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sameheart-sameblood · 9 months

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Turn of the Tide

pairing: wojchek x f!reader

summary: wojchek discovers you've disguised yourself as a man to work aboard the demeter and agrees to keep your secret. he begins treating you different than the other crewmates and you confront him about his unfair behavior

words: 2.8k

warnings: angst, mentions of reader's sad background, chest binding, fluff, me not knowing anything about ships and what happens on them

a/n: popping in to say i'm not dead, just depressed and busy lol. truly grateful to this character for pulling me out of my fic slump. im back to once again make a grumpy fictional man way softer than he was ever meant to be hahaha. also guess im obsessed with david dastmalchian now?? didn't have that on my 2023 bingo card tbh

read on ao3!

Sailors believe in many things. A red sunrise can send them into a panic, anticipating the swells and overbearing winds they’re so sure are to come. Red skies at night, however, can make even the most pessimistic crewmate believe there’s fair weather on the way. Captains refuse to set sail on Fridays, sailors place coins under the mast for good fortune and mariners daren’t whistle lest they summon a storm. Many vessels even have a cat aboard, the little creatures seen to bring luck (and sharp teeth to lessen the rat population).

Sailors believe in many things but above all they can agree that a woman on board is bad luck. Which seems silly to you because here you are, a woman who’s been on board The Demeter for many months now. Your presence had not brought ill fortune to the vessel. In fact, the weather had remained pleasant, despite the late summer month’s usual downpours and hurricanes.

Granted none of the crew knew you were a woman. You had disguised yourself as a man, hair cut short and chest bound tightly, but that didn’t change the fact of your sex. A life of adventure on the seas had always called to you but there was no possibility of you being granted work on a ship. The only woman allowed onboard was the carved wooden figurehead of a mermaid that decorated the bow of a vessel. There was no place for you at sea.

Not one to take no for an answer, you found your own way to get work as a sailor. You had spent time aboard trading ships, learning the ways of the trade and earning the trust of the men you crewed alongside. Your last posting had gone so well that the captain of that ship had recommended you to a friend for your next job.

That friend had turned out to be Captain Eliot of The Demeter. Captain Eliot and his First Mate, Wojchek, had asked you a few questions, all of which you answered confidently. The Captain was a kind man who remarked positively at your experience. The First Mate, however, was standoffish, challenging your every answer. Wojchek frowned slightly as the Captain offered you the posting and as they walked away you heard him mutter, “He’s too scrawny, Captain. He won’t be able to pull his weight.”

Captain Eliot had only chuckled, “I thought the same thing when I hired you. Look how wrong I was. You must learn to give people chances, Mr. Wojchek.”

While you appreciated the Captain’s confidence, you made it your mission to show this Mr. Wojchek just how mistaken he was. And for a time, your life aboard the ship was simple. You performed your duties well, befriended the men, took initiative and came to be seen as one of the more ambitious members of the crew. Even Wojchek had to admit, although never to your face, that your were one of the better sailors who had worked under him.

That good will you had earned was probably the only thing that kept the First Mate from throwing you overboard when he found out who you really were. Your secret was discovered when Wojchek had walked in on you unannounced and had discovered you securing your chest binding. After much fussing, he had threatened to toss you off at the next port.

You had pleaded with him to show some kindness and let you stay. Eventually, Wojchek reluctantly agreed to let you remain aboard but warned that he couldn’t help you if the rest of the crew found the truth about you. You had promised him that if you were discovered, you would never let on that he had been any the wiser.

The two of you came to an uneasy agreement and work continued, albeit now with a strained air between you. The men would often remark how the first mate would give you the hardest tasks. You had to agree with them. It did feel like Wojchek was taking out his frustration on you. After one particularly grueling day where he had assigned you to a back to back deck watch, you knew you had no choice but to confront him.

******

You find him in the tiny room assigned to the First Mate of the ship . It was one of the few luxuries he was given on the boat. Whereas you and the other sailors slept where they could in hammocks tied between posts and amongst the cargo, Wojchek had a tiny room all to himself. He even had a porthole, something he takes great pride in.

You hear him groan as you continuously knock on the door, disrupting his peace. Footsteps approach and the door squeaks open. Wojchek grimaces down at you.

“What is it, sailor?”

“I need to speak with you, sir.”

“I don’t have time. Neither do you. It’s nearly your watch.”

“I’m not due on deck for a good while yet.”

“We can talk later. Be on your way.”

He starts to close the door but you push against it, anger surging through you at his dismissal. You barge into his room, slamming the door behind you. Wojchek’s eyes widen for a moment, caught off guard by your boldness. But a moment later, he’s back to his usual gruff self. He glowers, backing away from you like you carry a disease he’s worried is catching.

“This isn’t appropriate.”

“Why? Because I’m a woman?”

“Keep your voice down!”

“It’s not a dirty word.”

“It is when you are disguised as a man on a ship. I’ve kept your secret and I’ll continue to do so. If any of the others were to find out, though…”

“I’ve been sailing with these men for nearly a year. They’re my friends but they’re not the most observant. I think my secret is safe. Besides, if they found out…” you lead off, shrugging your shoulders.

Wojchek’s face darkens at your blasé attitude. “You think these men are your friends? They would turn on you the second they found out the truth about you.”

“That’s not true,” you retort, “just because you hate me doesn’t mean they would.”

“When did I ever say I hate you?”

“You don’t have to. The way you treat me is proof enough. The others may not have realized I’m a woman but they have started to notice you seem to give me the worst tasks and the most watches. They know you don’t like me. Sooner or later, they’ll really try and figure out why. You might be the one that reveals my secret to them without meaning to.”

“I don’t hate you, I…”

He looks at you. Really looks at you, something he tried not to do very often once he noticed how catching sight of you made his heart skip a beat. His shoulders tense as he stares into your bright, vulnerable eyes, so out of place in a sailor.

“You have no idea what a life at sea does to you.” He anticipates the retort you have ready to throw at him and holds up a silencing hand, imploring you to let him finish. “You’ve been on The Demeter for almost a year. No small feat for anyone, man or woman. You’re a good sailor. One of my best. People like you all start out the same, hungry for adventure. They see a life sailing from place to place as an answer to all their problems. And for a time, they’re happy. But eventually, the work breaks you. It keeps you from your family, from your friends. People on land move on while you’re away for months, even years at a time. ”

Wojchek pauses, all the fight leaving him. “When you come back to port, you look for those who promised they’d always be there for you but one day they don’t come back. The ship’s arrival to land no longer brings hope and the sea can no longer mend the hurt that’s inside you. ” He lowers his gaze, perhaps remembering those whom he’s lost over the years.

“The light leaves the men’s eyes once they realize that their world has shrunk to the size of this ship. They have nowhere else they belong. It’s suffocating. They grow resentful. I don’t want that for you. I don’t want to see the light leave your eyes.”

The whiplash of it all makes your head spin. You’ve been so convinced these last few months that this man hates you. Now he’s speaking to you more than he has this whole year. Not only that, it seems the worry over your wellbeing has cost him sleep. More so than a First Mate is supposed to spend worrying about a subordinate…

The light in your eyes? Honestly, you didn’t know that was something you possessed. Maybe a glint of steely determination but you would never have called it anything akin to hope. Your life had always been hard. Being born a woman made life a constant struggle. Being born a poor one made it near impossible.

Wojchek hasn’t moved, still close enough that you can feel the heat coming off of him in the crisp autumn night air that seeps through the tiny cracks in the ship. His eyes, however, keep jumping between your face and the floor. What he’s said has finally sunk in and along with it, his shame of wearing his heart on his sleeve.

You keep your voice low as not to scare him. Seeing the usual rock of a man so skittish makes you approach your next words with the same precision as someone handling explosives. “I was born in squalor to a family that saw my existence as nothing more than a burden. I spent most of my days wondering where my next meal would come from and if I’d have somewhere to sleep. I learned to deal with my lack of means. The thing I never could get over was the fact that I had no one in my life who cared if I lived or died.”

This is nothing you haven’t thought before but something about saying it aloud takes your breath away. A pressure grows in your chest as you fight the emotion that comes with revealing your own secrets. Wojchek doesn’t make it any easier, his once darting gaze now fixed intently on you. It’s your turn to avoid his dark eyes, staring at your shoes as you continue.

“I was never truly happy until I came on The Demeter. I have food, my own bed, purpose, adventure…friends,” the last word almost doesn’t make it past your throat, now tight with emotion. “I finally feel like I have a home.”

It’s only fair that you tell him the whole of your truth seeing how he’d kept your secret for the last few months. He deserves that much. The tension in the room swirls thick but you aren’t sure if it’s because the First Mate is preparing to send you away or not. You wouldn’t blame him if he did throw you off the ship. With you gone, everything could return to the way it was. It might be better for everyone.

You become lost in your own dark thoughts. Wojchek reaches out a hand, brushing your hair, shorn short and shaggy as part of your disguise, off of your face. You close your eyes at the touch, savoring the feel of his calloused fingers skimming so gently across your skin. All too soon, he’s pulling his hand away, remembering himself.

“The Demeter is also the only home I’ve ever known,” Wojchek admits, “It’s a good ship and she’s been strong and true to me. If you’re sure this is where you want to be then you’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”

You nod your thanks, tears threatening to spill again at the relief of knowing you don’t have to leave. When they begin to roll down your cheeks despite your efforts to keep them hidden, Wojchek tuts softly, “Everything will be alright, kotku.”

You may not know the meaning of the word but you can understand from the tenderness in his eyes that it’s a term of endearment in his native tongue. The realization makes you bold.

“It’s not just the ship or the crew that make The Demeter my home. It’s you.” You force yourself to maintain eye contact with Wojchek, fighting the instinct to look away. The though that he may not return the strength of your feelings sends a shiver of fear through you but you need him to understand how you feel.

Wojchek searches your face for some deceit but finds only raw truth. He takes a step forward mere inches between you now. His hands twitch to reach for you again but he holds himself back. Above all else, Wojchek is a professional. Just because he thinks you want him doesn’t mean he’ll take the risk of abusing the power imbalance between you.

Instead, you take the initiative. “May I kiss you, Mr. Wojchek?” It comes out as nothing more than a whisper but he nods. You lean in, teetering on your toes, never realizing how tall he actually was until now. A particularly strong wave hits the ship and you lose your balance. Before you can lose your footing, he has you in his arms.

Wojchek hikes you up, bringing your face level to his. Years of working the ship have made him strong as an ox and he thanks the gods that he finally has good use for the muscles that hide beneath his tunic.

You press your lips to his and it takes you a few moments to remember to breathe. The kiss is trepidatious and sweet but leaves your stomach swirling with butterflies. Wojchek’s grip tightens on you, scared he’ll find that you’ve been some sprite in his dream that the morning sun will chase away. It feels good to be pressed together like this, limbs intertwined so you’re not sure where you end and he begins.

All too soon, he breaks away, gasping slightly. It seems you weren’t the only one who forgot how breathing works. The sight of the usually stern man so undone by a chaste kiss makes you chuckle. Your hand grazes his cheek, running over his stubble. It’s strange to remember that just an hour ago you were convinced Wojchek wanted nothing more than to throw you overboard. Now he’s holding you like he’ll never let you go. How quickly life can change for the better.

The tranquility is broken by the banging of Olgaren resonating through the wood of the ship. Your watch will soon begin and if you aren’t there to take your post, someone will come looking for you. The ship won’t sail itself and you sigh, realizing you can’t put off your responsibilities in favor of staying with Wojchek all night.

The First Mate groans, “Stay a little longer.”

“I’m late as it is!” You smile at his pout. It’s a new expression you’ve never seen from his before and you push him down onto his tiny bed, kissing him once again. Another bang resounds through the ship and you whine, getting back to your feet.

“I’ll make Abrams cover your watch.” Wojchek offers, staring up at you with comically pleading eyes.

“You’ll have a mutiny on your hands if you come between that man and his sleep. Besides, it’s only four hours. You can even come visit me on deck if you like. It’s single watch so there won’t be anyone around to wonder why we’re together.”

“Four hours?” he grumbles.

“You’re the one who assigned me double watch!”

Wojchek leans back, watching you button your jacket, trying your best to look presentable. He can’t help but smile at the commitment to your work ethic. “I’ll be up as soon as you relieve Olgaren.”

You nod, trying to remove the smile plastered on your face but failing miserably. Hopefully Olgaren is too tired to ask questions when he sees you. “See you soon.”

You’re about to open the door when you remember something. “What does kotku mean?”

Wojchek smiles, “Little cat.”

Once again you’re struck by the sweetness of a man so eager to have the world call him unfeeling. The nickname makes sense. You yourself believe that your presence seems to bring fair weather and good luck to the boat. The Demeter might not have a four legged feline to bring fair fortune but you’re the next best thing; positive, tenacious and willing to do anything for the good of the ship and crew.

You grin at Wojchek, who now lounges happily on his tiny bed, looking somewhat feline himself. “Are you sure you want to call me that? A ship can never be without a cat. It’s bad luck. You’ll never be rid of me.”

Wojchek smiles contentedly, blinking slowly, sleep seemingly not far off. The chances of him joining you on deck for the evening appear to be dwindling. You’d be devastated if he didn’t look so adorable. He nods, beckoning you for one last kiss goodbye. “Good. I’ll keep calling you kotku so we never have to be apart.”

******

#brb on my way to become a sailor so i can meet a grumpy first mate of my own #also it's criminal how little of wojchek was actually in the movie :/#wojchek x reader #wojchek x you #wojchek #last voyage of the demeter #allie writes

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dweetwise · 8 months

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[Riconti] The Runaway

A silly little Wild West AU that nobody asked for 🥰 Rated T | 600 words | ao3 link

"—And bring him back unharmed. Do we have a deal?"

Caleb huffed. "Y'know the Sheriff wants him on a noose. Payin’ bail ain’t gonna cut it this time."

“I know.” Richter’s expression didn't even flinch. "But Sheriff Tapp isn't here, is he?"

Caleb bit back a smirk. Richter was usually a real stickler for rules who put his business first and anything remotely fun second. But pull the right strings, and he was apparently ready to take some shortcuts with the law.

Caleb knew that feeling all too well—after Bayshore and the warden, many of his Hellshire boys had gone right back to their outlaw ways. And after dealing with sour sheriffs and incompetent militia on the regular, some days Caleb was very close to joining them instead of continuing this gun for hire bullshit.

Luckily, Richter wasn’t interested in his gun.

"Bounty's for dead or alive," Caleb drawled. "What's stoppin' me from puttin' him down and gettin’ the bounty for his corpse?"

"The fact that I'm tripling the bounty if you bring him to me," Richter immediately countered.

If his broken jaw still let him, Caleb would have whistled. He didn't know why someone with Richter's status would bother throwing away that much money on some low-life scum, but he wasn't about to complain about a well-paying job.

