#WHY are you wasting so much ammo like this

[beaversatemygrandma]

I keep hearing the gunshots but the rent sure ain't getting lower

#gun tw #taks speaks #i was going to close my window for the night and someone is popping off in the truck depot again #it's 2:30am dude #why. #just a normal night here i guess #keeps happening #someone literally goes out there where there's nothing but metal containers #pops off a whole magazine. reloads. and does it again #exactly 6 shots rapid fire #and then again #WHY are you wasting so much ammo like this #like if its rent lowering gunshots. just do two and call it a night #then again there was a shooting not too far from here less than a few weeks ago. again. #goddamn it america. we got guns. i get it.

[neteyamsyawntu]

Kinkmas Day 11

B r e e d i n g K i n k

Jake x Na’vi!Reader

Warnings: 🔞MDNI🔞, age difference, reader in heat, p in v, grinding, vulgar language, dirty talk, themes of infidelity

You were one of the best hunters of your generation among the clan. Your skill and prowess only grew once you reached full maturity. You were a force to be reckoned with and even caught the eye of the Olo’eyktan himself. Of course it did help that you grew to become close friends with his youngest son, although the idea did come as a shock to most of the clan members, seeing how you were soft spoken and reformed while Lo’ak was… well Lo’ak. Jake seemed to take more of an interest in your skills after you presented them pushed to their limits during your first RDA raid. 

Jake relied on you for a lot of the heavy lifting when it came to making sure the party’s ground assets were always tightly formed, so when his eyes scanned the blue faces of the na’vi before him during the scheduled war party meeting, he was taken aback to find you nowhere in sight. As he released the members after the meeting, his eyes caught Lo’ak before he could make it too far, wasting no time in calling him over, who with a roll of his eyes, begrudgingly turned to face his father. “Y/N wasn’t at today’s meeting. You know anything about that?”, “No sir, but she was in a bit of a mood this morning.” Lo’ak grumbled, his expression shifting to garner a look of frustration as a faint memory of the day’s earlier occurrences played back in his mind. 

Jake’s brows creased at his son’s tone, “A mood? What D'you mean a mood?”, “I mean when I met up with her today she was acting like she was trying to avoid me. Even hissed at me when I touched her shoulder, like I had hit her or something.”. Jake’s weight shifted as he rested his hands on the ammo packs attached to his hips, “Yeah? So what did you say to ‘er to piss her off.” Jake’s tone turned a bit more pointed as his eyes narrowed on Lo’ak. It seemed despite how much his son grew, he was still a pro at causing trouble. Lo’ak’s tail whipped as he became defensive, his muscles slightly tensing as he could feel the impending scolding that was sure to follow the familiar look in Jake’s eyes, “Nothing! She seemed fine last night, I don’t know why she’s acting like this… although…”, “Although what? Out with it.”. 

Lo’ak cocked his head for moment, his eyes focused on something in the distance as he tried to piece together certain details from his encounter with you, “She did… smell different.”. Jake was about to shoot a comeback at his son for the irrelevant detail, that was until a sudden thought crossed his mind, “You said she was trying to avoid you… was it just you or did it look like she was trying to avoid anyone else?”. Lo’ak shrugged, now creasing his own brows as he tried to remember, “I don’t know, maybe? She seemed in a rush though. Why?”. It was a loose piece of evidence to go off of, but if his hunch was right, he needed to find you. Make sure that you were ok. Either you were in a really shit mood and needed to blow off some steam or you were in heat.

 “I’ll find her.” Jake spoke briskly as he turned away from Lo’ak and began heading toward his ikran to ride into the forest, “What? Wait- dad I’ll come with you.” An immediate red flag. Although the idea of having an extra set of hands to bring you back wasn’t a bad idea, if his suspicions were correct he feared Lo’ak probably wouldn’t have to back bone to resist the urges coaxed out from your pheromones, “No, stay here. Just make sure there’s fresh water for her in her marui, I’ll bring her back.”. A faint “yes sir” was heard as Jake took off on his ikran. There were a few places he thought to look, but you couldn’t have gotten far, not if your hormones were already acting up before you had left.  

Surprisingly it didn’t take long for Jake to catch onto your scent, and as Lo’ak had stated before, he too could attest that it was definitely different. More sweet, more… alluring. Jake found you only a couple miles from the omaticaya’s hideout in the mountains. His scent had guided him to a cave still decently close to the hideout, almost dangerously so, considering how easily he found you. His heart ached as your strained whimpers began to echo in his ear. As he grew closer, pieces of your clothing littered the cave floor, discarded carelessly in efforts to rid yourself of the suffocating garments. Although he tried to prepare himself for the scene he was seconds from walking in on, he still found his breath catching in his throat, swallowing hard as he caught your form straddling a large soaked rock next to the wall of water on the other side of the cave. The waterfall made the rock sleek and slippery, an easy surface to grind on when your feeble little fingers weren’t doing the job. 

You weren’t necessarily soaked, but a generous layer of water rolled off your skin, your face completely flushed in color, eyes glossed with desperate tears, nails digging into the rock for some sort of traction. The small space reeked of your arousal, your pheromones now rampant in the confined space of the cave. It wasn’t necessarily the sound of his voice that took you out of your trance, seeing as how the roaring of the waterfall beside you was filling that part of your senses. No, instead it was his smell. Of course you knew it by now, it was similar to Lo’ak’s, but more musky. Even in a casual setting when you weren’t horny out of you mind, you still caught yourself taking small whiffs of him. 

Your head nearly snaps in his direction as the foreign scent intrudes your nostrils and fuck did you just look so helpless, practicing crying out his name when the two of you lock eyes. ‘Keep it together, Jake. This isn’t what you’re here for’, Jake tries to remind himself as he slowly approaches you with his hands out in front of him as if you were some wild beast to tame, “Hey there, princess. I’m here to take you home.” Jake’s voice drops to a low and soothing tone, yet it does little to calm your nerves, only infuriating the swarm of butterflies that were nesting in your stomach. An involuntary moan escapes you when his voice sends a shiver down your spine, along with the cute little nickname he calls you when you’re off duty.

“I cannot… it burns!” You mewl, mindlessly fucking yourself on the stone surface, “Please- ma’ Olo’eyktan.. make it stop.” Your words are choked out and hoarse, making the sting in Jake’s chest intensify seeing you in this state. “You know I can’t do that, kid…” He says trying to sound as sympathetic as he can, inching a few steps closer. He’s trying to get a grip on himself, but he’d be lying if he denied that your pheromones weren’t already enacting reactions from his own body, the painstakingly growing tightness in his loincloth being the most obvious. Even in your inebriated state however, you are no fool. Your eyes drift between his thighs as he moves closer until Jake is within reach, your eager little fingers looping around the band of his loincloth with a swiftness, pulling him closer than he had originally planned to. 

Your cheek pressed to his soft belly, as your hands drifting down to his thighs, running your hands up and down them as you inhaled his scent like a drug, “Mm- but you can… you must want to. Do you not smell me? I can make you feel so good ma’ Olo’eyktan.. please.” You purr breathlessly, fighting against his hands as he tries to move out of your touch, obviously without being too rough so that he doesn’t hurt you; an act that is becoming increasingly harder the more his head begins to spin with the smell of your pheromones. “Yeah.. yeah I smell you a little too well, kid… but I need you to be a good girl and come back to base with me ok?”.

His words fall on deaf ears however, when the hand he uses to gently push your face back up to look at him sparks a new fire in your eyes. With his clammy palm pressed against your cheek, you gently shift your face to the side nuzzling into it, “You are sweating, ma’ Olo’eyktan.. let me help~.” And before he can do anything to stop you, your lips are wrapping around his thumb, sucking on it tenderly, blinking up at him with an expression that is far too arousing to be played off as innocent. “Shit…” he curses under his breath, swallowing the buildup of saliva that had accumulated in his cheeks. Your lips follow as Jake attempts to withdraw his thumb from your mouth until you release it with a soft pop sound.

This was bad, his body felt hot all over, his cock now raging beneath his tewng and while he hated to admit it, your tactics of persuasion were starting to work. You could tell all he needed was that final push. “Fuck Y/N… you can’t be doing stuff like that.” He huffs, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, “But why? You are enjoying it, are you not?” You purr as a slight cheeky smirk forms on your lips as your face lowers to nuzzle at the very prominent bulge in his loincloth. With your eyes half lidded and dripping in lust, your nimble fingers begin to undo the packs of ammunition on his waist, clicking the clasps open before moving to the strings of his tewng, which Jake does nothing to stop, watching as it falls to his feet. His chest rises and falls at a consistent rate as he watches you press his cock between your breasts completely lost for words whilst you moan at just the contact of his hardness. 

“Please Jake… I am in pain. My womb aches to be full of your children.” You whine, continuing to grind your cunt into the slippery rock. “Fuck…” Jake practically growls to himself knowing his restraint was slipping away all too quickly. He really did try to hold himself back as much as he could, but even the strongest of Na’vi men were vulnerable to a woman in heat. So when Jake moved to lay you on your back with your calves on either side of his shoulders, he told himself it was inevitable. His eyes wandering all around your shimmering skin until they landed on your intimates, a low more lustrous growl now breaking from his throat, “Shit princess look at you… you’ve just been abusing this little pussy haven’t you? All puffy and red…” he hums hoarsely as his fingers caress the folds of your cunt, gathering the slick just so smear it onto his throbbing cock.

A broken and needy whine rings in Jake’s ears as you attempt to buck your hips closer to his cock that seemed to tease you as it stood in the air, just inches from your soaked entrance, “Please- please Jake, do not make me wait, I have suffered for long enough.”, “Shh… I know sweet thing… I’ll take real good care of you, alright?” He hums and your heart practically skips a beat when you feel the fat tip of his cock finally press against your entrance, “Oh please, please, please- haah!” Your jaw drops as your Olo’eyktan pushes into your sopping cunt, the warmth of your walls eagerly welcoming him in. Your fingers are quick to dig into his biceps as he rests his hands beside your waist to steady himself.

Your back arches as you become blatantly and utterly filled to the brim with him, his cock reaching places your fingers have never had the chance to. Your eyes roll back before fluttering closed as his tip pressing tenderly against the opening of your cervix, your entire body feel both incredibly light yet so terribly fragile and the only thing that was stopping you from breaking was him. “You alright kid?” Jake’s raspy voice asks from above you. When your eyes open again the same siren-like look is extremely present as your body now demands for more. “Y-yes please… please.” Is all you are able to muster, grinding your hips to meet his still ones, desperate to get them to move. “Jesus… you’re gonna get me in trouble, kid.” Jake groans, finally reeling back his hips only to snap them forward, bucking your body with it. 

Another distant curse is whispered under Jake’s breath as his hips still again once he’s bottomed out for a second time. The calm before the storm it would seem, as Jake’s hands move from the stone surface to your hips, fingers digging into your sides possessively as he finally begins fucking into you at a even pace. His thrusts are strong and oh so deep, you swear you can feel him in your stomach. All you can do is submit, letting yourself completely unravel beneath him, your body writhing and moving with his, chanting his name like a prayer which only eggs him on further, making him increase his speed, fucking into you like it was the only thing that mattered. 

“Ng-Ahha!” You moan out as Jake leans down to plant his face into the warmth of your neck, forcing your legs nearly behind your head as they step rest on his shoulders, opening you up further to drive himself into you. His tongue waste no time lapping at your neck, searching for the places where you pheromones were strongest, “Good girl… opening yourself up like this for me. Letting me fuck you just right.” He groans into your skin, his hips relentless that seem to have no end, “Such a good fucking girl.”. You are past the point of coherent words, now only bound to outlandish moans and whines of ecstasy, before long being forced into orgasm after orgasm. 

“Mmn! W-want.. want your babies, please Jake!” You croak between moans, now clawing at any part of him you could reach. A broken groan escapes Jake as his hips snap against you with particularly hard thrust, “You… fuck- you don’t mean that baby girl…” he’s heard these words before, he knew you wouldn’t feel this way under different circumstances, but of course you refused to listen, pleading with him invein as you tried to make your case. That you did want it- and perhaps a part of you truly did, but it was a dream that was unrealistic, at least to a man that was already mated. 

Tag list: @itchaboi-itchyboy @pandoraslxna @oakbuggy @plooto @xylianasblog @etherial-moon-blog @hikari-michiko @neteyamssyulang @blue-slxt slxt @c-townes @loaksxhoe @xstarsdiary @neteyamswillow @akoyaxs @neteyxmsgirl @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @zafrinaxyz @neteyams-wh0re @neteyamyawne @kiri-tuk @beauitful-brown-skin-05 @akoyaxs @neteyamsstuff @puddleswimmingnerd-blog @ntymavtr @luvv4j4ybe11

#avatar12daysofkinkmas #avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar twow #avatarsmut #jake avatar #jake sully #jake sully x reader smut #avatar jake sully #jake sully smut

[redhoodinternaldialectical]

Thoughts on Jason Todd’s choice of weaponry?

:D an ask! Yay!

Oooh, lets see, I'll start with the crowbars because I appear to be like one of three people on the entire planet who actually likes them.

They're a tacky as fuck riff on the fact that Jason's death is central to his character. They overemphasize the manner in which he died, muddy the waters about what part of his death is important to him, and strangely cheapens the manner in which he died through the parody feel of it.

No one seems to really disagree with my analysis here, but I happen to enjoy that about them and think it's very on brand for Jason. What can I say? They're fun!

Best Quality - His Wiggles

This ultra-sharp curved blade used to be his signature character design feature, the way the white streak in his hair is now, and I'm really not sure why it didn't stick!

Best weapon he's ever had, bring it back please!!!!!

The All-Blades

hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm....

HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM...

I have mixed feelings about the All-Blades. Like much of Lobdell's work: phenomenal idea, poor execution. Giving the guy who is most known for being morally grey a set of powers that is exclusively based on moral absolutes sucks shit, I gotta be honest, and the trick he pulled on the blood blade was cool but ultimately does nothing to solve those problems.

HOWEVER

I want to love them so fucking badly. A set of glowy soul blades is a dope sicknasty off the chain concept and I wish the well wasn't poisoned with the moral implications and the restrictions to use them only on the "Untitled", a set of enemies that only exist for Jason so far as I can tell. If someone seriously took Jason down a magic based path that removed the DnD alignment chart bullshit, I would be so game to see them come back! Hell I wouldn't even insist on a better cooler design for them!

