluff #kuroo x reader #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo tetsurō #kuroo x y/n #kuroo tetsurou x y/n

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hisuianhellion · 4 months

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Show Your Resolve - ARCHIVED RP with @fungalpieceofshit

Content Warning - Violence, Blood, Injury (Trainer and Pokemon).

Snow did not normally fall on the Cobalt Coastlands. It wasn't that chilly here. It wasn't even all that windy. The cloud cover that had formed seemed to swirl perfectly around the moon, showing off its eerie glow that put a spotlight upon the land. One specific location in the Coastlands. A cove. One Rose had mentioned going to upon her blog. One that Mutt knew held the spirit relishing its newfound freedom.

Lucien was on edge. His eyes were focused forward, peering unblinkingly on the path. He had Mutt on his back, the Luxray's training allowing the Jackal to stay comfortable for the long trek as he kept a brisk pace heading down the path. He seemed to have Rose's scent, and he was on it immediately. Barry, on the other hand... seemed tense. He wasn't being playful. He wasn't being sassy or defensive. He looked uncharacteristically more and more scared as they approached. Like he was sensing something more and more wrong.

And eventually... they saw the why.

The Zoroark, grinning maniacally. Standing straight, towering over the entire area. Arms outstretched... and showing the blood dripping from its side and cheeks. How it was still alive was incredible, but... it looked black. Corrupted. Vile in a way that wouldn't normally be seen from a living being's body. Rose's phone was thrown off to the side and Todd was cowering off to the side. He took note of Mutt, and yipped in desperate relief.

Which caused a snap of the Zoroark's head. An audible snap, cracked back to look at Mutt directly, which made Barry shudder and back up faintly in terror as Lucien snarled.

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

The lack of Pokémon the closer they got- no Aipom, no Glameow, no Mothim, nothing- was almost more unsettling than the unnatural chill. Almost. The cold and snow confirmed Mutt's suspicions the closer they got, threatening to cut all the way through his clothes. He was reminded of one brutal winter back home, one where folks he'd been roughing with had failed to wake up when the sun went down.

One could only hope the being responsible didn't choose to really let it plummet.

There was no hope of being discreet once Todd saw them, crying out in relief at seeing familiar faces. So he called back. "Todd! Zoroark!!" He gently patted at Lucien's side. Thank you, buddy. I can take it from here. And off he slid, feet hitting the cold wet ground with barely a reaction from him. Necks weren't supposed to twist like that.

He still didn't know what would convince this spirit to release his friend. But he would have to try.

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

Todd mewled, standing up from their curled up position to try and run over. But the shadow underneath of them reached up to grasp at his form with red wisps, dragging him back and pinning him down to the ground with a strangled yelp. Ghost type moves weren't supposed to affect him, how was--

The Zoroark's body twisted in turn to match the neck before lunging forward, jaws agape. A guttural roar, as deep as any Alpha's, shook the entire cove as their claws immediately shimmered with a sickly red energy. It wasn't normal Ghost typing. It almost seemed Dark. Or even worse, something that transcended types entirely.

Lucien did not care. He reacted quickly. He reacted decisively. He knew this was Rose, but there was nothing stopping this from becoming a problem. So right in front of her friend stepped the Luxray, his fangs flaring with darkness of their own. Crunch.

And it landed. Audibly. Sickeningly. The crack was heard throughout the cove just as the roar had, and even Lucien winced at it, letting go. He hadn't intended to--

"SYL--" Barry had noticed it right before it could happen. It was a feint. Meant to exploit the bond they had. Evil. Because the shadows nearly came right up to grasp onto the second-guessing Luxray. But blessedly... there was a Sylveon to yank him out of the way, panting in a mixture of anger and terror while black blood dribbled from the newly wounded Zoroark's claw.

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

These weren't moves. They had no typing. This was the Zoroark acting of their own power, their own rage.

He'd been meaning to dodge before Lucien decided to fall for the feint, and Barry yanked him back. Good job, Barry. If they could avoid being caught, they could avoid getting hurt- and hopefully hurting Rose any further.

Mutt stood his ground. "I'm not here to fight you. I'm just here to get Rose and Todd back."

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

The moment he said this... there was a Zoroark in his face, grin creasing upwards in a horrifying cheshire stare. The fangs curled upwards in a way that warped the very conception of how skin was supposed to stretch, and opened its mouth. Without using its jaws... it spoke.

"No. They belong to me."

Fangs met with cloth, fur and skin. Jaws large enough to cover an entire shoulder, clamped right down and gripping hard enough to potentially even reach bone. But there was a moment of shock. Just enough for Mutt to react before lasting damage could've been done, their bite... losing its strength.

They didn't QUITE expect to be biting into a walking, breathing amalgamation of mold. It was enough to stun someone who, for the first time in ages, could actually have genuine sensation. And this one was vile.

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

In that moment, Zoroark learned something only a few had any reason to know.

He was mostly mold. Vile, death-tasting stuff, the kind of thing you immediately wanted to rinse out of your mouth with the strongest alcohol you could find. Sure, he let out a YELP of pain and staggered a bit. His eyes glazed in a way that spoke of seeing stars dance across your vision.

Then experience fighting creatures so much bigger and more revolting than he ever could be kicked in. He gripped at fur and skin- one hand on the shoulder, one in the fur on Zororark's chest- and a leg in just the right spot. And he threw them down. Hard. He might not knock the wind out of the being but they would be Down, and off their feet, and he could stay on top and prevent them from hurting anyone else.

He had kinda warned Rose some of this would hurt.

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

Hurt it did. There was a much more genuine strangle of a yelp as they collided from the ground, snarling out with harsh waves of power. How DARE this pathetic creature?! It coughed, spit out some of the blood and let its eyes immediately flare for a moment longer as they tried to squirm. They weren't a physically adept fighter... but there was something they had that the Jackal didn't.