"It ain't gonna be easy," Caleb said. "A lotta bounty hunters are gonna be after that gold, an' a rat like him's not gonna just let himself get found."

"That's why I'm asking you and not them," Richter simply said.

It was almost a compliment, but Caleb didn't care. They both knew he was the best tracker in the business.

"Alright," Caleb said. He pushed off the wall he'd been leaning on to rest his bad leg. "I'll bring 'im in."

Richter smiled from behind his desk. "Always a pleasure doing business with you."

Caleb grunted an affirmative and went to walk out of Richter's office.

"Oh, and Caleb?" Richter said once he was halfway out the door.

Caleb stopped but didn't bother turning to look at him. "Hm?"

"Unharmed," Richter stressed.

Now that Richter couldn't see it, Caleb was free to roll his eyes. It was like people took one look at the Redeemer and thought he went around harpooning people for fun.

Well, he did. But only those who deserved it.

"I got it," Caleb said.

Not waiting for a reply, Caleb slammed the office door and straightened his hat while he walked through the pompous manor. Because Richter supposedly lived alone, Caleb did his best to ignore the numerous Spanish books tucked into every bookshelf and the pair of boots in the entryway that were too small to be Richter's.

He already had a good few ideas where to start looking for his target. The bastard had a bounty in almost every state around these parts, but knowing him he’d just ignore the danger and hide in plain sight in one of the big cities. Poking at a few contacts would probably be enough to get a decent lead; after last time, Caleb had asked a few of his boys to keep an ear to the ground for sudden new gambling rings or snake oil merchants.

After all, this was already the third time in as many months that Caleb had been hired to drag Visconti home.

#caleb quinn #riconti #felix richter #dweetwrites #dbd fanfic #dbd #dead by daylight

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heartshapedbubble · 1 year

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May I have platonic/Familial headcanons of a gn! survivor! reader who gets along super well with Robbie? Started off rough, maybe he's being a little bit of a menace as a treat but they soon grow really close to the point where you usually wouldn't see one without the other?

Maybe he'd even go over to the survivor's part of the manor to spend time with them, much to some's horror at seeing my boy at the end of the hallway at like 6 in the morning going like 🧍

Angst idea: He slips out a 'Dolores' or refers to reader as his sibling offhandedly, I dunno I just wanna hug him so bad

Feel free to delete! Have a good day! Your writing is so warm 💖

THIS IS SO CUTEEE and thank you anon <333 i have a soft spot for mr robert white and found family so im using this prompt to hc dump😈😈

robbie and survivor!reader platonic/family headcanons🌲

robbie is one of the friendliest hunters out there!!

he doesn't take the matches seriously and doesn't consider that it might be painful or scary for the survivors - he thinks of them as games, like hide and seek or a game of tag

your first encounter with robbie was. not the best i fear

robbie downed you quite quickly with his scorching fire souls, leaving a smug smile on his face

(also robbie loves graffitis and emoting at the person on the chair. not really a good thing if you've got a short fuse)

yet you also pitied him as he got stunned by patricia and norton, feeling bad as you heard him cry and hold his head in frustration

i mean... at least you enjoyed the candy he gave you while you were chaired? you weren't expecting such a thing, considering how you got used to jack playfully tracing his blade over your skin and mary lifting up your chin whenever your attention swayed away from her

the next time you joined a duo hunters game, robbie approached you himself - survivors rarely share candy with him, thinking it's some some kind of a trap, so he remembered you easily and wanted to be friends

now you got yourself mr robert himself following you around like a duckling >:]

he's very hyperactive, always asking questions and jumping from one topic to another

"___, why does mr. prospector have a candle on his head?" "well, he needed it for his job..." "YO ___ I FOUND A SMOKE BOMB‼️‼️" "ROBBIE NO"

im straying away from the canon right here but i think robbie would have an ipad. hes not a greasy ipad kid tho he just likes watching cartoons and playing minecraft while queuing (HE LIKES BLUEY!!!!)

he would also bring his tablet to you and show you pics of his favourite dinosaurs

little man robert actually really likes survivors :) he finds you guys silly and he can't wrap his head around the fact that y'all are so nervous and scared most of the time in the game

would probably have to beg michiko for it but eventually he'll sneak into the survivor's side of the manor to visit you

just imagine. him standing menacingly in front of your door at 2am like 🕴 , scaring you shitless in the process, and suddenly whispering:

"i brought cookies"

he comes over each weekend for movie nights >:) you two build a pillow fort, bring snacks and watch disney/superhero movies

would also ask you to play roblox with him or something

besides games like minecraft and roblox he likes to play pretend/roleplay as pirates or ninjas and would love it if you joined him

he has pet rats inside his head and all of them Have names :) occassionaly he'll take them out and show them to you

asks you for piggy back rides when he's too tired to walk around

he spends a lot of his time outside playing in the nearby forest and sometimes he'll just come inside carrying like. a massive fucking frog or some shit just to show it to you

would hold your hand while walking around the manor and during matches :))))))

robbie actually looks up to you a lot, even though he's a hunter and you're a survivor :] eventually you'll find him referring to you as his "best buddy" or even "bro/sis/sib"

still haves memories of his sister and his life in the asylum - although he coped with it a long time ago since he didn't have any other option, some of his mannerisms still stem from his past experiences

like for example, sharing candy, sneaking through the manor even though he hasn't done anything bad, hiding whenever some of the hunters walk by etc.

sometimes you'll hear him mention "dolores" in the middle of his usual info dump about his interests

robbie got over the loss of his sister pretty well and loves talking about her anyway, but even with that he still lacks an older sibling/big brother/sister figure deep inside

that's one of the reasons he's very friendly in general and protective of people he likes - he doesn't want to end up all alone again no matter what, and is afraid of someone leaving him

sometimes, before you tuck him to sleep and read him a bedtime story, you swear you can hear him sob - you end up staying by his side every time until you're sure he falls asleep with a smile on his face

#identity v #idv #idv headcanons #identity v headcanons #idv fanfic #idv imagines #idv scenarios #idv robbie #robbie white #robbie idv #identity v robbie #idv axe boy #axe boy #identity v axe boy

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spiderlegeyelashes · 5 months

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i'm being whiny about my friendship feelingsb

i wish the friend that im the closest to currently would recognise that im pretty, im glad they dont make fun of my appearance anymore but its weird to know someone can genuinely respect me and still find me mediocre at best. i've talked with them so many times about my feelings and my thing with feeling undesirable and the guy has never hyped me up once, never said "dude but you ARE hot", never even called me pretty, and i cannot imagine them ever using the word beautiful to refer to anything about me. and i know this isn't just what they're like, because they find their other friends hot and beautiful, and pause conversations with them just to say that they look handsome on the daily. feels weird man, this guy has never ever complimented my appearance, and like i remember when i had a talk with them about how it hurt my feelings when they made fun of how i look, of my teeth and complexion, how it made me feel like she thinks im ugly, the only positive thing she could bring herself to say about my looks is just repeating how cool and fashionable i am. which they used to say a loooottt idk and also DUH. that's obvious that's nothing groundbreaking I KNOW i dress well ANYWAY NOT THE POINT.. it's just so weird to me. i'm not used to this! usually the people i was closest to saw me as beautiful, though i am far from conventionally attractive. the people that were closest to me, that loved me, that i opened up to considered me genuinely beautiful (BECAUSE I AM!!!! I AM i'm just specific... but i really am gorgeous even if i have crooked teeth and a funny chin and deep smile lines and a moustache and sideburns and a slight stubble...), and i think that's right, because once you love someone you start to see the beautiful things about them more and more, and come on there are so many things about me that are beautiful! my hair, the strength and thickness and color of it, my eyes, their shape and color, my abundant eyelashes, my deep purple green eyebags, my strong bushy and characteristic eyebrows, my beautiful lips, the bump on my nose, the way my hair wraps around my arms like vines, my moles, my figure, the shape of my legs, the way i carry myself, GOD COME ON there are so many things about me that really are so beautiful! and i don't know how to feel about someone i care about and who cares for me not being able to see a single one of them. that even under pressure they can't seem to be able to think of a single thing they like about me. i don't know. and the fact that the only thing they could say is "what nooo i dont think ur ugly i think u dress so well!!! ur so fashionable bro!!!! and me making fun of ur teeth was supposed to be affectionate, like a funny little thing about you that means you're special to me yknow??? u know i think ur super fashionable!" and likee i get it i get that comparing me to naked mole rats or other rodents they make fun of as ugly is meant to be affectionate because haha get it i have ugly teeth, i get it whatever, i'm sure they didn't mean to be mean, and i can't fault them for it, but god something feels so wrong to me about it. around them i just feel like some silly guy, and not a fully respectable person. and we've talked about it a lot as well and they say outright that they respect me sooo much and they loove me and it's cute and i believe them but something is itching at me here. i feel like a silly character when i'm around them. but i also know that they are sincere when they say that they love and respect me. they just don't see me the way i'm used to and maybe i just need to get used to that. i don't know, i feel like i'm insane and i think i'm misunderstanding something about our friendship.

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lordrandreaming · 2 years

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Oh how he loathes him. That smug fucking bastard.. Who does he think he is? Mild mannered Creighton's ass.

"Your a silly little bastard, aren't you?"

Pate coo'd in that sweet and sultry voice of his. Smooth as chocolate, warm as the summer wind. Fucker.

Creighton grits his teeth as Pate lifts his chin up with his own axe. Those dark barrels of rootbeer which reflect none but the very darkness they hold, they gaze upon Creighton like a hungry beast. A tad sunken, whether from being undead or lack of sleep, Creighton will only hate those brown iris'.

Pate was more than what he let's on.. Bastard was strong for how he looked, Creighton will give the bugger that.. And the murderer knew Pate for the conniving, slippery little rat he was, a dirty fuckin thief, petty as he was lazy.. On 'a treasure hunt' pssh! Hogwash.

"I didn't think you were so stupid as to fall for this measly trap i set up.. And here you are. Caught in the spider's web."

Pate hums, the usual disinterested look upon that smug, handsome face is over taken by a playful light in his eyes, and something playfully sick twisted in with his grin. Creighton glares at him with sharp icey blues.

"Shut tha fuck up if ye kno what's good for ye.."

Creighton snarls. His hands angrily form fists, chainmail digs into chainmail in a mild fit of rage, as Pate completely subdued him.

You see, Creighton ended strung up in a tree like a fresh hunt to dry, by his ankles. His axe became confiscated and Pate came laughing unto the scene.

Surpised that Creighton ended up in such a trap, he was amazed the murder didn't catch such an.. Obvious set up.

Pate bound his hands with chains, it was uncomfortable at best. Scuffing his wrists, while being humiliated by this fucker. And then he was cut down, like strung up jerky.

Pate chuckles at him.

"Im afraid you don't know what's good for me, my dear.. Intimidation doesn't work when your the one who's captured."

Pate smartly repeats, knowing Creighton can't do shit to him.

"You ain't captured shit! When i get my fuckin hands on you.. Cheeky prick.."

Venom practically dripped from each word the Mirrah man replied with.

"Ooh~ Im practically shaking."

Pate dully replies with a smile. He let's the murderers own axe caress the tight linked chainmail on his neck, creating a horrid little sound. Creighton sneers at the sound.

"Agh-.. Would you fuckin quit that!"

Pate's grin turns up more.

"Don't like it? What will you do to have me stop?"

Creighton cringes as Pate makes the same awful noise again. Metal on metal, cold screeching steel. And just that little zap of electricity- from the axe meant to slay dragons, turned into a murderer of men.

"Gah-!! Please!"

Gods, it felt so wrong for Creighton, the wandering killer from Mirrah, to beg this lowlife scum..

"Mmh, Good boy.. Beg for it~"

Pate hums gleefully, ceasing the grinding of metal. Creighton snarls at him from under his metal mask.

"I fuckin 'ate you... When i get my axe back you'll be a sorry fucker.."

"Hmhm.. Oh will i? Hm.. Your not very good at being a hostage. Your not even squirming.. Completely helpless and you dare not even attempt to try and help yourself."

Creighton was about to spit back at Pate, but he was suddenly kicked over, or, nudged by Pate's leg. The murderer lands face first into the dirt, sending his mask flying. It clatters against the ground, before laying lifeless.

Creighton, now laying front down against the ground, feels Pate's hand come down to the back of his neck, effectively pinning him. His icey blue eyes widen and he lets out a noise.

"You know how this will end, Creighton.. Don't you? This silly little game of cat and mouse.. But im not the mouse."

Pate coos. Creighton snarls back.

"Yer no fuckin' cat.. Yer a slimy damn rat.. I'll kill ya- I'll kill ya so fast ye won't even kna what 'it ya.."

Pate laughs at him, and hums smugly, his fingers curling around from the back of Creighton's neck. He gasps as he can feel the hard leather gloves of Pate's nimble fingers pressing into the sides of his throat.

"I know you, you chase me like a desperate hound in heat.. You don't want your ring anymore, do you?"

"AN WHA IF I DON'T?!"

Pate's eyes go wide at suddenly Creighton yelling at him. 'Oh my fucking lord...' Is all he can think. He was right? Damn. Not a first, but he was just messing with Creighton.

Sure they had some past, in Mirrah. Pate was traveling through, a young man, just as devilishly handsome as he is now. He's part of how Creighton escaped his sentence.. The murderer didn't just break out on his own.

Of course, two men alone on a rigorous journey to nowhere, there has to be some form of entertainment. Exploring the other's body, in a heated moment of longing that neither knew they harboured. It didn't go too far- usually one shoved the other off of him before anything could progress.

Pate laughs.

"You can't possibly be serious, can you? You really don't want your ring back?"

"...."

Creighton really just fucked himself over, didn't he?

"When you untie me.. I'll fuckin kill you.."

Pate can't help but laugh again.

"Ahaha~ Ah, ah, ah~ You didn't answer the question my dear. I know you wish to see me dead, but goodness, have you fallen for me or something? Have you hit your head recently?"

"Have you hit your head recently, ye twit?"

#mori writes 🎉#dark souls 2 #mild mannered pate #creighton of mirrah #paighton #mild spice 🔥#have a wip im working on!! im super proud of it💙#when your gay for your mortal enemy and simultaniously want to fuck him and kill him #but if you kill him you dont get to fuck :(#so here we are #;)#oop #mild mannered pate x creighton the wanderer #mild mannered pate/creighton the wanderer #hehe they be gay #p8cr8

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shinycollarboneapologist · 1 year

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okay let's be boring and go with ace as a name bc that's my nickname irl bc I'm a massive gilmore girls fan (team logan btw iykyk)!!

I really want to attempt writing fics but I'm wayyyy to nervous! I was okay at English in school and I always send obnoxiously long asks into blogs on here with my ideas based on their fics (sorry fellow tumblr.com authors you all get forced to see my writing) but I have nightmares of writing and putting it on here only to be bullied off the platform ahahahahah

jealous of the sun bathing in England rn its been pissing it down raining all dayyyyy, we only get like 1 week of sun a year and the rest of the time its very stereotypically rainy !! my day was shit but always better after taking to you bff!

also please excuse my excessive use of exclamation marks idk why but to me a full stop feels mean and I also use ellipsis way too much but I, like you, am the drama so I love to build unnecessary tension...

