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ovaryacted · 4 months

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hey love!! i was thinking about number 53 with childhood bestfriend!Leon ??

also i loveeeee your writing omg you are sooo talented !!! <3 xoxo

Hey boo!! Thank you for requesting! I think it's crazy I haven't written anything about childhood best friend! Leon when that's the cutest fucking thing ever omg. For this one, I imagine RE2 Leon for the most part in age and appearance, just some very cute fluff with brief pining so I hope you like this because I really had fun writing this out! For context, there's no Racoon City or trauma, just a normal timeline, and Leon lives in Boston in a house where the reader can climb up to his bedroom window from the backyard. And thank you for saying you like my writing, really made my day. :) [ prompt game ]

#53 - "Who crawls through someone’s window at 4 am to go for ice cream?” PAIRING: Childhood best friend! Leon x reader [cw: Fluff, childhood history, little bit of pining] - 1.1k words

Leon was fast asleep in his bed, tucked nicely into his fluffy navy sheets face down in a pillow with drool slipping out of his mouth. He could hear some rattling coming from his window, the noise beginning to stir him from his slumber as he opened his eyes. Disorientated and groggy, he sat up in bed, hair a complete mess and rubbing at the corners of his eyes as he woke up.

Ears perking up to the sound of consistent tapping on the glass of his window, he looked in the direction he heard it, spotting a silhouette that was all too familiar to him. There you were, right on the roof of his bedroom window, the same way you’ve done so many times it became second nature to you. With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, he moved towards you, lifting the window to let you inside.

“Do you know what time it is?”, Leon grumbled, running his fingers through his hair to put it back in place but knowing he there was no point.

“It’s like 4 am, why?”, you said it to him as if it were nothing, offering a teasing grin.

“Some of us actually need to sleep. We can’t all be vampires like you”, he said to you, crossing his arms over his chest as he saw you go towards his bed, flopping onto it as if were your own.

“I couldn’t sleep and I was bored. So I came to bother you”, you replied, closing your eyes and exhaling a deep breath.

“At 4 in the damn morning?”, you gave him a playful shrug, finding enjoyment in his slight irritation. Even if Leon sounded like he was angry, you knew he wasn’t. He could never be mad at you even if he tried.

This wasn’t something out of the ordinary for either of you. Both you and Leon had known each other for so long that anything considered strange to others was seemingly defined as standard in the bubble that was your friendship. It all started with a funny instance at the age of 5, finding Leon on the playground during recess in kindergarten. Curiosity drew you to the young blonde that sat by himself, doodling in a coloring book on one of the picnic tables.

You sat on the opposite side of him, simply watching as he colored in the drawing haphazardly. You didn’t say anything to him, and he didn’t say anything to you, but the both of you developed a form of silent communication. Sometimes, you would draw along with him, silently of course, and rarely, you got lucky and Leon would give you one of his crayons. It became a routine where you both sat at the same table, at the same time, simply sharing a space with each other in a way you both understood.

Until one Thursday, you didn’t come to school because you were out sick. Leon was at his usual spot, at the picnic table with his coloring book, looking for you and wondering where you went. When he couldn’t find any sign of you, he moped for the rest of the day, his mother wondering what had her son in such a weird mood.

When you came back to school the next day, you met with Leon again at the same table, sitting in front of him with the toothy smile you usually wore.

“Where did you go?”, he asked you, speaking to you for the first time since you started to sit with him two weeks ago.

“Got a booboo”, you told him, lifting the sleeve of your shirt to show him the Batman bandaid you had stuck to your skin. His eyes widened the slightest bit, somehow fascinated by the intricate pattern of the adhesive material on your shoulder.

“Woah. Cool!”, and for the first time, you saw Leon’s smile, noticing how he was missing one of his front teeth.

He passed you a piece of paper, watching as you unfolded it to see what it was. It was from yesterday, a stick drawing of you and Leon that he had made when you weren’t here. You cherished that piece of paper as if it were the Monalisa, and when you showed it to your dad the minute you got home, you excitedly told him you had made a friend.

You two have been attached to the hip ever since. From elementary school to high school prom and starting college, you’ve done it all together. And now, here you both were, young adults exploring the world with an unbreakable bond. Some people would pay to have a life connection like that, and it was something neither of you took for granted.

“Can you tell me now why you decided to wake me up this early and didn’t just text me?”, Leon caught how you were wearing one of the many hoodies you had stolen from him. He gave it to you once a few years ago when you were cold, and you never gave it back. Not that he complained, he’d buy as many hoodies as he’d like just so you could steal them later.

“I wanted ice cream, thought you might want to tag along”, you were mischievous, always teasing and bubbly no matter the time of day.

“Who crawls through someone’s window at 4 am to go for ice cream?”, he scoffed at you, thinking this was all unbelievable to him when in reality you were very much in character.

“I do smartass. Are you coming or not? We could go get Dairy Queen, I know you like their sundaes”, you suggested, kicking your feet at the edge of Leon’s bed, already knowing he was going to say yes regardless of the time.

“Fine. But you’re buying me lunch tomorrow for waking me up this damn early”, he sighed, admitting his defeat to your schemes.

“Yeah yeah, grumpy pants. Now go clean yourself up, you have some drool on your cheek”, you said back, hearing Leon chuckle under his breath as he went to the bathroom to freshen up before heading out.

You were his best friend, someone he cherished and wanted in his life for as long as he could have you. He’d do anything for you, absolutely anything you asked or wanted he got for you because all he wants is to see you smile. It’s even better if he’s the reason why you smiled, entranced by the way your cheeks perked up ever since he first saw it when you were kids. If only you knew what he was willing to do to make sure you smiled so much your face grew sore.

Whatever you wanted, you got, because he wants you happy. So long as he was the reason why, that's all that mattered to him.

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

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small-sinclair · 1 year

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Breaking Walls

Vampire!Brahms Heelshire x preg.fem!reader

welcomed reader: @hao-ming-8

Tw: biting, blood, killing/murder, bone breaking, angry Brahms, reader being used as a shield, gun, proofread twice but might have grammar mistakes

You woke up to the sound of the backdoor glass shattering.

Your head jerked up from the pillows, sleep still in your eyes. You didn't want to move because Brahms had you in a cuddle, his face pressed in your stomach, his wild brown curls covering his burn, and he looked so beautiful in your arms. At first, you thought it was nothing but part of a dream, but you heard shoes crunching over broken glass.

You placed a kiss in Brahms's hair before getting up. Maybe it's nothing, but it doesn't hurt to look, right? Maybe Malcolm forgot his keys again? No, he forgets a lot of things but not the keys. Also, it's the middle of the night! He's at home with his two dogs. He can't be here at this hour.

If your mind is playing tricks on you, however, it's worth the trip; you needed a glass of water anyways. Yeah, you can get water from the bathroom sink, but the water didn't taste right? Ever since you got pregnant, you would only drink water from the kitchen sink and nowhere else. If you tired to drink from the bathroom sinks, you would throw-up. Two months in and you're still learning new things. You're tired and sleepy, but water and a mysterious noises called you.

You put on Brahms's jacket and slipped on your bunny slippers, still getting the sleep out of your eyes. You really hoped it was mice breaking something or some very angry racoon throwing rocks like last week. Brahms fought the little guy and killed it with his teeth, his fangs ripping it apart like a dog on a chew toy. You held a funeral for the little guy and had Malcolm get a racoon statue as a grave stone marker. You had Brahms read aloud a written apology to the dead racoon before you lowered the critter into the earth.

R.I.P. Ted the Racoon, who's buried in the backyard, you thought as you sneaked down the steps. Maybe Ted's family has come for revenge. You couldn't help but give a silly smile at the thought of Brahms fighting another racoon. He's so hot cute when his fangs are out. His eyes would shine brighter and his smile looked so breath taking. What a king, my man. He's the Racoon Slayer.

When you got closer to the backdoor, you froze.

Standing by the good china, a taller, stronger man had his back turned as he hurriedly took the good silver from the drawer. Standing next to him, a smaller man in a ski mask held the bag.

Out of reaction, you turned on the lights, making the men freeze.

"What in the hell do you think you're doing?" You snapped confused, sleep finally starting to leave. When you saw the handgun in the back pocket of the smaller man, your eyes grew wide. You did not think this through. "Oh... shit."

The smaller one was the first to jump to run after you as soon as you started towards the staircase again. "Brahms! Brahms, help--!"

His hand covered your mouth as he pulled you backwards, the taller man starting to hurry to get things packed. "Come on, Dylan! We got enough!"

"The bitch screamed for help!" The smaller one shouted. "There's another here!"

The taller man turned, his eyes glowing from under the ski mask. "Then let's get out of here! We got enough silver-!"

Within the walls, the sound of wood breaking and paint chipping echoed. The lights above you flickered and broke, it sounded like a freight train inside the walls. You struggled to get out of his grasp, but he squeezed harder around your skin. If he leaves bruises on you, all type of mercy will go out the window. Your eyes darted around the room as the smaller man took out his gun, taking it off safety.

Suddenly, silence.

You closed your eyes and started to cry silently, a whimper escaping from the back of your throat.

And that's all Brahms needs to hear.

From the right side of the taller man, Brahms burst through the wall roughly, taking down the taller man. The man didn't have time to react as Brahms took a piece of wood and stabbed him in his lower chest, burying it in deep. Brahms threw him to the side, his back snapping as soon as it hit the broken door, and sunk to the floor.

When his eyes flashed to you, his soft puppy eyes turned to a blood red, maskless. He hissed at the man, his fangs bared and bright, his body tense with danger and murder. He looked at you then at the man, hate burning his lungs. How dare he have a gun against your skin. Your his. You're not supposed to feel fear while you're in his house, your home. He promised you that since he married you in the spring.

And the baby--

The gun pressed against your throat as the shorter man said, "Move and she dies, I swear--!"

He didn't finish that statement. In a blink, he was thrown back into the wall, his back going through it. Brahms pushed you away, and you fell on back and scurried away as Brahms entered the wall.

Close your eyes and count to 100, y/n. This is going to be ugly.

The man looked up at horror of Brahms and tried to shot, but Brahms broke his hand. "How dare you," he hissed through his teeth. "How dare you come into my house," his grip tighten, "try to steal my wife away from me," his grip tightened until his bones stated to shatter all over again. The man screamed but Brahms didn't let up. "You threatened her, my darling, with a gun! My y/n with a gun! My child, that she carries, with a bullet!" Brahms twisted his arm back violently, snapping his shoulder in two.

"Please," the man whimpers pathetically. "Mercy--"

"Fuck your mercy," his accent was heavy. "Fuck your begs. It left as soon as you thought it was a good idea," he yanked the man to his feet until he was dangling in the air, "to put my wife and child in harms way!" The more he thought about you almost getting hurt, the more he hated the men. The more he hated the fact that they were in his house. Near you. Touching and bruising you. Scaring you. He hated them. He ate himself. He loves you. "Never again," he growled, his fangs growing longer and sharper. "Never. Again."

With a terrible noise leaving the attacker, the sound of the man's neck being torn from his body made you want to throw-up.