...though uh, yeah those are the least interesting magic sword designs I've ever seen tbh

Normal Ass Swords

They're alright I guess. Like, there's nothing in it really, but it's not bad?

Guns - Real Bullets

Excellent, evocative yet simple, straightforwards and to the point. It makes hella sense thematically to boot, love this for him, please give him back his pistols and miniguns and shit

Guns - Rubber Bullets

Hate. HATE. hate ick disgusting bad NO.

I just fucking hate rubber bullets, like, as a concept. I refuse to accept "non-lethal" bullets as a valid use of gun, either in real life or in fiction. Guns are for putting many holes in things very fast!!!! If you're gonna use a gun, fucking well own up to that!!! Do not play this silly ass game of pretending that you can change out the material and do the same things as with lead bullets but with the video game status effect of "non-lethal" applied. YOU ARE GIVING PEOPLE SMALL CIRCULAR BRUISES. This is still harmful, yes, ooph ouchie, but it is not even slightly a good use of a gun, you are wasting holster space, and carry weight, and the physical materials used to make it all!!

JUST USE A FUCKING STICK! YOU DON'T RUN OUT OF STICK AMMO!

My belief in his capacity to take out enemies is shattered the instant those fuckers are on panel. Maybe this ain't entirely rational, or realistic to how fights go with rubber bullets IRL, but I hate them so much on principle that I will ignore any counterargument you might have that they'd work. I will die on this hill. Rubber bullets BAD. Please stop making him use this!!

Bombs

Love it, give him more bombs forever

ka-BOOM!!!!

His Brain

This is actually his best weapon - sorry wiggly knife, you're being shunted down to number 2 on a last minute technicality! I think Jason is at his best when he's outsmarting people and making long term fucked up schemes to ruin people's lives.

He's so good at it! It's so fun to watch him do it!

Genuinely a shame that this facet of him was mostly lost after Flashpoint, though to give credit where it is due, in Rebirth Jason did ruin the Penguin's life in an impressively elaborate way, which I did really enjoy. I want to see him be a tactical deliberate menace to one person in specific again idk, that's part of why I do kinda agree that he works better as an antagonist than a protagonist - which it should be noted does not mean I think he works better as a villain necessarily, his ethics aren't what matter here - he's just had his best moments as the schemer, and it's hard to have a protagonist schemer even when you make them ethically the good guy.

I hope you enjoyed my nattering on about Jason's weapons :D thank ye again for ask!

#jason todd #damian's tomfoolery

[an-idyllic-novelist]

Leonidas with Yoriichi Tsugikuni!fem!reader platonic headcanons

Warning(s): RoR manga spoilers up to ch. 78, historical references, violence, KNY anime spoilers, established relationship, strong language from Leonidas, ooc.

Collab work with @deathmetalunicorn1. Special thanks to @enryegotrip and @themoonisrising for their feedback in the drafting phrase!

Before reading this piece, however, I strongly recommend you read this story, as it acts as a part two. The link will be here.

With that being said guys, sit back, relax, and enjoy the chaos that is about to unfold :)

King Leonidas knew the gods existed and he hated them. Apollo, the arrogant little shit who was worshiped in Delphi all those centuries ago, is the god whom he despised the most. His men knew why but they were wise enough to never speak about the patriot of the arts in front of him. He did not, however, know that demons existed in Valhalla too…until that fateful night. 

He and his men were settling in their campsite, bellies full and ready to resume their training or take the first watch and make sure no one tried to sneak past them…but someone did.  It had been an old man, whimpering and cowering with a large lump on his head and wearing tattered clothes. Just when a soldier barked at him to leave or die where he stood, brandishing a spear in his direction…the old man’s body split in half, then half again until four young men began attacking the campsite. All hell broke loose, and Leonidas had no idea what the fuck was going on or how to kill them.

Guns didn’t work on the winged one because he was too fast in the air, the swords and spears of his men snapped in half when making contact with the bodies of the blue-eyed one before he impaled them with a halberd. The one wearing red robes possessed a staff that could create lightning within a seven foot radius, and the green one used a fan to blow away his men with a single swing. He used his shield when the latter and the winged one attacked, but it could only do so much against a sonic wave attack. 

When shit looked like it was about to go sideways in the worst way possible, she showed up seemingly out of nowhere. She zigzagged across the field, dodging the winged one’s attacks and swiftly decapitating the halberd-wielding bastard, his head flying off and landing in the mud with a ‘thud’. That was when King Leonidas noticed something odd about the opponents…no, it wasn’t odd. These sons of bitches knew who exactly you were and they were afraid. 

The horned demon in red raised his staff in the air, preparing for another lightning strike when she appeared in front of him. She inhaled sharply through her mouth and raised her sword above her head, the blade becoming ignited in crimson flames before striking him down, his body splitting in half. It was after taking this monster down that she addressed him. 

“My lord….there is a fifth demon…heading northeast. That is the demon’s main body. If it is destroyed, then the other four will cease to exist. My comrades…they are on their way. They will be here soon, and provide aid.” She then looked him straight in the eye, calm and level-headed as if this wasn’t the first time she had fought against these things. “Normal weapons cannot penetrate a demon’s body…but seeing that you are carrying firearms, use this.” She pulled out three cartridges of ammunition from her  robes and handed them to him. “Aim for the head. I must go…before the main body gets too far away.” 

She then darted away from the campsite, disappearing into the darkness of the forest. Leonidas is a proud man, but even he knew not to look at a gift in the horse’s mouth. He unclipped the magazine in his pistol and loaded in the new ammo, opening fire but making sure that these bullets would not be wasted. 

Just as the woman said, reinforcements arrived. All wearing robes and carrying swords, moving across the battlefield as if they were dancing and not fighting against these creatures. 

Spartans are bred for battle and will die for battle. Never give up, never surrender. That is in their blood. However, a smart Spartan realizes the difference between an ally and an enemy, and that the flow of time constantly changes in the mortal realm. From politics to fighting techniques, if it can be used to take down an enemy, King Leonidas doesn’t give a flying fuck about anything else. 

When his second magazine was on the last bullet, all of the demons disintegrated into ash. The soldiers shouted in Grecian, raising their bloodied spears in the air and smiling victoriously. Their mysterious comrades either relished in the moment or simply walked away from the battlefield, sheathing their swords with a grimace. A little while later she returned to the campsite, expressionless and covered in blood that was not her own. 

She  bowed deeply to him. “I apologize…my lord. If I had been sooner…there would not have been so much damage…and you would not have lost so many men.” 

Leonidas just shook his head. His men were prepared to die in battle if it meant glory and victory in the name of Sparta, they trained to go up against even the most powerful of opponents. But what he could not stand is not knowing what he and his army are fighting…so what the hell were those monsters? He wanted information, and he wanted it now. 

To his surprise, she was more than compliant to sit and talk with him. One of her associates, a tall brat with a large sword strapped on his back, barked at her, saying that it's against the rules to share confidential information with an ‘outsider’ but the woman replied that he has a right to know. He is the commander of these men; would it not be better to tell him and prevent this situation from happening again? 

Furthermore, she is an unofficial member of the organization, so the rules do not affect her as much as it does to him or the others. When her associate turned away with a scoff, she asked him what he liked to know. 

“Everything.” He snapped. 

She nodded. “Of course.”

As the men cleared the debris and buried their dead, Leonidas fired question after question at the swordswoman, whose name he learned was [First Name] [Last Name]. Demons were nocturnal in nature, and consumed human flesh to gain strength. Their bodies were extremely durable; normal weapons cannot harm them, and they can only be killed by decapitation. Her sword, a nichirin blade, forged from Scarlet Iron Sand and Scarlet Ore, both of which can be found in high mountains that perpetually bathed in sunlight all year around. 

Sunlight was the only thing that could kill a demon for good. The bullets she gave him were created from the same materials, designed for a Hashira that preferred guns to swords.  A Hashira is a very strong Demon Slayer, and she is one herself: the Sun Hashira, which is why her blade ignited upon attacking the demons. The Breathing Style is…difficult to explain and to learn, but it is effective. 

The Demon Slayer Corps had existed for over a thousand years, and it was revived in Valhalla under Lord Hades’ command. Another human soul, Nostradamus, destroyed the Bifrost and demons have been crawling their way into Valhalla ever since. The one he and his men came in contact with is Hantengu, a powerful demon who once served under Muzan Kibutsuji. 

Muzan was the original creator of the demon race, and she had encountered him once many years ago. 

“I wish I could tell you more my lord,” She bowed her head to him. “The only thing I can offer is to give you the name of the person who can create these bullets, though I must ask that you keep his identity a secret. Muzan might have perished all of those years ago, but seeing one of the Upper Moons here in Valhalla and still possess their powers…the possibility that he might have regenerated in Helheim cannot be ruled out. If he still wishes to destroy the Demon Slayers, he will make another attempt to kill the craftsman who creates the weapons that can destroy him and the other Upper Moons under his command.”

Lenoidas nodded. Makes sense, He thought. Keeping a supplier safe is crucial in war. The less an enemy knows who or how their opponent is getting their weapons, the better. Cut off the supplier and supply route, these people wouldn’t have the swords or bullets needed to destroy the demons. Still…

“Is it possible to meet the guy who made these?” He asked, holding up the empty cartridge. “I know that’s asking a lot from a stranger like myself, trust me, but just having the basic info on an opponent won’t help me or my army be prepared if this situation happens again. You said you’re an unofficial member of this organization.”

“...I am. However, to meet the creator of the bullets…I would need to speak to Lord Ubuyashiki first. He is…very protective of us all, like we are his children. The secret location of the swordsmiths had been exposed once before, when the organization had been on the decline in the Taisho era. You may have to speak and present your case to him as to why you wish to know the suppliers.” 

“How soon can that be?”

“When I return to headquarters, I will go straight to him myself…though I am sure no one will want that. He has…not been well as of late.” [First Name] looked to the side, blinking at the large crow perched on her shoulder. “I will send you a message through this little one, should he allow this meeting. Is that acceptable?”

Momentarily surprised that such a large bird suddenly appeared out of nowhere, Leonidas cleared his throat. “Yeah, that’s fine. I look forward to hearing from you…through your bird.” 

The Demon Slayer nodded, bowing to him before she left the campsite as quickly as she had appeared, stunning the war general with her agility. Huh…were women soldiers in the Demon Slayer Corps always so sneaky? He’ll have to ask next time. Right now, he had to direct his mind and think about his next move. For now, it seemed going north would be the best choice; there was a Greecian military base there, so his men could rest until they were called to the next war. He’ll also need to let his wife, Gorgo, know what happened as well. 

Gorgo remained Queen of Sparta when he was away at battle, in life and in death. She had just as much authority and political power as he did, so he knew their home in Valhalla would be well-protected in his absence. If he hadn’t known that these demons existed until now…could he truly say that their home is fortified against every single threat? No. And she deserved to be aware of the situation. 

They were husband and wife for fuck’s sake. 

A week flew by until the army reached the base, and another when the messenger crow flew through the window in his study one sunny afternoon, a scroll tied around its neck. Hoisting himself up from his hammock, Lenoidas marked his spot in the book he’d been reading and set it down on the floor. He walked towards the window and untied the rope around the crow’s neck, unfurling the parchment to scan the contents. 

The meeting will take place in four days. A member of the organization, a kakushi, will personally escort him to the lord of the manor on the morning of the meeting. To ensure everyone’s safety, he must wear a blindfold the entire time until he is given permission to remove it. 

Lenoidas’ brow twitched. You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me. He thought, annoyed, before he sighed deeply. [First Name] had promised him that she will try to persuade the clan head to speak to him in regards to the suppliers. This would be his first and only chance to negotiate peacefully. 

He couldn’t allow the Sun Hashira’s hard work to go to waste…so he’ll play along. 

Time passed quickly as he made the necessary preparations. Before he knew it, a fellow dressed from head to toe in black with a cloth concealing his face waited at the city’s gates. The kakushi  blindfolded the king of Sparta, and then they departed. 

But it wasn’t just one kakushi that escorted him…there were many of them, each with a different voice and mannerisms, switching him off at a designated post. Some were polite, curt. Others were skittish, can’t really blame them honestly. When he’d been granted permission to remove the blindfold, Leonidas was…surprised to see a young man smiling serenely at him, dressed in white and purple robes. He was flanked by two small children, and a woman sat behind him. 

Safe assumption that these were his heirs and wife, but the Spartan general kept his comments to himself as he observed the lord. His eyes were clouded, unfocused. Blind. Probably caused by the rotten skin that’s spreading on his face. 

The man and his family bowed their heads to him. “Welcome to our humble home, Lord Lenoidas of the Spartan Army.” He said softly. “[First Name] has spoken highly of you since her return. A courageous leader who remained calm in such a dire and unexpected situation…though you wish to meet the ones who have supplied my children with the necessary weapons to protect themselves and others from the demons who prowl at night. May I inquire why you wish to have access to our resources? How can I be sure that you will not spread this information to others?”

This was it. One chance to either get the information he seeked…or to lose it all, and his men would go back into battle unprepared. Leonidas inhaled a deep breath, and spoke. 

He didn’t sugarcoat his intentions, plainly and respectfully to Lord Ubuyashiki. To his surprise, this brat didn’t get pissed off or talked down to him. Instead, the young lord understood where he was coming from. There have been more reports of sporadic ruptures in the Bifrost; try as they might, the Demon Slayer Corps cannot be everywhere and protect everyone. Lenoidas’ armies were the largest within the Grecian district, rivaling only that to Chinese militia, so it would be beneficial to supply the war general with the necessary anti-demon artillery, but only to his armies. 

Right now, he was the only human leader outside of the organization who knew about the demons’ existence. As much as he wanted to help everyone, there were too many cons rather than pros to take another gamble with the supplier’s secret location should anyone else be aware that there were weapons that can kill demons. 

As much as Leonidas wanted to protest…the brat had a point. The less people knew, the better. No good in causing a panic among the public. The gods could go fuck themselves, of course. The war general wasn’t too concerned about them so much as his fellow mortal comrades. 

Then the meeting was settled. He along with the Sun Hashira would be escorted to the swordsmans’ village to meet the bullet crafter, and talk about business as needed. Lenoidas thanked the lord for his time…and politely asked to give his regards to [First Name]. 