I've actually always wanted jury duty but I've never been called for it, I know it's meant to be so boring but I want to live my jury duty delusion of being a hot juror! a torrid jury love affair? hello I'd read that fic

spring break always sounded so fun to me as a sad English child!! we just call it Easter holidays and be boring and religious but when I hear spring break I imagine drunk people on a beach in florida yk?

my current obsessions for blogs are;

-lottiecrabie (pfms has me in a chokehold)

-toomuchracket (living in the flatmate! matty delusion rn)

-byyourside28 (loving the soft sound series as a person obsessed with getting tattoos)

-justlikemebutsixfootthree (literally all their smut is god tier)

-bookishstrawberry (fluffy and gizmo series has my heart)

-imightgetbetter (the whole love it if we made it series has me wanting children but only fictional ones with matty... the delusion creation is STRONG)

and OF COURSE the no 1 blog on tumblr is the beautiful, amazing and unmatched... shinycollorboneapologist

omg yes to only letting matty into our cottage to sing, we will bring him out tea and cigarettes but otherwise no rats allowed sorry ratthew!! taylor however gets the master suite with a 4 poster bed and unlimited pampering!! same with Ross, George and Adam bc only ratty needs humbling (I really do love you tho Matthew give me one chance I'll be your controversially young gf)

ily bff!!!

-ace (my new name rip illicit affairs anon you will be missed)

ps. apologies for the ridiculously long ask I literally am so obnoxious

..... i love gilmore girls. lets chat abt that.

okay that is very ... warranted. i also was super nervous and tbh ... style was probably never going to be posted but i was a bit inebriated after my birthday and just posted it without looking back. look at us now!!! so for that, i say you should 110% just take the leap. i will be your #1 fan actually.

i will send the sunshine and good vibes your way. i usually like the rain a lot, but i can imagine it gets a bit tiring if its like that all year long. im glad you had a good day!!!!

i love your use of exclamation points okay. there i said it. it just makes everything you say feel so excited and happy and i love it. the ellipses ...... love that for us. ofc you are the drama, you're the main character hello.

that is how i want my spring break to be, but alas i am working and writing my silly little stories for tumblr.com. SGLJFDLG easter holiday just sounds so cute though?

okay can we talk about pfms.... because that. that fic is my hyper fixation atm. like i just … it’s everything to me.

also all of those blogs i follow and love more than life itself. most of them axtually inspired me to write myself which is like 🫂 i use all of them as my silly little delusional daydreams (esp toomuchrackets flatmate!matty, the things i would do for that man and justlikemebutsixfootthree’s recent smut… jeez)

please you are too kind. idk abt no 1 blog BUT… i’ll take it okay.

maybe some cheese too, since he is a rat. taylor gets the master suite with us, we’ll bake her little cookies and biscuits and give her the best pampering treatment of her life. (also pls let’s not conjure matty to my blog … that would be so embarrassing to me i think i would keel over and die) (i also will fight u for the spot of matty’s controversially young gf)

ilysm and i hope u have a great day

#ace #rip to illicit affairs anon #u will be missed #ilysm bff

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morelka · 5 months

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YAY IM SO GLAD YOU LIKED THE BIRD FACTS also today i literally saw a kereru And a harrier hawk lmao what a good time for bird facts!! good time to mention you’re more likely to see some specific birds in different regions depending on where your staying but i guess you’d be travelling during an exchange right?

anyways, penguins!! there’s more penguins than this but off the top of my head: hoiho/yellow eyed penguin which are funky little creatures that somehow look mad at you but that’s part of what makes them so endearing to me they’re so silly haha. idk if it’s the hoiho specifically but sometimes there will be colonies of penguins on some beach that’ll come out at night if you’re lucky :)

WHIO how did i literally not mention whio yet. also called a blue duck i think doc (department of conservation) used to have a video game where you could play as a whio i don’t remember i was a kid but it was very cool. i’m gonna try find it after this list

harrier hawk since i saw one today, flies with wings in like a v shape, very quiet usually and looks very cool. you can also see them on the sides of the road eating roadkill. this can make driving difficult cause sometimes they’ll fly out in front of you and you can try to swerve which could be dangerous or hit it :(

ruru/morepork, our only owl!!! they look very funny but i love them, you can sometimes hear them when ur camping. big yellow eyes very silly goofy bird

possums! also not a bird but you will probably see one of these. they are Very Bad for our ecosystem (same goes with dogs and cats that are allowed to roam the bush, ferrets, stoats, rats and most land mammals tbh, since most of our birds aren’t adapted to deal with these.) australia likes their possums but we don’t. their fur can be brown or grey, the babies are kinda cute but the adults scare me a little haha. if you’re camping and you shine a torch into the trees sometimes you’ll see eyes shining back at you, that’s possums! not to be confused with american possums which are white and i think are kinda cute also

fairy terns, also called tara-iti, i did a school report on them in year 9. found in coastal areas, looks kinda like a mini seagull. possibly our most endangered indigenous breeding bird since they nest on the sand they’re vulnerable to a lot of stuff. i love them

huia, extinct. they looked very cool, had long curved beaks, black with orange cheeks. their feathers were a symbol of leadership. love them

moa, also extinct. BIG birds. i mean giant. i love them so so much i want to bring them back jurassic park style. wanna bring back the huia as well but MOAS. you can probably see a skeleton of one if you go to a museum. go and marvel at the magnificent-ness of the moa

seagulls, since you mentioned them. our seagulls are BASTARDS !!!! you’ll be on the beach eating fish n chips and oh look a seagull. oh look haha five seagulls. oh haha look twelve seagul- my cHIPS

love seagulls

weta - again not a bird but your probably gonna get freaked out by one if you don’t know what they are. basically they’re giant flightless crickets. big antenna, they look scary but they’re mostly harmless (just googled it apparently they bite? oops. never been bit though) if u leave them alone they will leave you alone

that is all the birds (and non birds) i can think of for now. it’s funny the thing you said about not having albatrosses since i’ve always been jealous of europe since you guys have a bunch of cool corvids like crows and ravens whereas i think our only corvid is magpies? and you have squirrels :( but i guess i never though of it from the other side lol

let me know if you have any questions also btw!! there are more birds than this so i may return again with more and perhaps non birds like the tuatara since those are pretty cool

omg omg omg thank you so much! so sorry for my late reply life has been messy messy

i can’t believe im receiving such an amazing list of animals to look out for!!

also i checked out the game it’s so cute omg i love it

wow i didn’t even think of the fact that you don’t have crows! they’re such a stable here i feel like something would be missing without them haha (also yeah love watching squirrels climb they’re super cute)

also thanks for the warning of the crickets haha i love insects but i’m used to very small ones :)

also also thank you sm for the tip with the penguins <3

i’m also very excited that i might maybe see some seals/sea lions since i’ve also never encountered them.

omg i also read that apparently snakes are banned in nz?? that’s crazy to me (i have seen one (1) snake in my life so who am i to talk) - wait do you guys even have any reptiles? and what’s the amphibian situation?

I hope you’ve had a good start into the new year!! So jealous of the summer haha i’m gonna have three autumns consecutively

#nz

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toaster-is-babey · 1 year

Text

CW: mentions of injury/coping with trauma, toxic past relationships (nothing detailed/indepth don't worry ). Mattie is my vent sona and what not.

Also @z-eddsworld hope yore up for a long read man, finally did a semi-decent ref of Mattie :)

Here is my mad lad Matthew. He is a character from an old au i grew extremely attached to. Though i discontinued the au because i couldnt be arsed to finish the story for it. I am repurposing some characters from the au tho :)!

Name: Matthew Raeburns

Nicknames: Mattie(prefers to be called this, will punch you otherwise), Gingie, Doll face, Matts, freckles, spot, bitch, Mattie-Beear(only by his partners)

Age: 29

Sexuality: Homosexual, demiromantic

Gender: Male/questioning

Pronouns: He/it

Height: 5'5/166cm

Body type: usually pudgy, can be drawn a little slim

Hair : red/deep ginger, very fluffy, curly and soft, cowlick is a must

So i repurposed Him into a kinsona/Oc earlier last year.

He does/will have visible scars in future art. But for his half finished doodle ref I'll probably redo in the future lmao.

He belongs in my and my friends @mrhappypills au

No mercy AU

Mattie is the middle child in his family.

He has an older brother named Fredrick aka Freddy/Fred

His younger sister has yet to be named.

Alfred is Matties father, and they loath eachother. Though now that Alfred is older, he is hoping to somehow through a miracle Reconnect with his son again. Though its fairly tough, as both Mattie and Alfred are hot-headed and fight everytime they see eachother. They both refuse family therapy lmao

Jacqueline is Matties deceased mother. More information will be posted as i redesign her and develope her character more ^^

He is Neurodivergent, he has trouble putting thought to pen, or thoughts to speech.

He is sensitive with what fabric he uses, he prefers soft or fluffy clothes, it calms his nerves. He bruises like a Peach, though he is clumsy so you'll see him with an ice pack or simply a glass of wine(or whiskey) .

In Matthews teenage years, He was edgy, as most teenagers are . Though he did get himself into a lot of fights because of boredom Atleast until he met his first love, A norse-american transfer student, and was very infatuated with him. They dated close to 5 years. Their break up was a nasty one, as Mattie had blinded Tjøstolv. They both started to get toxic towards eachother and often fought, often ending with both of them leaving the house for a night or two.

Tjøstolv had paid for a large part of his boyfriends schooling, he loved his boyfriend to bits and loved how cute his partner looked when he was focused on work. though being in the public eye often, he grew stressed, and tired, causing him to start fights. On another note, Tjø himself doesnt mind simple jobs, like doing IT work, it calms him.

Will post art of this wealthy rat man when i can for now take a screenshot eddit

'nother screenshot eddit. Tjø has heterochromia, eyepatch lad next to him is Delta, which belongs to @mrhappypills

Silly fun fact: matties flesh and blood is a vibrant Purple/fuchsia. No real reason on how that happened just thought it was funky and cool (⁠ ⁠´⁠◡⁠‿⁠ゝ⁠◡⁠`⁠)

Heads up, i know nothing really science-y, im taking inspiration from shows i love. As this takes place in a cartoon-y universe, logic definitely wont apply lmao

Mattie was quite the prodigy, and had finished his later years of secondary school, he'd gotten recommendations to some pretty snazzy universities. He studied different modes of transportation, will take apart your car for fun. Though he was dead set on one day to home explore other worlds, it definitely took a long time, but when he had completed his final safety trial, he had somehow ended up in the wild west, in spit-bucket america, seeing a nearly identical man to himself sitting at the bar, he couldnt believe his eyes. An old Timey version of himself and a handsome looking dude being flirty(screenshot eddit by me :) )

Mattie has travelled many worlds,though found himself stuck in one. Not because of technical issues, but a Man. One he's never seen in other worlds. A wealthy business man named William. Though Mattie worked on technology for william, he somehow with his skrunkly charm managed to seduce him. It took William a while to realize Mattie was flirting with him. They're a power couple now though :)

Screenshot eddit of Lucian>Mattie>William

Art of William and Mattie made by my pal orange,

Im so sorry lmao(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

I could definitely go on for hours about Mattie and his life, but I've written enough already (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) Anywho I hope y'all have a lovely day and a happy new year(⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

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voldkat24983257805723052 · 2 years

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hakukoyu cats are invading my mind

i have like so much bits of lore for them for some reason and idk press read more if ur ready for entire paragraphs of kity lore !? oh yeah half of this is funnies the other half is how hakuji cat gets to muzan's place DW I'M A MERCIFUL GOD KOYUKI CAT IS ALIVE

1. vk goes ham and explains backstory lore but only the poisoning arc + demon arc in full detail

when the poisoning happened yk haku cat went on a rampage and probably beat up a buch of kity but he didn't realize that only keizou was dead koyu cat was just sleeping a little weirdly near her water thing . it just looked like she died but she was actually jus snoozing completely unaware of anything haku cat got abducted by muzan n got all sad meanwhile koyuki woke up and saw pure desctruction ( and dead keizou but ... ya ) and she knew that when a disaster happened hakuji would go ham n beat up everything in his path following the trail of injured cats n scratched up mailboxes n other stuff like that she was frantically looking for any trace of hubby and hubby was found . just sitting there in muzan's front yard they probaby had a sob filled dramatic reunion kind of thing but in the end koyuki lived at the side of muzan's house . a little bush ( that can be walked around btw ) concealed her presence nobody else could know abt koyukity bc at first hakuji cat didn't trust muzan enough but once he did a new threat emerged : douma cat so uh . koyuki is forever hidden behind the small bush but hakuji couldn't leave the muzan place to sit in the bush corner with koyuki bc 1. free food n drinks ?? where else he gonna get that . hunting for 2 cats is not easy 2. if he went missing one day muzan is gonna look for him at least a little bit ( bc muzan would definitely not want to lose such a powerful cat ) and that risks them being spotted so yea haku cat ( akaza cat ) sits in the house for half the day and when the sun sets he goes on a night walk , basically a mini hunt session n then visiting koyuki and forfeiting all his leftover kibble to her n then sleeping vibing cuddling idk what cat couples do he wakes up extra early to sneak back into the house n sit in his cardboard box n pretend to be asleep till muzan awakens so nobody suspects a thing he purposely doesn't eat much so koyuki can be full and happy but dw he is not starving himself . sometims he hunts like rats or squirrels or something he eats those bc he's more used to it , being a stray cat for some of his life . koyuki was a house cat for her entire life so she woudl probably get all shook when offered a rat oops this one time akaza's cat bed went missing overnight and instead he was seen sleeping ( actually not sleeping he rushed into that box just a few minutes ago n pretended to be asleep ) in a cardboard box with a little snowflake carpet in it he actually gave it to koyukity so she could sleep comfy he liked cardboard box more anyway

2. vk goes on a tangent and starts talking abt the random snowflake carpet

maybe keizou ( he is the owner of the cats here yes ) maybe he had a carpet with a snowflake pattern on it and maybe hakuji cat just really liked to sit right in the middle of it for some reason ( haha compass needle ) maybe he somehow found a way to steal the carpet and take it to muzan's place when the ' demoning arc ' happened idk how tho im dumby that snowflake carpet just belongs to him now . it's his carpet if anyone tries to take it away from him he will fight them it is his carpet

3. vk suddenly remembers how hakuji cat got all pink n stripy despite being born as a black cat

me and a twitter friend once made a silly funny theory that haku cat went to a kind of festival / carnival thing idk !! with koyu cat n keizou there was this face paint stand bc idk i think there's usually one and hakuji cat kept mewing at keizou he wanted to be pink then keizou got a bit too carried away and made him pink all over , gave him blue stripes everywhere even on his face n then when they went home the paint just didn't wanna come off no matter what so he remained pink forever oh yeah about the eyes he has heterochromia his left eye is yellow his right eye is blue ( left n right from viewer's perspective ) oh yeah yeah this is random but last night my sister gave me the idea of koyuki getting little kity babies and i am currently discussing it with my discord friends so expect an announcement on that sometime later ( n also potential kity babie content if we all agree on it )

#kity no yaiba #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #akaza #hakuji #koyuki kny #koyuki #hakukoyu #hakuji x koyuki #akaza x koyuki #akaza kny #kny akaza

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illfoandillfie · 3 years

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please give me Anything himbo roger i need this like perhaps... him being obsessed with eating pussy? pls? - cloud anon

I’m so so so glad you requested more himbo rog because i love any excuse to write him lmao. This is a bit of a long one, certainly well over blurb length but what are you gonna do. I just have a lot of thots where himbo rog is concerned and then there was that convo a little while ago about dressing him in a maid uniform and I had to use it in here.

warnings: smut, hypnosis & bimbofication, dom!reader, fingering, pegging, oral sex (f receiving), hand job, a little bit of spanking, a little choking, a very brief mention of public sex, free use (perhaps leaning ever so slightly into consensual non consent), humiliation and degradation

Blurb Advent: Day 15

Future Management Series (all my bimbo/himbo writing)

Taglist: @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave @scorpiogemini

The costume shop was quiet when you entered it, one of the fluorescent lights at the far end flickering. The lady at the counter looked up from her magazine, her gaze lingering on Roger for a moment before she looked back down.

