#one small step for lem
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The Beginning of the World
He dangled his feet off the ledge, peering curiously into the emptiness. The grass grew in thick, wild clumps around him, and his fingers toyed idly with the strands. A crown of flowers intertwined themselves with his hair, vibrant blossoms resting on the soft curls.
His eyes were twin suns, glowing with the blinding light of the stars. His laughter was the wind, merry and fickle. His heart beat in time with the waves. He swelled with power, growing with every beat.
Restlessness overtook him, racing on careless feet. Follow me, it seemed to say.
With a light-hearted bounce, he flipped himself off the ledge, back onto safety. His landing was immaculate, as always. The wind beckoned to him too, begging him to join in the fun, and he obliged.
Life was a thrum of music, a melody of animals and a harmony of plants, the deep bass of rocks and raspy whispers of the earth far below. Fire sang in her soprano, belting out the tempestuous ballad of life and death. Wind hummed cheerfully, irreverent and uncaring of the passions and despairs of mere mortals. Water swirled and splashed in rhythm to the cycles of mortality.
And he, ruler of them all, danced to the tune. It was polka, then jazz, then deep, heavy metal. It roared in his ears, dipping and rising like his breath. There were no words, only raw passion.
He twirled, leaped from treetop to treetop, then fell to the ground with the grace of a feather. Flowers blossomed where he stepped, a vivid explosion of blossoms and beauty. Birds gathered in a circle about him, a halo of sparrows and hawks and albatrosses.
The animals gathered below to watch his frolicking. There were deer with massive, branching antlers, and does with liquid, eloquent dark eyes. Rodents, mice and squirrels and rabbits, stared up at him, noses twitching with fascination. The wolves and lynxes stood side by side, enraptured by him. Time stopped in its passage to admire his mania.
This was the birth of a god, he thought. But a god was ruler of only one thing. He had become something else, something more. And he relished it, throwing his arms in the air to welcome it.
He was in the air, the fluid currents that glided effortlessly. He was in the waters, the crashing of waves into shore. He was in the fire and the earth. He was in everything, and everything was him.
Gone was the forest, gone was the precipice. He thought too small, he decided. It was time to see the full picture. And with the blithe laughter of the innocent he knew all.
Beneath the swirling waters and the murmuring winds lay death, drowning and suffocation, pain and suffering. The gaiety of the fire gave way to the agonised cries of burning alive.
The flowers crumbled to dirt in his hands, the deer and does becoming rotting carcasses. Dessicated bones lay scattered, slowly returning to the earth.
And the screams. Delicious, anguished pleas of the helpless, the grieving and the dying alike. The pain of the lemming in the jaws of the fox, the roar of the bear as an arrow dug into its flesh. The blood and the beatings and the bestings all rolled over him.
Death and Life. Pain and Joy. Bliss and Agony. Light and Darkness, Good and Evil. Everything and Nothing. It swirled in a pot of colours, a whirl and twirl of time and space.
He was Life. He was Death. He was Good and Evil, Order and Chaos. He was everything at once, and yet nothing.
He laughed at the folly of mortality. He laughed at their deaths, with the heedless bliss of the immortal. He laughed at their pain, their passions and their despairs, so inconsequential. His voice tinkled across the world, higher than the songs of the angels, lower than the beating of the world's heart.
And yet- He was a person! He belonged down on the ground, with two eyes instead of a million ones. He belonged with veins of blood, not of magic.
Magic, too, he was the god of. Magic which darted along the skyline, jigged on the edge of volcanoes. Magic who slept with the bear in the winter and cavorted with the fish. Magic that lay in everything, a stream of power that followed no rules, obeyed no orders, save his. He was the master of magic, mercurial, mischievous magic.
Don't, his soul begged. Don't do it. You're a person. Remember? You had loved.
He had been mortal once, he remembered in a dim part of his mind that still clung to those meaningless moments. He had been foolish and young.
And he had loved, indeed.
Love and Hatred. That he was too. He felt it in his bones, the snarl of rage and loathing, the rumble of protection and adoration. It flowed like an undercurrent of magma, molten iron in his veins. Love and hate moved the world, shaped it and moulded it. Fickle things, they were, but he was a fickle being. It suited him just fine.
The little bit of him cried and begged, screamed in haunting melancholia that would have broken any person's heart. No! No! Turn back! Go back to your old self! You're a person, not an infinity!
But he was no mere person, not anymore. Despair was a part of him, beautiful in its gut-wrenching agony.
no. please. It wasn't even a whisper, easily drowned out by the breath of the living. don't forget. Was it even his? It was so desperate, so pitiful, and he so mirthful, that it seemed unthinkable.
With a jolt, he remembered someone, someone who could have said those words. It was hard to think of a single individual, so complex was he. A face, perhaps, quickly whisked away by the annals of time. A person, someone he had loved and who had loved him in return. Naught but a memory.
don't let it end like this, the memory begged. please.
But what did he care for endings and beginnings? He was all, and nothing at once.
no- The voice was gone, forgotten by a flighty God. He tossed it out onto the wind, let the gusts toy with it and laughed along merrily.
His laughter was the harsh wind across the moors, the death rattles of soldiers in a war, the fires crackling as the world burned. It was mocking, uncaring, cruel. Yet it was the chirping of birds in the summer, the giggles of playful children, the autumn leaves crunching beneath running feet. It was bliss, endless and infinite joy. All the emotion in the world was packed into the ringing noise.
The world, he ruminated, was too small for him. He watched life wink out and flare back up, and decided to see more. See further. There were worlds beyond this, stars beyond his sun. He would see it all, he decided.
His gaze turned to the tiny precipice overlooking an endless chasm. It was impossible to focus on it, so microscopic it was. But it was the start of his world, and so it was where he would depart too.
How long had it been? One year? A hundred? A million? The trees had dwindled to gnarled husks, ancient grandmother's curling in on themselves. Capriciously, he laughed at their fragile shells.
He was in the swirling clouds and fluttering leaves, in the sky and the grass, and then in the chasm of the unknown. But he was not in the Void.
He was the Void.
#This is a continuation/co-piece with the End of the World that I posted yesterday#writeblr#writing#my writing#creative writing#writerscommunity#writing community#spilled ink#short story#fantasy#I like writing about dying gods
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When the five new fruit babies arrive, does this mean Smokey's pilgrimage is over?
I mean it's one thing to have Xiao Qi and the two wolf siblings along, but add in five more baby monkeys? Reborn!Pigsy is no doubt putting his hoof down if they are, they are not childcare service.
Well... Smokey/Reborn!SWK was about a couple years into a pilgrimage thats meant to take like 9/17 canon years when he and Liang/Reborn!LEM got the accidental windfall of baby monkeys.
It happens during the "Macaque" chapter where SWK gets kicked out by Xuanzang/Tripitaka for killing the bandits. LEM def defends Smokey's actions - violently once he witnesses Tripitaka using the Headache sutra on SWK. Lets just say a monk almost got folded until Pigsy and Sandy stepped in.
Cue the 3 monkeys + 2 wolf kids leaving on a a sommersault cloud to;
Complain to Guanyin.
Drop the kids off at FFM so they can introduce them to the good, zero-monk life while SWK has a small emotional breakdown.
Check up on that weird tree they planted a while back- WHAT THE?!
The Weird Tree: *looks like a peach tree, but has 5 infant monkey-shaped fruit*
SWK & LEM: "UHHH..."
Zhu Yu (wolf child 1#): "Those are the ugliest pears I've ever seen."
Xiao Qi: *bouncing excitedly for some reason*
At first the adult monkeys think maybe the fruits are ginseng/manfruits that just look kinda weird? Until it requires both of their strength to pull one off a branch, and then the peach-skin-like coating of the "fruit" sloughs off and reveals a squalling newborn baby monkey.
SWK & LEM, both covered in fruit juice: "Oh my-" "-Sweet Guanyin."
The Four other "fruits": *start swaying and making cry-chirps*
SWK & LEM: "UH OH."
Xiao Qi: "Yay!!!"
Wolf siblings: *confusedly licking their new sibling clean*
Smokey has to manifest a few baby/fruit baskets so him and Liang can literally catch the other four as they drop naturally. Seems that picking the eldest fruit "woke up" the others.
And when its all done, they have five very grumpy infant monkeys that smell like fruit. And once the youngest dropped, the tree curled in on itself like a wilted flower and seemed to revert to a sterile trunk.
The two monkeys are shaken, covered in not-fruit juice, and theres five babies screaming in their ears + their three extant kids running around excitedly.
SWK, holding four baskets: "...we really should have stayed with Master."
LEM, still in shock while holding the eldest of the five: "Maybe we can bribe him with one?'
Guanyin soon manifests to explain that she gave Tripitaka a talking to about abandoning his student. She pauses mid-sentence, looks at the two parent monkeys, blinks, and admits a little sheepishly;
Guanyin: "I blessed your false-ginseng tree to give you children once you had returned from your journey. It seems that the tree misinterpeted your banishment as your return."
SWK (almost all limbs occupied with rocking a cub to sleep): "YOU THINK!?"
Guanyin: "My blessings multiply depending on the desire of the parents."
SWK & LEM: *nervously glances at one another*
*Later when all the pilgrims reunite*
SWK & LEM: *both look sleep deprived, and are covered in baby monkeys*
Pigsy: "WHOA... how long did we leave you two alone for?"
LEM: "A whole day."
Pigsy: "You worked fast then!" XD
SWK: "Pigsy I swear to buddha, I'll throw you into the Mother-Child River if you make another joke."
SWK has a small crisis of choice now. He can't leave Master alone or he'll definitely get eaten. But he doesn't want to be an absent figure to his kids - and Xiao Qi has made his intentions to continue on the pilgrimage no matter what.
SWK & LEM: *share a look*
Pigsy: "No. Absolutely not."
SWK: "I can't leave Liang alone on the island with five babies. It's not fair."
Sandy: "And we'll need them if Xiao Qi wishes to continue on with us..."
Pigsy: "NO."
Tripitaka: "We aren't a nursery service."
Pigsy: "Thank you!"
Tripitaka, places hand on SWK's shoulder: "We're family."
Pigsy: "Noooo!"
*Cut to each Pilgrim holding a baby*
Pigsy, threateningly: "You two best keep it in your pants from now on!"
SWK: "Thats not how they were made!"
Pigsy: "I don't wanna even hear about your bedroom activities!"
Xiaolizi/Little Plum: *squeaks angrily from Pigsy's back*
Pigsy: "See? Even he's tired of it!"
Each Pilgrim gets a fruit baby to hold.
Pigsy is very upset by this turn of events, but luckily his little buddy (Plum) backs him up in his rantings ("Meh!" "Thats what I'm saying!").
Sandy is just rattling off history facts and stories to Cherry while the baby just "ooo"s and giggles at everything he says.
Tripitaka gets Peach, cus the little girl is the easiest to hold and seems interested in the monk's vague Buddhist sayings.
Apricot just *leaps* onto Ao Lie's back and refuses to be moved less he starts crying. The dragon-horse feels a little smug to be his favorite.
Jujube has to be kept close to the monkey parents or else she tries running off to cause mischief. Very much her Baba's daughter.
Xiao Qi is still a Baba's boy, and will 100% cling to Smokey if his hands are free. The wolf kids feel a little left out at times, but Liang is quick to focus attention on them when the fruity babies are causing a fuss. A few of the babies learn how to transform into wolf pups so they can run together as a mini-pack (Apricot prefers to be a horse foal).
As for the potential dangers of having so many small children on this journey? While both monkey parents would have *preferred* to have raised the cubs on FFM, they know that they can do so much more good in the world while travelling.