Malicious intent.

The grin began to extend once more, and the wisps upon its body flared brightly with a bitter cold that violently began to whip around Mutt's body. And this time, it was Lucien's turn to save someone, tackling Mutt off of the fox. And thus becoming the new target.

Energy whipped around the Luxray, curling around and lapping at his body. Sores began opening bit by bit along his flesh, and by the time he landed back on the ground from the momentum in front of Mutt? The large cat was now violently shuddering. Blood dripped from sores all along his body, and there was something very wrong... frost was nipping at his body, and his breathing was haggard and weaker. That attack... was cold. Both in its afflictions and its intent. And Lucien was not doing very well in such a state.

The Zoroark's legs straightened up, feet planted... and they simply willed themself upright, an uncanny curve upwards to hunch forward, roaring out harshly. Right as Barry slammed a beam of dazzling energy into the less injured side of the Zoroark's body, shuddering with tears flowing down his face. Barking out some rather choice sounds, it seemed like he was reaching his limit of patience, and fear was bleeding further and further into anger.

... when did that stone get here...? Right beside Mutt, knocked loose from his pack after Lucien's impact... what was that? An orb of sorts? It... felt warm to be beside it...

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

Mutt had zero chance to say anything before Lucien tackled him to safety. He barely let out a "NO-" before realizing his lungs were devoid of air and going into a coughing fit. And that's when he felt it. The warmth. The nudge against the smooth white stone that had fallen out on impact and which he now looked at, stupefied, as Barry began to choose violence.

Everything clicked. It felt like several minutes to him but the realization took fractions of a second for everyone around him- Truth had invited itself along. And it was not happy to have its human under duress. Reshiram wanted Rose back, too, they just had the muscle to actually do it... once Mutt got them close enough.

He put a bloodied hand on the stone, mumbling something like an apology at dirtying its surface, and picked it up. He'd get them close enough. Up he got. Up came the stone.

And towards the Zoroark he went once again. "OI."

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

Barry was trying his best to hold his own. He was Rose's strongest. He was Rose's smartest. Her partner alongside Nanami. Someone who truly understood her on a level others couldn't. He loved her. And this monster was taking her from him! He needed to do something! ANYTHING! And all he could do was keep himself alive while Mutt did something! Lucien was struggling to breathe from that bad of an attack, but he was still standing, gritting his fangs to endure the pain.

The stone flared with blue flames in Mutt's hand. It did not hurt. It actively felt comforting to hold, even. And as he dashed forward, Barry took a claw straight to his side. It went deep enough to cause damage. But it didn't go deep enough, the Sylveon glaring up with a bark of anger, ribbons ensnaring the fox's arms. They grabbed. They clung on with their fangs. They pulled to make sure the Zoroark would stay still just long enough. And right before another flare-up could coat the Fairy in malicious anger?

Three spots all on the Zoroark's body flared. Blue flame gripped right on, a strangled SCREECH of agony shouting out from the beings mouth. The side that had been ripped apart. The cheeks. And their mangled hand, all sparking with a furious flame. It clung on like a liquid, dripping off as it ensnared the wounds upon its body.

It began to creep up their body, forcing Barry to let go as Mutt kept the stone close enough for the Legendary Dragon's power to work. What felt like minutes dragged on. What felt like an hour ticked on by. Time didn't feel real, hearing that ear-piercing screech... it was almost like Rose herself was letting it out.

By the time it had rendered the being incapable of moving, hitting its knees and collapsing in a writhing heap, its entire body was engulfed, flaming harshly enough that the heat radiated. The stone fell from Mutt's hand almost by accident, bouncing and rolling over for a moment to reach the flaming being...

Upon touching her? It revealed Rose's form had been restored... mostly.

The mask was still upon her face. Her side, with a visible tear in her uniform, was no longer bleeding. It had been cauterized, sealed by the fire to keep her from losing too much blood once the transformation had been halted. But it would need emergency medical attention immediately. Her hand wasn't nearly as badly damaged as once expected, but... there was still a visible bite mark upon it from Lucien's attack.

Todd was right beside her. He heard that screech. And he knew. He knew something had happened. Without anyone expecting it, he was right beside her. He was barking, yipping, squeaking out as many little sounds as he could, tears streaming down his face as he tried to pry the mask off. She was visibly breathing, if barely, curled up as she was, but clearly not awake.

The mask would not move. Todd bit the nose to try and pull it off. It didn't move. Barry grasped with his ribbons. It refused to leave her skin.

They had Rose back now, but... what came next...?

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

Now, they picked up the pieces. They did damage control.

It was probably futile, but upon realizing the stone had fallen from his hand almost a whole minute ago(?), Mutt tried to help Todd remove the mask. No dice. It was stuck.

His attention promptly went to getting her back to camp, where the Medcorps were waiting, so that he could treat injuries on himself and the 'mons before making their way back. With a gentle click of a button, off she went, teleported by her Arcphone. Good. That's one thing done. He then retrieved the stone where it had fallen on the ground. Still a bit warm.

Now he had two injured Pokemon, a wounded shoulder, and if he stuck around long enough, the local populations would start trickling back in with the threat gone. Pokemon first.

It took multiple Potions to get Lucien to stop bleeding and get his shivering down. Mutt gently held his big kitty head in his lap, praising him for being so brave, before recalling him to his ball. Barry got much the same treatment- even if his wounds weren't as severe, he was bleeding and he was scared. Even gremlins need comfort sometimes.

Then he used one Potion on himself. Just enough to stop the bleeding. He was losing strength in that arm with the pain finally kicking in properly.

He rose his good arm to gesture Todd over, and gently embraced him. "It's okay. It's over. We're gonna be okay. Let's go home."