“What was the theme again?” you asked Roger as you flicked through a rack of women’s costumes.

“The letter M,” he replied from one of the other racks.

“How did Freddie pick that?”

“Dunno, you’d have to ask him. Bigger question is what are we going to wear.”

“What about Mickey and Minnie Mouse?” you shrugged.

“That sounds easy. And we’d look cute as fuck.”

“Sorry, hun,” the woman at the counter piped up, “Sold out of them two days ago.”

“Rats.”

“Mice, love,” Roger teased poking his tongue out as he went to check out another row of costumes, “We could make them from scratch I suppose.”

“Left it a bit late though. We’re meant to have them by Saturday.” You headed to the counter in the hopes that the woman there would be able to speed things up, “Do you have any other costumes starting with M then?”

She sighed as she were being interrupted in a very important task before putting down her magazine and pulling out a binder full of lists of stock. Flicking through it she located the section with M. An awful lot of it had been crossed out.

“How many people are invited to this thing? And do they all shop here?”

He shrugged as he joined you at the counter, “Roughly half of London if his last party was anything to go by. What are our options?”

The women smiled at Roger, her attitude becoming much friendlier now that he was involved, “Not a lot I’m afraid. We’ve still got a Mummy, as in Ancient Egypt, ummm, a Maid, as in French, Marilyn Monroe, Mary Poppins, a Monk, Mrs Clause, Medieval Princess…”

“Looks like you’ll be easy to sort out,” Roger said to you, “not much in the way of mens costumes though. I’d be an alright Mummy I guess,”

“Sorry, should have specified. It’s a women’s costume that one. Very sexy,”

“How do you make a Mummy sexy?”

“Strategically removed bandages. I can show you if you like,” she said this last part to Roger, suggestion dripping from every word.

“What about the Monk?” you suggested.

“Ehhhh,”

“Beggars can’t be choosers Rog.”

“Alright, it’s the backup idea. Would I be able to fit in any of those other costumes though?”

The woman thought about it, giving Roger a once over as if measuring him with just her eyeballs, “The Maid maybe. Think we should have one large enough.”

“Alright I’ll try that.”

“And I’ll go Marilyn Monroe?”

“You as Marilyn? Oh there’s a joke in there somewhere…something about How To Mary A Millionaire?”

You shook your head at him, “Just go and try on your dress,”

It was a good thing Roger had no qualms about cross dressing because the maid outfit fit perfectly. One look at Roger’s legs in the short, ruffled skirt had your mind whirring with ideas. He bought both your costumes, adding in a maid’s headband and fishnet stockings for himself and a blond Marilyn wig for you. And on Saturday night you watched him don the outfit once more, struggling to keep your hands off him. Without you knowing, he’d gone and bought himself a pair of simple black heels, explaining that if he was going to do it he might as well do it properly. Unfortunately for you they just emphasised the shape of his legs in the fishnets and made his hips sway as he walked.

The party itself was fun but you constantly found yourself zoning out, thinking about what you’d like to do to Roger before he got out of the dress.

“Love?” he asked, making you blink yourself back to the thumping music and loud voices, “You alright?’

“Fine,” you nodded.

Roger frowned and grabbed your hand, leading you away from the main throng of people, “You’ve been zoning out all night, are you sure you’re okay? Haven’t had too much to drink or anything?”

“No, it’s fine. Someone lit up a joint before and I must have breathed in some of it without meaning to.”

He gave you a look like he knew there was more to it.

“Also, maybe I can’t stop thinking about trancing you in that dress.”

“Oh,” his eyes widened and if it hadn’t been as dark as it was you would have seen a light pink stain creeping up his neck. He glanced around and then pulled you off down the hall and towards an even quieter spot, “and um, what might that look like?”

“I don’t know, got a few ideas,” your breath hitched as Roger pushed you into a dark corner of whichever room you’d ended up in, “like the idea of you on your knees. Bet I could see your arse if you leaned forward enough.”

Roger attached his lips to your throat, oblivious of if anyone else was around.

“Maybe spanking you or edg – ” you were cut off as Roger kissed you full on the mouth, his hands already working at getting his underwear and stockings down far enough to get his dick out.

“We’ll continue this conversation at home,” he said as he lifted you up, pushing your back against the wall as he moved your underwear aside.

It took a couple of days for the topic to come up again but Roger was still just as into it as he had been at the party. He’d clearly been thinking about it too because he had almost as many ideas as you did and for a week or so you discussed it on and off. It came up intermittently, sometimes a single idea out of nowhere.

“What if you tranced me and made me think I was your maid or uhhh servant? Maybe like acted really strict? Or mean even?”

“What about I get a bell to ring to get your attention but use the hypnosis to condition you to get hornier when you hear it?”

Or sometimes it was more of a conversation with each of you building on what the other said.

“What do you think about exploring that free use thing we talked about a few months ago? Like me just having you how I want and when I want.”

“Would that require a more extended hypnosis? A whole day maybe? More?”

“No I don’t think so. I mean, maybe longer than the usual couple of hours. An afternoon? Not longer than a day though, I wouldn’t feel comfortable doing that to you.”

“Then yeah okay, we did agree it sounded hot in a non-hypno way so mixing them together should work. Um, what about that pegging thing we tried?”

“You wanna do it again?”

“Yeah I think so. Again, it was pretty hot last time so doing it while I’m hypnotised can only be better, right?”

“Are you sure? We’re both pretty new to it.”

“Yeah I’m sure. I really enjoyed it,” he laughed nervously, “and I would have suggested doing it again anyway, this just seems like a good excuse.”

By the end of the week you had a pretty solid idea about what you were both looking for from the scene and what you’d both feel comfortable doing. And you arranged it so you were both at home on Friday, free to spend the morning relaxing and the afternoon playing.

After an early lunch in which you made sure to mess up the kitchen, Roger went and changed, once again putting on the dress, fishnets, hair piece and shoes. Only this time he wore one of your thongs, sheer black, underneath and a butt plug you’d picked up for him, complete with a pink jewel on the end. For your part, you dressed in one of your work outfits with a grey pencil skirt and white blouse, hopeful that it would make you seem more authoritative. Roger did a little spin for you when he was dressed and then sat in one of the kitchen chairs so you could talk him down into his trance. The scenario you’d agreed upon had him believing he was your silly brainless maid, hired to do whatever you asked. The sound of your bell meant you had another task for him, but it also made him extra horny. So horny in fact that he’d have trouble remembering what he was meant to be doing. As you dropped him deeper and he relaxed more, you noticed his legs spreading further open, making you laugh to yourself. Finally you rang the bell to wake him.

Roger grinned at you from the chair, “What can I do for you Ma’am?”

“Your first job of the day, Dummy,” you said, putting on a stern voice that left no room for argument, “is to dust off the bookshelf in the living room. It’s filthy up there.”

“Where?”

“Through this doorway,” you pointed and he dutifully stood up and began to walk toward it.

“You’ll need a duster,” you reminded him.

“Oh! Of course, Ma’am. Umm….”

“In that cupboard,”

Roger nodded, cheeks pink with embarrassment and retrieved the feather duster.

You followed him out to the living room, watching his skirt bounce with each step. He started off with the shelves at eye level, humming to himself as he brushed the duster over them, but soon had to move on to the shelves higher up. You perched yourself on the couch, acting as if you were reading though your eyes were on Roger, watching as he wobbled on his tip toes, his skirt riding up. You rang the bell and Roger jolted, looking around for you as he bit his lip.

“Yes Ma’am?”

“I think you might need to stand on a chair, Dummy. It doesn’t seem like you can reach the top shelves.”

He nodded and hurried to retrieve one, nearly running in his haste to please you.

The chair was a stroke of genius on your part. It gave you a good view up his skirt as he happily continued his dusting, especially when he leant over to get the far end of each shelf without moving his chair. You could clearly see the pink jewel every time and it made you eager to get him onto the next task. With another ring of the bell Roger jumped down to the ground and hurried to ask what he could do now.

“My shoes,” you said, pointing at the heels on your feet, “they need polishing. I want you to spit shine them for me.”

Roger blinked at you.

You clicked and pointed at your shoes again, “On your knees. C’mon, I’m not paying you to stand around and look pretty. Lick my shoes clean.”

“Yes Ma’am, sorry Ma’am,” he bowed his head and dropped to his knees where he stood, crawling over to you.

“Good Dummy,” you said as he trailed his tongue over the toe of your shoe. You’d wiped down the shoes earlier just to make sure Roger wouldn’t pick up any germs from them, but he was too brainless to notice they were already clean, enthusiastically licking at them. You made it clear you were watching him closely though. Midway through the second shoe you saw him brush his hand over the front of the skirt and stopped his shoe shining.

“I’m sorry, Dummy, is this making you horny?”

“Yes, Ma’am, it is,”

“Show me how much,” you wiggled your shoe under the hem of the skirt and pressed it lightly up, rubbing the toe against his crotch, “Hump my shoe, Maid.”

Without any more encouragement he began doing exactly as you’d asked, dragging his clothed cock along the top of your shoe, letting his eyes shut as he bit his lip.

“Alright, enough.” You pulled your food free and held it out in front of you, “Is it my imagination or did you make a mess on my shoe?”

He tilted his head to the side.

“I think you’re so fucking horny you’ve got precum all over my shoe. Is that right?”

“I don’t know,”

“Well,” you grabbed him by the hair and pushed him over the streak, “clean it up and tell me.”

Roger whimpered as you pulled his hair to move him where you wanted but thanked you for helping him and confirmed you were right. After that you felt he deserved a reward so you readjusted yourself, pulling your pencil skirt a little higher up your legs before you rang the bell again.

Roger groaned quietly at the sound, his breathing a little harder than before and then sat back. His eyes fell to where your skirt was gathered against your thigh as you crossed your legs.

“What now Ma’am?” he watched closely as you recrossed your legs, “Is there something else you’d like me to lick?”

“I don’t know. Is there something else you’d like to lick?”

He nodded, eyes still firmly on your thighs.

“Aren’t you just a pathetic little slut.”

“Am I?”

“I’m afraid so. Do you understand why?”

Roger nodded, still staring at your crotch, and then shook his head.

“Oh Dummy. It’s one thing to be my good little maid and eat me out when I tell you to, it’s entirely different for you to ask to do it. Do you see how slutty that makes you?”

Roger tilted his head and then shook it.

You tutted at him and knocked the bell as if on accident.

He whined at the sound.

“Crawl to the dining room. I want you to wash the floor in there.”

“But…please? I want to lick you soooooo bad and I’d be so good at it.”

“Careful, Maid. Now crawl.

“Yes Ma’am.” Roger dipped his head in apology and began crawling to the next room.

You stepped around him to retrieve a bucket of water and a cloth, placing both on the floor of the dining room where he stopped, “You know what to do.”

He looked at the bucket and back to you, confusion written all over his face.

With an exaggerated and exasperated sigh you handed him the cloth and, taking hold of his wrist, plunged his hand into the warm water. He gasped as you then wrenched it free and dropped it to the floorboards.

“Scrub.”

He nodded, looking mildly upset and dragged the cloth slowly over the floor.

You watched for a little while before coming up behind him, “Put your back into it, stop being lazy.” you pressed his upper back with your foot to make him bend forward.

His neck and face were bright pink, though it was hard to say whether it was arousal or embarrassment that was making him flush more. He did as you asked though, scrubbing the floor harder. You stepped behind him again, admiring the view and occasionally reminding him what you expected. After you felt you’d watched him struggle enough you stepped up behind him again. He pushed the cloth harder, expecting another reprimand. Instead you trailed you hand over the curve of his arse, pushing his skirt up higher.

Roger stilled, though you heard him whine softly into the floor.

“You’re doing a very good job, Dummy.”

He gasped when you suddenly spanked him but he pushed his arse back against your hand.

“You want another?”

He shook his head but kept pressing back against you.

“But I think you do,” You gave him another spank, “Now keep being good and see if you can earn some more.”

He nodded and smiled, though there were tears in his eyes, and then returned to scrubbing the floor.

You let him go for a while, stepping out into the other room to calm down and get ready for the next part of the plan. You could feel your wetness pooling in your underwear with how turned on you were at ordering Roger around and how much he was enjoying it. Originally you were going to make him wait to get you off until after you’d fucked him but perhaps you could have your cake and eat it too. All the same you headed to the bedroom to gather the strap and dildo you’d bought when the topic of pegging had first arisen between you. You grabbed them and the lube and then put them down again as you considered your next move. The conclusion you came to was that there wasn’t much point having a desperate bimbo toy if you were only going to deny yourself. Roger came as much as he wanted when you were the one under his influence, so why shouldn’t you do the same. You quickly shimmied out of your underwear, and then picked everything up again, dropping it on the couch in the living room on your way back to see how Roger was getting along. He was still scrubbing though he’d spilt some of the water as he’d moved the bucket, the top of his dress wet in patches. You pulled out one of the chairs, standing in front of it as you rang the bell, and watched as Roger squirmed at the sound.

“What can I do for you Ma’am?”

“Come here.”

He immediately dropped the cloth and crawled towards you.

“Good Dummy. Need your fingers to make me feel good.” You rucked your skirt up and dropped onto the seat, placing one leg up on the table.

Rogers eyes lit up and he leaned forward as if to lick hungrily along your slit.