And a lot of demons would look at the pilgrim group like; "Are those monks? Sweet Yama! How many baby demons are there? They def aren't good monks in any case. Ain't worth my time." XD
We are talking about super-powerful, nigh-indestructible, nature-healing babies after all. The real people in danger are whoever dares think they can handle a baby in a fair fight.
#monkey king reborn#gif warning#mk reborn au#qi energy#jttw inspo character ideas#jttw au#journey to the west#jttw inspo fan children#sun wukong#liu er mihou#six eared macaque#fruitiedadsshipping#fruitiedads#reborn pigsy#reborn xuanzang#reborn sandy#reborn ao lie
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My brain is writing checks that my hands can't quite cash, but I've been blowing up @ahsokaisawesome 's phone all day with ideas for Sonic and Tails in Zootopia, so here we are. Thoughts under the cut.
Sonic is in his late teens or early 20s, and is Miles' legal guardian. They live in what used to be two neighboring studio apartments, but they knocked down a wall and made it a hybrid. Each side of the apartment is at a different scale, so from the outside there's still two front doors. The place is modest but homey. Miles sleeps on a futon, and they have an old CRT tv and Sega Genesis that they fished out of a dumpster and Miles repaired.
Sonic's main gig is with Zuber Eats. He primarily serves Little Rodentia, and he's one of the best because he's super fast and the perfect size. Small enough to comfortably move through the district without worrying about stepping on anyone, but large compared to the shrews, lemmings, and mice who live there, so he can carry a relatively large amount of food. He can easily accommodate big parties or many orders at once.
Sonic and Miles would be colored more naturally to match the Zootopia aesthetic, if I wasn't too lazy to ever color. And they don't have super powers. But Sonic still has a reputation for being very fast, partly because he's just used to keeping up with his ever-growing little brother, and partly because he zips around town on a skateboard. And Miles still has two tails because I want him to.
#dakt draws#sonic fanart#Zootopia#sonic the hedgehog#miles tails prower#explain to me how both of the D+ shorts about the shrews made me cry like a baby 😭#Sonic Zootopia AU
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Holidays in Hogsmeade
Farmboy Sallow
Probably a little niche-like but Sebastian on the field, doing some hard work.. I mean.. 🙈
With tousled hair, Sebastian straightened up on the bed and looked out of the window in disgust. The sun was already high in the sky and he rubbed his eyes, trying to understand how he could sleep so long.
Yawning, he got up and stumbled to his washstand, eyes half-open, to splash cold water on his face and tame his hair, which was standing on all sides, at least a little.
The soothing cool water did wonders and stretching his body, Sebastian stepped out of his room freshly dressed, only to stop indecisively in the corridor and listen. The whole farmhouse seemed empty. No murmur from the kitchen, no creaking floorboards from the upper floor. Unsettled, he stepped to one of the windows and looked outside into the garden and immediately his body relaxed again.
Sitting on the small wooden bench between the wild roses, Ominis seemed to be listening to the conversation between Corvus and Luscinia with an amused grin.
"If you don't dig the earth deep enough, all our work will be of no use at all."
"Dearest sister, I am doing my very best here and for that I think I deserve some praise."
"Are you getting petulant now because you found a task you couldn't master right away?"
Briskly, Corvus raised his spade and hurled earth and dirt at Luscinia.
"A little more respect for your older brother."
Before the situation could escalate further, Sebastian stepped between them, testing the ground with the toe of his shoe, loosely folding back his shirt sleeves.
"Actually, it's a bit early to be digging up the ground."
Eyes wide, Corvus pointed at his sister, "It's her fault!"
Luscinia threw a tuft of grass at him, the first thing she could catch on the loose earth.
"I was just hoping we could sow some more vegetables for this winter. And since the garden hasn't been used for a long time..." she fell silent, unsure.
Sebastian shook his head and laid his waistcoat over a fence post before loosening his tie.
"It's all right, we'll make the best of it."
He winked at Luscinia and tossed his tie over the fence as well before taking the spade from her hands and beginning to expertly dig up the earth.
For a moment all that could be heard was the sound of the tool being forcefully sunk into the earth, only to sweep the top one down shortly afterwards.
"May I know why it has suddenly gone so quiet?" interjected Ominis curiously, causing Luscinia and Corvus to speak hastily and muddled before they looked at each other briefly in confusion and Corvus burst out laughing. He then pressed his tool into his sister's hand and patted Sebastian on the shoulder.
"You guys do it. I'll go and prepare lunch then."
He gave Ominis another quick wave through his hair and marched out of the garden and towards the village.
Frustrated, Luscinia stared after him until Sebastian gently nudged the tip of her nose and brought her attention back.
"Sit with Ominis, I'll handle this."
Vehemently she shook her head, "I want to help you, just show me how to do it properly."
With a smirk he leaned towards her, hand under her chin, thumb brushing her cheek and kissed her tenderly first on the forehead, then on her lips.
"That's my girl."
Patiently, he then demonstrated the correct movement, watching her execution with one foot on his spade blade, giving her additional guidance in a soft voice. They then worked in silence until the midday sun blazed down on their heads, causing them to pause.
With a gasp, Luscinia wiped the sweat from her brow, her gaze falling on Sebastian's chest, his shirt now wide open, the skin underneath glistening with sweat. At the upper back, the fabric had settled against the bulges of his muscles, making his shoulders and small of his back look even broader.
"By Merlin's beard...", Luscinia turned her gaze towards the pale white clouds before strolling behind Sebastian into the house where Corvus and Ominis had prepared lemonade and lunch.
#hogwarts legacy#sebastian sallow#hogwarts oc#ominis gaunt#hogsmeade#hogwarts legacy oc#sebastian sallow x mc#sebastian sallow fluff#hogwarts legacy fanfiction#farmboy sallow#luscinia plonbraw#corvus plonbraw
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"I'm at the foot of the ladder. These LEM footpads are only depressed in the surface of that one or two inches. Although the surface appears to be very, very fine-grained as you get close to it. It's almost like a powder. It's very fine. Okay, I'm going to step off the LEM now. That's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind."
-Neil Armstrong on July 20, 1969.
A two minutes montage of Apollo 11 mission events highlights.
source
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17 | Fairytale Gold
Pairing: Bakugou x Fem!Reader
Pirate's Treasure Masterlist
Y/N'S P.O.V.
It's a new day on the island. Another morning is beginning to rise as you wait for Bakugou to meet up with you. He had asked for you to wait in the sand as he got one final surprise. And so, you're standing outside, the wind in your hair, and a smile on your face.
It's hard to believe that this is real. Hard to believe that you're still here, and not back at home. Part of you worries for your grandfather, but the radio at your waist is comfort enough to keep those feelings at bay.
He'll be okay.
You close your eyes, inhaling deeply and relishing the feeling of the warm breeze tickling your skin. And when you open your eyes again, there he is, walking towards you. The first rays of sunlight hit him, making him seem as though he's glowing. He looks beautiful, golden, like the sunken golden ship from his past.
"Good morning," he calls out, his hands behind his back.
"Morning," you greet him with a grin. "Where've you been?"
"Around," he replies. "I had to get something before we go."
"Are you going to tell me what it is?" you smile hopefully.
"Not yet," he shakes his head.
"Fine," you sigh dramatically, causing him to chuckle.
"Don't be such a brat," he teases, ruffling your hair. "Come on, let's go."
Together, the two of you walk along the newly created pathway to the project you had spent your last three months working on together.
"Do you know what day it is?" you ask him, looking over at him.
"Why are you so sappy about dates?" he sighs.
"So you do know," you beam. You knew he was keeping track of time.
"So what if I do," he scoffs. "Now will you shut up and stop asking me dumb questions?"
"Fine, fine," you laugh. "But happy three months," you hum as you place your hand in his.
A few moments later, the two of you arrive at your finished project. The house that the two of you built together. It's a small, one-story building made entirely of bamboo and palm leaves.
"This is it," you say, looking at him. "Our new home."
"You're so fucking weird," he laughs, shaking his head.
"Maybe, but it's not like you didn't agree to it," you reply.
"Tch," he scoffs.
"Now come on, let's go inside," you tell him, tugging him towards the front door.
Once you step inside, Bakugou finally agrees to show you what he's brought- the wooden box that held the map to the gold.
"You wanted to bring it? I thought you said-"
"Yeah, well, figured it was about time to bring the last of my crap here," he mutters, a faint blush tinting his cheeks.
He then stops you before you can take a step further. "Hold on a sec. I want you to have it," he says, presenting it to you as if it were a precious gift.
You take the box, running your fingers over the smooth wood. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," he nods.
As you lift the lid, you find the map inside – the same map that led you to this island, to him. Bakugou watches your reaction closely, most likely wondering what you will do with the map now that you're no longer hunting for the treasure.
"It's the last thing tying me to that damn ship," he admits, his tone softer now. "And I thought you might want to keep it. You know, as a reminder of how we got here."
You look from the map to Bakugou, a rush of emotions welling up inside you. This map is more than just a piece of paper; it's a symbol of your shared journey, everything you've faced together, and the bond that has grown from the chaos. With a grateful smile, you pull Bakugou into a tight hug, your arms wrapped around his neck.
"Thank you, Katsuki," you whisper, and Bakugou, for a moment, lets his guard down, returning the embrace.
"Whatever," he grumbles, but you can hear the fondness in his voice.
"I love you, Katsuki," you murmur, your face buried in his neck.
"Yeah," he answers. "I love you, too."
Pirate's Treasure Masterlist
Taglist: @nemisimp @boopjuice @stevenknightmarc @lem-hhn
#bakugou x reader#bakugou x you#bakugou x y/n#katsuki bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugou x you#katsuki bakugou x y/n#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou#bakugou katsuki#mha bakugou#bnha bakugou#fanfiction series#ao3#mha x female reader#mha x reader#mha self insert#x reader#x fem!reader#fanfic#my hero academia#fanfiction#pirate's treasure
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Heroes Don’t Wear Tights
"What do you think you're doing?"
Vigilante froze half-clamber, long legs still dangling in mid-air as his thick arms clung to the fire escape bars. Wide smoky eyes, darker behind the ill-sewn mask and charcoal rubbing, slowly raised to Hero's hovering form.
"Um..." They scrambled the rest of the way and hid the glistening gash in their bicep with one bruised and bleeding hand. "H-hi."
Hero raised her brow. "Hi."
"H-Hero, right?"
"That's me."
"Wow. I just wasn't expecting...you. Here. Do you want..." they glanced absently through their window. "Well, I have juice, milk, water--"
Hero landed gracefully in front of him, so close their noses were almost touching and forcing the civilian back a step. "I want you to stop playing dress-up and stay home."
Vigilante blinked, taking that statement in bit by bit. "Wait, you want me to stop doing hero work?"
"It's not hero work," Hero snapped. "You're not a hero. You're a civilian in tights."
Vigilante rubbed his shoe against the ankle of his black compression leggings, the lighting from his bedroom partially illuminating the blush flooding his cheeks. "Don't heroes--"
"Heroes don't wear tights," Hero said firmly. "Except in movies. You're an amateur waiting to get hurt, and it's time to stop."
"B-but I can help." It was strange how someone so large could suddenly seem so small. Like Hero had deflated all the confidence right out of him.
She sighed. "Look, it's not that I don't appreciate what you're trying to do, but there's a process to these things. Paperwork. Licenses. Random people can't just go around fighting crime. On top of that, you're unpowered."
Vigilante's eyes flashed. "So what?"
Ugh, she wasn't in the mood for an argument on the politics of heroism. The debate on the licensing of unpowered people was still ongoing, but Hero had no idea why. Sure, it all sounded nice on paper, equality, community, whatever, but putting regular people against criminals that could unwind a person with their eyes with was like sending lambs to the slaughter.