#blood cw #injury cw #pokemon injury #violence cw #malformed malice #rosy recountings #pokemon legends arceus #pokemon roleplay #pokemon rp

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daveyfvckingjacobs · 10 months

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I have other things to write but I’ve been in a car mood and need serotonin so *drops this at your feet like a cat with a mouse and runs*

—

“You sure about this?” Morris was regarding the steering wheel in front of Oscar like it might bite him, toying with a seatbelt he was yet to fasten.

Oscar glanced sideways and nodded easily. His eyes glinted with an uncharacteristic mischief as it shrugged. “Sure I am. When ain’t I?”

Otto, sat up in the boot with his head propped on the back seats, rolled his eyes. “That’s the problem,”

“This was your idea, so shut the fuck up,”

“I’m just saying!” Otto raised his hands in protest, shook his head and leaned further over the seats to point at the ignition. “Start the damn car,”

The damn car in question was - to put it bluntly - a piece of crap. When Oscar turned the key it only barely spluttered to life, amid a lot of coughing and rattling from places that probably shouldn’t have been coughing or rattling. It sat rumbling unhappily underneath them as Oscar glanced at Otto again.

“You’re the one Weis taught to do this,” he said. “What’s next, genius?

“Why am I back here if I’m meant to be teaching you?”

“Cause someone-,” Oscar shoved the side of Morris’ head. “-wanted a seatbelt,”

“Someone doesn’t wanna fucking die when you hit a pole,” Morris grumbled, swatting at his brothers hand. He wiggled the gear stick uncertainly. “It ain’t moving,”

Otto nodded. “Yeah, it won’t. Oz, do the clutch,”

“The what-?”

“We’re gonna flip this thing,” Otto muttered, before he raised his voice casually. “Inner pedal, then you can do the gear. Then handbrake and accelerate,”

He made it sound relatively simple, but when Oscar did as instructed the car had other plans. The moment the handbrake was let it of jerked forward and made Morris yelp. Oscar just laughed a jackal bark laugh and did it’s best to keep the wheel straight as the Clio trundled forward. The car park tarmac was uneven and pitted, jolting the trio every few yards.

Otto, for his part, whooped. “There you go!” he crowed. “Told you, piece of piss,”

“What now?”

“I don’t know- don’t stall?”

Morris paused in fumbling to click his seatbelt into place. “Wow Otter, you should take up teaching,”

“Don’t be a back seat driver. Listen to the expert,”

“You don’t have a license,” Morris pointed out.

“Neither does the dickhead behind the wheel,” Otto said, before disappearing from view with a thump as Oscar sped up over a particularly deep pothole.

Morris snorted. Next to him, Oscar managed to keep his expression impressively neutral. “Oops,”

“I’m gonna fall out, asshole,”

“So close it,” Oscar shrugged. “How do I go faster?”

“Go to second and fucking floor it,”

“Or just-,” Morris shook his head as he grabbed the overhead handle. “Oh for fuck sake take it easy-,”

“Wuss,” Oscar replied. He kept taking deliberately sharp turns, trying to jostle Otto as much as possible while piling too much speed. The engine whined and strained, tires scraping against the ground and kicking up pebbles.

“When we’re in hospital, I don’t know either of you,” Morris muttered, jaw locked as he gripped the handle. It didn’t do a whole lot to steady him, just battered him against the door but with the speed they were going by now it was worth a shot.

Oscar snapped his teeth teasingly in response, while Otto laughed and yelled every time he was thrown around a little bit more. The adrenaline was crackling as Oscar rolled the window down to let his hand trail out. He was laughing louder than he’d had in a while. Otto’s chest hurt both from the impact against the boot and the way his amusement shook his ribs. Morris’ grip was white knuckled but the way his brother was whooping made up for the jolting fear. It was almost enough to make up for the hell they’d pay when the stolen car was discovered, when the scrapes across its side became apparent, when everything else came crashing back down. Just enough for them to forget about it. For a little while, it could all be left behind with the wind whipping by and the electric tang of petrol.

#this feels bad #but kind of cute so whatever #it’s hard to portray consistent movements #I tried #newsies #newsies the musical #newsies fic #newsies fanfic #the delancey brothers #oscar delancey #morris delancey #otto wiesel #my writing

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tangletail · 1 year

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#jackal yelps #ronnie #toy fox terrier #vroom vroom

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rosterafamilyaskau · 1 month

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"He's my Brother!"

This takes place before Kallysta adopts Infinite, but Trip certainly sees him as her big brother long before that!

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

Infinite wasn't sure what to make of this. All these weak humans, all staring at him. He wanted to scare them with a flick of the wrist. Show them who's boss.

Instead, he had to settle for glaring at them.

The girls skipped alongside him, the red-haired one (Xelia, he was pretty sure. He memorized Trip's name, but the other two were harder to memorize) pulling far ahead from time to time.

The two women had asked the four of them to pick up some things from the grocery. One of them needed to check in with her job, and the other, the one who kept looking at him with that odd LOOK, like she was staring into his soul, and then zoning out in a SUPER WEIRD WAY seemed too absentminded to do it, which is why they'd asked the four of them.

Why HE had to go too beat him.

His wrist was still in the cast. He had mostly recovered otherwise, other than that wound in his side.

They entered the store and made their way to the cereal isle. The four were allowed to pick whatever cereal they wanted.

The girls started bickering under their breath as Infinite browsed the options.

There was a yelp from behind him. He whirled around and saw a pair of older women, with the girls at their feet.

It looked like the foolish things hadn't been looking where they were going.

"S-Sorry, ma'ams, won't do it again," The oldest one, the girl with black hair, mumbled as she grabbed the other two by their arms and started to tug them out of the way.