You grabbed his hair and held him back.

“Ma’am?” Roger whined, struggling against your grip with his tongue hanging out, desperate to reach your cunt.

“I said fingers, slut.”

Roger whimpered again but brought his hand up, trailing his fingers along your slit.

“That’s right Dummy. You’re gonna finger me and make me cum and you’re going to keep your eyes up here so I know you’ll behave yourself.”

He nodded rapidly, his eyes on yours, “You’re wet,”

“You know how much I like watching your cute little arse work. C’mon, finger me,” you instructed, waiting until he’d sunk one digit into you before continuing, “Love seeing you with that pretty plug. Makes me want to use you.”

“Ma’am can I…?”

“I didn’t say you could talk. Focus.”

Roger’s eyebrows furrowed as he pulled his finger out and pressed it back in.

“You look confused Slut. What’s the matter?”

“Is this good?”

You smiled indulgently at that, half convinced he’d been about to ask to eat you out again, “So good Dummy. Add a second finger.”

He did as you asked, automatically curling them against you as he pulled them out.

“You’re such a good, obedient servant.” You relaxed back into the chair, letting Roger find a good rhythm.

He was quiet for a bit, concentrating, and then “Can I lick you now?”

You made a tutting noise, “I thought you understood your position.”

“Pos-tition?”

“I guess I have to explain it again then. I don’t care if you like licking cunt, this isn’t about you. You’re my maid. Your job is to serve me however I want, remember? I don’t care if you want something different. You’re mine to use how and when I want. Those were the conditions I hired you under, do you understand?”

“Yes Ma’am,”

“Are you sure? Then why haven’t I cum yet?”

Roger kept his eyes locked on yours as he sunk a third finger into you, pumping them faster and bringing his other hand up to rub your clit.

“Better,” you managed to get out, though it was much breathier than you’d intended.

Roger poked his tongue out between his teeth as he put all his energy into pleasuring you. You let your head drop back, rocking your hips in time with his thrusts as he sank his fingers deep into you, his other hand firmly occupied too. He slid his thumb between your lips and up to circle your clit, spreading your arousal over your cunt. The mixture of sensations sent you over the edge without too much delay, your legs clamping shut to keep his hand where you wanted it until you’d come down. Afterwards you made Roger hold his fingers up, cleaning them off with your own tongue. He whined and pouted as he watched you lick up your juices, so desperate to taste you for himself. You gave him a small concession though, grabbing his cheeks when you were done to force his mouth open. He looked confused as you brought your face close and spat onto his tongue, your saliva tinged with what you’d just licked from his fingers. But he thanked you with a big smile and a small hum of satisfaction as he swallowed it.

“What now Ma’am?” he asked softly, sitting up straighter and glancing at the bell.

You bumped the bell against your palm as if in thought, watching Roger wince with each ring, “The kitchen needs a tidy up. Go in there and wipe down all the benches for me, okay? I’ll be back soon to check on you.”

Roger nodded and walked on unsteady legs back through the house. You followed him, needing to point him in the right direction a couple of times, and then continued on to the living room to collect your supplies and remove your skirt. It took you a little while to figure out the harness. Last time Roger had helped you get set up so doing it on your own was a little confusing. You took a breath and reminded yourself you were a smart and capable woman and that you could figure out a simple sex toy on your own, and eventually got it on right. When you were comfortable you popped open the lube and spread more than you thought you’d need along the shaft of the toy. It still felt a little bizarre to look down and see a penis, even if it was obviously fake. The first time you’d tried it on you’d wondered aloud if the work you did for those living rough would have been easier to achieve if you had a real one and Roger had suggested you wear it to work one day and find out. You’d laughed at how ridiculous that was and the memory made you chuckle again as you double checked everything was in the right place.

Roger was in the kitchen when you arrived, standing at the bench with a cloth in his hand, humming to himself, though he seemed to have forgotten what he was meant to be doing. You stepped behind him and ran your hand up the inside of his thigh, over the stockings.

The humming stopped and he stilled, “Ma’am?”

“Bend over.”

He did as you asked, his chest and arms leaning on the bench.

You felt him up, letting your hands roam under his skirt, brushing over his cock and along his thigh and over his arse, making his shiver and whine. “Good thing this dress is so short, Dummy. Makes it so much easier for me. And it makes you look like a slut. You’re very hard by the way, does that mean you like it when I tell you what to do?”

His voice was soft when he spoke to the bench top, “Yes, Ma’am,”

“That’s good because I like telling you what to do. And you should be happy to know that I’m wet from watching my brainless maid working all day.”

“I am happy!”

“You are?”

“Mmhmm. Maybe I could help you Ma’am, I love cunt so much.”

“Aww Dummy,” you cooed, stroking your fingers through his hair, “That’s sweet of you to offer but it’s not what I want right now,” you took the fishnets in both hands and tugged until a rip formed right along the back, “For now I want you to stay bent over for me so I can use you. Just like I talked about before, remember?”

“When you said I’m yours to use how you want?”

“You do remember! Good boy!”

“And you said, ummmm,” he gasped as you moved his underwear aside and began slowly working the plug out of him, adding lube to make it easier

“Go one, what else did I say?” you asked as you pushed the plug back in, fucking him with it, adding more lube as necessary.

“Umm, you said they were the,” he stretched out the word as he thought hard, “oh! The co-com-bit-ons and that its, umm, my job to serve you?”

“Very good! That was so much to remember, I’m very impressed.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, Dummy. I think I’ll have to give you a reward for remembering it all so well.”

Roger looked over his shoulder at you, grinning, “Thank you Ma’am,”

“Alright, turn back around, I’m still going to use you. Because….?”

“Because I’m yours?”

“Good boy,” you pulled the plug free and placed it on the bench beside you. Squeezing some more lube onto your fingers you began spreading it over his arsehole.

“‘s cold,” he said softly to the bench.

“I know baby, but it won’t be for long. And I gotta make sure there’s enough so that I don’t hurt you. And then you’ll be all ready for my cock.”

Roger nodded, flattening himself on the bench as you lined up the tip of the dildo and slowly sank into him.

Roger made a high pitched keening noise and you reached out to stroke his hair again as he adjusted.

“You okay, baby?” you asked letting the stern act drop for a moment.

Roger nodded, “yeah, ‘m okay. Just feels funny.”

“But good though?”

“Mmhmm. Good.”

“Good. I want you to like it. It’s more fun when you do.”

“I do!” as if to prove it he pushed his hips back, making you sink a little deeper.

“I can see that,” you laughed, “I’m gonna fuck you now, okay Dummy, and you’re going to enjoy it, right?”

He nodded, whining as you pulled your hips back slowly and then thrust forward again, figuring out your rhythm and adjusting to the sort of muscle movement it required. As you got more comfortable with it you let yourself be a little firmer, grasping Roger’s waist and fucking him harder, drawing more gasps and whines and moans from him. You varied your speed, sometimes faster and sometimes slower, keeping Roger from knowing exactly what you would do next (and giving yourself a break every so often). He’d taken your instruction to enjoy it to heart though. His fingernails scraped along the top of the bench as he tried to ground himself, rocking his hips back against you whenever you slowed.

“I want you to cum, Dummy. Rub your cock through your pretty sheer panties.”

“Th-through?”

“Over your panties.”

“Um,”

You stilled your hips and pulled out of him so you could grab his hand and lift his skirt, placing his palm over his cock, “now rub.”

He nodded, swallowing hard as he began to stroke himself. His hand stilled as you plunged into him again but a warning word made him remember what you wanted and he shakily followed your orders as you fucked him hard.

“How does it feel, Maid, being used for my entertainment?”

Roger babbled something incomprehensible in response. You couldn’t tell if it was just noise or if he’d been trying to form words but it was hot either way.

“C’mon, show me how much you like being my pretty little fuck doll. Be the pathetic little slut I know you are, and cum.” You panted between the words but Roger didn’t seem to notice or if he did he didn’t care. It must have sounded authoritative enough because a few seconds later he was moaning, his fingers twitching and legs shaking as he came. You slowed to a stop and replaced the dildo with his plug again before fixing his underwear and smoothing down his skirt.

“There, all pretty again,”

“Thank you Ma’am,” he sighed.

You patted his head, “Finish up cleaning off the benches in here and I’ll have another job for you.” You walked off, releasing a long breath once you were out of his hearing.

In the time it took you to get out of the harness, put your skirt back on, throw the dildo into a sink of hot water and relocate the bell, Roger achieved very little. He hadn’t moved from where you’d bent him over though he had stood up and grabbed his cloth again, drawing circles with it over the benchtop. When you came back to get him for his next job he was shifting from foot to foot.

“What’s the matter, Dummy?”

“Nothing,”

“Are you sure?”

He nodded though he didn’t meet your eye.

“Tell me.”

“My panties…”

“Aww, is it a bit uncomfortable?”

He nodded vigorously.

“Well maybe I can distract you.” You rang the bell and watched as his eyes glazed over and his hips jolted. “The bed needs to be made Dummy. Go on, off you go.”

He nodded and hurried off, his heels clicking against the wooden floorboards, his step awkward as he squirmed in discomfort. You followed him and showed him where to get a clean sheet from, watching as he pottered around the bed pulling off all the bedding, throwing them into a pile on the floor. Putting a new fitted sheet on the mattress seemed to be too hard a task though. It was almost cartoonish how much he struggled, placing the wrong corner of the sheet on the wrong corner of the bed and then somehow repeating the same mistake when he tried to turn the sheet around. He wouldn’t stand still, uncomfortably dancing around in his cum soaked underwear, getting more and more frustrated as the corner he thought he’d got on flew up when he tried to fit the next one. Every so often you jangled the bell under the guise of getting his attention to give him a helpful tip or reprimand him for taking so long, but it had the added effect of turning him on more than he already was, his face flushed and his eyes begging. You let him continue for a few minutes and then, when he next turned in response to your bell, you surprised him by pushing him onto the mattress.

“Ma’am?” he asked, voice trembling as you positioned yourself on his thigh and pushed his dress up.

“You made such a mess before, didn’t you? Ruined your panties and I’m afraid it’s spread to your pretty dress,” you showed him the patches on the inside of the skirt from where it had rubbed against the sheer fabric of his knickers and been stained. “Lucky for you I like messy little sluts. And” you palmed him roughly, “I think you like it too. Already hard again?”

Roger shook his head but tilted his head back and whined.

You placed your hand over his throat, “Don’t lie to me, Maid. I can see it; I can feel it. You’re a dirty little slut who gets off on being my property. My dumb little fuck doll.” You punctuated the last sentence by grinding against his thigh with each word, squeezing his length through his stained underwear. “I’m going to make you cum again now and if you’re good I might see about letting you eat me out. I did promise you a reward earlier,”

“Please,” Roger whimpered, “I’ll make you feel so, so good.”

“I know, Dummy. But not yet.” You squeezed his throat at the same time you rubbed your hand over his cock, choking off the moan that had begun to build. Roger squirmed under you as you wanked him off, cooing at him about how pretty he looked and how wet it was making you. Each stroke along his shaft was accompanied by a breathy whine or moan, his head tilted back and his eyes fluttering shut. It was always fun to watch Roger be pushed towards release when he was tranced. It was fun when he wasn’t hypnotised either but there was something about taking his brain away that made him more animated and vocal. He babbled at you again, his hand grabbing your wrist as he got closer, his back arching as he tried to buck his hips up into you.

“Good boy, good Dummy,” you praised him as he finished, able to feel the warmth of his release fill the material again as you kept stroking him, milking every drop you could. He whined loudly as he became more sensitive, but you kept toying with him until tears began leaking from the corners of his eyes.

“Alright, Dummy, stay there while I take my skirt off.”

Roger remained lying where you left him, so you gave him a soft kiss and wiped away his tears, praising him a little more, before you swung your leg over his face and finally let him have what he wanted.

It was as if you’d told him he’d won the lottery. He just about cheered as he thanked you repeatedly and then wrapped his arms around your thighs to pull you down onto his tongue. You had to stick out an arm to try and steady yourself as he devoured you, excitedly tracing your lips with his tongue, sucking them into his mouth. He hummed and whimpered against you and used his hands to encourage you to rock yourself against his mouth, spreading your wetness across his face. At one point, so giddy with joy, he giggled, and you jolted at the bizarre tickling sensation of his breath. But that just seemed to spur him on as he licked and sucked every inch of your cunt he could reach. You weren’t sure if his end goal was to make you cum or if he just got very excited and enthusiastic about pussy but, either way, the result was the same. It was impossible to hold back your release as his tongue slid along your folds and his lips latched onto you. He hummed as you gasped and tensed above him, refusing to stop until you pried his hands from your thighs and let yourself fall back to the bed. He pouted as if he wanted to throw a tantrum at having his favourite food taken away, but you managed to make him smile by telling him how incredible you felt and how good he was.

He let you lie down next to him and listened quietly as you talked him out of the trance, reminding him who he was and the reality of your situation. You waited as Roger opened his eyes, stroking his hair back from his face softly as everything returned to him.

“Wow,” was the first thing he said, “That was,” he cleared his throat and pushed himself to sit up, “that was something.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean, a very fun something,” he hurried to clarify so you wouldn’t worry, “I take it you enjoyed yourself too?”

You laughed and nodded, “Definitely. This is going to sound bad but I like being mean to you.”

“I get it,” he leaned over to kiss you softly, “I like being mean to you too.”

“And the pegging and free use stuff? All of that was okay? How do you feel now?”

“Oh, better than okay. That was brilliant. We’re definitely playing with them more in the future. Bit sore now and I really, really want to get out of this thong. Also take the plug out.”

“I can arrange that. D’you want some help with the plug?”

“Yes please.” Roger shifted onto his stomach, trying to relax so you could peel off the underwear and slowly wiggle the plug out of his arse, “Add these knickers to the list of ones I’ve ruined though.”

“That’s only cause I get such a kick out of making you cum in your pants.”

He hummed, wincing a little as the plug slipped all the way out, “y’know one of these days I’m going to wake up from a trance and decide to gag you with whatever underwear you made me destroy while I keep eating you out. I still have a bit of a lingering need to have my head between your legs and I do so enjoy overstimulating you.”

“Save that for a special occasion,” you laughed, giving his bum a tap to let him know he could roll over, “C’mon, shall I run us a bath?”

Roger nodded and let you pull him up, kissing you softly before he stood on slightly wobbly legs followed you out of the bedroom.