"So you think you got out of that warehouse tonight on your own?"
Vigilante blanched. Soot and smoke still clung to the threads of their disguise. He hadn't even tried changing somewhere on his way. He was just lucky Hero was the only one who'd followed him home.
"Yeah," Hero said dryly. "You didn't escape by chance or skill; you escaped because I was there to pick up the mess."
"Please," the civilian said, shrunken once again.
"I'm sorry." She clapped a hand on his shoulder. It was supposed to be comforting, but she didn't think it was coming off that way. She'd never been good with feel-good stuff. "But stick to your day job."
"Ok," Vigilante mumbled, staring at his feet.
He was lying.
But how else could Hero convince him?
"Good," Hero said, feigning obliviousness, and watched him slip over his windowsill and draw the curtains. Hm. Not so impressed with her anymore was he. People rarely were. But what did she care what people thought as long as they stayed alive?
She'd just have to keep an on him. At least until she came up with a more permanent solution.
...
Hmmm, so maybe this snippet was a bit boring, but basically, I just wanted to write a hero x vigilante where the vigilante is just a clumsy civilian too reckless and well-intentioned for their own good. Most hero x vigilante is centered around the dynamic that hero is more morally upright and vigilante is more morally grey, but I wanted to go from a stance of a person who has been given legal permission to fight villains and a person who is taking it upon themself.
Master Taglist:
@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @last-ditch-entry @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi
#hero x villain community#hero x villain#heroes and villains#writing snippet#hero x hero#hero x vigilante#fiction#villain x hero#heroes and villains community#creative writing#hero#superheroes and villains
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Love Letter's to No One (B.B)
Part Six: A Broken Heart. Again
Pairings: Rooster x Fem!Reader, Platonic!Mav x Reader
Warnings: Mentions of death, some swearing
Word Count: 2.1K
Author's Note: Okay I literally cried while writing this one so I hope you guys enjoy it, I think its a good way to say goodbye to Tom.
I cried at my mom's funeral.
I cried so hard my throat was raw and my eyes burned.
"Lem, we need to talk," was all dad had to say for me to break down into tears, I knew my uncle was sick, but he had told us he was getting better. I guess he thought that would save us some of the pain of him dying.
Bradley held my hand tight while dad told me exactly what I knew I was gonna hear. "I'm sorry sweetheart." Was all I comprehended before trying to get out of the hospital bed, both my dad and Bradley stopping me, trying to get me to lay down.
"Let go of me, I need to go see Aunt Sara." I say through tears, managing to stand for just a second before taking a few steps to cross the room to my things. "Someone needs to take me to see Aunt Sara." I say again, the boys sharing a cautious glance to each other before watching me as I attempt to get dressed, pulling out my IV in the process.
I wasn't watching them when a doctor entered the room to see what was going on, I didn't see them stop him from using restraints, I didn't see Bradley quickly walk over to me. I did, however, feel his arms wrap around me like a bear hug, letting me fall apart again.
"I know Lem, I know." He said calmly, "we will get you to your aunt but you need to let us check you quickly first." I gave a soft nod before the doctor came over to give me a quick once over before telling dad that I needed to take it easy but I was okay. The boys carefully helped me get dressed before we set off to my aunt house.
I knocked softly on the door, the boys waited by the car. Hearing a soft shuffle in what is probably a near empty house, the Kazansky's had children that were older than me and even a few with children themselves. While I don't think any of them moved very far away Tom and Sara were never able to sell the house that their children grew up in.
My heart grew heavy as Sara opened the door, breaking down into tears the moment she saw me, my face scratched from the events earlier today, my eyes red and bloodshot from crying. She pulled me into a tight hug peering behind me to see the boys at the car. Pulling away she gestures for them to come up to the house and they obliged, my dad gave her a soft smile before pulling her into a hug. Sara welcomed us into the home with a small smile. Bradley offered to make us some tea and I told Sara I'd show him the kitchen, allowing my dad to talk to her.
I took a deep breath before pushing the kitchen door open.
Uncle Tom gave me a soft smile as I flash him my braces filled smile. He gestures to the island allowing me to have a seat before giving me a glass of chocolate milk.
"Boy trouble?" He asked me softly gesturing to the clock which read 3:15 a.m. I nod softly.
"Lot's of trouble actually." I say sheepishly, the Kazansky's had taken me in at the request of my parents while they go to find the best doctor they could.
"Tell me about it kiddo," he said softly before grabbing another glass for chocolate milk.
"Mom's really sick," I start off, explaining just about everything that has happened since Bradley left. Uncle Tom listed carefully, sipping on his milk every now and then.
"I miss him Uncle Tom," I say softly, not even caring if the tears filled my eyes, he's seen me way worse off then I am right now.
"I know kiddo, I know." He moved from around the counter to give me a tight hug, I don't even try to hold my sobs back.
"Lem?" Bradley calls waving a hand in front of my face sapping me out of whatever trance I was in.
"Sorry," I say blinking back tears, "I have a lot of good memories in this kitchen." I say softly.
"She took her first steps in this kitchen," Dad said, breaking the silence between us. "She walked right to Tom, past her dad even." Sara said from behind him.
"That's it beautiful, come to dad!" Maverick excitedly said from the kitchen at the Kazansky's. The 14-month-old stared up at her father, her bright green eyes sparkled as she began to stand. Her first few steps remained wobbly but it wasn't her father she wanted, the little girl wobbled right past her parents and to her Uncle Tom, whose smile was just about as big as his face, his arms outstretched for his goddaughter. "Come here kiddo, come to Uncle Tommy." He said with an encouraging smile. The little girl outstretched her tiny arms before being scooped up by her uncle, dissolving into a pit of giggles as the adults around her cheer, she was the youngest off all of the children between the two families, she was the last one to walk in that kitchen.
I smile, my heart aching for Sara and the children, all of us having lost a great man but they lost a husband and father.
We stayed with Sara for a few more hours, Bradley and I taking some extra time to clean the house, the funeral was in two days time and I planned on doing everything I can to help out.
We exchanged hugs and sympathetic looks, promising to see her in two days. "Honey," she said softly, "do you wanna say a few words at the funeral?" I bit my lip and nodded. "I'll make him proud Sara," I say with a soft sniff, I feel her soft hand on my cheek, "you already have baby." I let a few tears fall as I hug her again.
Bradley held me close as we walk out the door and into the car, he holds my hand for the ride home, and then he stays with me while I cried myself to sleep.
I let the hot water run down my body as I leaned against the wall of the shower, Uncle Tom's funeral was today so I was up bright and early to get ready, my speech sat folded up on my old vanity. I give a soft sign before turning off the water and getting out.
I had began applying my makeup in a robe when a soft knock pulled me from my thoughts. Bradley popped his head in and gave me a warm smile.
"You doin okay Lem?" he asked before coming into the room, I nodded gently before continuing to do what minimal makeup I needed to look like I had actually gotten sleep.
"Can you help me Bradley?" I ask, gesturing to my dress that hung off the closet. He nodded, becoming quickly flustered as I took off my robe and, in a bra and underwear, walked over to the dress. I pulled it over my head attempting to be careful of my hair and makeup. Bradley walked over to me as I turned around allowing him to do my zipper, he wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed my shoulder gently before allowing me to walk away to add jewelry and shoes to my outfit. Letting out a deep sigh I take Bradley's extended hand and we made our way to his truck. Dad had gone to collect Penny and her daughter Amelia.
The ride was silent, which I appreciate because I have done nothing but cry since we got home two nights ago and Bradley hadn't left his side.
The cemetery was packed by the time we got there, sailors in their dressiest uniforms, while all the other patrons wear black. Bradley carefully helped me out of the car. We had managed to find my dad and I gave a small smile to Penny which she returned. Bradley kissed my cheek softly and with a quick 'if you need anything I'll be right over there' before walking over to join his friends and fellow pilots while I sat between my Aunt Sara and dad.
I didn't realized how much people loved to talk until we were over three hours into the funeral and only four people had spoken. "And now," Admiral Simpson began, "Admiral Kazansky's niece, (y/n) Mitchell is going to share a few final words." Sara squeezed my hand reassuringly as I stood, fixed my dress, and walked up to the podium.
"Admiral Kazansky was known to many as Iceman, one of the greatest pilots this navy has ever seen." I took a deep breath. "But to me, he was Uncle Tom. The man who stayed up with me and let me complain about boys over a glass of chocolate milk, he is the man who I deemed to be great enough to be on the receiving end of my first steps. Uncle Tom and Aunt Sara took me in when my mother was sick, and then at the end of it all uncle Tom held me while I got the news that my mother had passed." I looked to my dad who had been crying all morning. "Uncle Tom was my best friend, he was the cause of so many amazing memories, like the time he took me up in a jet for the first time. He supported me when I joined the academy and while most people would have used his status to their advantage Uncle Tom made it very clear that I had paved this path on my own. He was my best friend, the person I went to for everything." I feel some tears falls. "He was my Uncle Tom. There will not be a day that goes by that I don't miss him terribly, but I will continue to do what I have been doing since the say I was born, I'm gonna make him proud."
I walk over to my dad take the wings off his uniform and walk over to the casket, I place a gentle hand on top of it and let out a sob before hammering it in with my fist. I wipe my tears and walk back to my seat sitting down, Sara pulls me into a side hug as I let a few more tears slip.
The funeral finished up shortly after and we all gathered at the Kazansky home, Bradley walked up to me placing a hand on the small of my back.
"Bradley?" I ask quitely.
"Hmm?" He hums a response looking out across the crowd.
"Take me away from here please." I say softly, Bradley nodded before taking my hand and leading me out of the house.
"Where do you wanna go beautiful?" He asked softly, "the ocean." I reply before climbing into the car and staring out the window.
Bradley nodded sadly before pulling away from the home, leading me to a near empty beach. I climb out of the car and take my heels off. Letting the sand hit my feet felt refreshing and a took off for the ocean, not even bothering if my hair gets messed up or my makeup run, I honestly don't even give a shit if my dress gets ruined, I just want to be in the water. Bradley comes chasing after me shortly after I take off, having removed most of his uniform so that it doesn't get ruined.
He grabbed my waist and pulled me close to him as I screamed and kicked the water out of frustration. "Shhhh beautiful, I know, I know." He said into me, letting my get it out but not allowing me to go any further into the water.
We stand there for a few moments more before the wind finally gets to me and I begin to shiver. He leads me out of the water and back to his truck, finding a towel somewhere in the bed of the truck, he wrapped it around me. I lean in slightly, bringing my face closer to his and when I realize he hasn't pulled away I let our lips meet but just for a second before he pulls away.
"You're hurting Lem, I don't want to take advantage of you." He said softly, looking between me and my lips.
"You aren't, to me you feel like home." I reply, and that must have pushed him over he edge enough to pull me in for another kiss, this one longer, more tender.
Bradley Bradshaw feels like home.
And somewhere out in the great big universe, Uncle Tom was smiling at me.
Taglist!
@itscheybaby
@turningtoclown
@daryldixonstorm
@Dilfsandtherapy
@Nickie-amore
@malindacath
@luckyladycreator2
@sadpetalsstuff
@Shanimallina87
@Wishingwell-2
@Xoxoloverb
@Majormaybe1
@Mizzy-pop
@Saramaple
@Hope-love-equality2
@toothhurtyam
@beaner-life-23
@fogle97
@justanothermagicalsara
@tallrock35
@callsigns-roo-and-bag
@marchingicenotes7
@scoopsahoy008
#top gun#top gun: maverick#tg:m#top gun maverick#maverick#maverick top gun#cpt. pete mitchell#cpt. pete maverick mitchell#pete maverick mitchell#rooster#rooster top gun#lt. bradley bradshaw#lt. bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley bradshaw x reader#rooster fanfic#penny benjamin#hard deck
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FFXIVWrite Day seven: Noisome
with @windupnamazu 's Lemon (and Lunya)
"Hey Lunya do you know where we keep the flowers?" Babycorn was hanging off the edge of a chair, stretching herself as far as she could in order to reach the cabinets high above her.