That was the last time Leonidas saw Ubuyashiki. Within the following week, he and the Sun Hashira embarked on a journey to the suppliers alongside the secretive kakushi.  He saw how the bullets were created, negotiated the amount needed to a fair price, and things propelled from there. 

He also came to enjoy [First Name]’s company. She wasn’t a talkative person, though she had proven herself to be insightful and open-minded when they spoke on the way back to Sparta. She had agreed to go with him and his men on an expedition  under the condition that she would teach them everything she knew about demon extermination. She warned him she was not good at explaining more complex Breathing Styles, and it might not be suitable for his men. There might also be questions that even she cannot answer fully, though she will do her best. 

Leonidas said he was well aware but at this point, he was willing to take a chance with the Sun Hashira; these men were under his command, so he knew them like the back of his hand. Whatever Breathing Styles or demon exterminating techniques she knew and was willingly to teach would be appreciated. Hell, if there was a way to implement it in his army’s battle formations and even his own fighting style, Leonidas will take it for what it’s worth. 

Leonidas grinned as he watched [First Name] training his men from the rim of his book. She had proven early in their journey that she was not to be underestimated or her lessons to be taken for granted. She’d saved their asses, helped them secure a supplier for a fair fee, and showed them how to combat against lower-level demons if they ever came across them at night. Didn’t even complain about the long hours spent walking or hiding up the mountains. 

The only downside to this arrangement is that when it was time to restock their weapons with anti-demon bullets, spears, or shields, Leonidas had to go get everything himself. 

Pain in the ass, but worth it in the end. 

The war general wondered if he should consult Gorgo about adding women who can fight to the army’s ranks would be more beneficial and boost morale, or would just make things worse, when a scout shouted that a god was approaching the campsite. Lenoidas narrowed his eyes, getting himself out of his hammock again because shit was about to go down. Once he grabbed his spear and shield, he darted towards the enemy with [First Name] following close behind. The men were already in the phalanx formation, acting as a barrier around the campsite to prevent the intruder from taking another step further. 

Lenonidas stared at the god. Tall, muscular, couldn’t be more than seven or seven and a half feet tall. Black tank-top with a weird ass rabbit on the front, orange robes tied around his waist and hands. Sunglasses, long blonde hair, light blue orbs…is that a fucking lollipop in his mouth? 

Who is this punk?

“Buddha?” [First Name] said. 

Lenonidas blinked once, then twice before he swiveled his head over his shoulder to glance at the slightly stunned swordswoman. “You know him?” She gave him a brief nod, then looked straight ahead with a confused frown. The war general followed her gaze and saw the son of a bitch standing right in front of him, his shadow almost towering over his own. The god blinked, munching on the lollipop with his oversized canines. 

“Yo. You’re that war general from Sparta, right? Nice to meet ya. Soo…sorry for the sudden visit, but I’m takin’ the Sun Hashira back with me. Ya dig?”

“And what gives you the right to treat her like an object, shithead?” Leonidas growled. “This is why I can’t fuckin’ stand the likes of you or any others in the pantheons.”

The god stared at him. “Old man…I respect that you wanna protect her, but you should know more than anyone that she’s more than capable of defending herself. You’ve seen her in action, right? That’s how she met ya. And why she decided to go with ya on this trip. However, she’s been away from home for far too long.”

Buddha then walked  past him and gathered up the swordswoman in his arms, with one hand under her legs and the other around her shoulders. “C’mon sunshine, we’re headin’ back to paradise.”

[First Name] blinked. “We are? But the men still need more time to be properly trained - ”

“Six months.”

“Hm?”

“You haven’t been home in six months, and ya had the guts to leave your husband all alone in a cold bed.” He puffed up his cheeks in annoyance. “I might enjoy hangin’ around the bodhi tree when you’re not around, but I wanna cuddle with my wife more than once before she suddenly heads off on a mission without sayin’ good-bye! You could’ve woken me up before ya left so I know were you’re goin’, you silly rabbit!”

“I’m sorry.”

“Ya should be! I almost had to call Kintoki and ask him to track ya down if your crow didn’t drop off a message beforehand! Think things through before you run off into action, darlin’!”

“Okay.”

Lenoidas and the army stared at the pair with slackened jaws at the sight of a god pouting like a child as he scolded the Sun Hashira, who has identified himself as her husband. She was married to a god, and didn’t say anything to them?!? 

[First Name] looked over Buddha’s shoulder, waving her hand at him. “I’ll be going home, Lord Lenonidas. I’m sorry this trip has to be cut short, but feel free to send a message to my residence or Lord Ubuyashiki’s if you have any questions or concerns.” 

The war general felt a headache coming on. “Yeah…sure. Don’t worry about it or the training, we can handle it from here. Just go home to your…husband.” He muttered. “And don’t  be a stranger either, all right? You’re always welcomed in Spartan territory. If any of ‘em give you a hard time, I’ll knock some sense into them.” 

She nodded, offering the barest hint of a smile before she looped her arms around Buddha’s neck. The god looked back at him and inclined his head. In an instant, the pair were gone, returning to wherever it is that they called ‘home’. 

Bonus Content:

Soon as Lenoidas received word that the Sun Hashira had come to pay him and his family a visit as she promised she would, the war general invited her to sit at his table for dinner.

 Gorgo was delighted to finally meet the swordswoman who had earned her husband’s trust and saved the men’s lives. It is rare to meet a skilled warrior who is not a goddess and is humble.

Leonidas received the second shock since meeting [First Name] when she quietly revealed that she is, in fact, a divine being. Well, not exactly. More like a mortal soul who had received the blessing of a god. 

She had met Buddha shortly after ascending to Valhalla. They were good friends for a long time before marrying almost two decades ago, though the enlightened one mentioned he should have done so sooner. 

Something about rivals for her affection? 

When his wife pressed on what [First Name] meant, the swordswoman’s calm face briefly pinched into an uncomfortable expression. Inhaling a deep breath, she answered Gorgo. 

The Grecian representative of the Sun, Apollo, had approached her on the pretense that they were a perfect match because they were affiliated with the same celestial orb: bright, warm, and influential. In his mind, he believed Fate brought them together. [First Name] did not, and politely declined his proposal of a courtship.

Apollo did not give up. He was persistent in the coming days, and Buddha had almost intervened on her behalf. But it had been her own mess. So in the context of Buddha’s “lingo”, she “wiped the floor” with him. 

Leonidas had trouble breathing as he howled in laughter. That fuckin’ shithead had actually gotten his ass beaten by a divine being who used to be a mortal. 

Good. The prick deserved it. 

Taglist:

@themoonisrising

@onecantsimply

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@sarah22447

@sarcastic-cookie

@zebralover

@screechingfatdragon

@mortemorii

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@seii-fantasy

@rukia-writes

#shuumatsu no valkyrie #an idyllic novelist #record of ragnarok #ror x reader #snv x reader #snv #snv buddha #snv leonidas #ror buddha #ror leonidas #ror headcanons #ror x you #ror apollo #snv apollo #apollo record of ragnarok #platonic headcanons #yoriichi!reader

[annwrites]

i've wanted this for so long

— pairing: shane walsh x fem!reader

— type: ficlet

— summary: you & shane make love for the first time

— tags: angst, shane is desperately in love with you & has been waiting for this

— tw: depressive thoughts, sex

— word count: 2,229

— a/n: it's finally here! | find my other posts concerning shane, which take place before & after this, here

It felt like since the world fell apart, that there wasn't a moment that you weren't filled with utter terror. Always waiting for the next tragedy to strike. But this? What you were about to ask of Shane?

It didn't matter if he'd already made you an offer...and mentioned it once more during target practice. You were petrified as you stood across the camp staring in his direction as he sorted through the duffle bag of firearms and ammo, trying to come up with the right way to say it.

You worry that perhaps he's now changed his mind. What if he doesn't want to anymore? And when you ask...is the camp really the best place to do it? What if someone overhears? What would they think?

And while he'd told you he'd moved past whatever he'd felt for Lori—whatever they'd had—you weren't so sure.

You suppose it doesn't matter either way. It'll be one thing: sex. No feelings attached. Just...just something you wanted to experience. To know what it felt like. A brief release.

You'd lied awake tossing and turning nearly all night, debating with yourself. You'd tried, in earnest, to talk yourself out of it. Told yourself you were being stupid. Selfish. You'd torn yourself apart until you were in tears.

He may've made it sound like—that night on the porch—it wouldn't just be 'getting laid' to him, but you knew otherwise. You were so...worthless and weak.

It doesn't matter that he told you he saw you as anything but. He was a leader. You, a follower. He'd kept everyone safe, had bothered to waste his time saving your life over and over. Meanwhile, you did meaningless chores all day.

Why had he ever bothered giving you the time of day in the first place? Why had he ever glanced twice in your direction? You can't wrap your head around it.

You could never mean something more to someone. Not that you want to to him. You know he's...beyond your grasp.

You shake your head, huffing, fighting back tears again. God, you were absolutely pathetic.

And it's the very reason you finally march over to him, ready for him to tell you no. That he had no idea what he was thinking making someone like you such an offer in the first place.

You want the rejection. You want him to hurt you. Badly. You want to be proven right: that you're nothing.

It'll make letting go of this idiotic idea that much easier.

Shane doesn't even see you standing across the picnic table at first.

You clasp your hands nervously in front of you. "Shane."

He looks up to you. "Was thinkin' 'bout gettin' these rifles cleaned up and sortin' through the ammo. Not sure how much we've got left in here. If you want to help, you can-"

"I want you to do it."

He stops, the pistol in his hand slipping from his grip back into the bag. He stares at you for a moment. "What?"

Please, be as harsh as possible, you think.

"I want you to take my virginity."

He blinks at you, dumbfounded. And then a slow smile spreads across his lips.

You hope he's about to mock you for ever taking his offer seriously in the first place. You know he's about to.

You don't blame him.

He comes around the table to stand in front of you. He gently takes your hand in his. "You do?"

You nod.

The look on his face softens and you suddenly feel confused.

Why isn't he being mean to you for this?

"When?" He asks in a hopeful whisper.

"N-now...?"

He reaches up, brushing his knuckles along your cheek. "Where?"

Had...had he actually meant it, then?

"I...I don't know." You can't think.

"I know a place."

"Oh." Had he thought ahead? Been planning for it all this time?

He chuckles. "I uh...I need to grab somethin' from my tent real quick. Wait here for me?"

You nod.

You stand there taken completely aback. How...how could he actually want this with you? To be the one to do it? You saw it as more of a burden on him than anything.

A chore.

You're broken from spiraling thoughts of telling him to forget it, that you've changed your mind; made a mistake, by him taking your hand in his and leading you away from the farm, a blanket tucked under his other arm.

Shane had led you well away from the house and into a clearing in the middle of the woods. And it was beautiful.

Vibrant green canopies of tree leaves were overhead, the sun shining through them, casting rays of light across the forest floor. Birds sung a melody all around you, and a cool breeze kissed your skin.

You look to him and watch as he fans out the blanket he'd brought, smoothing it across the grass.

Finally, he stands again.

Before he can speak, you do so first.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

He gives you a quizzical look. "I should be asking you that. Why're you askin' me, though, darlin'?"

"I don't understand you," you blurt out.

He raises a brow.

You continue. "Don't...don't you see this as more of a burdensome chore than anything else?"

Sadness for you flashes across his features. "How could I ever see makin' love you as that?" He cups your cheeks in his hands then.

"Making...love..." You struggle to wrap your head around him seeing it as that.

His voice becomes a mere whisper. "I've wanted this for so long. Have I not made my feelings for you clear yet?"

You blink up at him in response.

"Then let me show you. Right now."

Shane crushes his lips to yours, cupping the back of your head, holding you to him, terrified that if he lets go for even a moment, you'll run and this...this will be over. For good.

He'd waited for you for weeks, and months, and now—now—here you were. Finally.

You had finally come to him on your own. Had finally asked him for himself. Asked him to be the one man you gave this precious part of yourself to.

How could he not love you for that? How could he not otherwise?

He slides his other hand along your hip, until his palm is pressed firmly to the small of your back, bringing your body closer to his own. He flicks his tongue against your lips, asking you for entrance.

And you grant it.

He flicks his tongue again, against yours, silently encouraging you to enjoy this. To make the most of this—of all of it—of him.

He pulls away for a moment, reaching down to his belt, until your hands come to rest over his.

He looks at you, heart sinking. "Do you want to stop?"

You shake your head, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes, then back down.

He drops his hands and yours take over, gently unbuckling his belt.

Meanwhile, he tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you next unzip and unbutton his pants.

He toes off his boots, pulling his shirt over his head, then stepping out of his pants next.

Once he's clad in nothing but his boxers, erection firmly present, he slides his hands up your hips, pulling your shirt off as well.

He reaches to the back of you, gently unclasping your bra and you cover yourself as it slips off of your arms.

He shakes his head, his eyes searching for yours. "You don't need to hide from me."

"What...what if you don't like how I look...once I'm naked?"

He hates that you're worried about such a thing in the first place, but understands.

"What're you worried about, babydoll? Some stretch marks? Do you want to know what a man thinks when a naked woman is in front of him?"

You shrug.

"Shit, she's naked."

You give a small laugh at that and he's glad to see you smile.

"A woman giving you her naked body is a gift. Any man who sees it otherwise never deserved you in the first place. At that," he says, unbuttoning your jeans. "He ain't a man if judging your body is the only thing on his mind when you're like that in front of him."

Finally, you toe off your shoes as well.

He gently tugs your jeans down past your hips, then your legs, until they've pooled around your feet.

You step out of them and Shane lays them to the side.

He stands again and you lower your arms.

He grips either of your hips, thumbs brushing against the bare skin of your sides as he studies your nearly-naked form, wanting desperately the unwrap the rest of his gift by removing your panties.

He looks you over, eyes dilating with lust.

"Sweetheart, I don't think you've got anythin' to be worried about."

He looks into your eyes and his lip twitches when he sees how flushed your face is.

He crushes his lips back to yours, sliding his hand down your stomach, past the waistline of your panties, his palm coming to rest against your sex, which is already pleasantly wet.

He runs two fingers between your folds and you whimper against his lips, your tongue slipping inside his mouth.

He does it again and your hips jerk, bringing you closer to him as you throw your arms around his neck, breasts pressed firmly to his chest.

He groans as he continues to tease that sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs until his palm is covered in you.

Shane then reaches down, grabbing the backs of your thighs and lifts you, wrapping your legs around him as he sets both of you on the ground.