The two women glared at Trip in particular. Something about that set off warning bells in the jackal's head. Something about these two made him feel unsafe.

That look in their eyes was uncomfortably familiar.

They approached him and gave him that same LOOK. He bared his teeth defensively, a box of sugary cereal for the girls in his hand.

He heard one of them mumble: "filthy animal, what're those ladies thinking... As if one wasn't enough..."

That, followed by a withering glare, for some reason made him feel... so SMALL... he HATED THAT!

But his body didn't obey him. He felt his ears droop and he lowered his gaze to hide his face.

"HEY!"

Infinite's head lifted. He'd never seen that tiny sungazer look so upset.

"That's my BROTHER! Get AWAY from him!"

Brother?

Infinite was NOBODY'S brother! He was about to tell her that, but his mouth didn't obey.

The women turned on the little girl.

"What, did you never learn any respect?"

One whispered to the other: "What do you expect from some random freaks of nature? Marching like they own the place..."

Trip's eyes filled with tears.

She was beginning to whimper when Xelia finally unfroze, followed by the other girl (Zerina? He was pretty sure it was Zerina).

"Leave our cousins alone!"

"We don't appreciate that."

The two women stared at the older girls. At the glare on Xelia's face and the anxious plea to go on Zerina's face.

They finally glared at Infinite and Trip one more time before turning, talking loudly about "entitled bratty freaks."

"Th-Thanks," Trip mumbled, wiping at her eyes.

Zerina wiped her little cousin's eyes, then turned to Infinite. "Are you alright?"

He nodded.

"Let's go, before some other ENTITLED KARENS show up," Xelia asserted, speaking loudly so the two women could hear.

Infinite mutely nodded.

What... was... that...?

#rostera family au #trip the sungazer #sonic au #sonic movie #ask blog #xelia rostera #zerina rostera #fanfic #trip rostera #infinite the jackal #infinite rostera #my writing

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brotherdusk · 2 years

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I saw some people asking for a simplified version of mr bilder’s speech today so I made a quick stab at it! I hope it helps someone :)

"Now, sir, you can go on and ask me what you want. You'll excuse me refusing to talk of professional subjects before meals. I give the wolves and the jackals and the hyenas in all our section their tea before I begin to ask them questions."

"How do you mean, ask them questions?" I queried, wishful to get him into a talkative humour.

"Hitting them over the head with a pole is one way; scratching their ears is another, when rich gentlemen want a bit of a show for the ladies. I don't so much mind the first—the hitting with a pole before I throw in their dinner; but I wait until they've had their sherry and coffee, so to speak, before I try with the ear-scratching. Mind you," he added philosophically, "there's much of the same nature in us as in the animals. You came and asked me questions about my business, and I was so grumpy that if you hadn't given me a half-sovereign I'd have damned you before answering you. Not even when you asked me sarcastically if I'd prefer for the Superintendent to ask me the questions. Without offence, did I tell you to go to hell?"

"You did."

"And when you said you'd report me for using of obscene language, that was hitting me over the head; but the half-sovereign made that all right. I wasn't going to fight, so I waited for the food, and I howled as the wolves, and lions, and tigers do. But, Lord love your heart, now that the old human has stuck a chunk of her tea-cake in me, and rinsed me out with her old teapot, and I've lit my pipe, you may scratch my ears for all you're worth, and won't get even a growl out of me. Drive along with your questions. I know what you're coming at - that escaped wolf."

"Exactly. I want you to give me your view of it. Just tell me how it happened; and when I know the facts I'll get you to say what you consider was the cause of it, and how you think the whole affair will end."

"All right, sir. This is about the whole story. That wolf that we called Berserker was one of three grey ones that came from Norway to Jamrach's, which we bought off him four years ago. He was a nice well-behaved wolf, that never gave any trouble to speak of. I'm more surprised at him wanting to get out than any other animal in the place. But, there, you can't trust wolves any more than women."

"Don't you mind him, sir!" broke in Mrs. Tom, with a cheery laugh. "He's been minding the animals so long that bless him if he ain't like a old wolf himself! But there ain't no harm in him."

"Well, sir, it was about two hours after feeding yesterday when I first heard my disturbance. I was making up a litter in the monkey-house for a young puma which is ill; but when I heard the yelping and howling I went there straight away. There was Berserker tearing like a mad thing at the bars as if he wanted to get out. There weren't many people about that day, and close at hand was only one man, a tall, thin chap, with a hook nose and a pointed beard, with a few white hairs running through it. He had a hard, cold look and red eyes, and I took a sort of dislike to him, for it seemed as if it was him that they were irritated at. He had white kid gloves on his hands, and he pointed out the animals to me and said: 'Keeper, these wolves seem upset at something.'

"'Maybe it's you,' I said, for I did not like the airs he give himself. He didn't get angry, as I hoped he would, but he smiled a kind of insolent smile, with a mouth full of white, sharp teeth. 'Oh no, they wouldn't like me,' he said.

"'Oh yes, they would,' I said, imitating him. 'They always like a bone or two to clean their teeth on about tea-time, of which you have a bagful.'

"Well, it was a odd thing, but when the animals saw us talking they lay down, and when I went over to Berserker he let me stroke his ears same as ever. The man came over, and blessed but if he didn't put in his hand and stroke the old wolf's ears too!

"'Take care,' I said. 'Berserker is quick.'

"'Never mind,' he said. 'I'm used to them!'

"'Are you in the business yourself?' I said, taking off my hat, for a man that trades in wolves, etc, is a good friend to keepers.