You slowly sat up as you watched Brahms come out of the broken wall, his mouth covered in rich blood from his kill, chest heaving heavily. His eyes scanned the room and saw the other man, who laid across from you, taking shallow breaths. You looked at your husband then back at the man. He didn't do anything wrong to you; he wanted to leave and call it a night! Truth to be told, you felt bad for him. He was just looking for a score, not to be killed by a ragging vampire husband. You looked between him and Brahms as you watched him breath heavily.

"Let me take care of him, doll," Brahms said in his real voice, deep and low, the corner of his lip twitching in anger. "You'll never see him again-"

"Brahms, wait," you were shaky as you stood between him and the dying man. Your hands went up and cupped his cheeks. "Honey, he's almost dead. He didn't hurt me or wanted to harm me; he wanted to leave."

"He came into our house, y/n," Brahms's voice was heavy in anger as he looked at the man gasping. "I can take care of the rat."

"Then make it fast?" You asked. "I don't want him to suffer more than he already has, okay?" You thumbed away some of the blood on the corner of his mouth. "He's done nothing wrong towards me." His eyes fell back on you, and his soft brown and blue eyes returned. He leaned into your hands and took deep breaths, but your hands left him, lowering them to your side.

He looked at you confused as you were careful to step away and over the broken glass. You crouched next to the dying man and held his hand. Your grandmother said that it's bad to die alone, and it's the worst feeling in the world. You frowned as you listened to his broken apologies, and you offered a sad smile.

"Thank you for not hurting me," you whispered. "I'm sorry that it has to be this way."

You felt Brahms standing over you, and you looked up, letting him know that you were ready, that it was okay for him to do the kill. You know it's in his nature, but he always made sure you're not in the room. He helps you stand and ushered you out of the room to the front hallway.

He kisses your hands, whispering in his voice, "Be right back, y/n."

"Please, Brahms," you said again, taking his hand. "Please be good? Make it fast?" He doesn't answer you, but he squeezed your hand and left you alone.

You stand and wait alone in the dark. You held your stomach as you waited, nervous and scared. The moments later, the light turned off and Brahms emerged from the darkness. He lowered his head on your shoulder and left a blood stain kiss on your neck, his fangs brushing your skin.

Your hands raked through his curls as you leaned into his chest, closing your eyes, allowing yourself to cry again.

"Never again," Brahms murmurs in his childish voice. "Never face scary noises by yourself again." His hand grip your arms gently before scooping you up and carried you back to bed.

You leaned into his chest a he carried you up the steps. "Did he suffer?"

"No," he answers childishly. "I was good. I listened. I promise." You looked up at him and touched his scared face. He leaned into it and kissed your palm. "Brahms was good."

You couldn't help but smile as you lean against him. "Good boy," you whispered, tears slowing down. "Good boy, Brahms."

He takes you back into the bedroom and lays you down. He leaves and washes up in the bathroom. When he comes back, he wasn't wearing a shirt as he came back into bed. He kisses your lips twice, one to say 'I love you' and one for 'goodnight', and wrapped his arms around your side, burying his face to be close to his child once more. Your hands went through his curls, again, then closed your eyes. After a few shaky breaths, you were back to sleep.

#brahms x you #brahms heelshire x reader #brahms heelsire x reader #brahms heelshire #brahms the boy #brahms the doll #the boy #the boy 2016 #vampire!brahms heelshire #vampire!brahms #slasher fic #slasher fanfic #slasher #the boy fanfiction #the boy fanfic #slasher fanfiction #brahms heelshire fanfis #brahms heelshire x you #brahms heelshire x y/n

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blacklegsanjiii · 3 months

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@alazycrab00 croc!sanji is live

Had a thought based off this where Sanji runs away from Baratie at like 12/13 and stowaways on Crocodile's boat because he and Zeff can't stop fighting so it's better for Sanji to go now before Zeff finishes what Judge couldn't. He ends up being found out after they're in the Grand Line on the way to Alabasta and Daz and Crocodile are looking at this twirly browed brat staring at them from the storage section where they're storing food.

"Is that the brat from Baratie?"

"Yes, Boss."

Sanji begs for them to not send him back, not that they're exactly interested in Reverse Mountain again so Daz and Crocodile shrug and take him to Alabasta and Crocodile calls Zeff who only curses and tells him to keep Sanji out of anger, he still cares but like clearly they're angry at each other so Crocodile will let them simmer and take Sanji back in a couple months.

Croc ends up introducing Sanji to the rest of what is Baroque Works at the time and Sanji is a good cook and a decent fighter. He and Bon Clay are getting along really well and helping each other stretch and Bon Clay does Sanji's make up. Anna the Banawani likes Sanji and Croc has found them togwther, Sanji reading a cookbook and Anna napping. Crocodile finds Sanji's mouth really amusing and he's great in the markets for haggling.

At one point Bon Clay walks up to Crocodile at one point and is like "I need to take Sanji shopping, he needs dresses and skirts that fit and his own make up." Crocodile just doesn't look up from his paperwork and hands Bon Clay a stack of cash and when Sanji comes back in twirly dress and his make up to the 10s and so happy showing Crocodile is just "fuck, I might need to call Iva too."

So yeah, the call to Zeff a few months later is just Crocodile telling him to eat shit, Sanji is his now. After that everyone starts calling him 'little prince' or 'Mr. Prince'. Sanji grows up as Crocodile's son and his gender expression and stuff is so much more free. Sanji goes to several Warlord meetings as Crocodile literally could not leave him with anyone.

Sanji sitting at the Warlord table with cook book and listening to everyone as he reads. Mihawk at one point comments on how well behaved he is and Crocodile is like "He is actually. Anna adores him." Everyone but Doflamingo makes a face that remarks Crocodile should not probably be letting a child near his beloved bananawani but also every other warlord meeting Sanji attends Doflamingo is trying to bond with this kid because he's trying to get back in with Crocodile.

Crocodile has trained Sanji for this however and the kid will run. Just run. Doesn't matter where. More often than not he runs into Fujitora who absolutely adores Croc's kid and will let him hide in his office and read cook books until it's time to go and Daz finds him. If there's enough time he will cook for Fujitora and is even allowed to call him Issho.

When he meets Robin when she joins they get along really well, Sanji cooks for her and Robin reads to him. Sanji plays with Anna in a way that is definitely frowned upon by most of society but Crocodile knows Anna won't hurt him. She knows better, she only attacks those he and Sanji don't introduce to her. Robin meets Anna after a few months and smiles and lists of ways Anna could kill Sanji and Sanji hangs off Anna and is like "You're not gonna hurt me right? You like me almost as much as Sir Crocodile." Anna makes a noise of agreement. Robin finds him asleep with Anna and asks Crocodile about it and he shrugs. "He's a lovable kid, take him shopping. He has a mouth."

When they meet the Strawhat crew Robin and Sanji are looking at them with interest. That rubber kid and the blue haired girl that seems enamored with the other girl and a swordsman and what appears to be a racoon?

"Hey, Ms. All Sunday, do you think they're going after Mr. 0?"

"Oh I would certainly assume so, Mr. Prince. That is Princess Vivi after all."

"Mn, we're just gonna sit and watch, right?"

"It shall certainly be entertaining." Robin smiles at him and Sanji smiles back.

#croc!sanji #sir crocodile #nico robin #devil child nico robin #vinsmoke sanji #one piece au #idk man #bon clay #mr 2 bon clay #daz bones #mr 1 daz bones

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002yb · 9 months

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Do you like kemono dickjay? 👀 or were dickjay? Thots ?

No thoughts, just wolf!Dick 👀

The visual ✅

The vibes ✅

The nsfw creative content ✅

For as much as I enjoy this trope, not many thoughts come to mind for it and it's absolutely devastating LOL.

Jason having a secret fixation with Dick's ears. He likes how expressive they are and how he can look to them to gauge how sincere Dick is being with how he's feeling.

It's not always accurate (because of course Dick teaches himself to control them to a certain degree - same as his stupid handsome face), but it's accurate enough whenever instinct hits faster than Dick's self-control

He finds a lot of amusement in how they'll subconsciously shift and perk to listen for noises. How they twitch back when Dick is displeased, or flatten to his head when he's angry. In general though, when Dick is fine or otherwise content, they're just there. Perfect triangles on the top of his head.

Jason torments Dick by tickling the fur and making Dick's ears twitch. Just relentless teasing until Dick gnashes his teeth at Jason in warning.

But of course that doesn't stop Jason, lol. He keeps poking until Dick throws down with him and then it's all roughhousing and light biting until Jason gets pinned and that's nice, too. Jason would have a fixation with being pinned beneath Dick, too. //u///

Side Tangent with full animal transformations:

Dick being the sole wolf in a pack of racoons just. The entire bat fam except for him having raccoon features ahhhhhhhahahaha. Because it's the most prevalent species in Gotham.

Just wolf!Dick laying there with the most l: of expressions as he's smothered by raccoon fluff, little hands grabbing at his fur and chubby pancake bodies laid over his back or curled into his side.

Bruce being the biggest, baddest raccoon with the darkest little mask. He is vengeance, he is night, he is batccoon. And he's just out there fighting crime with his nursery of kits + Dick.

#dickjay #jaydick #one day i will have more thoughts for this #does anyone have any preferences for what animal characteristics Jason has? So far I love all the ones I've seen but idk what to write lol #kemonimimi #hybrid!au #wolf!dick grayson

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slashingdisneypasta · 2 years

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Michael Myers x Reader || Drabble

Plot: Just another daunting day getting home to your evil dog- um, lover. Your evil, lover.

Warnings: Non-Sexual Nudity.

You’re just kicking up your feet after a long day with your laptop propped on your lap, your show starting on screen and a glass of whatever in your hand, when theirs a bump, a smash, andcouple of clatters all of a sudden upstairs, consecutively. Looking up, quickly, you wonder what in the world that was. What is Michael doing up there? The man is usually silent- so unless a burglar currently up there that he’s smashing the brains out of, then there should be no noise.

“Mi- Michael?” You call up, confused. When there is, of course, no verbal response, you set your laptop on the side table and hop up to your feet; Hurrying up the stairs to see what he’s done. I swear to god, if theirs some poor, dead animal up here…

Honestly sometimes having Michael is like having a really angry dog.

“Michael, what’s happening? I heard a noise, are you alright?” Looking around, you still don’t see him- which is not usually surprising, seeing as he likes to stand super still sometimes and scare the crap out of you when you inevitably notice him after minutes, but after that bang, you’re getting increasingly confused. “A shelf didn’t fall on you, did it??”

Rounding a corner into the spare room that he’s taken up residence in - hostile take-over style, - and turning your head around to find him. “Michael? Yo, man, are you- WOAH!”

God, when you see him- you SEE him. And boy, is

… IT…

A doozy. You’re always surprised, seeing how big this man is, down there. And you are seeing it… right now…

Because he’s naked. Like, fully naked. No clothes, except the mask- which- obviously. Obviously. Of course! Why you would expect any different, you don’t know. But there he is, bare as the day he was born- Just standing there looking out the open window like you don’t have neighbours-

“Mike!” Quickly, you lurch into action; Grabbing a blanket from the unmade bed and wrapping it around his waist like a towel. Glancing out the window as you do, you see Mrs Braginski from next door on the street outside, staring right up… and waive at her, quiet awkwardly, still holding up the blanket. “Hi- Mrs Braginksi! Um- Sorry, he- This isn’t- “When her face twists into one of Old Russian Lady Judgement, the same one she used when you planted sunflowers on her ‘Violet Only’ street, you immediately drop the attempt at apology. “YOU KNOW WHAT, HE’S A NUDIST. TOTALLY VALID LIFE CHOICE, YANA. SUCK THOSE EYES BACK INTO YOUR HEAD- Come on Michael, away from the window, I beg of you.”