He lies you back as he rests on his haunches, studying every inch of you.

He hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties, looks at you, and when you give him a small nod, slips them down your legs, tossing them to the side, his hands spreading your legs further apart.

He licks his lips. "You're so damn perfect."

He leans down, kissing your lips fervently, but gently. He then presses hot kisses to your neck, then your shoulder, your breasts—he teases your nipples with the tip of his tongue until your hips are rising up to rub against his erection, desperate for any form of friction. He them moves to your stomach, spearing his tongue as he licks and teases, then moves lower until his face is between your thighs.

He throws your legs over his shoulders, and you gasp as he presses his open mouth against you, tasting you over and over, lapping at you like he can't get nearly enough. He spreads your soaked folds with his tongue, teasing against your tight entrance. He then flicks his tongue against your clit over and over, and your hips buck against him—his large calloused hands holding firmly against them—as you fuck yourself against his mouth.

He eventually begins to press wet hot kisses to your inner thighs, enjoying the sight of you spread open before him, pink and glistening. And the sounds mewling from your mouth... He doesn't know if he's ever been so fucking turned on before.

Finally, he stands quickly enough to remove his boxers, reaching to retrieve a condom from the pocket of his pants and your eyes widen as he rolls it onto his considerable length. All you can think is that much girth will be excruciating.

He lays back down on top of you, erection in his right hand, rubbing against your entrance as his other smooths hair away from your face as he kisses and kisses you. Finally, he begins to ease into you, inch by inch.

You do your utmost to relax, positioning one of your legs over his back and it helps with the pain, even minimally.

He stops halfway inside of you to allow you to adjust.

"You alright, angel?"

You nod, biting your lip. You wiggle your hips, trying to get more comfortable.

"Want me to keep goin'?"

He voice is husky, his words said between breaths.

You nod.

Once he's eased himself the rest of the way inside of you, he presses his forehead against your shoulder. "Jesus Christ," he whispers.

You wrap your arms around him, massaging the back of his head with your fingers.

He fights against his body jerking as he feels you clench around him once, twice...

He looks at you, and in that moment...something has changed. For both of you.

He kisses you. "This won't be enough for me. I can't just do this once and be expected to forget about it. To move on. Getting over her was one thing. But if I lose you? It'll damn-near kill me." He twines his fingers between yours as he begins to move inside of you. "Tell me you're mine. Tell me," he grunts, slipping out then back into you. "Tell me this is forever."

You wrap your other leg around him and he sinks even deeper. You sigh, gripping his chin gently in your hand, wanting nothing more than to look into his eyes as you give him this promise.

"I'm yours, Shane. Forever."

#fic: twd (shane walsh x reader) #shane walsh x y/n #shane walsh x reader #shane walsh imagine #twd x y/n #twd x you #twd x reader

[bucknastysbabe]

Handsome Devil • C. Cole

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 4.3k of uhhh I love this little guy lets break him

Tags: PEGGING, prostate massage, anal sex, oral (f and m! receiving) femdom, modern au, college au, Criston is actually a little Baby Girl but pretends to be Big Man, like he’s a touch-starved needy SLUT, enemies to lovers, fast burn, Degredation and dirty talk, feminization, alcohol use, Alicent is a sad lesbian and I stand by this, man tears, subby spacey boy, Alicent is DONEEEE

Taglist: @arcielee @bambitas @moncherrii @starogeorgina @valeskafics @aemonds-holy-milk @targaryenbarbie @sugarpoppss2 @lovelykhaleesiii @thought--bubble @fairysluna

The more you learned about the enigmatic Criston Cole, the less you wanted to know. Mainly because his bravado was a bluff you could only seem to see. He listened to those idiotic chauvinist podcasts. You’d almost asked Alicent why she brought the asshole around so often.

But you knew. They both got dumped by Rhaenyra, who was moving on as they stewed. Her new man was quite hot. Poor Ali, she was the epitome of sad sapphic poetry. Stuck in the ways of her upbringing— a limbo of sorts. Still, a dear friend whom you tried to uplift and support, especially after the breakup.

Meanwhile, she was getting closer to Criston. Who you had remained to have a normal conversation with. Usually, you’d argue with him until he would yell or storm out— over topics such as tampons being taxed or the gender pay gap. Alicent would merely ignore you two, pouring over a book, headphones in.

The prick was a waste of good looks in your opinion. There had to be a chink in his proverbial armor. Perhaps something under the puffed chest and nice clothes. Social media didn’t turn up much besides his frat and different dates every day of the week. He had multiple retweets of meninism or whatever the fuck incels called it these days.

The only observation you could draw from his socials and continuous annoying existence was he couldn’t keep a girlfriend. You weren’t going to reach out to Rhaenyra either.

You’d have to test your theory next time he was over with Ali. That was nearly always if he wasn’t out being a “frat star” or had class. You heard his clipped tones and her replies as you lay in bed. You’d have to get up and say hello. There was an ongoing competition to who could give the least excited greeting after all.

“Oh, you again.”

“Yep,” he replied, popping the ‘p’. You narrowed your eyes and shouldered past his stupidly good-looking body. You could feel the heat of his gaze follow your frame to the refrigerator.

“Care for something Cole?”

“Sparkling water. Anyways have you heard about this new-“

You tuned Criston’s impressively sexist commentary out, handing the sparkling water to him and landing a smack to a pert ass. It was a heavy handed smack— like the prick was some poor girl at a party. Alicent already had her headphones in, typing away, pointedly ignoring you two. Criston spluttered and gaped, brows furrowing.

“What the fuck was that for?”

His brows were pulled tight and cheeks flushed. ‘Fuck yes!’ you thought, this might be ammo. Shrugging you stated, “I dunno, figured you talk so much about these horrid men you’d want to be treated like one of their ‘bitches’, yes?”

Criston hissed, “You’re so dramatic, don’t touch me.” You couldn’t help but smirk at his trembling hands on the countertop, drink left untouched. A certain stagnancy was in the air. Making a faux expression of concern you cooed at him.

“Oh, my bad, did alpha sigma male chad Criston get his pretty ass slapped?”

He gasped, actually gasped out loud.

You changed gears, “I mean, someone needs to fuck all those emotions outta’ you. Such a whiny thing. None of your frat bros take it out on that sweet ass? Back when you were a freshman? C’mon you were soooo twinky then.”

Criston’s bravado had shattered quite more than you anticipated. His stark white knuckles on the marble counter trembled, a red flush appearing down the tan neck. He ran an exasperated hand through his curls, voice weak, “I’ve done nothing ah-of the sort. What game are you playing here? I only fuck girls.”

“The hot gossip was that Rhaenyra had you on all fours, like a sweet pup.”

He chugged the sparkling water, sweat beading on his forehead. Placing it down with a shaking hand Cole warbled, crossing his arms defensively “Th-that’s lies, fuck off, really, you’re into that degeneracy?” You laughed and sauntered off with your own drink, pausing at your bedroom door.

“If you need a good fucking, my door is open, I’d give that mouth of yours something to suck on.”

Criston visibly shivered and swallowed, adjusting his pants. Narrowing his eyes, he snatched his laptop and walked away. You blew a kiss, closing your door. Either Criston would take the bait or continue on into misery. You had a feeling it would only be a matter of time.

Ali and Criston were trashed from her sorority’s formal and you said you’d be the designated driver. You had completely forgotten until Ali sent a text, “met a hot chick walking to her dorm, Cris still needs a ride. Pleaseeeee🥺🥺🥺🥺” For the sake of Alicent getting her pussy ate for once you told her you’d pick up bozo. Which he eagerly got into your car, still taking pulls from his bottle of dark liquor.

You stared in abject horror at his disheveled state, particularly the way his pinched look was absent. Criston Cole was shitfaced to say the least. His eyes were hazy and reddened, a loose way in which he held himself, none of that tightness. Criston sat forward, whining, “Change the music, something else, ugh!”

“We have a 30-minute drive so it better be good Cole.” He clumsily plugged his phone in…and out came the wailing tones of Morrissey. You did a double take— wondering if Criston Cole was truly a fan of the ultimate sad sack music? You loved the band too but this felt...strange. Criston laid back and sang along, stretching his legs, dark hair flowing in the wind.

“The Smiths huh?”

Dark eyes regarded you slowly. He mumbled, “The- the songs, they get me. It’s s’good. I’ve heard you listen to them.”

“Yeah they’re a favorite of mine actually,” you admitted. How come he couldn’t talk to you about that? You scoffed, he was such a fucking weirdo. Criston smiled goofily, looking over at you. He laughed, “You’re being nice to me!”

“You’re not being a raging dick head, of course, I’ll return the favor Criston.”

He grinned some more, eyes out the window, singing along to the lyrics. His smile faded but he continued to softly murmur along.

And I’m not happy and I’m not sad.

“You hanging in there okay? Not feeling sick?”

“Nah, m’fine, didn’t really hit it heavy until later. When we had to dance and shit.” You smirked, prodding a broad shoulder. Criston snorted, “I don’t like to dance unless I’m properly loaded, too awkward.”

You laughed, “I love to dance! It’s not all business.”

He took another swig and rasped, “Trust me, it’s quite awful, I can deal with that shitty frat grinding for a bit, no finesse in that. You won’t catch me fist pumping around.”

You decided drunk Criston was entertaining. Fishing through the car’s compartments you asked “Wanna smoke?” He groaned in delight, “Fuck yes, Ali hates it.” You lit up one and handed it to him, suppressing the shiver at the soft touch of his warm fingertips.

You smoked along with him, belting Handsome Devil.

I say, I say, I say, I crack the whip! And you skip but you deserve it— you deserve it deserve it deserve it.

He giggled a bit, pretty face exclaiming the innuendo filled lyrics. Cole unbuttoned his stiff blazer and threw the last dregs of his cigarette out. You softly glanced over, shaking your head at this strange version of the bane of your existence. He raised a thick brow and questioned “What? You’re looking through me again.”

“You’re a fun drunk,” you laughed with eyes on the road.

“I’ve been told that I don’t know- it’s weird,” he murmured.

“It’s not weird. You don’t need a drink to lighten yourself up,” you playfully rolled your eyes, “Or be a raging chauvinist.”

Criston narrowed his eyes, lightly shoving you by the shoulder. You giggled and yelped, “Hey- easy there- I’m driving!” Criston snorted, “Then drive and don’t insult me. Also, I’m taking Ali’s bed, better than that shit they give me at the frat house.”

Criston is alone in the apartment with you. That would be a first. You merely nodded with a weak, “Aye-aye captain.” He asked for another cigarette, singing and smoking. You would peer at his relaxed face and shoulders, smiling softly.

It would be back to normal come morning.

He was a bit drunker than you expected upon arrival. Criston stumbled a bit closing the car door, clumsy footsteps leading to the stairs. You followed along, getting out your key and snickering. Cole smelled good; a mix of cologne, cigarettes, and expensive bourbon. You ignored the way he was towering over you.

You unlocked the door and let him in, turning back to lock it again. As you twisted again, the brunette’s big hands and lips were on your face. His voice cracked as he moaned, “Want you so fucking bad, c’mon baby, c’mon.” You’d love to indulge him but the man was wasted.

Gently removing yourself from him you shook your head to state, “Criston. You’re drunk. Maybe sleep this off a little before making moves.” He frowned, puppy eyes shining pitifully. He huffed, running a hand through his wind-blown hair. “Right, right, m’sorry, I just.” He began to walk away.

“You just what?”

Criston shot you the most pitiful look. The type of look that made you want to baby him. Then make him cry. You leaned toward babying him right now. Criston untied his laces, voice sulky, “You intimidate me so I just act like a prick. I thought since the other day you might be interested.”

You sighed at the pouting man.

“Criston, darling, I really wish we didn’t have this moment when you’re fucked up. No funny business but you can cuddle with me tonight. Since you look like a sad puppy.”

He seemed to brighten a bit, apologizing, “I- I know! And don’t call me that.”

Rolling tired eyes, you moved into your bedroom while stripping. He stared at you merely clad in underwear and a thin tank. Maybe you could play around with him in the morning? Alicent will want to play sleepover at least two more nights before the inevitable breakdown.

Criston eventually shuffled in, wearing his briefs and dumb little argyle socks. He climbed clumsily onto the bed, you chiding, “Under here dummy, here!” He snickered, warm body sidling to your own. A tan arm wrapped its way around your waist, the man like a damn Koala the way he plastered himself to you.

He pressed a few little kisses before getting batted on the head. Criston groaned before snuffling, “You’re so strange, God, make me feel goddamn crazy.” His legs intertwined with your own, lips smirking against your nape.

“So does this mean you aren’t always…so sexist?” you asked.

He didn’t reply but you knew the answer. Sleep reached the pair of you easily, especially poor drunk Criston. He’d be alright after some breakfast. The man laced his fingers with yours, dreaming of happy things.

You awoke with a very hard dick slotted between your ass cheeks. Criston still had a death grip on you— inky curls tickling your face. Raising a brow you took inventory of the situation. The man was not awake. But he was groaning and rutting against your ass.

This should be good.

“Criston- uhhh- Criston!,” you yelped. Brown eyes opened wide, his cute face half red and curls adorably sleep-mussed. He retracted himself in a flail of limbs, apologizing profusely. He seemed to be getting more frantic until you put a hand on his surprisingly still-hard dick.

Criston’s wide eyes flicked down to your hand and back up to your dead serious face. He gulped, “I- uh- enjoyed last night. Sorry.” Holding back a laugh, your hand tightened a little on his girth, straining the dark fabric. The man was bigger than you thought, especially after all that horrid talk.

He whimpered a little, eyelids fluttering, dark lips falling open. You questioned the man “Well, Ali won’t be here for a bit. Maybe I can make good on my promise Hm?” Another whimper graced your ears. Criston whined softly, “Please, yes, please.”

You immediately straddled him, Criston groaning, remaining pliant. Caressing his cheek you asked “How’s the hangover? Maybe some breakfast and water first? I’ll be a good little housewife and make it for you.” He scoffed, lips turning up a hair, “I always thought you had it in you. Sure.”

You ignored his comments while making some French toast. Soon you’d have the man crying and shaking, Criston could cling to his manhood while he ate. Immediately after— you two had climbed back into bed, you atop his slim hips, the tank top was far gone.

His big hands greedily pawed at your tits, Criston lapping into your mouth. You had reached around to curl your fingers in slightly overlong hair, moaning into his mouth. You’d been lazily rutting your hips against his cock, enjoying the man trying to cut off his moans.