"'No,' he said, 'not exactly in the business, but I have made pets of several.' And with that he lifted his hat as polite as a lord, and walked away. Old Berserker kept looking after him until he was out of sight, and then went and lay down in a corner and wouldn't come out the whole evening. Well, last night, as soon as the moon was up, the wolves here all began howling. There wasn't anything for them to howl at. There was no one near, except some one that was evidently calling a dog somewhere out back of the gardens in the Park road. Once or twice I went out to see that all was right, and it was, and then the howling stopped. Just before twelve o'clock I just took a look round before turning in, and, bust me, but when I came opposite to old Berserker's cage I saw the rails broken and twisted about and the cage empty. And that's all I know for certain."

"Did any one else see anything?"

"One of our gardeners was coming home about that time from a harmony, when he saw a big grey dog coming out through the garden hedges. At least, so he says, but I don't give much for it myself, for if he did he never said a word about it to his missus when he got home, and it was only after the escape of the wolf was made known, and we had been up all night hunting the Park for Berserker, that he remembered seeing anything. My own belief was that the harmony had gotten into his head."

"Now, Mr. Bilder, can you account in any way for the escape of the wolf?"

"Well, sir," he said, with a suspicious sort of modesty, "I think I can; but I don't know if you'd be satisfied with the theory."

"Certainly I shall. If a man like you, who knows the animals from experience, can't hazard a good guess at any rate, who is even to try?"

"Well then, sir, I account for it this way; it seems to me that wolf escaped—simply because he wanted to get out."

From the hearty way that both Thomas and his wife laughed at the joke I could see that it had done service before, and that the whole explanation was simply an elaborate sell. I couldn't cope in badinage with the worthy Thomas, but I thought I knew a surer way to his heart, so I said:—

"Now, Mr. Bilder, we'll consider that first half-sovereign worked off, and this brother of his is waiting to be claimed when you've told me what you think will happen."

"Right you are, sir," he said briskly. "You'll excuse me, I know, for teasing you, but the old woman here winked at me, which was as much as telling me to go on."

"Well, I never!" said the old lady.

"My opinion is this: that wolf is hiding, somewhere. The gardener that didn't remember said he was galloping northward faster than a horse could go; but I don't believe him, for, you see, sir, wolves don't gallop any more than dogs do, their not being built that way. Wolves are fine things in a storybook, and I daresay when they get in packs and go chasing something that's more afraid than they are, they can make a devil of a noise and chop it up, whatever it is. But, Lord bless you, in real life a wolf is only a low creature, not half so clever or bold as a good dog; and not half a quarter so much fight in him. This one isn't used to fighting or even to providing for himself, and more likely he's somewhere round the Park hiding and shivering, and, if he thinks at all, wondering where he's going to get his breakfast from; or maybe he's got down some area and is in a coal-cellar. My eye, won't some cook get a shock when she sees his green eyes shining at her out of the dark! If he can't get food he's bound to look for it, and perhaps he may chance to light on a butcher's shop in time. If he doesn't, and some nursemaid goes walking off with a soldier, leaving the infant in the pram—well, then I shouldn't be surprised if the census is one baby the less. That's all."

I was handing him the half-sovereign, when something came bobbing up against the window, and Mr. Bilder's face doubled its natural length with surprise.

"God bless me!" he said. "If it isn't old Berserker come back by himself!"

He went to the door and opened it; a most unnecessary proceeding it seemed to me. I have always thought that a wild animal never looks so well as when some obstacle of pronounced durability is between us; a personal experience has intensified rather than diminished that idea.

After all, however, there is nothing like custom, for neither Bilder nor his wife thought any more of the wolf than I should of a dog. The animal itself was as peaceful and well-behaved as that father of all picture-wolves—Red Riding Hood's quondam friend, whilst moving her confidence in masquerade.

The whole scene was an unutterable mixture of comedy and pathos. The wicked wolf that for half a day had paralysed London and set all the children in the town shivering in their shoes, was there in a sort of penitent mood, and was received and petted like a sort of vulpine prodigal son. Old Bilder examined him all over with most tender solicitude, and when he had finished with his penitent said:—

"There, I knew the poor old chap would get into some kind of trouble; didn't I say it all along? Here's his head all cut and full of broken glass. He's been getting over some damned wall or other. It's a shame that people are allowed to top their walls with broken bottles. This here is what comes of it. Come along, Berserker."

#100% open to corrections btw!! I'm working entirely off my previous experience reading 19th century novels and a couple of google searches #dracula daily #thomas bilder #txt

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kennyswiferay · 11 months

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Idea for a Lo’ak Sully x Reader AU where the Sullys never fled because my brain is flooding rn,

CW - SFW, angst, soulmate sort of thing, misogyny/sexism, original clan, original characters

TITLE - Trade Lines [Lo’ak Sully x Reader]

“The Tsu’ayla are one of the greatest clans, raised alongside Palulukans,” Lonal hummed to her daughter. She danced around her home, the tarp strung up around the base of the tree a gift from her closest friend’s Sky Demon lover. “We are strong, powerful and we are resilient. We started our legend of Palulukan Makto, and we are the legend embodied.” As Lonal finished speaking, near black skin a stark contrast to the blue of her only child, a Palulukan as dark as the unlit forest slinked through the open tarp. Lonal smiled easily as a familiar body followed it.

"Ma Lonal," the Olo'eyktan hummed to his mate. Her smile stretched to a feral grin, the dark woman holding a hand out for her husband. "How is our little txeptsìp?" The Olo'eyktan ran his thumb down the little girl's cheek bone.

"Stubborn, like her father. How is the clan, Ma Jakar?"Lonal answered. She pressed her back into a solid chest, Jakar’s arms snaking around her waist as she sagged. Relief flooded her body that Jakar was with her, no matter what, and not fighting a war he has no part in.