He steps back, watching you try and fail to make the blanket stay no matter how tightly you tuck it in, and shake your head. You’re also muttering to yourself, which he listens intently to. “Can you believe that woman? First of all, yours is probably the best tail she’s seen in a long time, you know? So- why is this so hard, c’mon… “It’s just a fricken blanket skirt!!

You let go of the blanket after a minute and step back, thinking that it’s a well-established blanket skirt… and watch it immediately flop to the floor again.

Throwing your arms up, you turn around. “Whatever! Nothing I haven’t seen before. So what went bang- “Looking around the room, its not long before you see the closet wide open and a box of your good China that was living on the top shelf… now on the ground… thoroughly broken. “Found it.”

Yep- having Michael is just like having a mean dog. Things get broken, you feel like you have to put up signs, the neighbours get mad at you, you got genitals hanging out in the open…

Except even the grumpiest dog’ll try and protect its friend. Just last week- Michael brought a racoon into the house, left it in the kitchen, heard your screams when you came home, and elected to stay in bed. You have the scratches to prove it, and also the certificate for the rabies shot you had to get.

“I don’t suppose you’re gonna clean this up?” You ask, setting your hands on your hips and turning to look up into the dark, scary eyeholes of your soulless roommate fearlessly. He does not respond at all, just staring back like of course the hell not, and it’s not long before your eyes find themselves slipping… down his form again… and you take in a deep breath- once again averting your gaze. “Woah,” You shake your head. “That’s a lotta Michael. OKAY!- I’ll go, um, yeah… get the broom and shovel. Yep. Okay- Lets go Y/N, get your mind outta the damn gutter.”

You disappear back downstairs for half a minute to grab the before mentioned cleaning implements, and when you come back he is even more naked.

This time you actually stop in your tracks, though.

Because he’s taken off his mask.

His short brown hair’s sticking up all over the place because of the mask, he’s pale - also because of the mask… though, with the weather Haddonfield has going on, he’d be pale either way, -, and he’s got exhausted, yet uncomfortably focused blue eyes trained on you.

Lowering the broom and shovel in either hand, you soften your own eyes on him. “… Michael… do you… trust me?... Cuz like, that’s an honour. Th-thank you? I think we do have a sort of connection, too- you know, apart from the, actual, ya know, connecting we do, physically- hey!!”

He rolls his eyes up into his skull at your rambling, and promptly drags the mask back over his head.

#Michael Myers x Reader Drabble #Michael Myers #Michael Myers x Reader #Slasher #Slashers #Slashers x Reader #Slasher x Reader #Drabble

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leaderpinhead · 7 months

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Grim - The Great Grim

"Honestly, he looks like some kind of rodent.”

Grim choked on the tuna sandwich he devoured. He glared at the table of giggling girls next to them. They sounded like a pack of hyenas, and not even the really sneaky ones like Ruggie!

Speaking of Ruggie, the hyena snickered when Yuu dabbed at Grim’s chin. “Did you suddenly forget how to eat? I’ll handle the rest of your sandwich for you.”

Grim sputtered and held his sandwich as far away from Ruggie as possible. “Yeah, right, you moocher! You weren’t even supposed to be with us today.”

Yuu practically shoved the napkin into his mouth, which only made Ruggie snicker louder. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, Grim. You might choke again, and I’m not first aid certified yet.”

Grim shoved her hand away from him in a huff. “I’m not about to choke again! Didn’t you hear them? They think I'm some kinda rodent!”

“I mean, they’re not entirely wrong, shyeheeheehee.” Grim snatched a chip off Ruggie’s plate and shoved it into his mouth. Ruggie’s snickering immediately shifted into an angry scowl. “Hey! Keep your paws off my food.”

Grim’s snickers morphed into a noisy, wet cough when he inhaled a chunk of the chip by accident. Yuu sighed and roughly thumped his back. “Chew, please. I don’t want to have to start feeding you like a baby chick.”

The twittering from the other table grew louder when one of the girls emitted a fake gagging noise. “That’s so gross. It can’t be sanitary to have him sitting at a table.”

“I bet the café owner doesn’t even know.”

“You should report them.”

Grim glared at the girls again. They didn’t look like residents of Sage’s Island, with their big camera bags and fake eyelashes. They had ordered the "cute” portion of the café's menu too, which wasn’t nearly as appetizing as their regular items. Not even Cater ordered those dishes when he came into town with them.

A rough pat on the head turned his attention back to Yuu. She took the complimentary pickle from his plate and bit into it with a loud crunch. “Finish your sandwich, Grim. We need to be heading back to campus soon.”

Ruggie shot the other table a bored look while he quickly finished off the remainder of his chips. “Yeah, Leona’s probably gonna be waking up from his fifth nap soon. He usually wants some jerky around this time, which means a free treat for me.”

“You just ate three bacon, ham, and cheese sandwiches.”

Ruggie proudly patted his belly. “And there’s still plenty of room for dessert, shyeheeheehee!”

“I bet he carries some kind of disease.”

Grim jumped to his feet and spun towards the table of girls. He jabbed a paw in their direction. “You three better watch it before you have to face the wrath of the Great Grim!”

The head girl—a dark haired girl with enough eyeshadow to make her look like a racoon—sneered. “Excuse me? You better mind your own business, you little rat.”

Grim hissed between his teeth. Before he could spit out an even better insult, he was lifted into the air. He wiggled in Yuu’s hold. “Let me at ‘em!”

“Grim.” Grim wouldn’t admit it, but he felt almost betrayed by the disappointed sigh in Yuu’s voice. Ruggie snatched up the rest of their food and threw it in a box the staff had given them. “Calm down. You know you can’t attack someone with a disability.”

Grim’s betrayal fled with a snicker. The girl’s eyes widened, and she stood from her chair. “What did you just say about me?”

“That you’re disabled.” The girl owlishly blinked at Yuu as if she hadn’t expected an answer. Yuu blinked back at her. “I mean, that’s the only reason you would be making such grossly ignorant statements, right? You must have a vision impairment. I wouldn’t want to assume it’s something mental because that would also be rude. But if you were a little mentally slow, I wouldn’t judge too harshly.”

“Yikes,” Ruggie mumbled under his breath. “Protective Prefect engaged, shyeheehee.”

“I’m not the one with a literal rat eating with them,” the girl spat after a bit of sputtering.

“Didn’t you hear him?” Yuu’s tone had taken a harder edge. Grim smiled widely and wiggled into a more comfortable position on Yuu’s shoulder, freeing her arms for her to judgmentally cross them. “He’s the Great Grim. How many rats do you see with ensorcelled fire around their ears? He’s a full-fledged student at Night Raven College. Last I checked, they didn’t enroll rats. So shut your mouth and get your cute little pics for Magicam. Leave the big thinking to those who are clearly more capable of doing it.”

Yuu turned on her heel before the girl could work out a retaliation. Grim twisted around on her shoulder and shot the stupefied girl a crooked smirk. The other girls started muttering between each other, which made the head girl snap back at them.

Ruggie quickly caught up to them. He emitted a low whistle. “Talk about overkill. You remind me of a mama bear protecting her cub.”

“I wasn’t that mean,” Yuu countered. She held up one arm to help Grim balance while he repositioned himself to sit on both of her shoulders. “I just gave back the same vibes she was giving us.” Yuu paused. “Now, overkill would be that I just happened to notice all three of them were constantly flicking through Vil’s Magicam account, and I might have overheard them squealing about him going live later today while we were all standing in line waiting for our food. And I might just stop by Pomefiore right before the stream and offer our services as models so we can bask in the knowledge those three will see us interacting with Vil one-on-one and froth at the mouth with mean girl anger...that might be a bit overkill.”

Grim cackled and patted Yuu on top of her head. “That’s my human minion! Let’s go show those girls who the Great Grim really is.”

Ruggie sighed, but Grim caught his short tail wagging behind him. “Remind me never to get on your bad side...”

Grim cackled all the way back to campus. He didn’t put up a fight later when Vil made him wear a fancy ribbon and hat either. He strutted around in front of the camera while Vil used Yuu as a guinea pig for skincare products, making sure the camera got him from all his good angles.

No one would mistake him for a rat again.

#twisted wonderland #twstober #grim #day 16 rodent #I want the platinum jacket Grim D:

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yellowwithalisp · 1 year

Text

Rainy Early MorningS

S.T.A.R.S! Wesker x Fem! Reader

Hello! Yellow here! This would be my first Wesker x reader story I've done! If you would like to see more my ask are open for both NSFW and SFW requests! I did not pre-read this so there may be typos!

I hope you like it! - Yellow 💛🌻

It was late as night and the gentle sound of rain hitting the window echoed around the room. Lightning flashed and reviled for a slim second the two pairs of bodies tangled together in the mattress in the silk sheets. The soft sounds of them breathing in and out could be heard as the smaller physique shifted a bit into the large one wrapped around her. Her lover's hand reacted as if he was wide awake and pulled his lover in close. His hand rested against her lower back. Softly but firmly at the same time.

The rumbling of the thunder and the sound of cars passing by the apartment could be heard lightly but it wasn't something the two of them weren't used to. With them both working at the RPD at S.T.A.R.S. They were used to hearing these things, just add people talking in the background, the beeping noises of computers, and people walking past the S.T.A.R.S office and it would be just as if they were taking a nap at work. Just with expensive silk sheets and a door that could be locked. It seemed to be always rainy at Racoon City, feels like the only sessions were sunny, rain with slight sunshine, rainy, and heavy rain. It made whoever was stuck having night petrol a pain to do. This week it was Chris's turn for it. Meaning that he somehow manage to do something stupid and Wesker made him have night petrol for a solid week straight. Wich normal Chris didn't mind but then he saw that the weather was seat to rain nonstop this whole week.

(Y/N) felt slightly sorry for him but then again he should have known better than to try to pull a prank in the office, even with how small of a prank it was. She remembers him bursting into the office and begging her to let him hide under her desk so that Wesker wouldn't kill him. When she asked him what he did this time. She could hear heavy angry footsteps approaching the S.T.A.R.S office before she let out a sigh and pushed back a bit on her chair and he went crawling under her desk, mear seconds later the door swung open as if they were on a rescue mission to revile a very angry Wesker with his hair a mess. Bits of his lovely blond bangs were out of place and the top part of his outfit was wet. Evidently, Chris was trying to get back on one of the cops with a bucket of water on top of the door. Instead of the cop receiving the bucket of water, Wesker walked in and got completely wet. (Y/N) looked up and her eyes widen slightly as Wesker state.

"C-captan?! What happen sir!"

His head shifted over to look at (Y/N) as she sat at her desk before looking around the room and looking for Redfield. There was no one else there as both he and (Y/N) were always there early to get started on their work. Wesker was normally dragged off by the Chief so I was mainly here till the others started to arrive. After Rebeccah arrived Wesker would normally arrive back at the office again. Looking slightly annoyed after having to deal with the Chief. It was always Cris who was the last one running in one minute before his shift started.