What was he going to do when you had two fingers in his ass playing with his prostate?

You smirked and pulled back, him chasing you forward, brows pinching. Sliding both of your palms down his chest you cooed, “Lay back, I got you, sweetheart.” Criston fell back like a chopped tree, dark eyes looking up. You inched down tan skin until you sat between his thighs, patting his hips so you could get his underwear off. His adorably soaked fucking briefs.

“You’re excited hm? All wet for me?”

Criston shivered, thighs twitching as he bit his bottom lip, swallowing audibly. You eased off his underwear, fighting back laughter as you threw them to the side. It was the reverse of what usually happened in bed for the man— you knew that. His cock was flushed and gorgeous as it slightly dribbled pre onto olive skin.

You hummed in excitement, laying on your belly as you took his length in hand. Criston’s stomach twitched as he breathed in sharply, face agonized. You immediately lowered your head to the slit and laved off the pre, eyes coming up to meet his.

“Oh fucking…fuck,” he muttered, hands fisting in the comforter. He was holding back— big time. You would get Criston to unwind soon. You felt the poor baby didn’t know what was hitting him. Swallowing down the head of his cock you rolled his balls with your other hand, making the man groan and twitch again.

You bobbed your head in a familiar rhythm, making sure to drool all over his cock, the wetter the better. Coming up to flick your tongue at the frenulum or his sensitive tip had more spit rolling down to his balls and Criston throwing his head back to moan.

You’d try a little stimulation first before shocking the man with the anal question. While still sucking, the hand holding his balls crept back to shove two fingers up into that sensitive thin skin. You felt him from the other side, that hard gland was a bit swollen. Good god, had the guy not cum in days?

Criston’s entire demeanor shifted as you stroked his taint. His legs subtly widened, stomach sucking in as he let out the tiniest little whine. You pulled off his cock immediately, still stroking as you needled, “Crisssston, you like me playing with your special spot? Spreading your legs for me like a slut.”

He whimpered and a hand came up to his head as if to hide his eyes. Cole managed to reply after heaving a couple of times. The man moaned, “You- you can’t! Ohmygod s’fucking good- no!”

Kissing his trembling hips you kept massaging and stroking, murmuring in a more gentle tone “It’s okay sweetheart, it’ll be our little secret, I think you’ll feel good if you let me play some more. Really milk you dry. You want that baby?”

He moaned long and loud, cock slightly spitting onto his messy stomach. You grinned, watching Criston unravel by the second. He was a goddamn princess, wanting to be babied and loved on. He babbled, “Please yes— don’t tell anyone please I want it so so so bad please!”

You smiled at him, pressing lips to his hipbone again, shushing his pleading. This was going to be a fun ride for your new toy. You eased your fingers back, instructing Cole to bend his legs, he huffed and immediately followed the order.

It took a lot of petting and hushing until you’d breached his tight rim. You had to get up and grab lube when Criston started to ramble and tighten in apprehension. He was looser around your fingers but still wound tighter than a bowstring.

Every breath was a soft little noise, his dark orbs nervously flicking down to watch. You slipped your middle finger along the pointer, sitting flush up against his thighs for comfort. Watching his face you fingered deeper, fingers awkwardly searching for his prostate. You knew you’d found it when he jolted and shouted abruptly, tensing up.

He mewled like a cute little slut when you dragged your fingers across the gland, legs tightening around your hips before he arched and spread wider for you. Cooing in surprise you remarked, “Good boy, yesss, spreading your legs for me like a sweet baby.”

Criston seemed to lose more control at your words, crying wordlessly and writhing as he was worked over. His hands grasped and held at your waist, nails digging in just so. You grinned and put more pressure on him. He responded easily, shuddering and whining as his cock leaked more and more.

“Please, oh my god, please more, more, touch me!”

You leaned over his trembling body, lips ghosting over his drooling ones, practically fucking him with your fingers. Criston was sloppy as he pressed swollen lips against yours, tongue desperately lapping inside, moaning all the while. Snickering at him only had him whine and try harder, brain slowly oozing out of his ears with every rough jab of your digits.

You breathed when he did, softly demanding, “You’re so damn needy Criston, come for me and loosen up pretty baby.” Swiping a lazy hand across the mess of his sensitive stomach had Cole gasping and falling apart whimpering. His trembling hands slapped to the bed as you felt his ass tighten around your fingers, cock flexing as he spilled all over his stomach.

Criston dissolved into tears, blabbering, “I-I’m still cumming, ah, mmm, I’m s-still cumming!” You smirked as you dragged across his sweet spot again, forcing another whiny sob and gush of essence out. He was writhing again, back arching to figure out whether to escape or fuck back onto your digits.

“Goodness. You’ve made a mess of yourself. Attention whore, you just needed to be coddled and loved on. Stupid little pet,” you drawled.

“Mhm, mhm, yes!,” Criston groaned, “A fucking whore.”

“You want something bigger in your ass honey? Since you’re my whore?”

His eyes rolled a little, you having to hold his cheek to get the man’s full attention. Criston stared at you with wide eyes, mouth fumbling around a response. You slid your fingers out of him gingerly, relocating to a nearby shirt, wiping your hand off.

Criston breathed, “God oh- uh- God, yes, yes I want it.”

He blinked in shock when you were back between his thighs, looming over his already used body. The polka-dotted harness and strap-on cock were secured. Criston had been quiet and pliant while you got ready, hand rubbing his achy cock, squirming and softly sighing in need. You tittered at him in sympathy, poor baby's dick had not wilted since the beginning of this excursion.

You fisted the strap with a lubed hand, smiling at Criston's little noises and trembling. Off a look alone, one would think he was either a virgin or a nympho. Sliding your non-lubed palm up his inner thigh had Criston whine deep in his chest, dark lashes fluttering across reddened cheeks. He slurred softly "M'ready, unnh, be gentle?"

Rubbing soothing circles into his lean thigh you hummed, honey dripping from your words, "Don't have to worry about a thing sweetie, I've got you. You're gonna love it I promise." Criston nodded, puppy eyes trained on you, his hands slithering to your hips to grip the flesh.

You rubbed the tip of the blunt strap against his loosened ass, inching in enough to pop the tip. Criston’s breath drew tight, eyes wide, fear flitting across his features. You shoved both of your thighs up under his, stroking tan flanks while murmuring, “Relax, s’okay baby, jus’ us Criston, relax.”

He nodded with a strangled noise, the silicon cock sliding in halfway, you laying down atop Criston. You traced a hand across his stubbled cheek to dark hair, kissing eager lips. Cole opened for you with a hopeless moan, then a cry as you jerked your hips— the fake dick all the way inside now. You whispered between kisses, “Mm- there we go- good boy- takin’ me all the way like that.”

“Uh-huh,” he garbled out, pretty eyes rolling.

His bigger arms had wrapped around your back, leaving your lower half to fuck him in a shallow rhythm, grazing his sensitive sweet spot. You had one arm up and in Criston’s hair, the other holding his hip as you fucked him. Moans fell out of his swollen mouth on every thrust, his legs flopping between tightening and falling loose.

“Aw, baby, you feel good? You being my good whore Criston?”

Criston sobbed, rutting back onto your dick and wrapping long legs around your waist. He slurred some nonsense as you fucked into him harder, angling downward to hit his prostate. Soon you struck it again, the sweet baby between your legs crying and wailing, kissing and holding you all the while.

You idly wondered if the neighbors could hear Criston being thoroughly used and broken down into mush.

He panted, “Oh, god god god, oh baby, m’gonna cum again!”

“Yeah priss? Gonna cum from having a dick in your slutty pussy?”

Criston trembled and made the most pitiful noise, blabbering and kissing frantically as his arms tightened, “Fuck! Yes!” You grinned and returned the needy little pecks, clapping your hips against his ass, watching his cock leak and swell once again. He’d probably have the orgasm of his life soon. Striking Cole deep began the fire, and then your words set him aflame, burning up as he came with another wail.

He impossibly tightened around you, cum flooding your stomachs as he whimpered, cried, and carried on like the needy little thing he was. Criston sobbed, “Pl-pl-ease don’t ever stop-p! S’go-od! Ohmygod m’all yours, only yours, forever!” You grinned and eased out of him, unclipping the strap-on so you could coddle your whiny toy.

“Such a cute baby, did so well, hmm, you needed to cum huh priss?”

Criston nodded into your neck, not wanting to let go. He asked in a tiny voice “Lemme be yours?” Stroking his slightly sweaty hair you replied, “Sure babes, just remember who blew your mind right here. You’re mine now.” He let out a soft noise, nodding pliantly, nosing and kissing your smooth skin. If you could picture it, hearts were just appearing over the man.

You’d have to talk to him again when he wasn’t a submissive mess— but Criston seemed quite eager to be petted and called pretty. Fucking Princess. You held back your laughter as the thought bubbled up. He was so damn clingy right now you could pull out a purse and he’d crawl into it, or if you had a leash? Criston Cole would definitely be excited.

He just needed to be trained up a little, s’all.

Alicent was tired. She had met a nice girl for once, but she couldn't go shack up for a week as much as she wanted to. Criston and her 'froomie' had been radio silent. The redhead feared they may have killed each other. She gently keyed into the tiny apartment and slunk in, eyes darting around.

"That's good, ah, good boy!" came the cry of Alicent's roommate. She clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes widening in horror. Alicent wanted to melt into the floor. Dear bestie had one of her 'toys' over. Alicent could maybe duck and scramble her way into her room-- from the noises, it sounded like she was receiving some oral attention.

Ali dropped to her knees and ignored the moaning and slick noises. A deeper voice moaned something, Alicent's roommate responding, "Oh shush prissy, there's no one here. You're just being paranoid." The Hightower girl paused again, crawling behind the loveseat. The noises of very...excited cunnilingus ramped back up. She made the horrid choice to peak out before making the final cross.

Criston 'I don't eat pussy' Cole was on his knees. Eating the pussy of his mortal enemy, Alicent's roommate. Quite enjoyed it from the way he had a hand shoved down his sweats. How long had they been at it? It hit Alicent that the whole apartment reeked of marathon fucking. She could not believe this. Sure they had lowkey sexual tension but this?

Alicent scrambled across to her room, eyes forward and praying no one would notice.

"OH MY GOD- NOnONO! Christ!"

"Oh shit sorry Alicat! I didn't hear you come in! He's trained now!"

Alicent stood behind her closed door, hand over her helplessly smiling mouth. Oh my god, she couldn't be serious right now. Criston Cole broke in as the roomie's toy while she was gone. Hell must have frozen over. She laughed, Criston's miserable voice echoing from the living room. Alicent had to get away from the door so he would not hear her losing her mind. Good for them, good for them!

#hotd fanfic #hotd smut #ser criston cole #criston cole x reader #ser criston cole x reader #modern au #college au #sub!criston #we pegging today #he’s a silly little baby

[velvet-paradox]

Balance

Fandom: Call of Duty Pairing: Sebastian Krueger x Female reader Summary: your fuck buddy takes you in the shower. Length: Medium Tagging: @synnersaint @shyjellyfish26 @kosmokenny @butterscotch-babie @cesneo @deaddainish @allkot @jacket-slut99 @hers-area @1-fuzzy-squirrels @hailmesuckers @ella-bella-ella @spookylilbay @t6ylors @salamanderstuff @hh-spnxx @akii1833 @malyshka-3 @etoilebleue @gremlingottoosilly @talktothemoon2 Warnings: NSFW 18 + ONLY, strong language, explicit content, established relationship, voyeurisms (ya'll are fucking in a shower so that counts), unprotected p in v, swallowing, cum eating, detailed smut.

ENJOY!!!

He wasn't a creepy by any means, he was more observant; a fly on the wall, curious in nature. Intrusive thoughts lead to intrusive visions and the more he sat and dwelled on them the more obsessed he'd become. These feelings were not on his radar. There was no expectation, no limits, no planned process. Fly by the seat of his pants, devil may care, play things but ear but then he happened to meet you. And all that flew right out the fucking window.

Uh oh.

This was new, very new territory for the man. He'd been requested, specifically by a man named captain John Price of the 141. He'd be on retainer, handsomely paid, taken care of with the highest respect. With the sum he'd been offered who was he to turn it down? A little stint, all expenses paid as well, was a dream. As he thought of where he'd vacation after you had stepped into the frame. Shattered what resolve he'd had, the walls he'd neatly laid by hand, trauma after trauma.

You touched your ear, earrings dangling in the light and handed Price a neat stack of color coded folders one early afternoon. You looked at him. Sebastian thought you'd be nervous, skittish, afraid even by his head to toe covering, sitting widely at the back of the briefing room, taking up as much space as he needed. But you didn't. He'd later found out why.

He'd heard the name König once or twice in passing, a monster, a thief in the night, the boogeyman. If you weren't scared of König then there's no way you'd be scared of him. And you weren't. You were sweet on him just as he was to you. If he wasn't careful you'd give him a toothache.

It started with casual pleasantries.

Good morning, Krueger.

Gut Morgen my dear.

Two sugars, right?

No pickles.

You fell asleep once with your head against his bicep, exhausted, wiped out. Your head was so small in comparison to his arm, he could crush you like a bug. He'd done so with enemies of the past. He just looked down at you with a smile behind his head covering, blushing a little as you shifted deeper into his side.

You were never in field. Kept safe on base or at the rendezvous point. Out of sight, out of harm and yet even though you were never with him on the battlefield, you were on his mind. Maybe you felt it. Some telekinesis going on but as he laid low, out of harms way on a rooftop in the scorching Sahara, his comms crackled to life.

"Come in Krueger, what's your location?"

"Rooftop. Ten clicks south of the point, target inbound."

"Good. Ghost and Sergeant soap are on their way, wait for my go ahead before clearing the building."

"Roger that."

"Hey Sebastian?"

The sound of his birth name, coming from your mouth made him suddenly hyper aware and stiff. You only ever called him Krueger and it was in that very moment, that dusty hot second that he realized you'd canceled everyone else out, this was a one on one channel.

Alone.

"Ja?"

"You get this job done and make it back to base in one piece," your voice paused and returned momentarily with a smile he could only imagine. "I'll let you buy me dinner."

He'd never gotten a job done quicker than that. No wasted ammo, no casualties. His black heart was full and pumping when he boarded the helo, shoving their prisoner to the wall, seatbelt maybe a little too tight but for good reason, keep him for safe travel and questioning. He had a pep in his step and a grin on his face the whole time.