"They are fine, yawne, I promise. Vo’kuri keeps clawing at the entrance so I bought him here to see you." As Jackal spoke, the dark Palulukan from earlier stuck it's head up and yawned at them. Lonal sat near him, curling up in the space between Ra'vi's strong legs as he headbutt her arm gently. He was demanding to see his fkew 'evi, mighty child of his rider. Lonal giggled as she tilted a young Niri'te towards the thanator.

"Your cub and her will love each other greatly, my trusted one," Lonal whispered as Jackal left the tent to announce the birth of the first Daughter of Palulukans, Child of the Ioang. Lonely walked out besides her mate, Vo’kuri and another Palulukan bounding over to them - Gi’atri, Vo’kuri’s mate and mother to Akari.

“Ewya has granted us this blessing, giving us a child to usher us into a unity with others! Praise Ewya, for giving us Y/N!” Lonal yelled, her position as Tsahik giving her the right to interpret Ewya’s will. As the people cheered, hollered and yelped, the Olo’eyktan and Tsahik smiled as they stared lovingly at their daughter.

15 years later,

“Skawng! Screw you!” Y/N yelled. She was chasing her best friend and guard, Raika, through the high tree tops. He’d stolen her blade, and she was determined to get it back. “Raika that’s my mothers!” Raika did nothing but roll his eyes, dangling the knife from his loincloth precariously.

“Then get it, Little Syawn,” Raika taunted. He turned, jumping from a cliff face and his Ikran J’ta shot upwards, collecting him like a prize. Y/N growled, seething.

“I will skin you!” She screamed, catching herself before she went over. She had not yet tamed an Ikran, and did not trust Raika to catch her in his playful mood. Scowling, she turned to an albino Palulukan and a black one with red tainting her muzzle. “Don’t look at me like I’m stupid Vo’kuri, Gi’atri. He stole Mother’s knife.” Gi’atri, being more maternal, headbutt Y/N before bowing, allowing the teenage girl to swing onto her back and turn towards the village. Y/N muttered, listening to Raika laugh callously as he swung J’ta back towards camp and took off. Gi’atri and Vo’kuri followed, keeping the girl company.

“There you are, woman! The others are waiting!” A’laia was the caretaker of the young around the village, be it Na’vi like her son Ra’i or the Palulukan cubs. “The Olo’eyktan requests your presence in the main tent, go. See them. I will care for them. It is urgent.” Nodding slowly, Y/N rushed towards her father and mother’s tent. It was unusually quiet, the flap open and letting a draft in. Y/N was suspicious, her family never left the flap open. No matter the weather. As Y/N stepped inside, her foot fell on something and she shuddered, movements freezing.

“Father? Mother? I am home,” she called. Jakar, a man in his prime, looked up. His eyes were bloodshot, tears staining his face. He had been crying for hours, that much was clear to her. Y/N fell to her knees before him, grasping at his wrists. “Father? What happened? Where is mother?!” Jakar could not, would not answer his only child, his eldest daughter, his little txeptsìp.

“Little txeptsip, your mother… sh-she had an illness, neither our medicinals or Ewya could save her… Snake’s remedies could not save her…” Jakar broke down crying again. Then Y/N noticed the body hidden beneath a blanket, her mother's garments littering the ground around it. Y/N shook her head, denying.

“No. No, mother is fine. She has to be, she said she would weave my clothes and help Ewya find my perfect match a-and,” Y/N couldn’t get her words out, stammering and choking back on her own sobs so as not to lose her control. Jakar reached out to his child, his thumbs just grazing her wrists before Y/N yanked herself away, pushing herself to her knees and spinning to walk out.

“Y/N!” Jakar yelled, scrambling after her, “yawne please, do not!” Y/N ignored the man’s pleas as she reached Vo’kuri. He sensed her mood and lifted her onto his back with ease. "Y/N!"

“Get me out of here, ma txe’lan,” she sobbed. The albino creature hunched his shoulders before launching. He went a familiar route, Lonal having pleaded him to learn it in case her child ever needed to get away from the Tsu’ayla. Y/N made tsaheylu itch Vo’kuri, images flooding her mind of the clan they were fleeing to. Her eyes widened as she realised who it was.

The Omatikaya.

Translations:

shahaylu - bond/neural connection

txe’lan - heart

txeptsip - fire

syawn - blessing

skxawng - moron

fkew 'evi - mighty child

yawne - darling/beloved/loved one

#loak x y/n #avatar loak #avatar twow #Trade Lines #original characters

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waywardstraysau · 1 year

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Hunting Jackals

(A Wayward Tides Story by Mod Nightmare)

Jack Spicer and DT! Hunter form an unlikely friendship, and it begins with trespassing.

You know, of all the things or people Jack expected to come and bother him that Friday night, it certainly wasn’t that sour-looking guy he saw when he first met King. He just... waltzed in through the lab door like he owned the place!

Especially since it was a heavy duty door, and LOCKED.

“Nice place,” he hummed airily, seemingly oblivious to Jack’s annoyance with the sudden intrusion, “I can appreciate some Techno-Gothic decor~”

“Do you just not respect the sanctity of a locked door or something?” the redhead asked, eye twitching as the two made eye contact for the first time. The blonde simply shrugged, a lot more laid back and unbothered than Jack remembered, despite how short the meeting had been. “How the fuck did you even get in here?! The lab is locked down at night, and I’m pretty sure you got the message I had about my bots dishing out the consequences of breaking in here without an emergency!”

“I stole your key-card during dinner~” the blonde cackled as he produced a VERY familiar square of plastic that sent Jack digging through his trench coats MANY pockets. However, just as he looked up to demand the card back (with excessive expletives) the blonde was already right in front of him, offering the plastic square back without him having to request it. “I didn’t really need this to get in anyway. I just figured I might as well impress the self-proclaimed “Evil Boy Genius” who makes the robots around here with a little mischief of my own. Make our meeting a little more interesting that way, ya know?”