"Babycorn?! What are you doing?!" Her voice sounded squeakier than usual. Probably because she was pinching her nose shut.
"What did I tell you about using the kitchen by yourself...?"
Babycorn was confused. "But I'm not by myself! Cherrypits right here!" She pointed down and sure enough there was Cherrypit wearing an oversized chef's hat.
Lunya sighed, her patience truly unending. At least the mystery of why the mansion smelled so bad was solved.
It was early in the morning when Lemon was roused from his sleep by the most obnoxious smell he had ever smelled in his entire life.
It only took a few seconds for the smell to completely take over Lemon’s room. “AUugghH!!!!” Lemon grabbed his extra pillow in the shape of a cactuar and flew to cover his face with it, but even that wasn’t enough to cover up the mysterious stench.
Though the stench was foul and the idea of something smelling that bad even worse, Lemon knew he couldn’t just idly sit by and let something really stinky be inside their house!
He needed to be brave! Just like his mama and papa!
Lemon maneuvered himself under his blankets and let out a scared whimper. The smell was getting worse but Lemon decided that instead of taking his pillow as protection he would take his stuffed tonberry.
With his blanket covering him and him holding the stuffed tonberry to his face, surely he would be protected from whatever stinky things would be out there.
Lemon carefully hopped off his bed and tip-toed to the door. Just before leaving his room he turned to check on Blueberry, who was still fast asleep in his own little bed. Blueberry was still fast asleep. Lemon had to admit, he was a little jealous he could sleep through this.
“I’ll be back soon Blueberry. Okay?” he whispered as quietly as he could. Blueberry gave no indication that he had heard Lemon. “Okay. I love you. Bye-bye…!” Lemon whispered again as he closed the door to his room as quietly as he could.
As soon as the door closed,Lemon pulled his blanket entirely over him. The smell was even WORSE outside his room! “AUugugghhhhhUWayuwa….” Lemon’s voice was muffled under his heavy blanket. He maneuvered one of his small viera ears outside the blanket to see if he could hear anything out of the ordinary.
While he could have just looked with his eyes, he absolutely refused to let any part of his face outside of the safety of his blanket in fear of being met with more stinkyness.
When he decided that the coast was clear Lemon set forth at a very slow pace to where he guessed was coming from. Unfortunately this did mean he actually had to smell whatever it was that had invaded their home.
“Ewwww….”
Lemon knew he was heading in the right direction when the smell was getting even worse.
As his blanket trailed behind him, Lemon found himself making his way to the kitchen. Where the smell was almost unbearable. To his surprise, the kitchen lights were on. “Papa? Is that you?” That was weird. His papa didn’t usually start making breakfast before the sun came out.
Lemon stepped forward to investigate more and caught his foot on his blanket. “AUKC?!” he tripped forward and fell flat on his face, which thankfully had a soft landing thanks to the stuffed tonberry.
“Lem!?”
Lemon heard a gasp and then a set of scuttering footsteps coming towards him.
A hand grabbed his blanket and lifted it up from him. The next thing Lemon knew, he was face to face with his older sister. “Lems? What are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be asleep?” Patti grabbed her younger brother underneath his arms and stood him up.
“I woke up!” Lemon explained.
“Well then un-wake up! You got school tomorrow!” Patti took the blanket she had just removed off of Lemon back onto him, making sure to mind his ears. “If you don’t get enough sleep you’re gonna fall asleep in class and miss everything!”
“Bold words coming from someone who also has school tomorrow. Don’t you think so, Patticake Starsinger-Moontide.”
At the sound of her tio’s voice Patti froze. “G-Good morning tío Cherry…” She tried to say as cooly as she could.
Lemon looked around. Sure enough, standing at the doorway was their tío Cherry. Which was a little strange. Lemon was sure that no one else had been in the hallway except for him. And also his blanket and his stuffed tonberry.
“That’s because I was walking on the ceiling Lems.” Cherrypit explained, pointing up.
“Ooooh!” Lemon understood everything now. “Hi tío Cherry!” he said with a small wave.
“Hi Lemon. Hi Patti.” Cherrypit waved back.
Right at that moment in time another wave of smelliness hit the kitchen and everywhere surrounding it. Cherrypit and Lemon couldn’t cover their noses fast enough. Then by sheer coincidence, a mysterious pot on the stove began to bubble over.
“WaH!” Patti turned on her heel and ran back, picking up a step stool that had been previously next to the sink and moving it to the stove. With a spoon in her hand she began to stir whatever nameless monstrosity was inside the cooking pot. “Phew! It’s still good!” Ironically the stirring was making the smell even worse.
Patti took a small spoonful from her creation and put it up to her mouth for a taste test. It was clear from her disgusted expression that whatever was in there tasted about as good as it smelled.
Which was not good at all.
Patti was silent for a bit before speaking up again. “...I think it needs more salt.”
“What it needs is for someone to put it out of its misery.”
Patti gasped, “Tío Cherry!!! Be nice!!!”
Lemon watched in horror as he noticed that inside the pot was a whole fish head. It then bobbed down deeper into the pot, disappearing from view. “Patti? What are you making?” Papa would never put Patti in charge of making breakfast. That was almost as bad as mama making breakfast.
He wouldn’t have to eat this would he?!?!
“Heh-Heh! I’m glad you asked Lems!” Patti spun the wooden spoon in her hand with a smirk. “I’m making a soup! For mama and papa!”
“Are you trying to kill them or something?”
“TIO CHERRY!!!”
“Right, right. Sorry, sorry.” Cherrypit apologized. Though it was clear from his snickering he wasn’t that sorry at all. Lemon was just relieved that Patti was actually not going to kill mama and papa.
“Today is mama and papa’s anniversary!” Patti began to explain, “So I’m making them a special soup as a present because I’m the best daughter ever and they love me!!” The pot behind Patti started to bubble and hurgle again. Which Patti put a stop to with a swift smack of her spoon.
Cherrypit sighed, a smile on his face. “They do love you a lot…but…” While he was more than sure that Babycorn would probably eat Patti’s ‘soup’ without any problem, he wasn’t too sure that Butter would either.
….Actually, he probably would. But not without having sludge come out of his mouth and ears just like so many years ago when he ate Babycorn’s cooking without a care in the world.
Lemon and Cherrypit exchanged a pair of looks. It was pretty clear (even without any mind reading powers) that both of them had come to the same conclusion. It was also pretty clear that both of them were worried that when it came to leftovers it would fall to them to also eat some of Patti’s ‘soup.’
And while both of them loved Patti, neither of them were willing to do that.
“Can I help?” Lemon raised his hand in the air and waved it around. He didn’t wait for an answer from his sister before throwing his blanket off and running closer to the stove. “Papa has been teaching me to cook too! I can help too!” There was no step stool for Lemon to stand on so he was trying his best to peck over the counter, hanging off it while kicking his legs.
“Course’ you can help Lems!!” Patti would have gladly asked for her little brother’s help beforehand but had chosen against it since it was so early in the morning.
She leaned in closer to him, “Truth be told I kinda need help…” Patti had received cooking lessons from both Butter and Cherrypit too but she did have the tendency to panic and turn to rely on instincts on what to do next in the recipe. Which is how her soup had turned out as it had.
“I can help!” Lemon nodded, “Let’s make the best soup ever!!”
“For sure!”
Cherrypit sat down on the kitchen table, watching as the siblings tried to maneuver themselves so they could stand on the same step stool. Standing next to each other, they couldn’t help but almost push the other off.
‘Go ahead Cherry! Go for it!’
‘Stir! Stir!’
‘Wow! You’re like the best stirrer ever! I’ll just stand behind you and watch!’
‘Bebe right here!!’
“...Patti, Lemon? Why don’t you try standing with Patti in the back and Lemon in the front?”
The Starsinger-Moontide siblings looked at Cherrypit like he was a genius. In no time at all they had moved into those exact positions. “Yeah this works!!” Patti looked down at her little brother, “Does this work for you Lems?”
Lemon gave her a happy “Mhhmm!!”
“Thanks tío Cherry!!” Both siblings thanked Cherrypit in unison.
Cherrypit smiled, “Good job you two!” Surely if they needed any more of their help they would ask for it. For now, Cherrypit would just watch over them, just in case they did need help but didn’t want to ask for it. Hopefully he wouldn’t just fall asleep or anything.
There was a small explosion in front of him.
“Oh no! Patti, don't do that!!”
“AUAUUAUWAUHhhhhhhAUU!!!”
…Or maybe he wouldn’t even get the opportunity to go to sleep.
In the end, Patti’s soup proved to be unsalvageable.
Instead, Cherrypit had suggested the idea of making pancakes and waffles instead.
So that was exactly what Patti and Lemon decided to do. Pancakes for their mama and waffles for their papa! With a bunch of fruit that Cherrypit took upon himself to cut because while he trusted his nephew and niece with his life, he was not letting them near anything even resembling a knife.
Patti looked over their handiwork and let out a cheer. “Yeah!! We did it! We’re the best!” She looked over at the clock, it was just a little past seven. “And we did it before papa and mama woke up!! Ha ha!!”
Cherrypit yawned, “Good job…” He hoped that for some reason Babycorn and Butter would decide to sleep in today. If anything just to give him some time to sleep, even if it was only for an hour.
Lemon cheered alongside his sister, “We did it! We did it!”
Then he let out a gasp. “Wait-!” Before anyone could stop him, he had run over to the fridge and had started looking around for something only he knew he was looking for.
“What’re you doing over there, Lems?” Patti asked, trying to peek over his shoulder. Which was not a very hard thing to do in actuality.
“I’m looking for…Ah-ha!” Whatever it was that he was looking for he managed to find by the sound of it.
“Can we add this?” In Lemon’s hands was a jar of freshly caught shrimp, “I think mama and papa would like it on their food!” It made sense. Both mama and papa really liked eating shrimp and if they put it on their pancakes and waffles they would like it even more!!
Patti and Cherrypit looked at each other, nervously.
#ffxivwrite2023#lemon#cherrypit#patti#patti cant cook well consistently sorry patti i have given this trait to you#cherrypit wont ever outgrow or stop using his freaky powers its just him i think#not sure about their age range during this but patti is probably like middle teens and lemon is like 6 idk#theyre small#babycorn tried to be cool and cook food for everyone she liked but i think she just gave everyone food poisoning#i love lemon#hes just a little guy...................#him and his little chocobo chick so tiny#patti babies him and also teases him about liliru#yes cherrypit is wearing big nunh socks they were originally babycorns#alongside the pajamas lemons pajamas used to be cherrypits too#oh right the little thing on the fish is a piece of butterscotch candy :)
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Ever wondered where most pet shop rats come from? - Take a look inside a Rodent Farm
Written by Estelle Sandford & published in Pro-Rat-a 163
The following images were originally posted on the Fancy Rats forum by Carla who lives in the Netherlands, but it gives you an idea of what the inside of a rodent farm actually looks like and where the vast majority of rats you will find in pet shops and pet sections of garden centres start out their lives. Carla is studying animal science and as part of her studies was invited to visit a rodent farm and the owner was happy to allow pictures to be taken by Carla and was happy to answer any questions that were asked.