He looked around looking for where Chris could be before he slowly approached (Y/N)'s desk. "(L/N)." He started as he looked down at her, his shades still on covering his blue eyes she rarely saw. She blinked as she looked up at him and gave him a nervous smile.

"A-ah um- yes sir?"

"Where is Redfield."

He said sternly as he stays looking directly into her eyes. (Y/N) jumped slightly as she closed her eyes and gave him a nervous smile.

"U-um- I don-"

"You know I don't like liars (L/N)."

"I-I-"

There was still enough room under the table for Chris to quickly crawl out and ran as fast as he could over to the door of the S.T.A.R.S office. (Y/N) blinked as she turned and watched him run away before nervously turning her head and looking back at her Captain.

"He hid under your desk before you could say anything. to stop him."

"Yes sir."

She said as she looked back over at Wesker who was already heading over to the office door.

"Wesker- don't go too hard on him-"

She quickly asked as he paused and turn slightly to look over at him. It was hard to tell what he was thinking with those shades on but in the end, he said nothing and walked out of the office. He didn't need to run to track down Redfield. And by the time everyone was at their desk he came walking in dragging Redfield in by the cooler and heading straight into his office and closing the door. Jill and Rebecca blinked as they bother turned to (Y/N) asking what happen. She smiled nervously and explain to them what happen this morning. Making Rebeccah get up to go get some herbs and a medkit for Chris. Jill sighed and went back to her paperwork as (Y/N) stared at his office for a moment before going back to her own work.

---

The door to the shaded bedroom softly clicked open and a small hand slowly pushed open the door with a tender creaking echoing around the room. A small head of blond hair peeked around the corner of the door to see the two sleeping bodies before slowly tiptoeing across the hardwood floor over to one of the sides of the bed. The little girl was holding a book way too big for her as she approached one side of the bed. Looking down at the book and up ad the bed she placed the book down and used it to help her claim onto the bed with the two in it.

"Dad… Psss- Dad !"

She whispered quietly as her father faced away from her. She heard her mother mumble softly."

"Isabella… It's 3 in the morning…"

Her mother mumbled as she shifted slightly to rest her head against her lover's chest. Isabella blinked and turned to look back down at her book on the floor.

"But I couldn't sleep and I had a question about my book."

She whispered still as her father slowly came to slightly annoyed being woken up but not fully away to move away from his beautiful (Y/N). Her mother slowly pulled herself away from Albert's warmth and looked at their daughter.

"The one that William gave you for your birthday…"

She hardly got out before she let out a big yawn and rubbed one of her eyes. Albert slowly sat up mumbling under his breath as he reached over and grabbed his sunglasses from his nightstand and put them on out of habit.

"Yeah- Mr. Birkin said to ask dad about it if I had any questions."

Albert would have a talk with William about saying that to Isabella later when he was back at the lab. William had given Isabella a book on viruses for her birthday which Wesker wasn't too happy with, but he doubt that she would actually read it. It was a rather large book and he was;t sure if she would understand what was in it fully. Turns out she did, any time. So much so that she learned a lot and had written something on a piece of paper for her father to look over. She crawled over and grabbed the book and paper before handing them to her father.

"Wouldn't a Mononegavirus with things close to like- like would infect it's host cells by endocyosis or full absorption then a- aggressive injection. Would it be enough for a vampire virus?"

Annnddd with that he was fully up and looking at his daughter blinking a few times before taking the piece of paper she handed him and looking down at it. (Y/N) was also up now staring at their daughter with a confused face.

"Honey… Wha- when did you learn those big words?"

"Last night."

(Y/N) smiled tiredly as she reached out and ruffled Isabella's hair sleepily.

"Sweetheart, is 3 in the morning really the best time to bother your father about this? I'm sure William was only joking about asking him for help about it when he gave you the book love."

"Oh…"

She said sadly as (Y/N) took her hand pack and pulled Isabella into her lap.

"We can ask your father if William and his daughter can come up here again sometime for another play date. And you may ask him about it. How's that sound?"

Isabella looked over at her father as a way of asking him for permission. He nods before folding the piece of paper and setting it on his nightstand along with her book before he took the warm blanket off of him and slowly sat up. His bare feet hit the floor as he walked over and took Isabella from her mother's arm into his. (Y/N) smiled as she watched Albert take the daughter back to her room and put her back into bed before he came back and join her in their own bed for what little sleep they could now get before work started.

---

"Albert who on earth wrote this?"

Doctor Birkin asked as he turned in his chair holding the unfolded piece of paper and looking up at Wesker. Wesker had his hands in his lab coat pockets as he monitored a test subject for any changes in his appearance.

"These descriptions- this Vampiric virus could work. And I know it wasn't you. I know what your handwriting looks like-"

"Little (L/N) wrote it last night."

Both Wesker and William know who Little (L/N) was the code name for. He blinked before he turned and looked at Wesker fully.

"She- did this?"

"She brought it up to me this morning with some question."

Wesker replied, never taking his eyes off the current test subject. William stared at him for a few moments before leaning back into his office chair. A hand rested against his forehead as he keep rereading what was on the page.

"Well then.. Your little side project is becoming very promising Albert…"

He said as his eye shifted back up to Wesker. Who was staring at the current test subject's transformation from behind the glass before it let out a loud scream. Another one failed, but it didn't upset him. Little (L/N) was moving along right on schedule.

#albert wesker #yellow wrote #albert wesker x reader #wesker x reader #resident evil x you #wesker x you #reader insert #resident evil #wesker #residentevil1 #S.T.A.R.S #S.T.A.R.S Wesker #S.T.A.R.S Wesker x reader #S.T.A.R.S Wesker x you

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journalsouppe · 5 months

Text

Link's Awakening HD!!! I love the art style of this game a lot and I hope the developers continue to make more HD remakes of the older games! As someone who played the oracle games before this one, this game improved a lot on playability and design so it was really nice breath of fresh air to not struggle against some of the rough aspects of those games (hardhat beetles). I wish I could've loved this game more, but as much as I enjoyed this game I still had issues with it (same with every Zelda game honestly :/).

The stickers are from the Homemade in Hyrule zine and were designed by Mirarasol

Writing typed below! (plus extra commentary in my summary)

Rating: 8.3 Played: Spr. 2023 Port: Switch

Comments:

GORGEOUS OPENING ANIMATION

omg Kaepora Gaebora

this is insanely cute

incredible sfx and animation

please that's a tanuki not a racoon T-T

the apples change color...??

omg it has the platforming

wtf the skeletons hanging??

Her name is SYRUP not WITCH

omg the classic moldorm

DAMPE

VIRE!!!

I really hate how racist Nintendo is

I like Marin and Tarin!!!

The drowning noise

the pegasus boots are so cute

color 3 up 4 right 5 up 2 left 1 down

Tarin why did you poke the nest with the stick T-T

animal village animal crossing?

oh marin and the others have round ears

FUCK SLIME EYE

i like the color dungeon but don't like choosing between offense and defense (other games let you have a reduced mix of both I usually choose)

passage ways of the egg left up left left up right up up

I like L-4

love the chess piece puzzle

omg spectacle rock

love the turtle rock head fight

nintendo PLEASE STOP WITH THE RACIST BOSSES

KIRBY!

ghastly?

love the ocarina songs

love the figurines

I really love the nightmare combo final boss

love the orchestra music

seagull marin?

love the whole dream concept

love the wind fish design

Summary:

What an incredible remake. The opening and ending animations, the smooth gameplay, the amazing new remodels, wow. This was so charming. I am angry about the racist bosses and that did affect my score and I am just not excited to see them again when I play DX. (I know this is an issue throughout the whole Zelda franchise and even in my favorite games like OOT it frustrates me, esp since later games made some of these problems worse. But the 2D games were a lot better about their designs so it was just upsetting to see this in Link's Awakening, especially since this is a remake from 2019 and no one on the developers team thought it was a good idea to change the racist designs). Although I haven't played the original LA, I can say from my experience with the oracle games that this is an incredible improvement. Some enemies are absolutely the worst to fight in the pixel games and everything was just smoothed over and so much more enjoyable. I really hope they do remake the oracle games like this one because they're so fun and silly that I know my ratings of the game would increase with a contemporary redesign. Also what a cool story. Link, half dead, experiencing a dream world filled with early Nintendo figures. It's so unique and silly, I really enjoyed exploring the whole world. Nintendo should remake more old games and cut their shit out with these damn racist designs.

#journalsouppe #bullet journal #journal #tloz #legend of zelda #loz #the legend of zelda #zelda journal #link's awakening #links awakening

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lily-sinful · 2 months

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Terrible Fursona Idea

otherwise normal raccoon girl who makes Angry Racoon Noises when she climaxes

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calibri-crossies · 2 years

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Call me when you need.

(Sinclair sister (adopted:)

Oh God, the day couldn't get any worse. You had finished your chores early, just not washing the dishes because the sink was a trouble. You talked to Bo about it, but he was too busy patching something in his damn truck to hear you. Imagining that you could talk to him about it later then you spent the rest of the afternoon at home taking care of your own hobbies and now you was reading in your bedroom. When you heard the heavy footsteps of the twins' boots come into the house, you could see they seemed to be arguing,again.Well, you could hear Bo yelling and complaining to Vincent about something, and you could also clearly hear the angry grunts of the twins. masked brother imagining that he probably waved his hands frantically to answer his brother.

Then you heard a last grunt from Vincent before he slammed the basement's door and locked it right in Bo's face. This was not good, Bo was pissed, and would probably take his anger out on the most vulnerable member there, that was, you, you already predicted that he would probably look at the sink and see the mess that was there, just one more reason to him yell in your ear all night long. Oh God, you liked Bo and Vincent a lot, but damn,everything had limits, and you didn't have the head to hear the older one yell at you while you tried to explain already hoping he wouldn't let you talk right while he spit more shit on you.

The worst days in Ambrose were when the siblings argued, as you felt smothered by the tension between these two, and you could find yourself in the twins' crossfire every time you tried to walk around the house or in the same spot where both of them had to be. You could already hear Bo screaming your name from downstairs, and your blood froze instantly, you also could already see his sadistic smile ready to stab you with words if he could.

You only salvation wasn't there in the house, Lester. He's been busy all week and was probably taking the weekend off to rest at his house right away from Ambrose's shit, but you still needed his help now, he knew what Bo was like.Rough with you when he couldn't take all his anger out on Vincent as the masked man decided to lock himself in the basement where he would be his only place of peace. You took out your cell phone and sent two messages to your contact who you affectionately called "🦝Racoon man🦝".

"Sorry to bother you now bro." You started. "The twins argued, what do I do now? To keep me alive?" By explaining the whole situation of the day you situated Lester on where your ass was.

The answer soon arrived, it was as if he was already waiting for you to send something. "Shit, kinda hard day, wait for me to get there, I'll get you."

"I think it's gonna be hard for me to be in one piece by then..." You answer a little warily when you hear Bo yell from the other side of the door you've locked.

"OPEN THE DAMN DOOR Y/N!!!" You continue with the message "Oh, I know, I'm going to jump out the window!!"