“… you came in here with King, we HAVE met before,” Jack replied with the kind of intonation that made the statement sound a bit like a question as he took the card back. The blond blinked twice before tugging at his forelock and scowling.

“Right, I’m still wearing the old “Puppet Boy” look, which, by the way-“ Jack flinched as the shadows of the room streaked across the floor to envelop the stranger, before falling away to show a drastically different appearance, “-SO not me now, it honestly kind of disgusts me how I used to walk around like that. I looked like I belonged in a prep school, ick.”

Jack blinked several times, taking in the new appearance of the shapeshifting stranger, before “You didn’t change your face” slipped out.

“Well, yeah, I’m still technically the same person, just from a different timeline,” the other boy shrugged, waving his hand as he continued, “I guess you can call me Darkstalker if you want, it is my villain name after all”

“Wait, you’re evil?” Jack asked excitedly, because holy FUCK the constant stream of goody-two-shoes heroic types could wear on an evil genius. His visitor smirked with something akin to pride.

“More like “anti-authority”, but same difference,” Darkstalker chuckled, leaning back and catching himself on the table behind him with one hand. A purple monkey tail flicking into view as he drew a circle in the air with his free hand, producing an honest to god WANTED poster. It unfurled and displayed a stylized drawing of the smaller boy, along with a rather impressive bounty. “I’m a bit partial to arson, but general mischief is my favorite pastime overall.”

“YO, that depiction of you is sick,” Jack complimented as he took the poster from the air to get a closer look, “The black flames really make you look badass!”

“O-oh that’s nothing special for me, just a bit of shadowmancy,” Darkstalker stuttered a bit, before summoning a small flicker of black flames, edged by a glorious gothic purple.

“Sooo cool!” Jack pumped excitedly, reaching out to touch the obsidian fire, only for Darkstalker to immediately snuffed it out.

“Ack! Hooker rules!” Darkstalker yelped, snapping his hand to his chest.

“”No kissing on the mouth?”” Jack snickered, making the other boy blush a deep red and shake his hand dismissively.

“No, no!” he squeaked, looking flustered before correcting and composing himself. “STRIPPER rules! I meant to say stripper!”

“Ahh, “Look, don’t touch”, gotcha,” Jack chuckled, holding a hand out, “You’re my kind of crazy, dude. You need a hand with any scheming, I’m your guy”

Darkstalker seemed surprised by the offer, as if he hadn’t really expected this kind of outcome from the encounter. Instead, he shook his head, and accepted the extended hand as a mischievous smirk spread across his face.

“I’ll be sure to take you up on that offer, friend”

…………….

It turned out Jack shared a lot of classes with Darkstalker, and that’s where he learned the guys proper name was “Hunter”. When questioned, he simply replied that it was fine to refer to him a such when they were alone, but if his doppelgänger was around, Darkstalker would need to be used to avoid confusion.

The idea made sense to Jack, so he went with it.

Following their discussion was the fastest week Jack ever had attending the school. Hunter was a goddamn delight to sit next to, fiddling with different types of magic whenever a lecture or class activity got particularly boring. The evil boy genius was exposed to some very interesting spells during these times, including one that could make semi-conscious minions out of purple goop that the violette had smuggled into class the previous day. In their exchanged notes, Hunter explained that these minions were called “Abominations” but while they were useful for some aspects of combat and petty work, synthesizing good quality “goo” took up a lot of valuable time. This severely limited the amount of practice he could get in and left him relying on other forms of magic.

It was conversations like these that found Jack in the school’s kitchen for the first time in- well, ever,- during the middle of the day.

“So if I could manage to synthesize enough of this “Abomination Goo” you could make me a mindless slime slave?” the redhead mused, stroking his chin as he held the vial of purple slime up to the light. He also dodged a mixing bowl that had been thrown by one of the more violent cooks in the kitchen.

“Well, I don’t know if I’m skilled enough to make a more permanent one, seeing as my specialties are in Oracle and Illusions, not Abominations. I could probably manage something that might last a few days at a time with my current skill level. I’d have to re-stabilize it after a while though,” the violette mused. He snatched one of the knives thrown near his head and using it to dice up some chives, quickly going back to the stove once that task had been finished. He seemed a little lost in thought. “What’s with the desire for a goo slave anyway? Your robots are way more efficient.”

“Umm, what evil genius WOULDN’T want a purple goo slave to do their bidding?” the redhead argued back, making the violette chuckle as he pulled down a tray and filled three bowls with noodles and broth. “Awful hungry today, are we?”

“Oh, no, Edric is gonna be joining us for lunch,” Hunter hummed, drawing a circle in the air to make the dishes wash themselves while he garnished the warm bowls with chives, before freezing up a bit as a thought occurred to him. “You’d be okay with that, right? Buddah, I totally forgot to ask-“

“It’s fine, Hunter,” Jack chuckled, amused by the way that even the violette’s studded ears turned crimson when he was embarrassed, “Though, I wouldn’t be opposed to a pudding cup as compensation-“

“You drive a hard bargain, Spicer,” Hunter chuckled, drawing another circle in the air. Jack was offered a rather fancy looking chocolate pudding in a wine glass, topped with whipped cream and two pieces of dark chocolate stabbed into the side. “I tend to make fancy desserts from scratch when I can’t sleep, anyway. The community fridge is chock full of those from last night.”

“I WAS WONDERING WHERE THOSE CAME FROM!”

………….

Sunday came around, and it found Hunter stretched out over a rather uncomfortable looking armchair playing a Switch while Jack worked on his latest project. The violette may have looked completely enraptured by his game, but the constant stream of chatter between the two teens proved otherwise.