No one suspected a thing.

You were too cool, too aloof and breezy to let anything unsavory exist. He wondered how did it. How you could be so vulnerable, docile and submissive behind closed doors but be this calm outside of them. Balance, he supposed.

He watched you chat with Gaz, laughing at one of his many told jokes, one he'd heard a handful of times since joining the company. He could only muse how many times you must've heard it.

Kreuger leaned against the doorway with his arms crossed, listening but not paying any attention oh no. His sole attention was on you. How you smiled, the way you gently touched his Kyle's shoulder, the way your eyes glinted in the awful florescent lighting. The curve of your mouth, the tilt of your hip. The way your face changed when you caught him watching you.

You were trouble.

A brat.

The way you just so happen to let slip that you'd been needing a long hot shower after this exhausting week let him know your next move. Which meant Sebastian knew his.

It wasn't too long after departure did he venture out of his temporary quarters. A plain grey dresser and matching desk, walk in closet that was mostly bare save for a few key items and his toiletries, a decent king sized bed that he'd fucked you on all four corners of. The first of many late nights and bj's were had on those crisp sheets.

He waited until the rookies had their lights out checks before he slipped out of his room, a heavy towel around his bare shoulders, his tattoos and scars on display as he made his way down to the showers. Luckily the staff had their own private showers, no sharing or horseplay in there. There were at least stalls and cubicles for safety and privacy. Perfect. Krueger made sure the coast was clear before slipping into the room. The sound of a powerful shower head filled the space, warm steam and the scent of your body wash cloaked him in perverse glee. He double locked the door, holding onto the ends of his towel around his shoulders, Sebastian strutted through the locker room. He could hear you humming, coming around one of the corners he caught you with your face dripping with water, the palms of your hands at your eyes.

"Well what have we here?"

His thick accent made you jump and cover your not so private parts. You twisted and turned you're body to shield yourself.

"Krueger! You scared me you little perv, you're not supposed to be in here."

He laughed at your display, still soapy and slick. "I am not Krueger when we are alone, remember? Or… does my little toy need some reminding?"

"Sebastian!"

"What?"

"You can't… what if someone else is in here?"

"There isn't."

"How do you know?"

"Hallo!!??" He shouted, cupping around his mouth, he smiled in silence. "See? It's just you, me and the terrible water pressure."

You scoffed at that.

"Well… are you going to finish cleaning up or what?"

"With you watching?"

"Ja. Why not?"

"I feel like a goldfish." You admitted, still keeping some of your dignity which Krueger thought was cute.

"My dear, I have seen you much more compromising positions than simply bathing."

"That's not the point." You stuttered and looked down at your toes. "Should I perhaps join you then, schatzi? Would that be better?"

The water from your lashes streaked down your cheeks when you smiled and held out your soapy loofah. "Much."

….

He'd said it plenty of times before; you never looked better but each time it was a lie for the next time he got you alone. The suds of soap on your already soft and wet skin glistened in the low light, dripping down your arms, your legs, how the soap clung to your collarbones.

Beautiful.

Krueger removed his face covering, his belly flipped when you eyes him up and down as he stepped out of his sweats, kicking them aside along with his towel. Your traveling eyes only furthered his confidence as he came into your shower cubicle.

His wingspan was enough to block you in the tight quarters, the water rushed over your curves as you backed up, letting him into the space. His mind played tricks and thought intrusively that he could bust down these bricks like cardboard at the look you were giving him just then.

"Is this better, mein schatz?"

"Come closer." You breathed and moved around the shower, keeping your eyes locked on his as it was his turn to stand underneath the water. It splashed and dribbled down his body, his muscles warming in its delicate embrace.

Your hands looked so small whenever you touched him, going over his abdomen with the soapy loofah. He didn't mind that he'd be smelling like mango and shea. He found it pleasing, reminded him of you and suddenly the thought of having to buy a bottle of the stuff to occupy his toiletries once he left this place made him a little somber.

He didn't want to leave you.

The big killing man had a soft spot for you.

Sure, the others gave him shit for following you around like you had some invisible leash around his neck, he'd break fingers and backs of any of your enemies if given the lucky chance. He did so with ease because he was the one to warm your bed, make you laugh and hold you close.

Better to just fuck it out, his feelings could sort themselves down as they circled down the drain.

Your begging made him harder, you both knew his cock fit but to hear you beg for it, plead for him to give it to you made him feral. He grabbed your hip hard and placed your foot on the soap dish partition as he leaned forward, teasing you both as he tapped the head of his cock against your clit, slipping the shaft between your folds. He didn't press in right away, making you arch and pull him closer with a hand on the nape of his neck.

"Make it fit, Sebastian. Make it fit. Stretch me out." You whined, watching him rock his cock up against your folds, coating him with your arousal.

"That's what you want, hmm? Are you worried it won't?" Krueger teased, smiling at your focused face.

"I just…I just want it in me," you batted your lashes then, inching your pussy forward, begging for a little more friction, something only his cock could seem to reach. "I need you."

"Ah, and not just five minutes ago you were shooing me out of here, no? Now look at you, looking to get fucked in the showers by a visiting war criminal."

"Are you trying to turn me on even more?" Your giggle melted into a satisfied moan when he stuffed himself inside you. Thick, rock hard pulsing muscle sinking in deeper. You rested your head on his shoulder the closer he got.

"Oh fuck. That's it."

"This what you wanted, my dear? How quickly you fold for me, ja? How quickly your resolve leaves your body once you are full of me."

Krueger taunted, circling his hips as he held your ankle on the soap dish. His other hand came up to cup your breast as he really started to move and fuck you.

It was so hot and dirty, soap slick skin, sloppy wet kisses caught in between. You licked inside his mouth, your nails scratching down his back. You matched his enthusiasm, moving in unison.

Krueger planted his feet along the slick floor, grunting your name, panting out little phrases.

"Good girl."

"Keep it coming, baby. That's it."

"Good job baby, good job taking it all in."

"Ohhh you are really trying to milk my cock, hmmm? Go on then, squeeze me, squeeze it all out."

You sunk your teeth into his shoulder, keening and begging for more. The grey cloud of leaving you, this moment, this kind of sex crept around his shoulders. He hated it, shaking his head, wetting his face under the water.

"It's so good. You're so good," you cooed, petting his face and staring blissfully into his eyes. "So so good to me."

Krueger would be lying if your admittance didn't steal his breath. How you looked, in general and the way you looked at him like he was everything. Some precious jewel, a forbidden item. He licked his lips and kissed you hard, holding you somehow closer as his cock brushed up deep, nudging a spot inside your cunt that drove you wild. You bit his tongue.

"Oh shit, do that again! Fuck that's good."

"Ja, you like that? Like how I fit so perfectly in your perfect little cunt," Sebastian chuckled as you nodded frantically. "Wish I could take you with me. Keep you like trinket. Fuck, clench around me."

"I am." You moaned.

Sebastian paused, lifting your chin from his shoulder, cupping your cheek. He blinked rapidly.

"I put in a transfer."

"What? Why?"

"Why not? I'm not even from here!"

He gave you sideways look, brows coming together, broken pieces of him were being molded together, weaved together with whatever witchcraft you had. He would never get enough.

"Fuck yes." Krueger kissed you again, sweeter than the last but there was more feeling behind it. "You're mine. All mine now."

Your sobs for more boosted his already incredibly high ego, making him fuck you faster, made him feral with desire as he pinched your nipples, bit the side of your neck, groaned almost pathetically into your ear, licked the shell of it. He called you every beautiful word he knew, huffing when you sang his name.

"Fuck I'm… it's coming, I'm coming, Make me cum, please! I need it, I need it so badly. I'm gonna' cum so fucking hard, don't stop don't stop don't--"

"Atta' girl, there's my girl, Moan it out baby, let me hear it. Let me know how good you feel right now." Krueger sighed when you responded in kind, whining and throbbing your release around him. He wasn't going to last much longer either, everything felt so decadent and warm and safe.

Sebastian pulled out, fucking his fist instead but lost his balance as you suddenly dropped down to your knees, your hot mouth on his cock, tasting yourself along with his pre-cum made him groan. His breath hiccupped the deeper you took him down your throat.

"Fuck… that's it baby, good God you're so good at taking cock. Doesn't matter which hole. Swallow it down, that's it. Be a good girl, fuck… swallow it all down. It's coming baby, get that pretty mouth ready for me. I can't---I'm coming. Here it comes baby."

You looked like a goddess down there, swallowing his load, gulping it down. You barely showed him your empty mouth before he hauled your ass back up to your feet, crushing you into a sudsy embrace. He kissed you again, tasting everything.

"You are everything to me." He confessed.

"That's why I'm coming with you. Where you go, I go."

He'd figure something out, he thought as the water began to chill. Mixing business with pleasure was always a toss up, could make for a shaky foundation but that's the thing with balance.

#sebastian krueger #krueger #kruger cod #cod krueger #krueger x reader #krueger x female reader #krueger x you #sebastian krueger x reader #sebastian krueger x female reader #sebastian krueger x you #sebastian krueger imagine #krueger imagine #sebastian krueger fiction #sebastian krueger fanfic #sebastian krueger fanfiction #krueger fic #krueger fanfic #krueger fanfiction

[blubushie]

hihihi can we get a part 2 for gun mistakes??? -leafanon

G'day leafanon!

FOR ANIMATORS/AUTHORS/ARTISTS PT. 2

SNIPERS WILL NOT STICK THE BARREL OF THEIR RIFLE OUT OF OPEN WINDOWS. Best case scenario is you’re sat in a mildly-uncomfortable chair while your spotter stands or sits next to you in an even more uncomfortable chair with a rangefinder. Before rangefinders were introduced (1990s and earlier) you were merely going off estimates (“That building is 50 yards, the next is 25, etc etc”). You never put the barrel out a window because it’d give away your position and put you AND YOUR SPOTTER in danger.

MOST MODERN SCOPES HAVE AN ANTI-GLARE COATING AND/OR A SUNSHADE TO PREVENT GIVING AWAY YOUR POSITION. This is especially useful when hunting as many animals (deer, turkeys, pigs) are incredibly vigilant and will bolt if they see the glint off a scope. This also helps with the sunlight hitting your scope and nearly blinding you from taking your shot. There are some cases of this still happening in “modern” times (notoriously the sniper duel between Carlos Hathcock and Cobra, a North Vietnamese sniper during the Vietnam War) but it’s very rare and scopes that are currently used by police, military, and most hunters don’t glint. This is what a sunshade looks like.

BULLETS DO NOT PENETRATE WATER WELL. Water density is much higher than air and the shape of bullets means they don’t travel well in water. Most bullets will fragment or fold upon hitting the surface of the water and their speed is greatly reduced. Supersonic rounds (such as rifle-calibre, up to .50) fragment within a metre (~3ft) of the water’s surface. Slower sub-sonic rounds (such a pistol-calibre) can travel up to 3m (~10ft). Once you’re a metre under the surface, however, it’s unlikely for any round under .50 to even penetrate you on contact as it loses most of its kinetic power. Arrows however are very aerodynamic and may maintain their kinetic energy up to 2m (~6) and perhaps twice that if you're shooting straight down.

RESEARCH. RESEARCH. RESEARCH. Know the weapons you draw/animate/write. It might not matter to you, but it will make or break it to your viewer. Is the weapon single-shot or does it use a magazine? What is the magazine capacity? What is the recoil? How do you reload? What do you do in case of a jam? Does your character know the weapon well? YouTube is your best friend in this regard.

CLIPS AND MAGAZINES ARE NOT THE SAME THING. These are clips vs magazines. Clips are open and hold the cartridge by the bottom. Magazines fully enclose the cartridges. Clips only hold rounds together to make them easier to feed into a magazine.

BLOODY TRIGGER DISCIPLINE. If your character is waving a firearm around with their finger on the trigger I am personally coming to kick your arse. You keep your finger off the trigger until you’re ready to shoot. YOU DO NOT POINT YOUR MUZZLE TOWARD ANYTHING YOU ARE NOT WILLING TO SHOOT.

PROPANE TANKS WILL NOT EXPLODE IF YOU SHOOT THEM. Also, handguns are rarely powerful enough to pierce propane tanks. CARS WILL NOT BLOW UP IF YOU SHOOT THE PETROL TANK.

IF YOU FIRE A FIREARM IN AN ENCLOSED SPACE IT IS GOING TO TEMPORARILY DEAFEN YOU. GUNS ARE BLOODY LOUD. That’s why we wear ear protection. This applies less in intense combat situations as (in my experience) tinnitus doesn't happen if you start shooting after your adrenaline starts pumping.

MAG-DUMPING. Not only is it very dangerous because of the recoil, it’s a stupid waste of ammo as the recoil buggers up your aim so you’re rarely hitting your target. Unless your character is in a panic and/or holding down the trigger out of rage, they’re not going to mag-dump because you’ll empty your entire magazine in only a few seconds (stupid in a combat situation) and rarely hit your target. Fully automatic weapons are fired in short bursts of 2-5 rounds at a time.

IT’S INCREDIBLY DIFFICULT TO HIT A MOVING TARGET. IT’S EVEN HARDER TO DO IT WHEN YOU’RE THE ONE MOVING. Rounds fired while moving are typically just suppression fire—basically shots fired to make your enemy take cover so that they have no time to shoot at you. You are not aiming at a specific target. It’s spray-and-pray.

HIPFIRING IS SPRAY-AND-PRAY. It’s EXTREMELY difficult to hit a target while hipfiring and hitting any intentional target while doing so requires EXTENSIVE practice. For this reason most hipfiring is spray-and-pray—spray, and pray you hit something.

SHOTGUNS ARE EFFECTIVE AT MUCH FURTHER THAN ONLY A YARD OR TWO. Most stay clustering within 50yds. That’s this distance. If you're firing a slug it can be accurate to up to TWICE THIS DISTANCE.

SHOTGUNS WILL NOT THROW THE VICTIM ACROSS A ROOM. They don’t have that much kinetic power, and even if they did, they’d throw the shooter across the room first because they’re taking the brunt of the kinetic energy in the form of recoil.

BULLETS WILL PEIRCE CARS. Car doors will not protect you from bullets, not even the door of a police cruiser. THE ONLY PART OF A CAR THAT WILL PROTECT YOU FROM BULLETS IS THE ENGINE BLOCK. The rest is just concealment cover and will not protect you.