Although this particular rodent farm is in the Netherlands, similar set ups are used by rodent farms in many countries, including the UK. For pet shops/garden centres, sadly it makes sense for them to be able to source all their live and frozen ‘stock’ from the same place and many will not have knowledge or even care about what is really going on behind the closed doors as these animals are just profit to them. Quite often, staff in these shops will have no idea where their livestock comes from or are told to say ‘local breeder’ while management hides the source from them. Many of these rodent farms were originally set up to supply the growing herp market needing frozen rodents, but the pet market off the back of that was an easy one for them to step into, particularly as more and more chain stores and garden centres now sell small animals. (Great way to attract the impulse buyer and kids into your shop!)
When you look at the kind of numbers involved and the set up, it is clear that the animals cannot be handled much as babies and understandable why perhaps so many mistakes are made on sexing them before they send them to pet shops at 5 weeks old, but these places won’t care as their business is making more, so they often offer pet shops to do ‘sale or return’ and send them back to be frozen after the pet shop has continued feeding them up for an extra few weeks.
If you ever needed a reason not to buy your pets from pet shops, the below should give you some food for thought!
Carla wrote the below text and has given permission for her images and text to be reproduced for NFRS Pro-Rat-a and also my Ratz website.
“This man breeds mice, rats, hamsters, guinea pigs, rabbits, lemmings, degus and gerbils. He also had a few ornamental birds and a couple of owls. The rats are housed in pairs or in groups of three; lactating does are housed separately with their young. The does are constantly pregnant or lactating. When they are done breeding, they become snake food; the same goes for ill and old rats or those that cannot be sold (deformities, etc). The rats are fed rodent blocks and a few extras like bread, cat kibble and some vegetables. They are kept on hemp type bedding.
He breeds all kinds of rats: double rex, naked, rex, dumbo, but also top-eared, normal fur, etc. The rats are of various colours but he is most proud of his blues, who are prize winning. He showed a blue male that sat very quietly and contently in his arms; this rat was only handled once a week, during clean out, and even so it was sweet as pie. He particularly appreciated the character of blues, who he said were tamer (although I suspect this can be attributed to his 'lines' rather than the colour as a whole). For new varieties, blood and upkeep, he obtains some animals from Czech Republic, where prices are low but quality is poor; but he prefers rats from the UK, as that's where he could get the special colours and rats of good quality. The animals are sold mainly to pet shops.”
The Pictures
The hall. In front, in the white things are the guinea pigs; behind it are feeder mice and rabbits; in front on our right are mice, hamsters and gerbils; rats are in the back.
The Rat Housing
What can we do to reduce this trade?
If the above pictures have opened your eyes and made you really think that you would like to stop the rodent farm trade, the best possible thing we can do individually is to educate, educate, educate! Individuals can make a difference; they just have to spread the word.
Stop buying live animals from pet shops/garden centres yourself and also stop buying any products from any shop selling animals. Support the ones that sell no livestock instead.
Educate others in a calm, rational and non-judgemental way to follow your lead so as to hit the shops hardest in their profit margins!
Write to these pet shops and tell them why you are taking your trade elsewhere. There is no point in walking away and not letting these shops know why you will no longer shop there.
Write to your local MP and D.E.F.R.A - these places will exist as long as they are legal and people continue to support buying small animals from pet shops.
Promote and support genuine breeders and rescue centres by using them yourself and pointing others in the right direction and away from pet shops.
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15 days of fatt - day 6: haunted/ghost
also on ao3!
~
Hella took a breath. “Hey, so.” She grabbed Adaire’s hands across the dinner table, trying to ignore her own discomfort. “I’ve been really enjoying hanging out. Totally want to keep doing it.”
Adaire’s brows were knit. To her credit, this was, well, uncharacteristically earnest might be how Lem would put it. “Me too…?”
“Great. Great. So I need to be totally honest with you.”
Adaire shifted. “Okay.”
“I,” Hella said, “have a girlfriend. Another one. Not that you’re my- I mean, you could be, but we’re also just hanging out, I just want you to know that-“
“Hella!” She took a breath and focused back on Adaire. “That’s fine,” she said. “As long as she knows about me-“
“She does,” Hella said quickly. “I wouldn’t, like, go behind her back-“
“Then it’s fine.”
“Great.” She took a breath. “I just, y’know, wanted to be upfront with you.”
“I appreciate it,” she said with a nod.
Hella took another breath. “Also. My other girlfriend… is a ghost.”
“What?”
~
Hella felt a familiar nervousness as she opened the door. “So this is my place.”
“Looks nice,” Adaire said, looking around.
“I’m gonna, uh,” Hella gestured around her. “I’m gonna keep the big light off. You’ll see in a second. Adelaide,” she called, “I’m back! With company!”
A second later, and the draft and the creaks of the apartment building had turned into a woman - Adelaide, looking as elegant as usual. She smirked at Hella, then at Adaire. “Hello there.”
“Hi.” Hella turned to watch her look Adelaide up and down. For a second she saw her through Adaire’s eyes: the sweater and slacks and pearls that spoke of a moneyed life in a time decades past, the way she faded slightly into the dark corners of the room. “Hm.”
She smirked a little wider. “Yes?”
Adaire looked at her for another moment, then rooted in her purse. Before Hella could fully process what was happening, she was pulling a small object out and tossing it to the other side of the room. Maybe at Adelaide was more correct.
Either way, it passed straight through her abdomen. Adelaide fully grinned. “Quite rude.”
“Sorry,” Adaire said unapologetically. “I’m not the biggest of believers.”
“You could have just taken my word for it,” Hella said as Adaire crossed the room to pick up the thing she had thrown. She could see now that it was a tin of Altoids.
“No I couldn’t have.” She stepped around Adelaide, despite clearly knowing that she could go straight through. “It’s not personal though, Hella, I hope that’s obvious.”
“I appreciate your skepticism,” Adelaide said. “Hella, dear, all your many admirers should react to me this way.”
“I don’t have-“ Hella rubbed between her forehead. “She’s teasing.”
“I can tell,” Adaire deadpanned.
Adelaide laughed. “Oh, we’re going to get along great, I can tell.”
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Max sighed, scribbling down the last of his notes. He'd grown tired of prison life, of listening to all the vulgar inmates drone on about pointless subjects, making pointless confessions, starting pointless fights. His mission was nearly at an end, but he couldn't help but feel he'd wasted his time. After all, he'd only succeeded in converting a handful of men, and they were so dense he almost considered it a detriment to his practice.
"Hey, vicar!" a voice shouted from the hall.
Max looked up from his desk, seeing young Reginald Chaney scamper into his office. He looked excited, unusually so. There wasn't much to be happy about in Tartarus, so seeing him bounce up and down like a child at Christmas was off-putting.
"One moment."
"Oh, come on! You'll love this!"
Max frowned, finishing his sentence. As was the case with many in the compound, he didn't like Chaney, but he was at least less irritating than the others. Small time, in comparison, and he told him about a forbidden book he intended to track down once he left, so he tolerated him on that basis. Before answering again, he clicked his pen and placed it next to his notebook.
"What brings you to see me, Mr. Chaney?"
"Lem!"
Max raised a brow. "Mr. Harris brought you to see me?"
"Yes! I mean, no! Kind of? You won't believe it, but he managed to smuggle in a bottle of spectrum vodka!"
The good vicar gulped. His throat was parched and he hadn't had a proper drink in ages. How Lem managed to convince the guards to cooperate was a mystery, but he wasn't about to look a gift canid in the mouth.
"And he's sharing?"
"Yeah! In the laundry room! Let's go!"
It seemed too good to be true, but free alcohol was free alcohol. So as not to seem desperate, Max kept a cool pace, briskly walking to the laundry room with a look of disinterest. Once he arrived, the door shut behind him, loudly, and he spun around, startled by the sound.
"Oh, Mr. Rodriguez."
The man, Carlos Rodriguez, smiled maliciously. Max disregarded it, since his face usually looked daunting, but when he faced forward, he saw Lem, Chaney, and three other men, Ernie, Oscar, and Tye, staring into his soul.
Something was wrong.
"What is this?" Max demanded, bunching his fists. "Whatever you're planning, you know it won't end well for you."
Lem laughed, snapping his fingers. "Grab him."
Before he could react, Carlos, who outshined him in every physical sense, had him in a chokehold. Leaving nothing to chance, the other three men jumped at his legs, tackling him to the floor. He fought back, but after a while of struggling and calling for help, his age got the better of him. It was exhausting, wrestling against younger men he could never hope to overpower; and to make matters worse, he'd skipped lunch to record his notes. He was hungry and tired, his screams wearing to thin, harmless threats.
"What are you doing?!" Chaney cried, proving his innocence in the assault.
"You'll see," Lem grinned. "Prop him up."
The men did, laying the stunned vicar on a big metal table, slightly elevated. They used it to fold laundry, and to keep it from being used as a weapon, it was bolted to the cement. Max kicked and punched, but nothing he did mattered. If anything, he just looked silly trying. As he snarled in protest, he watched Lem, who was close to his own age, step between his thighs, then flip his cowl and cut his pants from his legs.
"What are you--?! No! Stop!"
Mere seconds had passed. That's all it took. Time froze as Max laid there, eyes wide as the cool air brushed over his clit, now naked and displayed to everyone in that little room.
"So it's true!" Lem cheered, clapping his hands. "I knew there had to be a reason you were processed separately! We should've done this a long time ago!"
"Wh-what in the Void?" Chaney puffed, stepping back.
"He's got a pussy!" Lem yelled, his tone haunting. "That's why they gave him his own private quarters. That's why he showers at different times. That's why he's treated so special." He leaned in, grabbing Max's jaw so hard it hurt. "I knew it. You've been acting all high and mighty this whole time, pretending you were 'assigned' here, but you weren't. You're a prisoner, just like the rest of us."
Max gagged as he tried to escape Lem's crushing grip. "F-fuck you!"
"How does it feel, vicar? Knowing you're just as sleazy and sinful as the rest of us?"
"I'm nothing like you!" he spat, trying to bite the fingers that dug into his skin.
Lem growled, then finally let him go, laughing as Max cracked his jaw. There would definitely be some bruises left on his cheeks after that. The vicar was tough, but in his old age he'd lost quite a bit of his resilience.
"You're right, in a way," Lem taunted. "I don't have a hole between my legs."
The men chuckled in response.
"It's pretty fucking weird," Carlos agreed, his bulky arms wrapped around Max's shoulders. "Is it safe to fuck him?"
Max's eyes bulged. He already knew what they intended, but hearing it out loud made his heart race. He couldn't believe it was really happening.
"I dunno. Let's find out."
Max flinched as Lem spread his folds gently, his fingers cold to the touch. He was shocked he was being so careful, but it was still absolutely humiliating. The men, maintaining their hold, all hunched forward, trying to get a better look from where they stood. It was easy for Oscar and Tye, who hugged his legs and kept them parted, but harder for Carlos and Ernie, who grappled with his arms. Carlos was like a wall, with Max sat against his chest, while Ernest clutched his wrists to keep his arms from flailing.
"I can't see shit," Carols complained.
"Don't worry. You'll get your chance, big guy."
"Well, at least describe it to me."
"It's nice and rosy," Lem grinned, sucking on his fingers and spreading the vicar wider. "Tight, too. I always new you were more 'delicate' than you let on."
"Damn you!" Max yelled, writhing in defiance. "When I get out of this I'm going to--auugh!"
He shot back into Carlos' chest, crying out as Lem jammed two of his fingers inside, suddenly. They slipped in with some difficulty, halted by the resistance, but they persisted. Lem stopped only when he couldn't go any further, obstructed by his knuckles, then swirled around inside, rubbing the vicar's walls with deranged curiosity.
"Very wrinkly," he hissed, thrusting in a slow, tantalizing manner. "Very nice texture."