"Wait!! Y/n, don't do it, No!!" You didn't even see Lester's pleading messages as you opened the window. But before you jumped you left a message of your explanation for Bo in your bedroom notebook, you knew that eventually that door would open and you didn't want it to be there when that happened.

You tied your bed sheet to serve as a rope and then jumped out of your room, and luckily, or perhaps unlucky because of the stench, your fall was cushioned by the trash drum on that side of the house. You quickly got up and ran off already hearing Bo screaming and wondering what the fuck that noise had been.

"Haha, I just jumped out of the window!!" You again answered Lester, and only now realized that he had sent 50 messages asking for you and another 50 begging you to still be alive. You didn't know what you were most impressed with, the amount of messages, or the short time it took him to send them all. "Holy shit sweetie want me to have a heart attack?" He answered and you laughed, but I knew Bo was already behind you, so I didn't want to extend the conversation. "I'm fine, relax." You assure it. "Meet me at the pet store, if I tried to hide in the wax museum it would be too obvious." You send the message, and he replies right away. "I'm already on the road." He answers. "Stay alive!! And don't try to jump anywhere!!" You cover your mouth to keep from laughing. "Can't promise the first one." You add "I think you better stop texting, I don't want you to lose concentration on the road."

On the other cell, Lester smiles with his message of concern, you always advised him to pay more attention to traffic as this could cause accidents or pedestrians.

"Pff, Y/n, dealing with roadkill is my job!" He says fun, the time you two were heading into town to get supplies.

"Wouldn't be nice if you were part of the roadkill you know?" You say with an pouty face.

"Now please put that knife away and keep an eye on the track!!" You tell him after he shows you the new knife he got since the other knife's blade went dull.

"Sure ma'am." He says in a playful tone which only made you laugh and shake your head.

It's been a few minutes, and you saw both Bo and Vincent walk back and forth behind you. You saw them going back and forth in the wax house they seemed to have already looked for you in all the places you used to go to clean .You saw how united they looked again, it seemed like hunting your scared ass really motivated them to work as a team and act like good brothers.

You laughed, didn't know if it was the situation or if it was panic, and you prayed they didn't have the idea to investigate the pet store. When you saw them go somewhere else and walk away. one last look through the dark shop window to see where the brothers had gone, and, to your dismay, just as you got distracted looking for Lester's truck, one landed on the glass and made you flinch back.

You looked up, and saw Vincent staring at you, he emanated a menacing aura, you felt like one of his victims when you realized there was no way out. Oh God, what if you really were his next victim? You weren't a bloody Sinclair,was only "accepted" after being rescued by Lester who found you on the roadside badly hurt.

Vincent tapped his finger on the glass, like he was asking you to leave and he wouldn't hurt you, but no fucking way you would fall for it. You knew Vincent could be kind and gentle with you, but you also knew he was just as unpredictable and manipulative, if he wanted to, as Bo.Who guarantees that Bo himself wouldn't be around there just waiting for Vincent to get you to come out of your hiding place to give you to him?

You however soon saw lights from the headlights of Lester's old truck at the end of the street, and it seemed that all the air that was stuck in your throat came out and almost took your something out of your body. Once Lester parked and got out of the car he walked in front of the Pet Shop, he greeted his brother, and then called his name, saying that everything was fine. You got out and grabbed Lester's body and you didn't even notice when you got out so fast you were. He hugged you back and ran his hand through your hair calming you down saying it was okay and that no one would hurt you, not while he was with you.

"What the fuck is going on? Y/n! Where the fuck were you? Were you trying to get away??" Bo came up to yell at you and Lester, and you more scared now tightened your arms around the younger Sinclair. Bo realizes you were about to cry, so he softens his posture a little. Lester rubs your shoulders trying to comfort you as he looks angrily at his brothers.

"Get in the truck, I'll talk to them real quick." He talks low in your ear and you nods, then without even looking at the twins you get into the truck and keep your head down while he talks to his brothers.

You couldn't quite hear the argument that was mainly between Lester and Bo, but it looked like Lester had explained about the previous event, and was trying to solve this for you.Annoyed Bo seemed to have pointed to his escape attempt and how much it could compromise them. Lester snorts, and before he turns his heel towards the truck he says to his brothers loud and clear. "I won't let you take your anger out on each other on Y/n like she's a punching bag." He continues "If you guys don't know how to resolve youselves without having to put her in the middle of this madness then I'll take care of it and getting her out of here myself!!"He says seriously.

"Either you learn to settle down like two normal adults, or she'll move in with me!" He finished, his last sentence leaving Bo with a vein throbbing in his forehead as Vincent stared at his brother's truck where you were. The two of them could be very angry at both each other and themselves for feeling like two idiots who had been scolded by their younger brother. And they didn't want you to leave. They didn't want to admit it, but your presence somehow brought a lightness and joy to them that they didn't want to give you up. They've already become attached to you.

Lester opened the driver's door and got in. After starting the car he drove still directing his frown to his brothers. You felt a greater relief after that, after Lester was taking you out of town. You got used to living in Ambrose, but you had to admit it always gave you a sense of freedom every time you went out with Lester somewhere in another city.

A few minutes passed, the silence was comfortable, but Lester decided to break that as he hated to be silent for too long.

"It made me worried when you said jumped out of the window." He says. "Did you get hurt a lot?"

"Nah, the garbage broke my fall, I only took a light bump on my thigh when I fell, but it's nothing serious!!" You reaffirm.

"You can only be crazy." He says, laughing a little to relax.

"Hey, remember the broken fan belt song?" Your question makes Lester look at you with a puzzled face. "Uh...yeah? But what does it have to be–"

"Immmmmmm broken the femur! I broke the femur, immmmmmmmm broke the femur, the daammn femur broke!!" You sang it in rhythm to the broken fan belt song. Lester looked at you with wide eyes, and he couldn't resist it, you both burst out laughing.

"Wha'the hell Y/n??" He rubs his eyes from the tears of laughter, you rub the back of your neck awkwardly, but still laughing at your dumb version of a dumb song. The two of you continue your journey, with Lester singing with you his new version of the song, he had to admit, he liked your version better.

#slasher fandom #slashers #house of wax #the sinclair brothers #the sinclairs #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair #lester sinclair x reader #sinclair sister au #scenario

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warmau · 3 years

Text

there’s a sharp knock on the glass of your window

you stare up at the ceiling and don’t move an inch from the comfort of your bed until the knock comes again. and again.

with a groan you roll off your sheets and compose yourself before walking over and pushing your curtains aside

on the other side of the window is kun

standing god knows how on the side of the second story of your house and you cross your arms

he motions for you to open the window and you shake your head

he rolls his eyes and somehow the little gesture ticks you off to no end

who does he think he is? always being so rude, even when he needs me to do something for him!

he motions again and you try not to look at the strong line of his arms - he’s wearing a sleeveless tank and jeans which really? how athletic is he climbing in those thing-

you sneer but you give in, undoing the latch and pushing open the window

stepping back, kun climbs through without a hitch and once he’s standing on the carpet of your bedroom you look up and start

“i was about to go to sleep what are you doing her-”

“where’s your cousin?”

he doesn’t even look at you.

in fact, he looks over your shoulder at your door that’s closed

“he said to meet him before we both sneak out, but that dumbass could have just met me at the party himself.”

you uncross your arms and instead curl your fingers into fists at your side

“so why didn’t you sneak through the guestroom window asshole -”

“don’t know which window is the guest room. i just knew this one was yours because of the childish curtains.”

he gets under your nerves. he really does. he has since you meet him as the naïve new kid at your towns middle school

and he - he was the ever so perfect at everything upperclassman.

that hadn’t changed much now - as you got older you came to understand that kun could do no wrong in the eyes of everyone BUT you

your parents thought he was the shining example of a young man, your friends all wanted to date him, and now even your cousin who was staying with you for the summer was impressed with him.

they’d met at the party you had thrown to welcome your cousin and how kun even got there - you don’t know - but he’d shown up with sicheng and ten

and then was talking to your cousin and everyone and making you irritated the entire night ....... and yet ............ here he was now

sneaking out with YOUR cousin to go to another party. who’s party? you didn’t know - your own damn cousin had invited KUN and not YOU

you don’t want to bite your tongue anymore - you want to start mouthing off on him just like he thinks he has the right to do with you

but if you raise your voice, you’ll wake your parents and you have the sinking feeling that if they walked in on this scene

they might not be as angry about it as other parents would be......you cringe, thinking about how your mother had once inquired you if kun and you were considering being more than friends.

you look up at him now. more than friends? he’s going to be my enemy till i die.

you think your worry comes to life when your door opens and you turn so fast in fear of seeing your parents actually standing there, but it is just your cousin

who grins at kun and pushes past you like you’re a ghost in your own room

“ready to go dude?” he asks and kun suddenly takes this moment of all to look at you

he makes a noise of agreement, but he keeps his line of vision on you. it makes something crawl up your skin. creep, don’t look at me like that!

it only lasts a split second, before both boys are using your window to sneak out into the sticky summer night and you’re rushing over to shut it.

before you do - you watch them disappear out of the backyard - two figures in the moon.

you huff, reaching for your curtains and you don’t notice kun look back.

this keeps happening.

sometimes kun does come sneaking back through your window (he says he can’t get the guest room one where your cousin is - there’s nothing for him to climb up on that side of the house) but rather than just that

kun just keeps appearing around you

he’s at the same parties, he’s at the same park, he’s at the same beach. the town has never felt smaller and your cousin is the reason for it all. he drags kun everywhere - like they’re the bestest of friends.

they’ve known each other for like two or something weeks.....can’t they find other people to hangout with! maybe i should just stay in my room from now on-

you turn off the shower and try to erase the thought from your head. you wrap a towel around yourself and scurry down the hall back to your room where you shut the door and sigh.

he annoys me so much that my brain can’t help thinking about him when it should just be trying to throw him out of my he-

your shoulders tense when you hear a familiar sound at the window.

no fucking way

the curtains are drawn back now and through the glass you see the familiar outline of kun’s figure

you stomp over - you’ve been boiling over his constant presence and you think fine, he wants to come into your room, you wont let him until he hears what you really think

so you yank the window up, but not enough for him to climb through

“hey i can-”

“kun, i know everyone thinks your gods gift to this earth but what would they think of you trying to sneak into my room through the goddamn window at midnight? huh? can’t spend your summer doing something better than bothering me? that’s what the prince of this little town does - peep through wind-”

in the heat of the moment you throw your hands up to the glass of the window and the towel ....... drops

you probably wouldn’t have even noticed - how wound up you’ve gotten - but kun

kun nearly falls straight off the side of your house and you can see the panic reflected in his eyes flash so you yank the window up and instead of letting him fall backwards

you pull him in and ontop of you

the two of you topple over onto your carpet - the thudding sound resounds and kun catches himself on his arms so his weight doesn’t crush you

you stare up - that flash of panic is still in kun’s eyes and for a second you try to figure out why when you feel the summer air gust through and all over your exposed skin

you scream, because what else can you do, and kun pushes himself off you

you reach for the towel pooled beside you and wrap yourself back up - getting to your feet with wobbly horror and staring at kun who is sitting back with that expression stil on his face

it doesn’t last long though because you hear someone pull at your doorknob - your mothers voice coming from the otherside

kun falls back and rolls himself under your bedframe - just in time for the door to open and your mother to rush in with worry laced in her voice

“what happened?”

qian kun just saw me naked!