“Man everyone in your world just sounds like an asshole. Who the fuck drags someone off the back of their ship for three miles in frozen waters just because they find you “annoying!?”” Hunter asked, purple tail tip twitching in a very well masked fury. “Buddha’s sake, some heroes those fucks are. Even I had better sense than that when transporting the “enemy”, I just tied them up and secured them somewhere!”

“Apparently being associated monks absolves them of “minor transgressions”,” Jack shrugged, flicking his googles down and activating a blowtorch.

“You could have DIED from that stunt though!?” Hunter shouted over the noise, but Jack simply shrugged again. “I’m surprised you never stabbed one of those guys, just out of self defense, damn.”

“I mean, I wanted knife throwing lessons as a kid, but mom decided figure skating would be more useful,” Jack replied, flicking the blowtorch back off, setting it aside and picking up a socket wrench in its place. “Turned her juicer into a robot for that one.”

“Pfft, WOW, your mom doesn’t know you at all,” Hunter chuckled, flipping over onto his stomach, lowered the switch and crossed his arms over the side of the chair. “Though, if you’re still up for learning knife throwing, my dad did give me a few lessons, I could probably teach you a little bit on the subject.”

“Why did your dad teach you how to throw knifes???” Jack questioned, catching the violette’s gaze.

“He said it was a valuable life skill. He’s taught me a lot of life skills like that actually, I could probably make it out in the woods for a few months if I really wanted to,” Hunter mused, drawing another spell circle and causing his Switch to vanish, before flicking a knife out of his sleeve, “Like how to make comfortable and incognito sheathes for extra weaponry, for in his words, “You’ll never know when you’ll need to stab a bitch”.”

“Can’t you just magic those out of thin air?” Jack questioned, to which Hunter just giggled, a bit like a child.

“Sure, but that’s a lot less fun, and there are probably artifacts out there that can drain magic,” he hummed, tossing the knife into the air and catching it by the tip of the blade, “Better safe than sorry, yeah?”

“Wait, then what was with that shit in the kitchen yesterday?” Jack questioned, to which the violette blushed, pointed ears turning red all the way to the tip.

“Um… I was showing off?” He muttered, flipping the knife back to the hilt side, using the blades reflection to avoid eye contact, “I don’t know how to make friends, so I tend to try and impress people I want to associate with whenever I can, I suppose.”

“… did you do that kind of thing with Edric?” the redhead questioned, setting aside his wrench. The pleasant green haired witch being Hunters only friend he spoke of.

The voilette just turned a darker shade of red.

“No…. Edric actually caught my attention with his knowledge on wild magic. I was always into the subject, and I caught him with one of the books banned by the Emperor’s Coven on my first day of school,” Hunter explained, looking a little wistful, “We’re kind of just a pair of lonely people who happened to share a lot of interests, so we got close really fast…”

Jack took in the look on the violettes face, something wistful and fond. It was something he’d only seen in those Hallmark movies he’d watch when he was feeling extra lonely when he was younger.

He knew that face. Knew it well, despite never having seen it directed his way.

“… do you like him?”

“No!” the violette hissed angrily, his calm demeanor burned up in an instant. He glared at the redhead with a snarl that displayed the gap between his rather sharp teeth. Jack took a step back with a flinch, the aggression something he had been unfamiliar with when it came to the other boy until then. Despite his diminutive size, he was terrifying when angered. “I’m not gay. Don’t you EVER imply such a thing of me again-!”

“Sorry! Didn’t know you were homophobic!” Jack squeaked, cursing the voice cracks that never fucked off.

The statement seemed to knock all the air out of the smaller male, and he immediately relaxed once more, looking ashamed.

“No. Not homophobic. Luz is Bi, and has a girlfriend to boot, I could never hate my little sister for that,” he clarified, looking a little downtrodden. “I just… wasn’t raised in the best environment when it came to someone’s orientation. Or for anything, really, but that’s not my point”

“So accusations of being gay didn’t go over well, then?” Jack asked quietly, a rarity for him.

“”Didn’t go over well” is putting it mildly,” Hunter sighed, popping the button on his hood and pulling the neck of the shirt underneath down, displaying a rather nasty looking, jagged scar running from the side of his neck. It traced down his collar and over the side of his chest, the wound had just barely missing the carotid artery. It had healed completely at that point, but it was newer than the one on his cheek, perhaps only a few years old. “My…. Guardian, you could call him, the one before my dad took me in, did not react well when I looked at a boy my age “wrong” during one of those castle galas we had. After that, let’s just say that if I was gay at some point, and I never was, I had the homosexuality beaten out of me several times over.”

“… Hunter, your orientation can’t-“

“Yes the fuck it can,” the violette hissed, trembling a bit as he sat upright in the chair, one hand clutching the fabric of his shirt over the scar, the other digging into the armrest with sharp claws. “It can and it has. I don’t have a thing for Edric, end of story”

“Okay,” Jack simply replied, putting his hands down and moving back to the work table, pulling his current project back in front of him. “Consider the book shut”

“…thank you”

The silence that came after that wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but there was still some tension in the air. Hunter just curled up and showed his back to the redhead, trembling slightly.

Eventually, after maybe half an hour, he finally spoke again when the genius wasn’t using a loud tool.

“… you won’t… tell anyone about that, right?” he asked, shifting a bit to peek over his shoulder.

“As long as you don’t tell anyone I sleep with a nightlight, we’re even,” Jack replied simply, earning himself a confused stare.

“You sleep with a- oh”

“Yeah.”

A more comfortable silence followed for a bit. Then;

“Thank you, Jack”

“No problem,” he replied, going back to his project with a small smile, “After all, what are friends for?”

#wayward strays au #wayward strays #the owl house #toh hunter #hunter toh #crossover #xiaolin showdown #jack spicer #yes the title is a pun #get over it

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