"T-take them out!" Max shook, the feeling far too abrupt. "Grrk! Get the fuck out of my body!"
Chaney, feeling sick, gathered his courage and yanked on Lem's arm, plucking his fingers from Max's now throbbing hole. It spasmed in response as Max gasped, stunned by the sudden emptiness after such an intrusive penetration, but he was grateful.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" Lem yelled, turning his sights on Chaney.
"N-nothing!" he yelped, holding his hands up in submission. "I-it's just ... this is wrong. It's wrong! You can't do this!"
Lem growled like a caged animal, backing the weaker man into a corner.
"I can do whatever I want, pipsqueak." He grabbed Chaney's collar, earning a pitiful yelp. "If you don't wanna hit that pussy, that's your choice, but don't think I'm gonna let you ruin this for the rest of us."
Chaney shivered, cowering at Lem's vicious expression. He'd killed men for less. Honestly, he was surprised Lem held back, his hand only semi-tight around his throat. Seeking support, he looked over to the other men, but they all bore a similar gaze, making it clear where they stood. Then, he looked at Max, who stared at him with soft, desperate eyes.
"Help me..." he begged.
For the first time in a long time, he felt vulnerable, afraid. He didn't stand a chance. Chaney was truly his only hope. He nodded to him, praying he understood. All he had to do was tell a guard. Just one and he would be rescued.
"I'm sorry," he peeped, inching away. "I'm sorry."
"Ch-Chaney?"
"They'll kill me, Max. I ... I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"
He ran to the door, hurled it open, then dashed out, slamming it behind him. Max laid with his mouth agape, his stomach turning. That was his only chance, and it was gone.
"Now, where were we?" Lem asked, cracking his fingers. "Oh, right. We were just about to help ourselves."
Max thrashed about, jerking his body left and right, but he was no match for his assailants. Again Lem's cold, rugged fingers dipped inside, stretching his walls as they wriggled through. Max grit his teeth, grunting loudly as he tried to force them out, his cheeks blushing from both the shame and pleasure the breach quickly triggered.
"What are you so upset about?" Lem grinned, thrusting deeper. "You should be thanking us. I mean, when was the last time you even came?"
"S-stop this! When the warden finds out he'll--!"
"He won't do shit," Oscar chimed. "Like Lem said, your just a prisoner, same as us. The warden doesn't give two fucks what happens to you."
Max whimpered. He was right. He knew he was right. He'd always known, but he couldn't admit it. Not until now. Not until the worst possible moment. When he actually needed help, he knew none was going to come. After all, he was in Tartarus. He closed his eyes and prayed to the Architect, but his plea was interrupted by a tempting pressure on his clit.
"Aaugh!"
He looked down, seeing Oscar tug and message his hardening little nub, while Lem's fingers upped their pace.
"Oh, he likes that," Lem said, twisting his wrist. "Made him pucker tighter than my first prom date. Keep doing that."
"Not a problem, boss."
"S ... stop."
He couldn't take anymore. Both men molested every sacred part of his body, while the others cheered them on. Carlos joined in, pinching his sensitive nipples through his cowl, the wool chafing his skin in all the right ways. It felt amazing. Despite being held so firmly against his will, the wicked pleasure swelled through his system, his juices flowing and head spinning. He hadn't been touched in years, just as Lem predicted, and if they kept it up, he wouldn't be able to resist.
"Stop! Please! I ... I'm begging you!"
"Why? Are you gonna cum?"
Max bit his lip, the sheer vulgarity of that question cutting him to his core. Of course he was, but he didn't want to. He tried to ignore the rough, jagged fingers working through him, the sting in his nipples, the heat on his clit. A triple attack. Years of chastity came to a fierce end, his cunt pulsing as he failed to hold back.
"N-no! I'm cumming! Aaauhh!"
The men laughed, working harder as they rode his orgasm.
"Thanks for telling us!" Lem mocked.
He pulled out, grinning as the vicar fell victim to his own ecstasy. It felt so good. He trembled against Carlos, his legs seizing, his forehead swelling with veins. In trying to prevent his orgasm, it somehow hit harder, leaving him spent and breathless. His chest heaved, his tongue slightly hung as he tried to recover as quickly as possible, but to his horror he'd lost all control.
"Was that good?" Lem asked, petting his head. "Your hole's winking at me, so my bet's on yes."
"Enough with the banter," Carlos interrupted. "Let's just get on with it. I've gotta go last and I'm already aching in my pants."
Max gasped, feeling Carlos' hard cock pushing against his back. Regaining some coherence, he looked at the other men, and to his dismay realised they were all bulging, eager to break free. A jolt of adrenaline erupted inside him as he again tried to escape their grasp, but even with that boost of scenery, he was still no match for his fellow inmates, who pinned him down with even more force.
"Spread his legs wider," Lem instructed.
He pulled his cock from his pants, stoking it readily, while the men did as asked, opening Max wider for Lem's convenience. He moved in, finding a comfortable position as he lined the tip of his cock with Max's entrance, then flicked it a few times to get it wet and slippery.
"Don't!" Max cried, striving to close his legs. "Please, don't do this! You don't have to do this!"
"No," Lem smirked. "I just want to."
He pushed in, and Max screamed, throwing his head back as he felt a sharp but soothing heat slip through his tunnel and bang against his cervix. Sadly, he'd been raped before, but Lem was unusually thick. His hole, confused, wrapped tightly around the cock that so rudely intruded, trying to protect itself, but also trying to adjust. It wanted this.
"Fuck, that's tight!" Lem groaned. "Oh, yeah!"
The lights flickered as Max stared at the ceiling, drool rolling down his chin. Lem was a criminal. A disgusting, narcissistic, murderous criminal. He smelled of oil and sweat and blasphemed against the Architect daily, and now he was inside him. Max clawed at the air, his lips pursing as he screeched for help.
"Someone! Anyone! I'm in here! Please!"
"Shut up and take it," Lem huffed, grabbing his waist. "I know you like it."
He bucked his hips. Max felt it, all ten inches thrusting in and out, rubbing against his tender walls. He'd only cum once, but it was intense, and recent. He wasn't ready for more. His eyes squinted shut, tears welling under his lids as he fell into the rocking. He couldn't lie, it felt incredible. It felt dangerous. He tried to ignore what was happening, but the pleasure was relentless.
"Get it, boss!"
One of the men shouted. Max wasn't sure who, though. He couldn't tell them apart anymore. Carlos continued rubbing his nipples as his clit smacked painlessly against Lem's pot belly. It only took a few minutes until he came again, earning a loud grunt from Lem, who fucked him through his palpitations.
"Did you just cum?" he laughed. "Again?"
"Did he?"
"He fucking did! I can feel him vibrating on my dick!"
"S-s-stop!" Max begged, his mind dizzy. "Please!"
"Nah, I'm too close."
He kept thrusting, his moans rapid as he felt his own orgasm rushing to the surface. He sounded like a dog, lost in the moment, focused on only one thing: driving into Max's cunt.
"N-not inside!" he roared, sensing Lem was close as his fingers dug into his hips. "Don't cum inside!"
To his surprise, the man pulled out, but the deception was short lived.
"Spread his hole," Lem said, nodding to Oscar and Tye.
They did as ordered, spreading his hole while still keeping his legs locked under their arms. Lem smiled sadistically, violently stroking his cock, then shot directly into Max's hole. The vicar choked, the cruel violation breaking his mind. He could feel stream after stream blast into him, all the way to his end, until Lem was empty and hunched over his stomach.
"Fuck..." he whispered, catching his breath. "Law, that was good."
"Wh-why?" Max sobbed, feeling the mess slowly drip out onto the table. "How could you?"
"Oh, don't give me that look," Lem teased, patting his cheek. "I'm not the only one."
As if rehearsed, Lem switched places with Tye, who just as quickly dropped his pants and dove into Max's swollen pussy. Again he cried out, but no one heard him. No one was coming to save him.
Tye was just as big as Lem, and possibly even thicker, riled on by the depravity. He fucked him passionately, almost racing to cum, likely because he'd been in jail the longest and was therefore desperate for release.
"You're right, he's so fucking tight!" Tye laughed, heartlessly. "Law, he feels great!"
"We'll loosen him up," Lem promised, playfully slapping his back. "Just fuck him. Hard as you can."
"No more!" Max begged, but it didn't stop.
The thrusting didn't stop.
Max came with his assailant, his face boiling as Tye filled him to the brim, his balls dancing against his ass. He couldn't believe he came three times in a row, but more than anything else, he hated that each orgasm was better than the last.
"Fuck, that's exactly what I needed..." Tye huffed, appeased for the first time since his arrest.
He took a moment to recover before backing out and switching places with Oscar.
"Y-you can't be serious!" the now disheveled vicar cried, his hair no longer kempt and tidy. "L-let me rest at least! It's too sensitive now!"
Oscar shook his head, gesturing to his dick. Reluctantly, Max looked down, seeing a tiny bead of precum oozing from his slit.
"Sorry, man. I'm not waiting."
Stars filled Max's eyes as another cock pushed in, reaching his end. It slammed him mercilessly, zapping the last of his strength. He felt ready to pass out, kept conscious only by the intense pleasure corrupting his mind. A brief thought occurred as he wondered if he'd be able to handle the last two men, before his voice rattled the walls with a myriad of broken screams. He came again, his hole looser and gushing as the mixture of white scrambled to find a way out; but not all of it did before Ernie plugged him, grabbing his shoulders to thrust deep inside him.
"Please!" Max wailed, needing it to end. "I'll give you anything! Anything!"
"You don't need to give us anything," Lem chuckled. "We're taking what we want. Just like you always say, Vicar. Fortune favors the bold."
"Agh! Aaaugh!"
Max couldn't muffle his sounds. It was hopeless. Utterly hopeless.
"Yeah. Fuck him, Ernie," Lem said, catered by the show. "How's he feel?"
"Good, but I hate sloppy thirds. Wish I could've gone first. Or at least second."
"Yeah, well how do you think I feel?" Carlos griped. "I'm dying over here. Hurry up already."
"Aw, no way, man. I'm gonna make this last as long as possible."
Max mewled. Ernie's thrusts were deep and heavy, but slow. He was true to his word. He intended to drag it out. Though Max was so raw by that point, that after a few pumps, he came again, choking on his screams.
"Ooh, yeah. I can feel it in there. That's right, cum on my dick, holy man."
Ernie seemed pleased, proud of being the cause, but Carlos lost his patience. With a groan, he removed his shirt and wrapped it tightly around Max's wrists, binding them together, then lifited him off the table and held him against his chest, cradling his legs.
"Hey! What in the void are you doing?!" Ernie yelled. "Give him back!"
"If you want him, go ahead," Carlos offered, but slid his impractically large cock up into Max's dripping gape, still standing on his feet.
"Aaugh! No! Please!"
He tried to reach back, to escape, but Carlos was far too powerful. He held Max tightly, his fingers digging into his thighs as Ernie stared. Max looked so pathetic bouncing up and down, against his will, his fluids spurting from his swollen clit. Sad, but somehow handsome.
Ernie understood. With a grin, he squished himself between Max and Carlos and squeezed his dick between Max's walls and the Carlos' length. It took some effort, but eventually he managed to fit all the way in, his thirst insatiable; and Max squealed.
It was mesmerising. The stretch. The burn. The ecstasy. Two cocks stuffed in his pussy, tearing it apart in the best way imaginable. The defeated priest couldn't even scream. He felt himself crushed between two men, their bodies rubbing into his as they bucked their hips, finding a rhythm.
It was too much.
With nowhere to go, Max threw his arms over Ernie's head and buried his face in his shoulder, desperate for something to hold onto. He hated those men, what they were doing made him nauseous, but he couldn't deny himself. The desire to cum again, even just one more time, even though it was staunchly against his doctrine, made him bellow in delight.