#my writing #my blurbs #or rather #my fics #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor smut #roger taylor imagine #lord have mercy #i need to lie down for 12 years after this #Anonymous #blurb advent 2020

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adhdsix · 3 years

Text

i was playing around on this site for references n stuff then ended up making this guy and im ... kinda attached to him ..... i still need a name for him tho

lots more under cut >:]

all the photos i have of him here! :] he has a rat companion and also a beloved rusty shovel he uses for violence, other than that i tried to make him pretty simplistic bc i suck at details n stuff eheh

i’ll probably change up some things but heres some notes abt him so far! - instead of an actual top he just has a bunch of bandages all over his torso/arms and for his legs he just has shorts (w/ a buckle) - also little leather cuffs on his wrists - im thinking of making him some sort of fox demon, and if i get invested enough i might expand that and make it a whole species - he’s got two rock-like horns on his head and a red gem !! atm these dont have too much signifigance but i’ll probably try to think of somethin - he’s got spikes all the way down his head and back, stopping just before his tail. the spikes on his head usually stay up but the ones on his back are almost always slicked down (they aren’t in any of the photos or on the model, but they look basically like the ones on his head, just a little slimmer)

- whenever he’s alerted/spooked/excited, the spikes on his back go up, similar to hair standing up, as a method of looking bigger/more scary (despite him already being pretty tall, like 6′ something idk yet) and the ones on his head perk up a bit too :]

- on the site his paws look more like hands and i couldn’t rlly find a way to change that but imagine his paws more like. well, paws - he has a rat companion!! just a lil dark brown rat that’s always nearby that he probably named bingus (credit 2 ghaiza for the idea hehe) - he always has his shovel with him, usually on his back but sometimes he carries it (he also probably gave it a name but i dont have one yet hafhsdjf) - his tail is very VERY bushy. this is not a very important detail i just wanted to make it clear (hes super fluffy all over tbh) - other little details are one of his eyebrows is slit, he sometimes wears his bandana over his face, and he has lil gold earrings. also its kinda hard to see but his stomach is white like his snout ! also it wasnt an option (that i could find anyway) to change parts of his tail but the tip actually fades to black kinda like his ears and back paws - he is just a silly goofy guy!!!! hes very nice but can be scary whether its intentional or not bc of just how huge he is (i dont have much of a comparison but he is Big) thats all i cant hink of rn but hopefully i’ll add more or talk abt him more !!!! i usually dont get too invested in my ocs even if i rlly want to so i hope i do him justice this time,,,, idk how many other people r interested in hearing abt him at all but i’d love 2 hear others ideas eheh

#six sketches #ocs #ummmm oh no #fox #foxes #SEE I NEVER KNOW HOW TO TAG THESE THINGSS #oc #oc art #digital art #man.#if i expand him/his world i might make a tag for him ehehe

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i-may-be-stupit · 3 years

Text

Shigaraki x Silly!Reader

As usual, this is rather gender-neutral and the horny got me because I fukn love Shiggy 🥵😍 but yeah, enjoy!

You typed up a report of the latest incident between Endeavor and the league of Villains. Well, actually, you were just editing your boss's writing. She was a journalist and you were her assistant. You rolled your eyes, reading through it and fixing any grammar mistakes or typos you came across. Why the hell is she making Endeavor seem so god damn perfect? I mean, when you first met him, you told the guy a joke and he hasn't stopped glaring at you ever since. You rolled your eyes at just the thought of that fuck-faced jackass.

Not only were you the editor, but you were also the secretary in the news office building which is a whole different job as it is. You blew a bubble from your gum and turned your music in your earbuds up a bit more, since the day was going slow. Yeah, there'd be a scoop here and there but not a lot.

You looked up to see a guy with red eyes and a black hoodie grinning evily while saying stuff to you. You just stared at him until he finished talking. He looked at you and you looked at him. You spat your gum in a tissue then took out your earbuds. You smiled softly at the man. "I'm sorry, you said you wanted a visitors' pass?"

The man looked at you with a blank stare at first. "You didn't hear anything I just said?" You shook your head. He frowned and tilted his head in annoyance, "I was talking for like 3 minutes straight." You just blinked. "I just explained my whole reasoning for kidnapping you for information on Endeavor."

You smiled at him, "Im sorry sir, I'm just the secretary, but the information desk is on floor three, just take that elevator to the right and-"

"What the fuck, bitch?!" He opened his arms wide in anger, "Do you not recognize me from the news?!"

You put a finger on your chin and tapped it in thought for a moment, before clicking your tongue and snapping your finger, "Ah, you must be a pro hero or something!" His jaw dropped. "Wow, no wonder youre so handsome!" You took the bottle of lotion out of your desk's drawer and offered him some. "If you're going on an interview you could use some of this though!" He glared at you before snapping his fingers, and thats when you found out who he is.

The entire League of villains showed up and your eyes widened in fear. The man known as Shigaraki Tomura laughed harshly with a gleam in his eyes, "Recognize me yet, (Y/N) (L/N)?!"

You stared at him again in fear. You then snorted, "Hank the handy man?" And thats when he lunged at you, only for Shigaraki to fall into one of Kurogiri's portals. You laughed with tears in your eyes as the burnt up goth boy snickered. Kurogiri elbowed Dabi and Dabi wiped away a bloody tear in his own eye as he held your arms behind your back.

Dabi chuckled quietly in your ear a small, "You gotta teach me some insults if you live." And you snorted as you consentualy walked into a portal, not even mad at being kidnapped.

You were in what seemed to be a lounge area, seated on a chair with your arms handcuffed to the back of you. You looked around, innocently smiling, "Wowie, nice place you guys got here!" Spinner looked at Dabi confused as you started humming. "So, uh, whatcha need me for?"

Mange spoke up, "Wait, how are you so calm about this?"

You chuckled, "Hey, this chair is comfy, I'm off from work now, and I got to see a cute guy up-close and personal!"

Dabi looked at you with a straight face. "No thank you."

You rose an eyebrow at him, "Dont flatter yourself, Rat, I'm talking about the one that tried to kill me." Shigaraki walked into the room, slightly pissed off as Kurogiri rubbed his back. "There he is! The handsome one!"

Shigaraki glared at you. "Don't patronize me." You were about to speak, but he cut you off before even getting the chance, "You're working with Yuki Ino, the Journalist who's been interviewing pro heros, including Endeavor." You nodded, not understanding if that was supposed to be taken as a question or not. "Tell me everything about what's happened to All Might, why he retired, and how to end Endeavor, including the Pro-heros' plans to take down my organization."

You stared at him for a good minute before sneezing, "Sorry, what did you say? I disasociated."

Shigaraki twitched before scratching his neck violently. "What do you know about the number 1 pro hero?!"

"What?!" You looked at him in utter confusion. "I cant even remember what I had for breakfast, how the fuck do you expect me to remember anything about Enslaver?"

The red eyed male scratched his neck faster. "Endeavor."

You looked in even more confusion, "What the fuck is that?"

Shigaraki pulled you by your shirt closer to him in pure anger, "His hero name! Its Endeavor, not Enslaver!"

You blushed and fluttered your lashes, "Wow, the way your crimson gems glisten even in such dim lighting is so mesmerizing..." You puckered your lips and moved forward, but Shigaraki just let go of your shirt in utter disgust.

"I dont speak Wattpad."

You smiled at him happily, "I mean, I know that I should be scared because you're hella intimidating, but geez louis, your eyes are pretty! If you don't end up killing me can I be your boo thang?" You grinned and thats when he lunged at wwnnaqqa again, only for Kurogiri to put himself in front of you, again, so Shigaraki just fell into his portal, again.

Kurogiri just quietly mumbled out a small, "Lets take a break." Before going to the bar and throwing back a shot of some alcohol.

Later:

Shigaraki crossed his arms in front of the League with you in another room. "She was trying to seduce me like a slut to get out of death! Playing with my emotions?! Like I'm an ,idiot?! How dare she?!"

rtserrr

Dabi sat back, watching as Toga practiced her knife throwing on Twice. The burt man shrugged nonchalauntly, "She seemed legit to me."

Toga and Twice both nodded with a little, "Mhm," as Toga threw a knife at an apple on Twice's head.

Shigaraki just frowned. "Have you people seen me?" They all stopped what they were doing, looked at their boss and then put their hands up to their faces while cringing.

Kurogiri walked in, dragging you in a chair behind him. He placed you right in front of Shigaraki and you smiled awkwardly at him, "Sorry if i made you feel uncomfortable, Mister Shigaraki, I just can't help myself when I see a cute guy like you, though!" You giggled and shrugged as Twice awed at the nonexistent budding romance.

Shigaraki looked at you with disgust and concern. "You seriously think that I'm cute?"

You tilted your head cutely with a small smile"That's why I asked you out, what the hell?" You chuckled softly and Shigaraki blushed with a frown as he stared at you.

He scratched at his neck, took a shot of alcohol and sighed. "Just tell me everything you know about Endavor, okay?"

You frowned deeply with a small groan, "Ugh! He's kinda a asshole! I told him "Good morning, Teletubby Sun" and he just glarred really hard at me!" You frowned and pouted before mumbling out a small, "I mean, it was just a joke..."

Shigaraki pinched the bridge of his nose in utter frustration while Dabi fucking died of laughter in the background, "Anything actually important?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, "Hey! That's totally important!"

A weak, hourse, "it is!" came from Dabi and you grinned.

"See, he gets it!"

He glared daggers into you and got closer to your face. "Do you not understand the danger you're in?" He snarled. "I can kill you right now if you dont submit."

You poked your lips out jokingly before giggling out, "I get it, but who's to say I don't wanna die?" You winked at him.

Shigaraki stared at you calmly, not leaving your goofy grin. "Everyone out of the room. Now." And everyone did as they were told and left, all praying for you.

Shigaraki silently cut your restraints and you started rubbing your wrists while smiling, "Thank you! You know, that was starting to hurt-"

He grabbed you by your hair and flung you onto the floor. The wind was knocked out of you and to make matters worse, he placed a foot on your chest, glarring down at you. "This isn't a game, you stupid fucking cunt." Shigaraki laughed darkly, seeing your jokester smile twist into a horrified grit as you struggled to breath. "I mean, are you dumb or something?! Your worthless life is on the line and you really couldn't care less?! "His hands covered his mouth, holding back another laugh, though you could hear it in his voice, "You're so fucking pathetic, I don't even feel like wasting my time killing you~!" He pushed his foot down harder.

You gasped for air, clawing at his foot to pry it off. "S-Shigaraki, sir-" A crack was echoed as he pushed his foot down harder on your now broken sternum. You scream out as tears fell from your face from the pain, "Please, p-please remove your f-foot..."

Shigaraki only laughed harder, cupping a hand over his cheek, ring finger raised, "Oh all of a sudden you care about your life, huh?" He straddled you, pinning you down with your wrists in one hand, and your neck in his other. "You think you can just flirt with me like the little slut you are and get off Scott free, huh?" You choked and Shigaraki drew closer to your ear, "Where's that attitude gone now, huh? Oh, can you not speak anymore? Tell me, please, how many dicks have you taken already. How the hell did you get a job," his face scrunched up in fury, "at a god damn Hero News agency without knowing shit about any heros, huh?! You probably slept with everyone there. Didnt you? Flirting with them to get what you want just like with me?"

Your face was hot and you were crying and choking at his words and actions, "N-No! That's not-" you gasped hard, unable to breath properly, "not me at all!"

Shigaraki loosened his grip on your neck. He glarred deep into your soul. "Then why the hell were you flirting with me back there? I'm not dumb, (Y/N), I'm a very fucking capable man!"

You smiled awkwardly, thankful that you could breath a little better. "I just think you're HANDsome!" Shigaraki's cheeks tinted pink as he glared at you. He let his grip go completely as you choked and coughed before looking up with a smile, "And this position... w-with you on top of me is really lewd, so can you maybe..." You trailed off as he just stared harder at you.

Shigaraki blinked, expressionless. "I'm pinning you down on the verge of killing you and the only think you can think of is getting fucked by me?" You looked away, struggling a bit with the feeling of awkwardness and arousal. He smirked, feeling your neck get hotter. "You really are a little fucking whore aren't you?" And with that, he softly kissed your lips.

Your face went hot as you looked up at him. "What was that for?" He kissed you again, this time longer. "S-shigaraki..." You pouted and looked away. "Theres something I should tell you..."

"Hm?" He tilted his head with a smirk, waiting for you to tell him that you're still a virgin.

"You shouldve taken my lotion earlier." You laughed out and he started choking you again. "Joking- J- Joking!" Shigaraki glarred down at you before tongue kissing you much more rough. You moaned as it thrashed against your tongue, saliva dripping out the side of your mouth. Shigaraki bit your lip softly before dragging his tongue down your chin and onto your neck. He licked and sucked on it as you bit your bottom lip. Tomura came back up and tongue kissed you for only a second before grabbing your shirt with all five fingers. You gasped and covered up your bra. "H-Hey! Gentlemen ask for permission first!" You frowned and he just grabbed you by your jaw.

He mocked you with a fake pouty voice, "Oh, that's my bad for not being a fucking gentleman. Can I pwease fuck you??" Tomura rolled his eyes, "Now shut the fuck up and let me suck on your nipples." Shigaraki's mouth immediately locked with your left nipple as his fingers played with your right. He laughed, hearing you softly mumble his name. His mouth left your chest with a small pop and he looked down at you with a smirk, "Dont be shy saying my name, (Y/N); I'm gonna need you to get used to screaming it anyways." And with that, he licked his lips then placed his tongue on your torso, dragging it all the way down to your work pants.

He decenigrated your pants and underwear happily. Shigaraki brought his face to your slit and took a hard lick, a finger shoving itself inside of your tight hole. You moaned loudly, confused. "Tomura, a warning next time!?" He just pumped his finger inside of you slowly as his tongue played with your privates. You moaned while holding his head down on you, your fingers twisted in his hair, as he sucked you off like a cherry. You panted heavily and he stuck another finger in you. Shigaraki then lifted his head off you.

"I'd warn you that time, but you're kind of suffocating me, so maybe, don't fucking push down so hard!" You frowned and just pushed his head back in between your thighs. He kissed and licked more, groaning whenever you'd thrust into his mouth deeper. Shigaraki chuckled at how you'd only get quiet when hes making you moan.

You shivered and groaned, coming closer and closer to your climax. Shigaraki noticed and immediately pulled off of you. He wipped his mouth with the back of his hand and grabbed you by the hair. "Alright, slut, you've had your fun." He pulled you towards him and you fell on the floor, right in front of his groin. Tomura sat, grinned down at you with one leg up, "You gonna just stare or are you sucking me off?"

You rolled your eyes before pulling his pants and boxers down. Oh wow, you were not expecting this... You put a hand over your mouth and blushed hard. He was only semi hard and already a good 8 inches, what the hell?? It was thin, but long, kind of like the rest of him.

Shigaraki frowned down at you, blushing hard, "What? Is something wrong with it?? I-I've never done this before, asshole, so stop making me feel bad!"

You felt a smile rise onto your lips. Is he... getting flustered? You chuckled and looked up at him, pumping slowly, "It's just intimidating." You licked the tip and gulped, feeling a bit nervous, "But, I'll try to take it all in, okay?"