MOST CRIMINALS IN THE USA WILL NOT HAVE FULLY AUTOMATIC WEAPONS. This is less applicable to scenes that occur before the 1980s when there were more full-auto weapons on the streets, but even then were INCREDIBLY expensive and even your most notorious gangster would be unlikely to have them. Unless your character is a top-of-the-line 1920s-1940s Chicago/NY mobster, they probably won’t have that Tommy gun unless they’re filthy rich or the weapon was given to them by someone else who's filthy rich.

YES, YOU CAN MAKE RUNAWAY GUNS (FULL-AUTO) OUT OF SEMI-AUTO FIREARMS. NO, I WILL NOT TELL YOU HOW TO MAKE THEM. The issue with runaway guns is that once you pull the trigger THEY WILL NOT STOP FIRING EVEN IF YOU TAKE YOUR FINGER OFF THE TRIGGER. THEY WILL KEEP FIRING UNTIL THE MAGAZINE IS EMPTY OR UNTIL THEY JAM. For this reason no one in their right mind is making a runaway gun.

STOP HOLDING YOUR HANDGUN SIDEWAYS. YOU DON'T LOOK COOL, YOU LOOK LIKE AN IDIOT AND THAT'S HOW YOU GET JAMS. Having a character do this is a great way to show they're all bluff and an idiot, though.

YOU CANNOT PUT A SUPPRESSOR ON A REVOLVER. Well, technically you can, but it won't work. There's a gap between the cylinder and the bore and in this space is something called the forcing cone. There's a gap between the forcing cone and the bore which allows gas (and sound) to escape from the cylinder, which renders the suppressor absolutely useless since the sound and gas just escapes anyway.

FOR VISUAL CREATORS SPECIFICALLY: REMEMBER EYE RELIEF. YOU NEED TO BE A CERTAIN DISTANCE FROM THE SCOPE TO GET A FULL PICTURE. IF YOUR CHARACTER HAS THEIR EYE TO THE SCOPE THEY ARE GOING TO GIVE THEMSELF A BLACK EYE WITH THE RECOIL. My personal eye relief when shooting my .30-06 is 10cm (~4in). Higher calibre means more kick, which means more eye relief.

As before, if I think of any more I'll add them later!

As always, if you have any questions feel free to send me an ask!

#blu whos #blu pew #bushman #firearms #art tips #writing tips #not tf2 again but w/e

[ohsalome]

Sorry to bother you again, but as another russian atrocity happens, people keep writing to me, saying, why are you so confident that it was russians who sent the missile, or, which is worse, "Why do you never talk about missile attacks by ZSU?". I usually reply that (at least in russian space) that ZSU attacks have already been talked about too much. But what do you commonly say in this kind of cases. I wonder what others do too. It's been in my mind since the first months of the war.

I'm not sure if I understood you correctly, but if a person is unable to distinguish between, say, terrorist attacks on malls and blowing up weapons depots, they are clearly not making a good faith argument, in which case "хуй будеш?" is the most appropriate answer.

On a more serious note, the correct answer that Ukraine is fighting a defensive war, and we only attack valid military targets, which includes all enemy soldiers on our soil, training bases, weapons depots, oil storage facilities, etc. Even if we were the cannibalistic bloodthirsty nazis russian propaganda paints us, we still would have no use of doing an "eye for an eye" and terrorising civillian russian population, as they still have a missile advantage over us; and cannot afford wasting our ammo on targets that would not give us any military advantage. But if ukrainian missiles worry russians so much, they can ask their generals to be useful and calculate the furthest distance Ukrainian artillery can reach and just move away to the safety.

We also haven't been hitting russian targets actively since the first months of war, so the whole argument, at least from how I understood it, reads like "how dare Ukraine resist a genocidal invasion". Because fuck you, that's why.

#response #clarification - the fuck you is directed at the hypothetica person you're talking to and not at you

[cod-dump]

You know what I really liked the MP videogame ask so i want to try again

Multiplayer games and who's banned from them:

Cod zombies: gaz, horangi

Halo coop (campaign firefight spartan ops): roach

New Minecraft server: kronig, roach

Elden ring: ghost

Fallout 76: price, roach

Mario kart: soap

Battlefield: roach, kronig, ghost

For honor: kronig, horangi

Day z: price, gas

War thunder: nikolai, kamarov

Smash bros: laswell, mama mctavish

Horangi has abandoned Gaz and left him to fend for himself so many times while playing Zombies. But if Gaz does it to him he will physically fight him, and he doesn’t care who’s in between them. It’s only with Gaz, for some reason. He’ll help anyone else but Gaz. Gaz returns the favor. Horangi forces them to play Mob of the Dead then screams about it later. Gaz also picks the worst maps to get back at Horangi. They are no longer allowed to play together, especially after the Hell Hound Incident.

“Gaz… No-“

“It’s too late, Hong-Jin. There’s nothing I can do-“

“KYLE-“

“Goodbye, Hong-Jin. You won’t be missed.”

“DON’T LEAVE ME-“

Horangi gets obliterated by hell hounds as Gaz watched. That marked the last time they played together.

___

It’s not that Roach tries to make them fail— He just sucks at the game. He’s not big on shooters and panics when the enemy swarm him. Thankfully there isn’t friendly fire because he has wasted so much ammo on teammates. He has shot Ghost so many times and then screams when the enemy show up. He’s been banned from playing now and cries about being excluded despite knowing he sucks ass at the game.

“GHOST- HOLY SHIT— I’M OUT OF AMMO!”

Ghost ignores him.

“PLEASE THE BRUTE—“

Loud sighing.

“Thank you-“

“Shut the fuck up.”

___

Once more, they allowed Roach to play Minecraft with everyone. No one has said anything about his past crimes so König is unaware of how Roach is when he plays. That’s okay. König is worse. Everyone got together and took over a village and made it their own… and König discovered a Ancient City under it. He had made a massive mine that allowed the Warden to get to the surface relatively easy. Everyone was screaming and discovered all of their loot was misplaced (stolen) and they all had to run and abandon the village. Now both König and Roach are banned from playing. That’s fine, they went a made a server together.

___

Don’t trust Ghost when he says he knows a place while playing Elden Ring because he does know a place. A place where you’ll die without a chance to defend yourself. If he dies to a boss he’ll lure the others to that same boss and watch them die. He has days on this game, way above everyone else, so if he dies to a boss they don’t even have a chance. They don’t play with him anymore.

___

Price enjoys attacking people on Fallout 76. He constantly has a bounty on him. Roach took after him quickly in this game because they both tried to kill each other and failed. Now they team up and hunt everyone else. Since Price has reached the SPECIAL cap and is now using his power for evil, the entire game turned into a manhunt. You can’t bribe either of them to leave you be. You can’t join them either. All you can do is run. Though Ghost has gotten the jump on Roach, he didn’t escape Price. Needless to say they don’t play with them anymore.

“I see you-“

“FUCK OFF NO YOU DON’T!”

Soap gets shot in the head. Roach did in fact see him.

___

Soap is a bitch at Mario Kart. Don’t try to play as Wario. Wario is reserved for Soap and Soap alone. He has a deadly aim with shells and always picks one person to target each game. He’s not even trying to win, he’s just trying to fuck over his chosen victim. He pisses off everyone when he does this and has actually been punched over it before. Only those who don’t know him play with him. The fools.

___

They were all excited for Battlefield 5. Then Roach, König, and Ghost reminded them all why they can’t have nice things. So much screaming and cussing and literal death threats. Roach always chases the closest person. He usually goes after König because he panics and can’t aim worth shit when he panics but sometimes he goes after Ghost… and immediately regrets it. If Roach or König get the drop on Ghost— They’re dead in real life. If the three are on the same team they spend the entire time fucking each other over. Soap hates playing with them because they don’t take the game as seriously as he does.

___

When playing For Honor, König is actually scary good at this game. At first he helped out Horangi but once Horangi showed a tiny bit of skill it was over. König insists that he targets Horangi because he just wants to help him improve. Everyone knows that’s a lie. It doesn’t matter if they’re on the same team or not, König goes after Horangi. He’s nice to everyone else but Horangi gets ‘special treatment’.

“FUCK YOU!” Horangi screams after König team kills him and then refuses to revive him.

“I love you~”

Horangi doesn’t feel loved.

___

Price and Gaz started playing Day Z to have something just for them. After they got a good footing in the game they decided to be nice and invite everyone else to play with them. They helped everyone get started. Helped them get okay gear and weapons… then the betrayal. Everyone was cussing and screaming as Price and Gaz killed them and took their gear.

“Execute Order 66,” muttered Price.

That would be their only warning before all went to hell.

___

War Thunder is normally only played by Nik and Kamarov. It’s their game and they usually play when no one else around, meaning no one had any clue to what they were like. Have you ever been sniped by a tank? No? Don’t worry, Nik will make sure you have a lovely experience. You won’t even see him and you’re dead. There’s a lot of Russian screaming, you have no idea what’s going on, and Kamarov just dived bomb you for the third time in a row. Nik and Kamarov are a deadly team. Price flipped his tank and Nik and Kamarov didn’t kill him but did keep everyone else from helping Price.

___

The one time Laswell was over for game night, Soap’s mom also happened to be there. To be nice they all picked a fun game that the two would be able to enjoy. A game that, normally, none of them rage over. Soap’s mom picked Kirby, gushing over how cute he was, while Laswell picked Toon Link. Soap had forgotten that his mom plays this game with his nieces and nephews and only mentioned it after she kicked everyone’s ass. Only Laswell stood a chance against her. Soap automatically cheered for his mom but quieted down after a murderous glare from Laswell. They all discovered Laswell’s competitive nature and that Soap’s mom was a sore loser that night. They swore to never play Smash Bros again.

#banned games #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #john price #kim horangi hong jin #cod konig #gary roach sanderson #cod nikolai #kate laswell #cod kamarov #call of duty #cod mwii #modern warfare ii #ask #thanks for the ask <3

[wilt1ng]

BG3 ASTARION ONE-SHOT:

His Capture

Warnings: Mature Content, dubcon cw, Predator v prey, stalking, horny. 😇

-

You had tested your luck one too many times traveling by yourself near nightfall.

Someone was lurking beneath the shadows, following you no matter the distance you created. You tried your best to venture forward in a calm manner so as not to alert whatever was following you that you had caught on, but your heart rate betrayed that facade.

In a swift motion, you hid yourself behind a tree. Knowing it'd only be momentarily until your stalker had caught up, you grabbed a dagger you hid within the boot. Your heart was nearly pounding from your chest, not sure who had the upper hand here. Silence with the occasion stir of nature was all you heard for long agonizing minutes before deciding you may need to investigate.

You knelt low to the floor and peeked your head from your position, finding nothing to see except the plains. Releasing a breath of relief, you felt as if you were perhaps being paranoid. A susceptible conclusion if it weren't for the cold hands that wrapped around your neck.

Before you could scream, you felt their hand harshly muzzle your mouth. They attacked from behind, so you couldn't yet catch a glimpse of your attacker. They took advantage of your weakened position and pushed you into the grass beneath you. Now that they had you on your stomach, face in the dirt, you were where vulnerable for the taking.

"My, my, a human traveling alone at night? I just had to accept the invitation." He taunted

You felt his breath against the back of your neck as his nose dipped in and from the crevice of your neck, taunting your naivety to his intentions.

"Thought you could best me, little bird?"

"Please, I have gold-"

The man brought a dagger to your throat, and it was much sharper than your own.

"I don't give a damn about your money. What I desire is far more valuable... and you can give it to me."

"Gods, don't kill me." You begged.

"Your gods aren't here, darling, only I."

He pulled the dagger from your throat and held it to your back instead.

"Turn around and look at me."

You hesitated. A moment too long apparently.

"I won't ask again, dear."

Astarion poked his dagger further into your back, barely penetrating skin.

You winced and turned around as you were told. Finally, your eyes met with those of a predator. Just by his crimson red eyes and pale complexion, you could see what he truly was.

"Like what you see?" He asked, poking fun in your stunned appearance.

Instinctually, you brought your hand to your neck, now realizing what he had in store for you.

"No... no, please."

"No, as in you 'don't' like what you see or?" Astarion asked, half genuine.

"I won't allow you my blood, demon." You retorted.

"Oh really?" Astarion lifted the tip of his blade to your throat.

"And what exactly are you going to do to stop me?"

You were lost in silence, knowing all you had for ammo was empty threats and wishes. You knew he was in complete control of this situation, and at any moment, he could take what he desires.

"I..." You wanted to say something, anything to delay the inevitable.

"I, I what?" He smiled, cocking his head at you.

"I 'need' you? Or... I will obey?" Astarion mocked.

"Well, I sure hope you will, my dear."

He traced the tip of his dagger up and down your neck with enough force to scrape your skin. You shared no reaction, maybe from bravery or maybe from fear. Either way, you wouldn't react.

"You're quite... something you know."

Astarion brought the blade to the collar of your shirt.

"It would be a waste to bleed you dry in one sitting. So why don't you make this easy for both of us?"

You looked up at him, only now realizing the prominence of your height difference.

"You'll spare me... if I comply?" You asked, mostly for assurance.

Astarion smiled.

"Darling, I'll do more than spare you. I'll leave you with a night you won't soon forget I can promise you that."

There was a tone shift in his voice, something much more lustful. With his free hand, Astarion tucked a fallen strand of hair behind your ear, grazing your cheek in the process. His touch was cold but electrifying. You almost craved more.

"Will it hurt?" You asked, that sense of worry in your voice.

"Now darling, let's not ask stupid questions."

Astarion brought his hand to your neck and caressed your vein gently with his thumb.

"It will hurt, at first."

His gaze never left you.

"But... you'll feel more exilerating things than pain. I can promise you that."

You were silent a moment, but not as long as before. You learned your lesson keeping him waiting.

"You're talking as if I chose this. I have no choice than to do as you say." You boldy retorted.

"You could always die?" Astarion replied nonchalantly.

If looks could kill, he'd be dead.

"Fuck." You sighed to yourself, avoiding his gaze a mere moment.

Astarion cupped your face in his hand, making you look at him.

"You can scream if it becomes too much.~" Astarion smiled, leaning closer to your face. You wanted to back away, but he held you tight in place.