"Please!" he cried, his fingers curling in their bindings. "Don't do this to me!"
"Do what?" Carlos laughed, ramming into the vicar's cervix. "Rape you?"
Max wept. That is what they were doing, but it felt so good. The drags of society were molesting every inch of his body, destroying his innocent hole, and it felt good. The shame was palpable as he muzzled himself against Ernie's nape, tears rolling down his cheeks.
The two cocks rattled inside him, complimenting each other as they filled him over and over, redefining his limit. He could hear them slapping his thighs, moaning as their own pleasure spiked. If the horror continued, he was certain he'd die, his soul completely enraptured before departing. For a split second, he wondered if he'd be damned, and for a split second after, he realised he didn't care.
"Fuck, I'm cumming!" Ernie exclaimed, thrusting faster.
"Me too!"
Both men upped their pace, slamming into Max as they sandwiched him like a piece of salami. He was drenched in sweat, the friction pulling on their skin, but they all felt a paradise between their legs. Max was so wide, his hole wrecked as they sawed into it, two intruders spoiling his most precious secret--now their secret.
His hole. Their toy.
He came as they came. One final load, though twice the size, exploded inside him, filling him so much a slight bulge formed in his stomach. All three men wheezed, worn out and shaking with pleasure. It took a moment, but eventually Ernie slipped out, followed by Carlos, who laid him back on the table.
Once empty, Max's gape shot the mess of five men across the room, his mouth hanging and eyes wandering as he gasped for air. What a disaster.
"Man, he's fucked up," one of the men laughed.
"He's panting like he just ran a marathon," another added.
"Best pussy I've ever had."
Max closed his eyes, sobbing, his hole flexing. He felt so good he couldn't move. Carlos removed the shirt from his hands and let them fall to his sides, but again pinned him to the table.
No way, he thought. They wanted more?
"Not bad," Lem smirked, swinging a bottle of spectrum vodka red in his hand; it really existed. "But I'm not done with your righteous ass yet."
"Don't you mean pussy?" Carlos laughed.
"I guess so, yeah. It's pretty stretched now, so what do you say, preacher? Want a drink?"
Max gulped loudly. He shook his head, cowering as Lem flipped the bottle and pressed the bottom into his loose, tattered entrance.
And then it forced in.
Max gnashed, the hard, lengthy glass slowly rubbing against his throbbing tunnel. It was cold, snuffing the heat that had fizzled inside him. When the bottom hit his cervix, he screamed, unprepared for the wave of ecstasy that barreled up his spine.
"Is that good?" Lem teased, twisting the base. "Let's drill it a bit."
Max grunted, exhausted from the abuse. He couldn't believe he wasn't numb yet. It was fanatic, and he hated it.
"No more!" he begged, his sanity cracking. "Architect, please!"
He shook his head, feeling his walls clench tightly around the object. Before, he was disgusted, but now he was scared. He worried he might shatter the glass, but Lem showed zero concern. Laughing wildly, he began to thrust, hard and fast, fucking the poor vicar as if the bottle was a dildo.
Max's hole was so sore, thinned out from the scrubbing, and the bottle that he craved so much, that lured him into this trap, was far too thick. He shouldn't have been able to grip it, yet he did, his crease clinging to the label as it extracted. It looked painful, but there wasn't a hint of pain. Not a trace. Aside from Lem grabbing his jaw, they hadn't hurt him once, and that bothered him worst of all.
His hole betrayed him.
"Fuck, boss..." Ernie wheezed, feeling hot. "His cunt's so red."
"He's crying," Tye added. "Look at his face. He looks so embarrassed."
"Aw, are you embarrassed, vicar?"
"Who cares? Fuck him harder!"
The men loved watching it. As Lem plunged the instrument with a furious vigor, the men began to stroke their flaccid cocks. Each one stared at the man who'd tried to convert them for months, fixated on his hole. It was brutal. They could tell Max was losing his mind, the pleasure piqueing.
"Fuck, this is so good," Tye said, stepping closer.
"Wreck him!"
Soon they were hard again, their arms pumping fast, their cocks throbbing. Max's vision was blurred, but he heard them when they came in unison, and he felt it when their seed sprayed him from every direction. He gagged, covered from head to toe in their sticky, filthy seed.
The cruelty.
The disrespect.
He came.
"Aaaaauuuugh!"
As Lem stopped, taking a much needed break, the other men tucked themselves back into their pants. Once free, Max collapsed on the table, seizing against the metal, his hole gushing. It looked terrible, hysterically stretched and winking as a mix of semen and his own fluids sprayed onto the floor.
The poor vicar lost himself in the ecstasy, sobbing like a wounded animal. He couldn't see or hear anything, he could only feel. He wasn't sure how long he stayed like that, and at some point he was certain he must have passed out, but when he woke the pleasure was still there, nipping at ever nerve as he slowly--very slowly--recovered.
"What are we doing now, boss?"
Max batted his eyes, the room watery and bright. He couldn't get his bearings. The light above his head spun around, constricting his pupils. Everywhere was hypersensitive. The memory of what happened, the humiliation, the rape, came flooding back. He must've looked so foolish, half naked and moaning with a chasm between his crippled legs.
"Yeah, boss. What we gonna do? Should we take him back to his cell?"
Max coughed. Even though he was exhausted, still teeming with euphoria, a rage consumed him. He hadn't felt it in a long time, but he knew what it was.
His violent enthusiasm.
"I'm not done with him," Lem said, his voice weary. "I just need ten, maybe twenty minutes. Lemme recuperate before I get back to it."
He put the bottle down next to Max's face, not noticing he was awake, then caught his breath.
"We're gonna keep going?" Oscar asked, confused. "Don't you think it's enough?"
"Yeah, boss. We fucked him pretty hard."
"Gotta agree," Carlos piped. "Keep it up and we might actually destroy him. Like, for real. I don't know about you, but I enjoyed that. I'd like his hole to last until he's released. Wouldn't mind a few more rounds with it tomorrow, but not if it's all gashed and peeled."
"Don't get all soft on me now!" Lem warned. "Have you forgotten what an insufferable ass he's been? He deserves worse."
Max felt a monstrous urge to do harm. As Lem continued his speech, he wrapped his fingers around the bottle of vodka, taking it into his hand.
"Let's just leave it for today," Carlos argued. "He needs water, food, some rest. You wanna kill him?"
"I don't care if we fuck him to death!" Lem admitted. "Like I said, he deserves wors--!"
The glass smashed to pieces as it impacted the back of Lem's head, sending him piling to the floor. The men watched in shock as the vicar, with an unfounded jolt of energy, leapt onto his tormentor and rolled him onto his back. Their eyes met, but only for a moment before he jammed what was left of the bottle into Lem's right eye. It cut deep, just enough to maim him. His screams were visceral, so horrifying that Ernie and Oscar covered their ears. Carlos and Tye, however, sprinted to their friend's aid.
But in the few seconds Max had the old man in his clutches, he saw red. He drove his fists into his face, over and over, carrying on even when Lem started gagging on his own teeth. Blood stained the blue concrete beneath them, the sound of bone and flesh being pulverized echoing off the walls. His own knuckles split with how hard he punched, but he didn't feel a thing.
"Stop!" Carlos screeched, ramming into Max so hard he flew across the room.
Just like before, time froze. He was in the air for what felt like an eternity, and Architect willing, he wished he could've been. He crashed into a washing machine with a bellowing thud, then crumpled to the floor, his body reeling. The last thing he saw was Carlos and Tye carefully picking their leader up, presumably to rush him to the clinic, and Oscar's hands reaching for his wrists.
---------------------------------------------------
The vicar sat on his bed, the peaceful hum of the Unreliable a soothing comfort. He felt a wave of emotions wash over him as he spread his legs and looked at himself in the mirror, his brow furled. He hadn't dreamed about that day in quite a while, and he hoped it was finally behind him, but he should've known better. He lowered his head, defeatedly parting his folds to get a better look. As usual, his pussy was mangled, his clit distended and hole permanently cursed with a small but noticeable gape. Worst of all, it was leaking again, wet and throbbing.
"I know," he huffed, standing suddenly and pulling up his pants. "You just can't listen to me, can you?"
His eyes heavy, he rushed to the bathroom, mired in a lust he hated feeling. As much as he tried to fight it, he always succumbed. He had to or the ache would only get worse. As soon as the door slid closed, he reefed his pants down and sat over the toilet.
"I can't keep doing this..." Max whispered. "Nyoka's already noticed how long I take in here."
He said that, but he knew it was wishful thinking.
With a shallow grunt, he rubbed his chest, then lined his entrance with the neck of a bottle of spectrum vodka. He blushed, sweat soaking his brow as his breath warmed the air. He needed it. He didn't want it, but he needed it. His hole pulsed so greedily, so desperate to be fucked. With one final whimper, he gave it what it wanted.
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@citrusfield
the comment about her standards, even though it shouldn’t, kind of stung. “well, yeah. clearly i missed a lot of signs. that’ll teach me to be so superficial, right?” she couldn’t manage even a humorless chuckle, expression morose as she smoothed the pleats of the dress chelsea was so vehemently rejecting. “listen, i know this isn’t fun for you right now, but don’t forget — it’s all going to be worth it.” or so she hoped. “i know you don’t think you’re going look good, but believe me, all eyes will be on you.” okay, that might not seem as enticing a prospect to chelsea as it would to carina, but hey, she was trying. gaze found the taller woman’s, voice soft as she pointed out, “you were the one who agreed with me that tate deserved to pay for what he did. the only one.” she wouldn’t have taken a chance like this on chelsea if that hadn’t been the case. the other was different, not just a clueless lemming like everyone else at their college. she’d seen through tate’s veneer of perfection and that was just what carina needed to crack it open once and for all. so that everyone would finally turn on him, the way they’d so easily turned on her. if only it could be that simple the other way around. she took a small step closer, maintaining eye contact earnestly. “chelsea, we said we’d be in this together. all the way. do we still have a deal?”
#threads: carina.#citrusfield#something something the inherent homoeroticism of revenge pacts#i cannot articulate this properly but. you understand.
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The Predicament
Prompt: from @october505, I can't get the thought out of my head where Mike is a younger alpha trying to deal with your heat for the first time. Walt, and maybe Sy (both alphas too) are there to guide him through. Just a/b/o stuff.
Characters: Alpha!Mike, Alpha!Walter Marshall, Alpha!Captain Syverson, Fem!Omega!reader. Whew get your holes ready.
Word Count: 2.8k
Warnings: a/b/o dynamics, swearing, smut, penetrative sex, oral sex (m receiving), size kink, knotting, bodily fluids, like a lot of them, just...so much come
A/N: Okay y’all. I’ve never written an a/b/o fic before so please don’t judge too harshly. If I got some details wrong I’m sorry, but this was certainly fun to explore! Written from the reader’s perspective to fit the prompt, however there are size and gender specifics mentioned, so I apologize that it isn’t entirely inclusive. Credit for Mike calling Walter “Boss” goes to @hope-to-hell.
When you’d purchased the little fixer-upper ranch home, you’d seen an opportunity to gain a little independence. A way to work toward something that belonged to you, that you could make fit your needs. Maybe it had been a small defiance on your part, to show that you could still do what anyone else could, despite your status as a small omega.
It turned out to be quite a different story though. The little house needed far more work than you had expected, and you quickly realized you were in over your head. It was time to hire out some help. A lot of help. A few newspaper ads and phone calls later, and you’d found what seemed to be the perfect crew.