“i- i though-i thought i saw something in the window im fine, really!”

your mother pries but you push her back toward the door gently, assuring her that it was probably an owl or a racoon in a tree. really.

she touches your shoulder and says to call her if you need anything. you close the door again and listen to her footsteps down the stairs.

you breath in and turn around - kun has gotten out from under the bed and is now standing at the corner of your bed looking more lost than you’ve ever seen him in your life

no snarky remarks, no stupid smug look on his face

you feel angry. you still feel all pissed off from before, but now there’s something else coursing through you.

shame.

“get out”

you grit your teeth.

“i - i would never-”

“get out kun, seriously.”

he stumbles, no confidence and no superiority, just an almost wounded like stride as he reaches for the window again.

he looks over his shoulder and you brace yourself - with him, he could look sad all he wants but you know deep down he could say something so cruel right about now-

“im sorry.”

you clutch the towel

sorry for what? for being better than me at everything? for having to see me at my most vulnerable when all i ever see you at is your best?

you think - or at least you assume you think this - you don’t realize you’ve said it out loud

kun stops and swallows, “im not the best at anything. im a horrible liar you know.”

“what?”

the towel should be soft, but it feels heavy, like a lifeline you’re gripping but that just gets harder and harder to keep close

kun pushes his lower body through the window and then looks at you one final time

“im a horrible liar. the reasons i even- the reason im always around you isn’t because of your cousin. it’s because i want to be near-”

you don’t hear the last word because he disappears right after that, you stand in the corner of your room, he wants to be near what?

you look at the shut door, the mirror hanging on the back of it, and your reflection

did he say he wants to be near me?

you don’t really go anywhere for a couple of days after that.

your cousin is always out, but you don’t even want to go see your friends. you just know that that will risk seeing-

something knocks against your window and you look over, a new feeling swelling in your chest that isn’t like that dread you’ve felt before

but instead of kun’s figure - you just see the raindrops that are accumulating on the glass

a heavy summer storm brews up outside and you think it’s ironic. your brain feels like it is going through a tornado of its own.

you walk toward it and think it would be nice to feel the rain though - to touch something outside of room and when you open it you do see something

you see someone in the backyard

“kun?”

you’re rushing out on the grass - barefoot and wrapping your arms around yourself in the wind of the rain

“kun why are you here - my cou-”

“im here to see you.”

you don’t understand - and then a strong chill that doesn’t come from the storm runs up your spine - he’s here to make fun of me isn’t he? mock me?

“listen, i don’t want to hear it from you of all people - you saw me naked for a second and you have no right-”

“its you. im always here to see you. do you understand?”

he’s talking over me - like usual - but why is his tone-

“excuse me? understand wh-”

the rain gets heavier and you cannot believe you’re about to do this but you’re getting soaked and so is kun and so you point to your window

“meet me up there.”

you don’t know why you invite him. you expect the worst and you expect to get hurt and made fun of it. but you do it anyway.

part of you is saying it’s because you want to pick a fight - but another part, quieter and that’s been dormant for a while says no, it’s because you might think you hate kun but you aren’t going to let him stand out in the rain any longer.

you wish you could tell this part to shut up and go away, but you give into it every time. especially, it seems, when it comes to him of all people.

kun looks displaced again in your room - he usually sneaks through and acts like he owns the place - but this time he’s back to this awkward atmosphere

you feel sick thinking about how you kind of wish you had the other side of him back

“so why are you here kun, really. it’s embarrassing enough for me that you saw me-”

“im sick of lying.”

you blink, looking at him more seriously

“lying?”

“your cousin is fun and all, but cmon - you said it yourself. everyone expects the best of me, why would i spend my summer partying around the town. do you think i like it?”

speechless you don’t say anything in response and kun continues

“it’s just, finally i had an excuse good enough to be around you. to sneak up through your window, to hangout with the people you are friends with, to see you. otherwise - i never get a chance to-”

he looks different tonight, maybe because he’s drenched with rain, but he looks more like the kun you’ve known for years

put together, serious, he even has his glasses on tonight which shocks you more than anything because ever since the summer started - ever since he’s been around your cousin - he seems to have ditched them

you think slowly the pieces are coming together in your head about what point kun is making

it creeps in and you think shock is going to overcome you when kun confesses - with none of that bravado he seems to have adapted -

“i just know you hate me and without a good reason you would never let me near you so i - i just did the one thing that meant i could be close to you, because i dont hate you, i really like-”

you take a couple of steps toward him, closing your fingers around his face and you hear kun’s breath hitch up

you pull him down and toward you and just as you’re about to brush your lips against his - you instead pull him into a tight hug

you bury your face in his chest. his hands stuck stiff at his sides

“im not going to kiss you until you promise me one thing kun”

you can feel his heartbeat and yours, both rushing - louder than the thunder outside

“wh-what?”

“if we do this - whatever this will be - you have to promise you’ll still hangout with my cousin. he really thinks you guys are best friends.”

after a bit of a pause you feel his chest rumble with laughter

which you take offense to as you pull out of his arms - “hey don’t laugh! im being seri-”

“this is why i want to be near you by the way.”

he looks at you and for the first time it isn’t cold or accompanied by a sneer, the warmth in the deep browns almost makes you coy

“the guy you’re enemies with tells you they like you and you go ‘whatever, just keep being nice to my cousin’.”

you cross your arms, “family before boyfriends.”

kun cocks an eyebrow, “boyfriend? you move fast.”

“qian kun you’ve seen me naked. you better be ready for commitment.”

he loops his hands around your waist and you yelp a little at the sound contact - hugging and all is one but now he is pushing you up and against him

“im ready for anything if it means i can see you naked again.”

after that - everything shifts

naturally it does, you do start dating the guy you swore you’d hate till you died but that’s not the only thing

you are also dating the most sought after guy in your town and while most of the other people your age go green with envy - your parents and cousin (surprisingly) are over the moon

your parents you get, but you thought your cousin would hate the idea - when infact he confesses that he’s happy you like kun now - you all three can hangout easier for the rest of his summer here!

you’re all having dinner one time and your mother asks what made you finally realize you liked kun

you fluster, and kun quips that he just had to sneak through your window a couple of times to end up sneaking into your heart

your parents laugh - oh qian kun would never sneak through a window, only bad boys do that!

you almost choke on your peas

you won’t lie - you have insecurities and worries in the beginning, kun could still be pulling a fast one on you. or maybe you two just will never get over the competition between each other.

but that all proves null, you and him can be sarcastic and joke around all you want it doesn’t stop the feelings that grow tenfold through the summer

that feeling that when you are with him, there isn’t anyone else around

and kun really is the best at everything (you don’t say it out loud though)

but he does have the looks, the brains, the popularity and boy does he know what he’s doing with those hands of his

safe to say that he might have seen you naked first but you definitely saw him as well

you joke about it and your cousin is like ok. nevermind. this relationship between yall is GROSS jkjk

and then - like all things, summer ends, and your cousin is back off to his hometown

and when you’re saying goodbye - he goes up to you and leans in to whisper something so no one else hears

“that’s not going to happen!”

you exclaim when he leans out, but he just shrugs and says “just promise you will.”

so you do promise.

when you comeback to join kun he asks what the promise was about and you roll your eyes, muttering that it’s unrealistic so it doesn’t matter.

the only issue is - it is very realistic

because ten years later you are sending out invitations to you and kun’s wedding

he’s sitting at the dinner table beside you and watching you handwrite the notes, cutely testing out your cursive

he teases your mistakes and you swat at him, he leans down to kiss the side of your cheek when he looks at the invitation in your hand

it’s addressed to your cousin and kun reads it out loud:

“hey cousin, im keeping my promise from the past - the promise that id invite you to me and kun’s wedding.”

kun looks at you and you can’t believe the look makes you blush - even as a damn adult

kun keeps reading;

“and the other promise - that ill dance with you right after i dance with kun.”

kun chuckles, “you might not keep that one - because im not letting anyone else dance with after me. you’ll be mine that night.”

you scrunch up your nose, “dummy - ill be yours forever.”

#kun scenarios #kun au #wayv scenarios #wayv imagines #wayv au #nct au #nct scenarios #nostolgic au #kun #sfw #nudity/#wayv #nct

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ezwhump · 3 years

Text

Russell & Lennon - Bath - pet whump, injuries, vague-ish nudity, trained response

Steam lifted from the water in the tub, cloying the air in the bathroom. Russell dipped his hand into the water to his elbow, testing the temperature at the bottom and pushing some of the hotter water to the other end. He didn’t want to add any bath salts or scented bubble bath to it just in case it irritated Lennon’s wounds.

Lennon stood by the sink, eyes darting around the bathroom, chewing on his lip. He’d done a decent job getting from the car to the bathroom, only occasionally stumbling and whispering hoarse apologies. Russell was slightly taken aback when he heard the kid speak, and then again when he picked up on the soft southern accent.

“Should be alright. There are towels in the cupboard, and all the soaps are in the wall.” He gestured to the row of bottles and pumps hooked into the tiling above the tub, searching Lennon’s face for any sort of sign that he understood.

“Do you need help with anything?”

Lennon shook his head furiously, swaying a little, seeming coltish standing on two feet, like he wasn’t used to it. His knees were a patchwork of fresh and healing bruises, and it made Russell's stomach turn just looking at them. It was tame, comparatively, to the angry red tearing at Lennon’s throat from the collar. Russell wanted to crush that thing under an anvil the second he had time to spare, but for now it was still sitting in the trunk of his car.

“Right. Well, I’ll be just outside if you need anything, my office is down the hall. Just yell.”

Lennon nodded, his fists knotted into his shirt, twisting and pulling.

Russell lingered.

“Are you sure?” Lennon nodded again, and Russell took that as a solid enough cue, leaving the bathroom door ajar.

“Thank y’sir.”

--- The cursor blinked on the screen.

- No birth records / ID

- Age: looks around 19? Not sure.

- Diet: unknown. Not fucking kibble.

- Allergies: unknown

- Injuries: neck, knees, scarring, wrists. Haven’t checked anywhere else. Schedule a doctors visit. A vet?

- Set up a bed. Probably in your room

- Cancel tomorrow’s meetings

- Show Lennon around

- Double check legality/paperwork

- Call Pete

Russell wiped a hand over his face, pushing away from the desk. Listening. He’d left the office door open so that once Lennon was done he wouldn’t have to knock or get the wrong room. Occasionally, he’d hear the echo of a splash, or water dripping into water, and it assuaged him some. He wanted to give Lennon privacy, but the paranoia was grating as the hour passed.

Another hour went by, and around 8:30 Russell cracked, getting up from his chair and trying not to run the few feet to the bathroom.

The light was out. Russell searched for it, flicking it on. Lennon was shaking in the tub, his head tipped back against the taps, jaw clenched and eyes squeezed shut. The water was murky and cold, the soaps untouched.

“Jesus.” Russell pulled out the towels and held it up. “You can come out, it's okay. Shit, I’m so sorry. Why the hell were you in the dark?”