You placed your lips on his tip and suck it as your hands jerked him off. He groaned, grabbing your head with 4 fingers. You gradually took more and more into your mouth, using your hands for whatever didn't fit. You bobbed your head up and down on him, speeding up. Shigaraki groaned your name.

"F-Fuck, Y/N, you really know what you're doing!" He pressed his hand on the back of your head harder, forcing more of him into you. You gagged and choked as Tomura just laughed, "God, you're taking it all in like a good little sex slave, aren't you?" You moaned at the name and shigaraki shuttered, "Mm, your moans feel so fucking good on my cock!" He breathed harder, "Fuck, Y/N, I need you to touch yourself while sucking me." You brought your hand to your slit and rubbed at it, moaning. Shigaraki groaned, "Fuck, Just like that!"

You gagged and moaned on his dick, feeling it twitch in your mouth. A lewd little 'pop' echoed in the room as you let off. Shigaraki frowned and you gave him a cheeky grin, "No sticky icky for you!" He groaned in annoyance.

"God, why are you like this?!?" He grabbed your arm and threw you roughly on the bed. Before you knew it, Shigaraki was already inside of you. Your face went hot as he fucked you doggy style.

You screamed, "A warning!!! We've been over this!!!" He responded with a slap on your ass.

Tomura rode your ass, grinding into you and groaning while doing it. "Fuck off, Y/N, you're a horny mess just like me, dumbass!" You screamed his name as his thrusts became faster and deeper. Shigaraki pulled both of your wrists back and down, making you kneel, your back pressed against his chest as he fucked into you. "Fuck, you're so fucking tight..." Shigaraki sloppily kissed your neck. You breathed harder as his dick hit the spot over and over. Shigaraki flipped you over onto your back. You laid underneath him as he paused. Tomura blushed harder and looked away, "I-I wanna really savor this..." he smirked, glaring in your eyes, "Plus I wanna know what you look like, full of my cum!"

You were flustered and giggling, "Its the ✨mood switch✨ for me-"

Tomura placed a hand over your mouth, "No. You just lost your speaking privileges."

Shigaraki grinded into you slowly. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and drool seeped from your lips. Shigaraki held your waist, pulling you whenever he's press himself deep inside of you. You were speechless from the pleasure. You moaned and whined as his body slowly moved with yours.

You pressed the back of your hand to your face, feeling a bit embarrassed at the change of atmosphere. It was so easy to just enjoy him fucking you silly and laughing and everything, but you couldn't bring yourself to feel any other emotion rather than pleasure muxed in with something new.

Shigaraki placed his forehead against yours and breathed harder, "I-I'm getting there, Y/N..." He let out a breathy moan and your legs shaked. Tomura kissed you softly as well. "A-Ah, you're almost there t-too, right?"

You nodded, feeling a knot in your stomach. You moaned and Shigaraki pulled out, cumming all over you. You moaned, climaxing too.

You were covered in cum and panting. You couldn't even find words to say. It just felt so good. Shigaraki cuddled up to you. He smiled and kissed your cheek. "I'm giving you your speaking privileges back now." You stayed silent, your face hot. It was hard for you to be serious, but God damn. Tomura looked at you a bit concerned, "You okay-"

"That was amazing."

He looked surprised before laughing hard. "Did I really leave you speechless?" You nodded, silently. Shigaraki kissed your lips, "That sucks because, even though you're annoying, I kinda like you."

Your eyes widened. He liked your jokes and stupid comments?! Your mouth became ajar. "I-I..." You just closed your mouth, staring at him.

Shigaraki placed his arm over you. He smiled, "Lets hang out tomorrow."

You smiled back.

16 notes · View notes

acelikesturtles · 4 years

Text

“For The Love of Cake”

Prompt: Bakery AU - Mikey x Gender-Neutral Y/N

Warnings: Profanity

Word Count: 3,885

A/N: Okay so despite what the screenshot looks like, the original prompt came to be from a conversation on discord, but @wacheypena was the one that officially came up with the prompt, @dw-im-just-sad just sent it to me because I consistently have the memory of a goldfish, so credit for the idea totally goes to wachey. @dw-im-just-sad also wrote her own version of this prompt so go check it out on her blog and give her some love!

“Fuck.”

A blast of warm air from the oven hit your face and pushed the stray hairs out of your eyes. Despite how delicious the freshly baked poppy seed muffins smelled, there was no way in hell that these met the signature Paisley's standard. You tucked a loose strand of hair back behind your ear with your free hand as you set the tray down on the steel counter behind the oven. Two other perfectly top-notch batches of muffins from 45 minutes ago sat only a couple inches away, freed from the confines of the muffin tray and sitting pretty on the tabletop cooling rack. You popped one of the new muffins out of the tray and set it on the counter as a half-pout began tugging at the corners of your mouth. All the muffins here were caved in on the top and looked dense and chewy instead of moist and soft like they were supposed to.

You racked your brain, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. You poked the muffin with a toothpick to check the center then sliced it open with a fork to check the inside. Little tendrils of steam escaped from the muffin’s tortured core; a squashed, condensed, pathetic looking center that seemed ashamed of its own existence sitting beside the high and mighty rises that all its cousins had managed to achieve. You figured that in a moment of absent-minded baking you must have put too much baking powder into the batter, thus creating the chewy texture and the catastrophic cave-in on the tops. With a firm frown and a short sigh through the nose in defeat, you picked up the muffin tray and headed towards the back door quietly.

Normally you wouldn’t be so secretive about bad muffins and tossing them in the bin outside, but the manager, Heather, had been cracking down on all the wasted ingredients that went into batches of bread and cupcakes and muffins and cookies that ultimately ended up ruined beyond relief by new-hires. Admittedly these muffins weren’t as bad of a mistake as per the other new-hires’ usual (like leaving whipping cream mixing until it turned into butter), but these sad excuses for poppy seed muffins were still a recognizable mistake that could easily be attributed to you rather than Rosetta, who always managed to forget at least one egg when she made cake batter.

You opened the door to the back alley behind Paisley’s and kicked the rubber doorstep underneath the gap to hold it in place. You balanced the tray in one hand and used the other to lift the lid off the unofficially named “Fuck-Up” can. With a few small taps against the rim of the bin, the muffins tumbled out of the tray and into the trash, only leaving behind the faintest lingering scent as you returned the lid. You wiped the sweat that had gathered on your brow with the back of your hand. Looking up, the sky had turned a shade of pinkened violet that felt reminiscent of the childhood summer sunsets you had enjoyed back home. You checked your watch. Five minutes until the end of your shift. You hauled yourself back inside and began cleaning up your work station with the torn and stained damp rag assigned to your work space.

Your mind felt full with thoughts, heavy even. Five months in New York and aside from securing a relatively nice apartment with only a mildly concerning roach problem and an “only kinda-severely-cramped” bathroom, you weren’t feeling as if you were making much progress like you had maybe anticipated when the opportunity to move had first arisen. You had moved, after all, in the hopes of starting your own café. It would be something small and quiet, a safe space in the heart of the city for people to come and bask in the welcoming atmosphere and enjoy the soft sounds of Lo-Fi playing above their warm cups of coffee and freshly baked cinnamon rolls. You’d donate food to the homeless on Wednesday evenings after closing time, and on Sunday nights the café would host Bingo and Trivia competitions for charity like they did at some of the local bars. The thought of being able to make your dream come true here made you feel immensely grateful to be on the path your heart had been calling you to. Paisley’s was better than being stuck in your hometown selling discount jeans. Right now though, working these grueling hours made you feel even farther away from the finish line than you had thought it would when you started. Rather than a feeling of excited and determined immersion in a career area that would someday be a part of the larger puzzle you longed to complete, Paisley’s felt like a chore that truly nobody enjoyed aside from Heather’s domineering managerial attitude.

You tossed the dirty rag into the laundry bin on the other side of the kitchen and began making your way towards the time clock to punch out for the night. Your aching feet were relieved just knowing that rest was coming soon.

“You headed out for the night?” A coworker asked, bumping into your shoulder while you punched in your employee number.

“Yep,” You stifled a yawn. “Poppy seed muffins at my work station still need to be stored for the catering thing tomorrow, so have somebody do that when you close.”

“Sure thing, on my way to do that right now.” They responded.

You finished clocking out and lazily shuffled back through the kitchen towards the rear door again, now fully caught in a yawn. You opened the door and took two steps outside before waiting to hear the slam and the click of the lock behind you, finalizing the official end of your shift. Now that you were outside though, something felt off. You glanced down at the “Fuck-Up” bin. The lid was ajar instead of firmly placed like it had been when you had messed with it earlier. Perplexed, you picked up the lid and peered inside the can only to find it empty of the muffins you had tossed in there before. Bizarre, but not unheard of. Paisley’s didn’t donate any of their leftover food to homeless shelters and you had heard from your coworkers that the homeless often peruse through the large dumpster behind the bakery for scraps hoping that the trashed food wasn’t as bad as employees thought. You could hardly blame them for trying. One company’s terrible batch of cookies is another man’s saving grace. At least someone was making use of your mistake.

You yawned again, shuffling down the concrete steps towards your neon green motorbike. You knelt down to unlock the chain holding it to the company bike rack, absently humming some commercial jingle that had been stuck in your head for the last day or two. Once the lock was completely freed you stuffed it into your bag, kicked the kickstand back up, and fished your keys out of your pocket to turn the ignition. Just as the motor began to sputter to life, you heard shuffling feet and a faint and stifled cough echo in the alley around you. It was near impossible to not feel spooked or even just a little bothered at the thought that the person from earlier could still be lurking in the alley, even if you had no real proof that they were harmful. You had heard too many horror stories and seen too many documentaries to be foolish. Not taking any chances, you hopped onto your motorbike and immediately hit the gas, taking a sharp turn into the street and not daring to look behind you. You could have just been paranoid of course, squirrels and other animals liked to dig through their trash and make noise in the alley too, but when confronted with the silliness of the concept of hundreds of rats carrying the muffins away you found yourself instead hoping that the person that had fished through their trash had gotten what they needed (and that they wouldn’t still be there by morning).

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

The next morning as you came up the back steps to the kitchen you noticed a bright yellow post-it note stuck to the lid of the “Fuck-Up” bin that hadn’t been there the night before. At first you hesitated to read the note. There was an anxious pang in your gut that made you feel uneasy about it in a way that you couldn’t put you finger on. You reached your hand forward to open the door to the kitchen, but found your hand only hovering over the knob with no real intent of going in yet. You needed the closure that would likely come with reading the note, even if it was a little intimidating, the thought of someone interacting with you by way of your ruined poppy seed muffins. You plucked the sticky note from the rusty lid and held it up to your eyes, squinting to read the chicken scratch.

“Hey dude! These ones were not my favorites but still yummy! Get me some oatmeal cookies next time, the crispy ones! Those are fuckin’ delicious! -MC Mikey.”

Your face scrunched up in confusion. Was this person seriously asking for more rejects? The only crispy oatmeal cookies that Paisley’s made that ended up in that bin were overcooked or half burnt, unless…did they think that this was a donation bin? Confused, you pushed your way through entrance and into the kitchen, claimed an empty work station, and headed over to the time clock to punch in your employee number. You were suddenly feeling a little bit more concerned for this individual than you did afraid of them. Maybe this was just someone ridiculously naïve. Maybe this was a kid that didn’t know any better and liked the smell that the trash behind Paisley’s had. Your sympathy had kicked in alongside a compulsive desire to bake those requested oatmeal cookies, and once you’d returned to your station you began flipping through the company cookbook for the recipe so you could sneak a mini-batch in-between actual requests.

After about 20 minutes, you pulled the first batch of cookies out of the oven and pushed the next sheet in. The smell was heavenly, an intoxicating mix of warm vanilla and cinnamon that made you salivate at first whiff. You picked up a cookie to check for the soft texture that was so characteristic for the recipe and sighed in relief when they pulled apart just like desserts did in those viral Instagram videos, softly and delicately. Hopefully these cookies would become this stranger’s new favorite. Whoever this was could have the experience of a real oatmeal cookie without the element of burnt edges interfering with the flavor, and the thought of being able to provide that joy was enough to put a little more pep in your step than was there before.

Several hours, a lunch break, and a couple run-ins with your bitch-of-a-manager later, you found yourself in front of the time clock again with a small Ziploc baggie of oatmeal cookies secured in your bag. They wouldn’t be as fresh as they were when they first came out of the oven unfortunately, but they’d still taste better than burnt and crispy cookies--that you were at least certain of. Once you’d finished punching in your employee number you made your way towards the back door as quickly as you could with aching arches and a stiff lower back. You stepped out onto the concrete stairs and waited for the latch behind you to click before making your way down the steps with one hand firmly grasped on the chipped railing beside you while the other dug around in your half-zipped bag for your keys and the Ziploc filled with cookies.

Your sneakers hit the alley and you let out a loud yawn while rolling your neck from shoulder to shoulder. You turned towards the “Fuck-Up” bin and gently placed the baggie on top of the lid. Should you have left a note? Would this person even care if there was a note as long as the cargo inside was sealed away from the elements? You let a puff of air out through your nose and let the worry roll of your shoulders as you turned back towards where you had parked your bike, keys jangling in hand. Just as you were about to reach your bike, you heard the shuffling sound again. Without hesitation you turned on your heel and looked back towards the garbage bins. Nothing had changed, nobody was there, but the noise of muffled footsteps said otherwise. This time you didn’t feel like running as much as you did like investigating the source of the noise to ease your curiosity to rest. You kept one hand firmly gripped on your pepper spray, and slowly stepped forwards, stopping at about the halfway point between you and the trash.

“Anybody there?” You called out. Your voice sounded particularly sick and crackly from the long work day. There weren’t any response and the sounds in the alley went dead quiet to underscore the sound of your own breathing instead. “If you’re the one who came by yesterday digging through our trash-” You started, wincing at your own condescending tone. You sounded so harsh, especially considering the fact that this could easily be a child based on what the handwriting had seemed like. “Sorry, I…I left you some oatmeal cookies. They’re on the lid.” You spoke softer, gesturing towards the “Fuck-Up” bin vaguely. The silence persisted. Now you were beginning to feel uneasy. The hairs on the back of your neck were practically standing up and you were beginning to think that you had either gone crazy or that maybe you were dealing with some kind of back-alley ghost.

Do ghosts even eat? Can ghosts even eat?