The three large alphas had started their own construction business, looking for jobs to showcase their work and get their business off the ground. They were relatively new to the area too. A retired police detective and army Captain, both gruff, hairy, and in their 30’s, as well as the younger one, fresh out of college in his mid 20’s with an English degree and no idea what to do with it yet. After they’d offered to cut you a deal, being one of their first customers, you’d agreed to hire them quickly. That was how you’d found yourself in this predicament.
—————
Your heat started slowly. At first you barely recognized it as what it was. You’d been outside in the summer sun the last two days, supervising the work the three men were doing on your home, so when the sweat began gathering at the back of your neck, you hadn’t given it much thought. And when that sweat had turned to a full body flush by the second afternoon, you figured perhaps you’d had a bit too much sun, and excused yourself inside for a cool drink.
It helped. Briefly.
Thinking you’d cured your ails, and eager to get back to proving you could be helpful, you made your way to the open front doorway where the three large men were currently arguing over the length of screws needed for the porch boards.
“What’s the prob...lem...uhm…?”
You stuttered over your query as you drew closer, the force of their gathered pheromones hitting you like a brick wall. The sheen of sweat coating their large bodies only amplified the scent, and your head immediately began to swim. Something stirred low in your belly as all three turned to look at you.
“I, uhm...how’s it coming out here? I…thought I’d...check…” your speech slowed as your core heated further and you realized exactly what was happening. Their stares intensified as their bodies turned toward you.
“You feelin’ alright darlin’?” the Captain asked, taking a step toward you, only to stop abruptly as his nostrils flared and his pupils dilated. His look of concern quickly changed to one of hunger. A quiet growl rumbled from his chest unintentionally, causing a shiver to course through your body. You hadn’t noticed the other two drawing nearer, but you heard Walter’s deep baritone wash over you.
“Go back inside, omega.”
The command had you baring your neck on instinct before you caught yourself, a breathy sigh escaping your lips.
To your right, the younger one, Michael, rested his forearm against the doorframe, leaning closer. “I don’t know, Boss...I think I like her right where she is.”
Walter’s large hand gripped the back of his neck, causing Mike’s eyes to widen slightly as he was pulled back. He growled at the larger alpha but didn’t fight, his eyes still trained on you. The Captain still hadn’t moved from in front of you, his eyes intense and dark. When he spoke, his voice was gravel, as though he was fighting with himself to pull the words from his own throat.
“Inside. Lock the door.”
You were grateful for the repeated command, because you didn’t think your feet would have moved on their own. After an eyeful of the three men, their sweat covered muscles, and the two beards that screamed virility, you’d had to fight every instinct within yourself not to beg them to help with your current predicament. You barely managed to close the door, glaring at the lock as you turned the tumbler.
———
“We clean up, we leave. No lingering,” Walter barked out, tension clear in the tendons straining in his arms as he gathered up supplies.
“Boss.”
“No, Mike. Walt’s right, time to go,” Sy stated, struggling against his baser brain to do what needed done. “We’ll come back in a few days to start working again.”
“A few days?? You’re just gonna let her suffer in there? God she smells so fucking good. She needs a knot right now.”
Walter let out a low warning growl, but Mike’s instincts were weighing over his reason. He growled back, almost instantly receiving a smack upside the back of his head from Sy.
“Walt could knock you flat in half a minute. Now get your head on straight Mikey. She’s an unclaimed omega.”
“I’ve been with omegas before.”
“You’ve never taken an omega in heat before. You’d lose your yourself quick and probably do something stupid, try to bite her.”
“I would not, come on. You scented her, I know you did. She needs us.”
Listening to them from the window, your heat-addled brain agreed vehemently with Michael. You didn’t want them to go. They could fix this for you. Why were they leaving?
Get it together, you chastised yourself, letting out a heaving sigh. They were right. You should just lock yourself up in your room and let this pass. That sounded like the right thing to do. That sounds like torture.
You nearly keened as you heard the doors of their truck slam shut and the tires crunch over gravel as they drove away.
————
As it turned out, a few days only made it worse. Their scents were everywhere, marking each area of the house they’d been working in, driving you absolutely insane. Everything was too hot and you’d reduced yourself to wearing nothing but a thin camisole and panties. Your fingers gave little to no relief in your heat. You wanted one thing and one thing only. Well...three things. You were nearly feral by the time they returned.
When the sound of voices came from the porch, announcing their arrival, you would have ripped the door off its hinges in your haste if you could have. As it were, seeing Walter standing in the opening with his fist raised to knock, biceps bulging under his thin grey tee, you were reduced to a single word.
“Alpha.” The word was nothing more than a broken whine.
His eyes darkened, seeing you no more well off than they’d left you, hair mussed and the scent of your slick heat strong around you. “Fuck.”
“Told you she needed us,” Mike growled as he shoved past Walter and strode up to you. His hand captured your chin, tilting your head to nose at your neck, dragging in a lungful of your scent. “I’m going to help you, little one. Would you like that?”
You could only manage a small whimper, nodding your head as your thighs coated with your arousal at his nearness. Your hands unconsciously gripped at his shirt, pulling uselessly at his larger frame. He chuckled darkly.
The Captain belatedly joined the other two in the doorway, surprise coating his features as he took in the sight and scent of you before his chest heaved in a large breath and he groaned.
“Fuckin’ hell. She still not out of it?”
“Not even close,” Walter gritted out, the clear outline of his erection pressing against his jeans. “It would seem we did a disservice after all, leaving her here.”
“Damn right we did. I suppose Mike had the right of it after all,” Sy said, moving closer. His large frame crowded close to you from behind, his beard tickling your cheek as he drew in a deep breath of your scent. You could feel his hard length press into your back as he leaned into you. “You smell so fuckin’ sweet little peach. Shouldn’t’ve made you suffer here all alone.”
Mike’s hands were exploring your body lazily, but he glared at Sy when he touched you, earning a rumble in response from the bull of a man. Walter, easily the largest and most dangerous of the three, seemed to exercise the most control of himself, although even he seemed to be losing the battle. “Enough. She chooses if she wants this.”
The aggression in the air was doing nothing to tame your desperate need to be fucked, so you dug your nails into Mike’s chest through his shirt. “Need you. Now. All of you.”
“Mmm feisty. Don’t worry Sweetcheeks. No more waiting,” Mike said, lifting you up, which allowed you to wrap your legs around his waist, pressing your still-clothed core against his aching bulge. “We’re gonna take good care of you.” He started toward the stairs that would lead to your room, the other two close behind.
Bodily tossing your small frame onto the bed, Mike roughly pulled his shirt over his head, his plush lips stretching wide over white teeth in a wicked, feral grin.
Leaning over you as his hands gripped your shirt and pulled it up, he murmured, “I’m gonna fill you up babe, gonna give you everything you need.”
You could only whimper in response, too far gone in your heat and the excitement of having the three of them there. You arched up as he freed you of your shirt, exposing your breasts to him, begging without words. As he took one into his mouth, a large hand snaked into your hair, tilting your head up to the Captain’s awaiting mouth. He kissed you harsh and deep, tongue tasting you, and you gripped the back of his head to keep him close. Another large hand gripped your other breast before trailing down to your soaked core.
You broke the kiss with Sy, a whine escaping your lips. “No more teasing. Please. I need...now.”
That earned a collective sound of want from the men surrounding you. Mike pulled back, shucking out of his jeans and boxers, his length jutting proudly as he took himself to hand. Walter’s exploring hands went to your panties, tearing them from your body, only to be quickly replaced by Sy’s thick fingers pushing into you.
“God damn Sugar, drippin’ wet for us. You need a knot in you?”
You whined and nodded pathetically, thrusting your hips up against his hand, earning a lusty moan from him. “So fuckin’ eager. Look at you.”
“Move your hand, Sy,” Mike growled. You watched as Sy pulled his fingers from you, using his other hand to free his erection from his jeans before coating his length in your slick, pumping his fist with a groan. Mike’s eager hands flipped you over onto your stomach before pulling your hips back so you settled onto your knees.
The bed dipped, and you looked up to see Walter’s thick, hairy thighs kneeling in front of you, his impressive cock hanging heavy and hard right in your line of vision. You weren’t even sure when he’d shed his clothes, but you couldn’t even think to question it right then. His hand tilted your chin up. Swiping a thumb over the precome coating his tip, he pressed it past your lips and against your tongue. “Suck.”
You did exactly as told, savoring the taste of him as you felt Mike press against your entrance. You bucked against him in need, mewling around Walter’s thumb. “Easy, darling. Let Michael take care of you.”
Your entrance was slick and ready, and he pressed in with a groan. The feeling of finally being full was overwhelming. You’d needed this for so long. You cried out, moving against him, pulling the most delicious sounds from his throat.
As Mike’s hips began to pump, Walter lined his cock up with your mouth, which you gratefully opened to allow him in. The rocking thrusts from behind became more fervent at the sight of you sucking eagerly on Walter’s offering, drawing forth groans from both men. The Captain’s hand played idly with your nipples while he continued to stroke himself, cock coated in your sweet slick.
“Remember, Michael. No biting,” Walt rumbled. “Careful when you tie her. She’s your responsibility right now.”
The rules buzzed in Mike’s ear as his knot began to grow. He knew he had to exercise some control, but as he felt himself swelling with each thrust, his eyes traveled to the sweet, delicate skin at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. He pressed his nose against it, inhaling deeply. Each pump of his hips was pulling the sweetest sounds from your throat, driving him closer and closer to release. He let his teeth graze over your skin, reveling in the feel of your tight warmth. His fingers gripped your hips like iron, pulling you back against his groin, begging entrance for his knot as your cunt struggled to accommodate. He nearly lost all reason as it finally pushed past your entrance and he felt your walls grip around the impossible stretch. The need to claim you overwhelmed him.
Just as his teeth began to apply pressure, he felt thick, strong fingers thread through his hair and grip tight, pulling his head back in a cruel arch. Walter loomed above you both, cock deep in your throat, his eyes boring into Michael’s. “No. Biting.”
The words rumbled from his chest, and the combined sensation of the pain in Mike’s scalp and the fluttering of your cunt were enough to push him over the edge. You cried out around Walter’s cock as Mike thrust his knot in as deep as it would go, locking himself to you. He let out a deep groan as his sac drew tight and he began to release inside you, thick ropes of come spilling into you. The searing warmth of his seed filling you made your walls clench impossibly tight, your vision whitening as your climax consumed you.
Watching you fall apart around Mike was enough to bring Walter over the edge. He thrust deep into your mouth, his cock brushing the back of your throat as he came, feeding you his come as his knot swelled outside of your lips. You swallowed eagerly, the taste prolonging your earlier bliss, causing you to clench again around Michael’s knot. He groaned, spilling more come, making small desperate attempts to thrust despite being locked in place. When he was finished, Walter moved from his place, making room for Sy as he stroked himself to completion. Mike wrapped an arm around your middle, pulling you up against his chest to expose your breasts to Sy, who came with a grunt, one hand squeezing at his knot while the other stroked in a stuttering rhythm, spattering your breasts and chin with his spend.
Walter ran his large fingers over your come-covered breasts, feeding you the other Alpha’s seed before he leaned in to kiss you deeply. When he pulled back, his lips remained on yours, his low voice whispering, “What a good little omega you are.”
Your heart warmed at his praise while your body nearly collapsed from the exhaustion of taking on the pleasure of three alphas at once. Mike’s arms were the only thing keeping you upright at this point.
Sy settled himself on one side of the bed, Walt on the other, leaving space for Mike to lower you down in the center and curl around you, still tied together. They petted and purred, praising you for taking them so well. Cuddled in a cocoon of sated alpha, your heat settled for a short time.
Mike whispered in your ear as you drifted into a hazy sleep, “Get your rest Sweetcheeks. We’ve still got plenty of work to do.”
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