Lennon got up out of the water, practically falling into the outstretched towel, and Russell wrapped him in it, picking up another and palming it over his wet hair. It was still matted, reeking of the trailer.

“Hold on, I’ll drain it out and run another one.”

It took all of fifteen minutes, while the water ran and the tub filled, for Russell to cut out the mats in Lennon’s hair. He moved gently, carefully, sectioning each piece out, occasionally petting down the back of Lennon’s neck when he got too nervous about the noise the scissors made. Lennon seemed to like that, the petting.

He probably hasn’t had a single kind touch in years. Especially not with that godawful collar on. Not in that trailer.

He also seemed more comfortable on the floor, Russell noticed. He’d dropped to his knees on the rug when Russell took a seat on the toilet and gestured between his legs for Lennon to sit. The easy obedience made Russell prickle.

“All done. Let's get you washed.”

There wasn’t any room to be bashful, and Russell tried to take it in his stride, using a fresh cloth and soap to wipe most of the grime off the kid, visoring his eyes with a hand when it was time to wash and rinse his hair, and only using clean, colder water to clean the cuts and tears. After a few run-throughs, Lennon’s hair was clean, and when Russell dried him over again, he noticed it was wispy. Soft and downy like feathers. Other things came to his attention; moles dotting Lennon’s neck and chest, a few on his forearms. Piercing holes, two in each earlobe. A tagging number on his neck.

Russell brought in clean clothes as quickly as he could, tugging an old college shirt over Lennon's head, finishing with the boxers and sweatpants. They were huge on him, puddling around his ankles, the shoulder seams half-way down his arms. Russell would take him shopping tomorrow, then. It was the easiest thing in the world to toss Lennon’s old rags in the trash.

“Looking good, kid.” Russell grinned, running his fingers through Lennon’s hair again, just to check for any more matted pieces. Just to touch it again, really.

Lennon pushed into the touch, his eyes fluttering shut, and he made a soft, unwilling noise in his mouth. Russell dropped his hand and Lennon snapped to attention, automatically dropping to his knees and dipping his head till it touched Russell’s bare feet. Prostrated and repentant.

Russell took a few staggering steps back and knelt down in front of Lennon, checking his face.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? You didn’t do anything. Hey.”

Lennon was whimpering a little, shrinking into himself and breathing hard. Like he was bracing himself for something.

I should’ve set that trailer ablaze.

“It’s okay.” Russell took Lennon’s face, so small between his hands, and rested his forehead against Lennon’s, closing his eyes and slowing his breathing so the kid had something to focus on.

Once Lennon was matching him, breath for breath, Russell moved back slowly, dropping his hands to his lap. Lennon stared at the tile, and Russell could see the pulse in the kid’s throat.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, kid.”

Lennon nodded solemnly, twisting his hands up into his shirt again. Clearly he wasn’t convinced. Russell couldn’t blame him. He stood up, helping Lennon up onto shaky legs.

“You hungry?”

“No, sir.” Lennon seemed resolute, grimacing slightly.

“You tired?”

Lennon shook his head, but it was more sluggish than before. He wasn’t supposed to admit to it, Russell realized.

“Christ, c’mon. You can stay in my room tonight, and we’ll figure something out in the morning.”

tags: @deluxewhump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @highwaywhump

thank you for all the love on my last post, it means the world to have such talented people read my stuff ;-; <3 hope you enjoy this one!

#pet whump #collars #cw previous abuse mentioned #cw injuries #past whump of a minor #cw trained response #cw vague nudity #god i'm so bad at tagging so if i missed any im so sorry #whump #cw bathing

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whimperwoods · 3 years

Text

Oswin - Bedtime

Part 7! Oswin Greystone is a wizard, a con man, and, now, a warlock’s pet. It’s been several hours since he last begged. He only hopes it doesn’t make things worse. As much as he has the energy to hope.

tw: pet whump, tw: non-sexual nudity, tw: humiliation, tw: whumper is a policeman/city guard captain, tw: gags, tw: choking mention, tw: ptsd (not-post though? idk), tw: literal boot-licking, tw: threats, tw: strangulation mention, tw: death threats, tw: animalization

There’s a masterpost now!

Taglist: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi, @starnight-whump

****

Oswin hadn’t known how much he actually appreciated the noise of the other guards until it was gone. They had been coming in and out downstairs, laughing and joking, taking time to spar with each other, voices and the clank of armor and the clack of wooden training swords all drifting up the stairs toward him and his master, and he hadn’t even thought to appreciate it.

Now, it was quiet in the building, and he found himself shaking again, instinctively pressing himself harder to the ground.

I need you coherent while I’m alone on the evening shift. That was what his master had said last night. The other guards could wait to be called on in the daylight, could take off time between their assigned rounds, could hang out loud between shifts, but now - now it was night and things were dangerous, and he couldn’t help thinking that nowhere was as dangerous as here.

His master reached toward him from the chair and he flinched away, only to be caught by the back of the collar, his master’s fingers brushing against the burn mark on the back of his neck and making him cry out, the sound cut off abruptly as his master wrenched him upward, pulling him onto his knees by the collar.

Oswin straightened his back and pressed up against the seat of the chair with his arms to help hold his head higher, gasping in precious air as his master’s grip loosened.

Then the hand gripped his chin and forced him to meet his master’s eyes. His stomach squirmed, but he forced himself not to look away, even as his eyes started to tear up again, of their own accord.

“I’ll tell you when to be afraid of me, boy. Now you’ll have to be gagged, for the trouble.”

Oswin whimpered, unable to stop himself.

A vicious tug on his hair was followed by a motion to backhand him across the face, but at the last moment, his master pulled the blow, another warning, like the missed kick, earlier. He’d thought about it, since then. Thought about how to say thank you.

He’d thought he’d be on the ground, but he adjusted, ducking his head to nuzzle against the side of the man’s knee instead of bowing over his foot again, and whined softly, hoping his master would understand it as gratitude for - gods, it wasn’t even lenience, was it? It was only a pulled blow, meant to scare him, and the only reason it had been pulled was that his master didn’t want him dead, didn’t want one more drip of blood from his nose to be his last. But he was stronger than that, now, if only barely. He was healing. And if he played his cards right, maybe he could keep healing.

He gave the man’s knee a second nudge with the side of his face, this time humming to make sure there was some kind of positive noise, and the captain snorted.

A rough hand petted through his hair again, and the man’s voice sounded warmer when he spoke. “Enough. Open your mouth.”

Oswin’s entire body shook, the memory of choking around the gag suddenly real and impossible. His throat threatened to close up, and his breaths shortened, but his mouth opened instinctively to take in more air, and his master was somehow, impossibly, unbearably, already holding the gag. He thrust the bar in between Oswin’s teeth and started buckling the back, his strong hands forcing Oswin’s head down against his knee hard enough that he could feel his master’s kneecap digging into his forehead.

When his master released him, he raised his head but stayed still, mind reeling. He forced himself to breathe, concentrated on breathing, still clinging desperately to the seat of the chair, still hunched awkwardly with his head bowed low over his master’s knees.

As he got a grip on himself, he realized his master was petting his hair again, a little more gently this time. “There you go,” he said softly, “You’re ready to be a good boy again, I can tell.”

Oswin closed his eyes and tried to relax, laying his cheek against his master’s thigh, just a little above the knee, where it was softer and not so bony. Maybe if he seemed relaxed, he would be allowed to keep breathing. In through his nose. Out through his nose. Not too fast. Not too slow. Breathing. He was still breathing. It was ok. He was still breathing.

His master actually laughed. “Laying it on a little thick, aren’t you?” he asked, but his hand was still gentle in Oswin’s hair. He shouldn’t respond, shouldn’t make it go from joke to more punishment, but some part of him was so relieved to hear his master happy that he could almost cry, and he nuzzled against the captain’s thigh with his nose, still keeping quiet.

His master’s hand swept gently through his hair one more time before the man shoved Oswin away from him, firmly but without the strength Oswin knew he had.

“Come on, pet. Time for dinner.” He snorted, half chuckle. “Mine, anyway. But you had lunch. We’ll see if you do better tomorrow.”

Oswin’s mind stayed thoroughly wrapped up in breathing, in through his nose, out through his nose, keeping his throat and sinuses as open as he could, breathing in, breathing out, not allowed to remember almost dying, holding the thought at bay, at arm’s length, only breathing, only allowed to breathe, and somehow he was down the stairs. Somehow he was kneeling beside his master, too in his own head to notice the smell of his master’s dinner or the growling of his stomach. Somehow, he was climbing the stairs again. Somehow kneeling beside his master as the man looked at a map of the town. Somehow still moving, still following orders.

He thought about breathing.

His master was speaking to him, and he realized with a start that he hadn’t been listening.

The Captain laughed. “That’s right, there’s some proper gratitude. You’ll still be chained, of course, but it’ll be softer up there. And you can keep my feet warm, if it comes to it.”

Oswin didn’t know what his master was talking about, but he made a concentrated effort to pay more attention, to listen when his master spoke, to notice the orders he was following instead of just trailing along.

He let his master shackle him to the foot of the bed, climbed tentatively up onto it when his master gestured, curled in on himself with his eyes still on his master’s face, but then - then his master was stepping away, leaving him there, moving to change into his sleeping clothes, and the only thing more frightening than having a gag in his mouth was having a gag in his mouth and his master clear on the other side of the room, or even worse, asleep and not watching to remove the gag if Oswin choked again.

Making a muffled noise through the gag, he flung himself off the bed and crawled forward, prostrating himself at his master’s feet as the man stopped in surprise.

“Pleathee, Mathhter,” he managed through the gag, “Pleathe, I cannn. I cannn bleathe. Pleathe.”

He couldn’t bear to look up, couldn’t bear to see his master’s face. He crawled forward still farther, hunching over to press his forehead to the top of his master’s foot.

“Pleathe, I cannnn.”

His master’s voice was cold and measured, which was at least better than an immediate flash of rage. “So you want your gag out,” he said, “After I specifically rewarded you. That’s not enough for you.”

Oswin’s eyes filled with tears. He couldn’t think of a better way to ask, a better way to beg, but even without falling, the tears threatened to make his throat thicken, his nose close up, to make him choke again, and all he could do was cry out more loudly while he still had breath.

“Pleathe, mathhhher. Pleathe.”

“Raise your head up.”

The voice was still cold as ice, and Oswin’s entire body trembled as he followed instructions.

For a moment, his master held Oswin’s head in his hands, watching the half-panicked breaths through his nose, the tears glinting in his eyes, taking it all in.

Then he unbuckled the gag and pulled it out of Oswin’s mouth. The moment his mouth was freed, Oswin found himself collapsing back to the ground, sobbing with his forehead pressed to the ground in front of his master’s feet, gasping and panting and managing only garbled, desperate “thank you”s in gratitude.

His master let him weep, let him pant and sob and humiliate himself, but he could feel the man’s stiffness even through his own relief, could feel tension in his stance and cold radiating from him.

When Oswin finally quieted, his master spoke again, that same ice in his voice. “Kiss my feet, wizard. I’m not sure you’re grateful enough, yet.”

Oswin complied, too wrung out with crying and fear even to hesitate. He pressed a kiss to the top of the well-kept leather of one foot, and was halfway to the other when his master snapped his fingers, stopping him. Oswin looked up, noting the way his master’s face was still strangely implacable, neither angry nor pleased, a mystery.