Without warning, a large hand partially cloaked by shadows broke free from the dumpster and began swiping in the general direction of where you had left the Ziploc bag. It would almost be comparable to a scene from a horror movie if the hand and the arm didn’t seem so clueless and desperate to get to the baggie. You fought back a smile and took a couple steps closer. You still had a grip on your concealed pepper spray just in case, but the thought of the stranger assaulting you was fading from the forefront of your mind. It wasn’t until you got close enough to see that this person’s hand was noticeably malformed—only two large fingers and a thumb—that fear was pushed onto the main burner once again. Clearly frustrated with the whole ordeal, the head and shoulders the appendage was attached to slammed up against the top of the dumpster and pushed the lid up against the wall behind him. That’s when he made almost immediate eye contact with you. Crystal blue eyes clashed against orange fabric and scaly green skin in a way that shocked your system to your core. This wasn’t a child, and it wasn’t a human, and it wasn’t, as far as you could gather, anywhere in between. A large shell was fused to his skin in a way that further broke your perception of reality as you tried to rationalize what you were seeing without thinking about costumes or special effects makeup or even aliens. You stood in shock for a moment, unblinking, watching as he strained to reach the baggie in front of him. He poked his tongue out and grunted as he stretched over the side of the dumpster, just barely missing the Ziploc with each swing of his arm.

“Dude, you could at least help!” He groaned, collapsing his upper body over the side of the dumpster in defeat.

You blinked and suddenly you were forced back into reality…or at least, whatever reality this was.

You took several more steps forward and snatched the Ziploc up in your hands, gently handing it to the…creature that was currently in the company dumpster. You had so many questions you needed to ask, too many questions, and without even opening your mouth the turtle began answering at least some of them one-by-one while shoving oatmeal cookies down his throat.

“I see you’re kiiiinda freaked out, and that’s okay! I get it, Mikey’s just so overwhelming to the ladies,” He said with a smug grin. “Turtle, mutant, ninja, sex god, what isn’t there to love angelcakes?” Your carefully baked batch of oatmeal cookies were disappearing in seconds, miniscule in comparison to the size and capacity of his stomach. “Oh, also?” He spoke through a mouthful of crumbs, spewing half-chewed chunks of oats and sugar all over the concrete beneath them. “These could use more cinnamon.”

“I-“ You hesitated for a moment. Your mind was filled to the brim with unfinished thoughts and rabbit trail theories about how Mikey himself was even possible (that is, if you weren’t dreaming) but they all came to a screeching halt when his comment about the cinnamon broke through your occupied mind. “Wait, really? I thought there was plenty, let me try that.” You huffed, snatching a cookie from one of his oversized, mutant hands. Within the first bite you were able to tell that he was right. The cinnamon flavor was more subtle than you had intended; a mere hint of warmth rather than the overwhelming comfort that you had been aiming for. “Oh. Yeah, I-I guess you’re right…Mikey.”

“Yeah, and those cupcakes the other day were-“

“Too much baking powder, I know,” You laughed and shook your head. “Those must’ve tasted gnarly, sorry,” You stopped mid-breath. “Wait. Cupcakes? Those were muffins.”

“Oooohh! So that’s why they didn’t come with frosting,” Mikey laughed. “Well that’s disappointing, I thought I was getting cupcakes. No wonder.” As the turtle crawled out from the dumpster with his empty Ziploc in hand, you became dwarfed beside him. He was tall, but not as menacing as you may have originally assumed. A half smile gradually worked its way onto your face as you looked up at him, trying to avoid grimacing at the smell of liquid garbage dripping all over his body.

“Next time I...I could make you cupcakes if you’d like.” You responded.

Mikey’s eyes looked alive with excitement as he nodded in complete agreement, musing aloud all his favorite flavors and fillings and frostings to you with a childlike delight. First there was snickerdoodle with extra cinnamon, then there was lemon meringue with more meringue than there was lemon. Red velvet with a whipped cream filling, double chocolate fudge with a gooey peanut butter center, tangy orange creamsicle with a tangerine wedge on top. You weren’t taking notes, but you figured that your personal investment in listening to a mutant turtle talk about his own takes on classic (and invented) flavors was enough to hold onto what he said in your memory, even if in the morning it may all seem like a hazy, drug-induced fever dream. You actually found yourself so intrigued with some of his flavor combinations and substitutions that you barely noticed that the grip you had been holding on the pepper spray had been entirely released, instead allowing that hand the freedom to gesture in a more relaxed manner as you articulated.

It wasn’t until the sound of a distant police siren echoing several streets away that the conversation stopped rather abruptly. The sound had grabbed the turtle’s attention in a way that stopped him in the middle of a sentence and replaced his excited expression with one of worry and concern. His eyes fell back towards you. You were searching his expression for a reason behind his troubled gaze just as much as you were looking for a clear answer behind what it was that made him who he was.

“Do you have a Sharpie?” He asked urgently. He looked behind him and over both of your shoulders nervously, as if he was waiting for someone to pounce, and that alone was enough to make you feel on edge again.

“Why?” Bewildered, you began digging in your bag again, searching for a permanent marker. You couldn’t find one but after clarifying that something similar might work, you managed to fish a red ink pen from the depths of your disorganized mess of a bag. Mikey snatched the pen from your hands, pulled the cap off with his teeth and spit it out onto the concrete, then stretched your forearm out in front of him. He scribbled a bunch of numbers rather messily onto your skin. He had accidentally smudged the undried ink a time or two and had to correct it, but when he was finished the string of numbers came out looking exactly like a standard, New-York area phone number. If this was a dream it sure was a detailed dream, you had to at least give it credit for that.

“My digits,” Mikey beamed while making the oh-so-stereotypical ‘call me’ gesture with his hand. “Call me, angelcakes. Unless you don’t want to, then like, don’t call me.” He shrugged. His confident aura practically dripped off of him as he began backing away into the shadows, shell nearly flush against the wall behind him. His hands rested on his holstered nunchakus as the police sirens faded away into the distance.

“Wait,” You faltered. Seeing him leave just as quickly as he had arrived made the flood of jumbled and confused thoughts come rushing back to you all at once. He couldn’t leave now, not when you were just beginning to get a grip on having him be a part of the same reality you were in. “Where are you going? What’s going on? What about the cupcakes?”

“Orange dreamsicle,” Mikey called back with a song in his voice. “Extra orange!” He said with a wink, while gesturing toward the cloth that covered his eyes.

Mikey had vanished into thin air, and just like that, you found yourself immersed in relative silence again. You pinched your forearm but didn’t wake up. You pulled on a singular lock of hair really hard, but didn’t wake up. Whatever you had just witnessed was still your reality, as evidenced by the smudgy red ink on your skin. You blinked once, then twice, then wiped the sweat off of your keys and your pepper spray and began shuffling towards your motorbike again. You turned your keys in the ignition, but when the engine started you didn’t feel the relief that you normally did when you were getting ready to head home from a grueling shift at work. If anything, your energy levels had peaked alongside your need to satiate your newfound curiosity aching in your bones. You pushed the kickstand up, removed the lock, pulled your phone out of your back pocket, and took your seat. You glanced down at your forearm again. The messy red ink was becoming clearer the more you stared at it. Perhaps it was just natural human tendencies at work, or maybe even fate, but the words just seemed to naturally tumble onto your keyboard once you’d copied the smudgy numbers into your contact list.

“Hey, Mikey right? I forgot to tell you my name. It’s Y/N.”

#authoring by ace #acelikesturtles #tmnt #tmnt 2012 #tmnt 2016 #bayverse tmnt #prompt

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enchanted-prose · 4 years

Text

The Unconventional Princess

anons in my ask box im so sorry and I will get your ficlets out soon! this is for my darling @ascendant-queen, because I know how much she loves Fink

Word count: 1,400

Characters: Fink, Fink’s rat, Snips, Buttons, and Grip (All original characters)

Notes: 1414, Fink is about 9 in this ficlet, a wee babey. Unedited! Also we were cheated because Fink deserved to take his sweet rat with him, and I was watching Ratatouille so its only fair that I write a rat fic. Don’t think about how difficult it would’ve been for Fink to give up the rat, and you’ll be fine.

Enjoy!

Fink was never the strongest, nor the biggest.

But he was small, and he was quick.

He couldn’t remember the name he’d been born with; couldn’t remember the names of his parents. His name changed multiple times from Gabshite, to Bug, to Dung Beetle, and finally to Fink because he’d struggled with pronouncing his ‘th’ sounds while saying the word ‘think’.

“Come on Fink,” yowled one of the older boys. His current name was Grip. “There’s things to be doing.”

If dodging blows wasn’t something Fink was used to, he would’ve had a sharp kick to his ribs. Rib kicks were the worst.

They usually resulted in broken ribs.

Broken ribs meant a slow, painful death.

“Things like what?” Fink rubbed his eyes, there weren’t any messages to deliver this early. Or at least he hoped there weren’t.

Grip shrugged. “Dunno, Snips and Buttons have been catching frogs ‘n other things. I think we’re gonna roast ‘em an’ eat ‘em.”

“We’re gonna eat Snips and Buttons? Eat a person? There’s no way I’m doing that, not even-”

“Shut up, gabshite, I’m talking about the frogs.”

“Oh.”

Dichell was a nice enough city. It was far enough from the ocean to keep big fish out of the sewers, but close enough to Isel to get a wide variety of rich folk. They clung to their purses and forgot to seal up their pockets. Fink could get his hands on a few coins easily enough.

Despite begging him to slow down, Grip dragged Fink by the wrist through alley after alley, eventually they merged into Dichell’s main road.

“Where are we going?” Fink asked.

No answer.

“Grip! Where are we going?”

“The Farmer’s Wench!” Grip called back. “I don’t know where to find the frogs, but I know where to find rats! Snips and Buttons will meet us there!”

“I thought Snips and Buttons were hunting frogs!”

“They are!”

Flaws riddled Grip’s statements, but Fink knew better than to point those out to him. The last time Fink had informed Grip that he wasn’t talking right, he earned a fist to the face.

Luckily the tooth that Fink lost was one of his baby teeth, and a new one was beginning to grow. He had no intention of losing one of his permanent teeth over a dispute about talking.

Although losing a tooth by fighting a dragon in order to save a beautiful princess was easily the best way to go.

All Fink had to do was find a dragon. And a princess.

Just as Grip promised, Snips and Buttons were waiting in the alley by the Farmer’s Wench. Buttons, being the largest out of them all, held a large sack on his back. He was furiously beckining Fink and Grip over.

“We cornered a rat, but it’s hiding between a crate and the wall,” Buttons said.

“Why can’t Snips get it?” Grip asked as he led Fink into the alley.

“We’re both too big, Gabshite.”

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“No, but I kiss yours.”

Fink frowned, “None of us have mothers. Oh! That’s an idea, we could all find a mother, get her to take us in, feed us-”

“Mothers don’t want boys like us, pigbrain!” Snips cackled.He jabbed his finger at the crate. “You’re gonna catch that rat for us, we need dinner.”

“But what if it bites me?”

“Better it bites you than me, Buttons, or Grip.”

“That’s not-”

“Fair?” The three boys supplied.

There was no sympathy in their eyes.

Something rustled.

The rat was making for an escape.

“Get the rat!” Screamed Buttons, hurling himself at the animal.

Buttons missed the rat by a foot, and careened into the wall. Fink flinched at the sight of Buttons’s bloody head. Wounds like that only ever meant trouble.

The rat dashed between Grip’s legs, dashed side to side, and scuttled right into Snips’s open hands.

Fink didn’t like the odd tug-tugging in his heart. It wasn’t right, the way Snips was laughing as he squeezed the rat until it squeaked.

He knew what it felt like to be squeezed until you were sure your bones were going to break.

It was too difficult to watch. Fink pressed his fists into his eyes, and looked at the Farmer’s Wench’s old sign. Looked at the toothless old man begging for a coin or two in the street. Looked at his shoes.

Anywhere but at the squealing rat.

Too many times he’d been told he was too small. Boys like him couldn’t be knights, they’d be blown away by the flap of dragon wings before they could do any princess rescuing.

Was it too early to fill those shoes? Too early to answer that chivalrous call in the only way he could?

“Ah, dinner is-” Snips said, but his sentence was never finished.

Gathering all of his strength, Fink punched Snips in the nose as hard as he could, and caught the fat rat as Snips tumbled down. The rat’s heart was beating faster than a humming bird’s wings. . . And Grip’s fist was coming at him equally fast.

Cradling the rat to his chest with one hand, Fink dashed down the busy street. He couldn’t let go. Couldn’t let go of the rat. Horses thundered past, drivers yelled at him to get out of the way.

By the Devils! What could he do with a rat!?

Go, Fink! Go!

His size brought him an advantage. Fink vanished into a side alley just as Snips, Buttons, and Grip thundered down the street. Rat in hand, Fink slumped against the alley’s brick wall.

Fink didn’t know kind words, not the kind that young mothers used on their newborn babies.

But he was willing to think of kind things to say. “You’re a skinny, little thing, aren’t you? Ah, silly me, rats can’t talk. I’m sorry, I’m kind of used to speaking to trees and other silly things. I get lonely, do you get lonely? Do rats have feelings?”

The rat gave a pitiful squeak.

“Oh, Devils! I’m holding you too tight, I’m so sorry. Here, ah, I’ll set you down. I can barely find food for me, let alone another mouth. Besides, pets are useless. I can’t train you to-,” Fink set the rat on the ground, “-do anything that’ll-, hey! What are you doing?”

The rat only sat back on its haunches, and sniffed at Fink’s trouser leg.

“Shoo! Didn’t you hear what I said?”

Still, she sniffed his trousers.

Fink stood up, “You’ve gotten me into trouble with my friends, I’ll have to go apologize. I wanted to be a knight, and you were my unconventional princess. But you’re not a real princess, and I’m not a real knight, so I have to leave you now. It’s nothing personal, everyone gets left behind in one way or another. Happened to me, but I turned out alright! Sure, I go a little hungry, but I haven’t kilt anyone yet. Goodbye, lady princess.”

He brushed his palms over his shirt, unsure of why his eyes were smarting. It was miserable, acknowledging that no matter how hard he wished, he’d been abandoned. There was no mystery mother and father coming for him.

There was nothing more to him than his ability to sneak into tiny places.

A flash of grey darted around his feet as he shuffled forward.

It seemed the rat wasn’t inclined to being left behind.

“Oh! You’re right, it’s rude of me to do that,” Fink said, freezing in his steps to avoid stepping on the rat. “I didn’t ask your name, but rats can’t talk, so I’ll give you a name.”

The rat squeaked a little louder as Fink picked her up with both hands, and looked her over.

Names weren't something Fink really knew. The boys he ran with were all named after objects or things they did well.

Thinking, thinking. He’d run so many letters to so many people. There had to be- wait!

“I’ll call you Ninette,” Fink declared. He set the rat, newly christened Ninette, on his shoulder. “I ran a letter for a Ninette once, she was marrying a man she didn’t love and wanted to run away with somebody else. I don’t know what happened to her and if she got away. You can carry her name, though. Ninette was nice to me, and you’ll be nice to me too, little Ninette.”

He wouldn’t be alone.

Not while he had Ninette resting on his shoulder.

#I sad #Fink #Fink's rat #is fink's rat my oc now?#the ascendance series #the false prince #fic friday #fic Friday except its a Saturday #give fink a new rat 2k20 #pls Jennifer Nielsen give him back his rat #he deserves it

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