“I’ve changed my mind,” he said, calmly, and this time Oswin could hear the sizzle in it, could hear anger threatening to burst into flame. “Lick it. I want my boots clean enough to pass inspection with the king, before I let you go to sleep. I’m going to stand right here until you finish, and if you make me wait until I’m tired, you’ll be wearing that gag to bed if it kills you. Am I clear?”

Oswin didn’t try to answer, didn’t dare nod, didn’t know how else to say yes. Part of him knew that if he did this, there was no going back. The other part of him was already moving.

His master’s boots were mostly clean-ish already, kept polished as befitted his station, and he had been inside all day, but Oswin could still taste dirt and filth as his tongue swiped over the leather, his mouth already starting to go dry from dust and terror.

He focused on his breathing again as he continued, his mind squirming away from all the thoughts he couldn’t bear thinking, the thoughts that weren’t his task, his breathing. He wasn’t blushing, and passively, for a moment, he noted that that was strange. But then he had control of his mind again, control of his own focus. He was breathing. He was breathing. He was allowed to breathe, and this was the cost. He could only think about being allowed to breathe.

By the end he was barely on his hands and knees, barely able to keep going as his whole body shook. His mouth was dry. It was so dry. He kept having to stop, to swallow what dirt he could and force what moisture he could, but he kept his head down, kept his eyes focused on his master’s boots, tried not to look hesitant, not to look disobedient, gods, he couldn’t wear the gag again, he had to do this, he had to do this, he was still breathing.

Finally, he’d covered every inch of the leather, done everything he could, and he was going to stop breathing again if he couldn’t be finished, was going to have his throat close up on him from dryness and - and.

He pressed his forehead to his master’s boot again, one last silent plea before he crawled slightly backward, away.

He could feel his master’s eyes on him, on him and not on the boots at all, and he tried not to squirm under that gaze, not to shrink farther toward the ground or try to evade.

Finally, his master started moving, walking away without a word to him, and then sat on the side of the bed and took his boots off, looking thoughtfully at them while Oswin tried not to move, tried not to look afraid when he wasn’t allowed to be, tried not to look like he was trying to be more pathetic than he was, tried to keep breathing.

“You can have a drink of water,” his master said after a moment, “But you’re sleeping on the floor.”

Oswin was exhausted, half dazed, and he couldn’t work out how to answer as a dog, could barely work out how to answer as a human. “Yes, master,” he whispered. And then - “Thank you, master.”

He didn’t have the energy, when his master placed a bowl of water on the floor, to wonder when he’d brought it up here, how long he’d been planning this. He just crawled forward and drank from it, right there beside his master’s bed, lowering his head all the way into the bowl to drink awkwardly from it and trying to think only of the relief of cleaning his mouth out, of wetting his throat, of breathing easier, of feeling less like he might gag.

He drank what he could and then pulled away, certain of one thing and one thing only. When he was rested, he could think of getting away again. For now, he could make sure his master didn’t make anything worse.

He pressed his forehead to each of his master’s stocking feet in turn, and stilled without moving away when the man’s hand reached for him, tipping his chin up so that he had to look into those cold brown eyes.

“You’re pathetic,” the man said, his voice half growl, half disdain.

Oswin knew what answer was wanted. “Yes, master.” It was almost a whisper, but he knew the man would hear, knew how hard he was listening.

“If you make me break you, I will.”

“Yes, master.”

“Anything you do for me, I will ask of you again,” he continued, voice growing quieter, more thoughtful. He patted Oswin on the side of the face, “Remember that before you pretend to be more broken than you are. I don’t like playing games.”

“I understand, master.”

The man rose to his feet again. “Sleep on the floor. And if you make a sound after I so kindly removed that gag for you, I will strangle you until you die under my fingers and then I will make you wear the gag again when he returns you to me.”

The Captain didn’t even look back as he made the threat, moving steadily back to his chest of drawers to get his nightshirt.

“Yes master,” Oswin answered, more loudly, so that it would carry all the way to his master’s ears, hoping he wasn’t about to die for it, “I understand.”

His master’s only answer was a short grunt, and then Oswin tucked himself away, halfway under the edge of the bed, his tongue falling silent. He had a lot to think about, but for now - for now his mind was as tired as his body, strung out and wrung dry.

He fell asleep quickly, his body curling protectively in on itself even in slumber.

#whump #pet whump #fantasy whump #d&d whump #dehumanization tw #gags tw #choking tw #threats tw #oswin series #anyway things are not gonna be this awful forever?#he's just not healed enough yet to really get to have and keep his brain all the time #he will be eventually #for now he's just holding on the best he can #they're playing 3d chess but he's too tired to keep track of it just now

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whumpersdump · 3 years

Text

Project Rebirth - CH5: The Container

Toby content! It’s shorter than usual though, though not by much.

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TW: past non-con surgery / sensory deprivation (not to Toby, non-graphic) / conditioned whumpee (Toby) / pet whump / lab whump / again most of these are non-graphic / restrained whumpee (not Toby) / implied future punishment (brief, non-graphic) / implied past punishment (non-graphic) implied past torture (one sentence) / collar mention / unconscious whumpee (not Toby) / dehuminization / drugging mention

Toby’s POV. The first two stages are complete, but they are barely more than preparation. The third stage, that’s where it really begins.

Toby cradled his wrist as he ran it under the faucet’s cold stream. One of Whumper’s guests had gotten angry with him. They’d grabbed his arm and squeezed it, twisted it until the whimper he’d tried to hold back like he’d been taught found its way out.

He would have to tell Whumper he angered them later. Most pets had to do it immediately, but Whumper had a special time for it. Right before bedtime, when Whumper brought him to the pens. Whumper always said Toby was at his most honest when he was tired. Toby was always honest, but he didn’t tell Whumper that.

He’d have to tell him he thought it though. He wasn’t looking forward to that either, but it was his own fault. That’s why he still had green on his collar, not a full blue. Toby knew the consequences for angering a guest of Whumper’s. He’d be in the dark, thoroughly locked pens for at least a week once the subject was in the container. If not worse, since he’d entertained the thought that he knew himself better than Whumper did. Either way, if Whumper wished it, he deserved it.

He’d escorted the guests to the daycare like Whumper ordered. As were the rules, he didn’t go near it. Whumper hoped his guests would leave their pets in his care someday, so Toby wasn’t allowed to meet them. He was better off alone anyway. He wasn’t a social pet, as Whumper told him.

Pet wasn’t even the right word, he’d even said. Toby had basked in the feeling of warmth the compliment had given him. He was an assistant. He wasn’t the same as other pets, he wasn’t raised to be anyone’s friend. He was raised to help, and nothing else.

He was supposed to come to the container room after leaving the guests, so he did.

They were already moving Subject One into the container when he came in.

The container was a large glass tube that hung in the air horizontally, a foot above the ground. Six large chains held it up. It could swing around a few inches when you touched it, but Toby wasn’t allowed to. He stayed behind the red line Whumper had painted on the floor. There were a lot of red lines in the building. He wasn’t allowed to cross them without being restrained. Whumper didn’t trust him yet. Not until he earned a double blue. That was Toby’s theory, at least. Maybe pets in general couldn’t be trusted there. But he was better than that.

Subject One was asleep, which didn’t happen much. When they did sleep they still made a lot of noise, but not this time. It amazed him. It had only been five days.

“They’re on more drugs than we’d give anyone else,” Whumper said when he caught him staring. “It won’t be long before they wear off, but the implant will replace their function in a way even I wouldn’t be able to defy.”

The subject wore a white suit that covered their entire body from their neck all the way to their toes and the tips of their fingers. Toby knew it. He’d tested it. He watched them put it on, too. The fabric was weird. After a while, it was like it was never there. It was thin, too. Whumper had thrown buckets of water over him and it soaked trough immediately. But it didn’t stick like wet clothes normally did.

Only the subject’s head wasn’t covered by the suit, but the plastic blindfold that covered half their face, and the mouth guard that kept the tube in place still hid most of it.

Dozens of wires and a number of tubes ran from the holes in it. They were what would keep the subject alive, calm, and painless. Toby was surprised when Whumper told him about that last part. Pain was important in training, but not to Whumper. Not with this subject. They never responded to it before.

The suit wasn’t all that was necessary though. Whumper slid two plastic casts over the subject’s wrists and ankles. They had a thick padding in them, but they were hard on the outside. Strong. Not standard issue. Whumper was still afraid the subject would defy him.

Whumper flicked his fingers. “All right, let’s put them in.”

Whumper and a few scientists attached a number of hooks to the loops that were attached to the suit. A small crane lifted them up, suspending them above the opened container. Whumper clicked the subject’s wrists to each other, and did the same to their ankles. The casts had hoops on them, that Whumper used to connect Whumpees wrists to their knees, so they’d be drawn up to their chest. Their ankles he connected to a special string at the bottom of the container. It was enough for them to move a little, but they couldn’t stretch out. Couldn’t touch the walls around them.

He connected a similar string to the hoop on the back of the mask. Then, he tied a strap around their waist which was also connected to the bottom of the container. That would prevent them from floating all the way to the top when the water came in.

“Toby turn on the water please.”

Toby moved over to the faucet—which Whumper had placed just outside the red line—and opened it. The container started filling with water.

“Toby stop,” Whumper commanded when it was just full enough for Subject One to float without touching the bottom of the container.

Whumper undid the hooks, and made sure the tubes all connected to the machinery behind the container, through a few waterproof holes. He closed the lid, and nodded at Toby.

“Continue.”

Water filled the rest of the container, until the subject floated in the middle of it. The container was big. No matter how much they moved, they could never feel it. It wasn’t realistic, Whumper had told him, but it worked much better than a tight space. Especially with this subject. Touch would be the key, Whumper had said. First he let them get used to it, that was what Toby was for. Safe touches, in a pet’s mind. Unhealthy for a pet like that one, but necessary. After that, he took it away. For five days, then another nine months. Not just touch from others, but also objects.

Whumper turned to one of the scientists. “Turn on the implant, take them off all sedation except for the stuff that keeps them calm. We’ll ween them off those in a few weeks. Make sure they don’t feel the machinery, as we discussed. This has to feel as natural as possible.

It didn’t look natural. Training was never pretty, but this was new to Toby. Whumper had explained it all, but to see it with his own eyes…

As Whumper’s team went to work, he stepped over to Toby. “I should have expected such technology would be too impressive for a pet to take in. Don’t worry, they’ll wake up slowly. It won’t hurt, they won’t be scared right away. This stage is meant to calm the improper habits and thoughts these pets keep. It’ll help them be a better pet.”

Toby nodded. Of course. Help them. His job was to help them. He was almost perfect, he was the only other pet who could.

Whumper tilted his head and looked down on him. “It’s late. And I’ve heard you have something to tell me.”

Almost perfect.

Taglist: @suspicious-whumping-egg @distinctlywhumpthing @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @panic-and-chaos

#whump #pet whump #Project Rebirth #lab whump #restrained whumpee #conditioned whumpee #Toby's punishment might become an extra chapter #but it's not a main thing #next one is from Whumpee's POV #And they will get a name!

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