Before you could register it, Astarion intertwined his fingers within your hair and pulled you even closer, planting his cold lips onto your own. The shock of feeling his fangs brush your lip felt like a gamble in itself. This wasn't part of his deal, and the both of you knew it. Astarion was just being greedy.

You attempted to shove him away, of course, but what good did that do? Instead, Astarion forced your footing backward until you found yourself sandwiched between him and a stone wall. The force from which you were slammed made you gasp, allowing his tongue further entry.

With enough strength that you can muster, you began to slam your fists against his chest, but to no avail. Astarion grabbed your wrists easily with just one hand as he furthered his advances. After many efforts to shove him off, he finally sunk his fang into your bottom lip. The shock made you wince in pain, moaning against his mouth in agony.

"Hush now, little bird.~" Astarion spoke softly as he continued to lick and nibble on your lip, savoring every moment.

"I know it hurts, but you're doing so good." He praised, hugging your body closer.

Eventually, Astarion's lips traveled their way to the most sensitive spots on your neck. He knew every which way to make you gasp and shudder under his touch. Truth was his thirst was already satisfied, but a new hunger grew.

"O-okay." You uttered softly, putting your hands inbetween him and your chest.

"That's enough."

But Astarion didn't want to stop. He continued licking and sucking onto your neck until your vision began darkening.

"S-stop." You weakly demanded, barely able to speak above a whisper.

Astarion continued hushing you as he planted kisses onto your neck and jawline, placing bites here and there.

"You're my favorite thus far." Astarion moaned into your neck. He pulled away and leaned into your ear, merely brushing it with his lips.

"I think I'll keep you."

#bg3 astarion #bg3 #bg3 x reader #astarionxreader #astariononeshots #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #xreader #oneshots

[rfsak2]

Y’all are the fuckin’ best. I love all of y’all so very much. Please continue to leave me comments and likes. Let me know if I can do anything for you!

Onward!

Spitfire, Pt. 3

Everyone always thought Daryl was the rough one. DarylxOC

Warnings: violence, lots of bad language words, discussion of r*** and the a**** of children.

Part 2

**

Rick unrolled the small cache of weapons Carl had found the day before. “Everybody takes a weapon.”

“These aren’t the kind of weapons we need.” Andrea set a hand on her hip. “What about the guns?”

“We been over that?” Shane huffed. “Daryl, Mitzi, Rick and I are carrying. We can’t have people popping off rounds every time a tree rustles.”

“It’s not the trees I’m worried about.”

Mitzi arched a brow. “Might as well be. Walkers do not think, do not strategize. We just need to stay quiet and smart. Guns are not quiet and guns in untrained hands are not smart.”

Andrea bit the inside of her cheek. “How is it smart to go out there without guns?”

Mitzi rolled her eyes. “Because you don’t need a gun for a single walker. It’s a waste of ammo. Using a knife or a machete is more practical and safer.” She turned to the rest of the group. “If you don’t feel ready to take down a walker without a gun,” Mitzi gestured around them. “Today’s the day. We can do some practical self-defense training. Practice makes perfect.”

“It’s easy for you to say we don’t need guns.” Andrea sucked on her teeth, gesturing at her suppressed hunting rifle. “You’re carrying a gun.”

Mitzi grinned. “A gun I won’t be using if we come across a single walker. Pinky promise.” She patted her hunting knife in its holster.

“That’s not all.” Shane scoffed. “Say somebody fires at the wrong moment, a herd happens to be passing by. See, then it’s game over for all of us. So you need to get over it.”

Andrea looked disappointed, but didn’t press the issue.

“Th’idea’s to take the creek up about five miles, turn around and come back down the other side.” Daryl nodded vaguely. “Chances are she’ll be by the creek, it’s her only landmark.”

“Stay quiet and stay sharp,” Rick added. “Keep space between you but always stay within sight of each other.”

They all nodded and Shane directed people to assemble their packs while Rick turned to Dale.

Daryl crossed to the abandoned Ford pickup behind her. He tapped Mitzi’s side as he passed and jerked his chin toward the truck.

She followed, checking the clip on her handgun as she watched Andrea and Dale argue over the CDC incident.

Daryl caught her eyes and Mitzi made a face.

“What?”

She sighed and whispered so only he could hear, holstering her pistol. “Not sayin’ either of them are right or wrong. Dale needs to mind his business and she needs to stop blaming him for her not makin’ the decision she wanted to make… Regardless, I’ll be glad when the soap opera is over.”

He nodded. “Don’t trust her with a gun.” He shrugged. “Not ‘cause wanted t’off herself neither, she’s too jumpy.”

“She thinks she’s smarter than everyone else. And maybe she is, but she can’t grasp why we don’t want everyone havin’ guns. Doesn’t sound so smart to me.” She noted.

Daryl patted her thigh and moved to lead the group down to the creek.

Carl and Lori passed by her and she reached over to ruffle his hair. When he turned to look at her, she stuck her tongue out at him.

Carl smiled and stuck his tongue out at her in return.

Lori smiled at her. “You’re good with kids.”

Mitzi huffed out a laugh. “Don’t know about that.”

“No, you are. You never really interacted with them at the old camp, but I saw you playing foozball with them at the CDC. They have fun with you.”

Mitzi shrugged. “I have younger brothers.”

Lori looked shocked and, when Mitzi looked confused, she shrugged. “I’m sorry but I just- I feel horrible, I haven’t thought about your family.”

Mitzi waved her off. “Don’t worry about it. None of us have really had time to think beyond right now.”

“How much younger than you are they?”

“Davey is seven years younger, Mikey almost fifteen.”

Lori hummed. “Your parents spaced them out.”

Mitzi sighed. “I appreciate you not assumin’.” She grinned. “We had different mothers. My dad was a dick.”

Lori chuckled slightly. “Sorry.”

Mitzi made a face, dismissing the apology. “It is what it is. They were- are still my brothers.”

“Do you know if they’re okay?”

Mitzi shook her head. “When all the stuff started comin’ up on th’news, I spoke to them. Wasn’t able to get them on the phone since then. They’re with my cousin and Will’s always been somethin’ of a prepper, so I like to think they’re alright.”

Lori smiled again, nodding. “You and Daryl, yeah?”

Mitzi frowned. “Can’t be much’a surprise.”

She shook her head. “No, it wasn’t. Y’all make sense.”

“Birds of a feather and all that.”

“That’s part of it, sure. You have some similarities in temperament. You’re both very direct, willing to help.” Lori smiled down at her. “But you two seem more at ease with each other than you are apart.”

Mitzi nodded. “As at ease as you can be.”

“Well… for that matter, you both are well-equipped for this.” She made a motion around her.

“Not much of a choice.” Mitzi tsked, making a face. “Die or do not. I can say for my part, that this is exhausting. And it’s not sustainable. I’m trained to do it, sure. Spend the majority of a six or eight-month long deployment moving from place to place, hiding out in the wild, but-“ she whistled.

Lori nodded. “I agr-“

Mitzi held up a finger and pointed behind them, where Carl was speaking with Shane.

Lori reached out and motioned Carl in front of her, between her and Mitzi. “Gotta keep up.”

Carl sighed heavily. “I am.”

Mitzi glanced at Lori and then back at Shane. She caught Lori’s eye and whispered, ‘Dick.’

Lori took a deep breath and addressed Carl. “You okay?”

Carl hung his head. “I think Shane’s mad at me. Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” Lori rubbed at his back. “No, honey I promise you. He’s just worried about Sophia is all. Come on.”

Mitzi nodded. “Sometimes worry makes adults jerks. Sure he didn’t mean anythin’ by it. You wanna show me your knife?”

Carl smiled up at her, passing her the little 3-inch blade Lori had let him carry. “Isn’t it cool, Ms. Mitzi?”

She nodded. “Pretty cool indeed. I’ll have to show you how to clean it later.”

Carl nodded enthusiastically and she handed it back.

“Mitzi.”

She looked up the line where Rick was motioning for her and stepped around Glenn. As she cleared Rick’s side, she saw a small tent in a copse of trees.

Daryl caught her eyes and motioned her to come closer. “Need’ya to cover the entrance as I check it.”

She nodded and passed her rifle to Rick, shooting a look at Andrea as she pulled her hunting knife from its holster.

Shane rounded the line of trees. “She could be in there.”

Daryl advanced quietly, Mitzi at his shoulder, Rick and Shane behind. “Could be a lotta things in there.”

She squatted about a foot away from the zippered door, knife in hand, while Daryl attempted to peek in the door and window.

He motioned vaguely at Rick who turned to direct Carol to call out for Sophia.

Daryl caught her eye and Mitzi raised her knife at the door when no response came.

Daryl gingerly opened the zipper, parted the flap and coughed. The smell hit Mitzi a second later.

She winced, eyes watering, but fought to keep her eyes open. Keeping her voice low, she nodded at Daryl. “Whatever’s in there is dead but it ain’t movin’.”

Daryl nodded and stepped in, emerging a moment later empty handed. “It ain’t her.”

She heard Carol’s relieved sigh and Mitzi took Daryl’s hand, allowing him to pull her to a stand.

“What’s in there?”

Daryl turned to Andrea. “Some guy. Did what Jenner said. Opted out. Ain’t that what he called it?”

He shouldered his crossbow and they all jumped when the church bells started ringing.

**

“What happened?” Mitzi was still about 15 yards away when she saw the small gaggle of group members. The anxiety in their body language reading loud and clear across the distance.

Then she saw Andrea and Dale running full speed across the field and Mitzi felt her gut drop.

“Is he dead? Is he dead?”

“What the fuck happened?” She closed the distance fast but was still a couple yards away when Rick turned and caught her eyes.

“Mitzi, stay back!”

She ignored him, arching to see what they were gathering around. She caught sight of the crossbow on the ground and froze.

“Is that Daryl?” She pushed forward.

Rick turned to her again, pulling a limp arm up over his shoulder. “Mitzi-“

“Is he…” she swallowed dryly. “Is he dead?”

Glenn turned, shaking his head and reaching for her shoulder. “No, he just passed out.”

“Passed out?” Breathing deep, she passed her rifle off to Glenn. She stepped around him and shouldered her way between Shane and Daryl’s other side, pulling his arm over her other shoulder. “What happened?”

She noticed the blood along the hem of his shirt and caught Rick’s eyes. With shaking hands, she lifted his shirt to expose his side.

She gasped when she saw the puncture wounds, the lump in her throat loosening suddenly. “He wasn’t bit.”

When no one else seemed to relax, she frowned. “What?”

She felt something on her shoulder and saw blood dripping from a cut near Daryl’s temple. She pushed his hair away from the wound and her blood boiled.

It was a bullet graze wound, clear as day.

She turned, catching Andrea’s terrified eyes. “You shot him?”

Andrea stuttered. “I thought he was a walker… I couldn’t see.”

“You couldn’t see and you still took the fuckin’ shot?” Her voice rose and she saw Andrea blanch. “Are you fuckin’ stupid?”

Rick abruptly shifted, forcing her to take more of Daryl’s weight. Shane shifted closer to her elbow.

“I’m sorry… I was just-“

“Fuck your sorry.” Mitzi cut her off, snarling.

“I was just trying-“

“If you say that you were trying to protect the group, I’ll knock your teeth down your throat.”

“Mitzi-“ Rick crossed his arm over Daryl’s back to touch her shoulder, taking more of Daryl’s weight back. “It was an accident.”

“A fuckin’ avoidable one. You two bozos keep coddlin’ her fuckin’ feelin’s and now y’see where it gets us.” She shifted Daryl’s weight against hers. “Now git outta my way or help me get him to th’house.”

Rick nodded. “Glenn, grab his bow, please.”

**

“M’fine.”

She whittled a piece of wood of the branch she was holding. “I know you’re fine. If you weren’t, she-“

“Baby.” Daryl huffed out a raspy laugh. “M’fine.”

She glanced at him, rolling her eyes. “You’re lucky, stupid bitch coulda killed ya.”

“She was tryin’ to protect the camp.”

Mitzi grit her teeth and set her knife and wood down. “I know what she was tryin’ t’do. I do. But what she was tryin’ and what she did are two different things.”

“It was an accident.”

“Oh, I’m so tired of hearing’ that.” She rotated her neck, agitated. “Excuse after excuse. No one willing to sack up and tell her the truth.”

“It was an accident, Spitfire.”

“A dumb one. She shouldn’t ‘ve taken a shot she couldn’t spot. She shouldn’t ‘ve picked up a rifle when she hasn’t even been trained on the handgun.” Mitzi scoffed. “Shouldn’t ‘ve shot a lone walker.”

He conceded.

She picked at her nails. “To be honest if she helped more, if she wasn’t so fixated on doin’ the one thing she hasn’t been trained to do, I wouldn’t be so angry.”

“So it wasn’t just ‘cause she hurt me?” Daryl smirked at her. “Here I was thinkin’ you were bein’ my white knight.”

She chuckled. “Next time, I’ll leave you layin’ in the dirt.”

He smiled and held his hand out to her. She stood, laying her hand in his. He tugged her gently to the bed and she sat gingerly next to him.

“I could kinda hear ya. I wasn’t all the way out.”

She hummed and teased her fingers through his hair.

“You sounded scared.”

“I was.” She shrugged.

“Scared to lose me?”

She took a moment to observe him, the quiet stillness that always followed a question that felt more vulnerable for him.

She nodded. “I’ve never…” she searched for the word, “clicked with someone this way. I don’t know if you feel the same way, but I enjoy who I am around you. Feel accepted, seen, for the first time in a while.”

He nodded, squeezing her knee.

“So yeah, I’m not quite ready to be without ya, Daryl Dixon.” She leaned over and kissed him softly. “Not nearly.”

There was a knock at the door and they both turned to Carol.

She smiled shyly. “I brought y’all some food.”

Mitzi smiled. “Thanks, Carol.”

Carol nodded and lingered at the door. She fidgeted and then steeled her shoulders. “I just wanted to say: you did more for my daughter than her own daddy did for her his whole life.”

Daryl nodded awkwardly. Carol leaned down after a moment and pressed a kiss to his head.

He stuttered. “Watch out. I got stitches.”

Mitzi hid a smile until the door closed behind Carol. Once it did, she giggled. “You’re blushin’.”

Daryl turned to eye her. “You like when I blush.”

She grinned. “I do but you got stitches.”

**

“Mitzi-“

Mitzi shook her head, forcibly cracking a branch over her knee and tossing it in a kindling pile.

“Can I talk with you please?”

“No.” She set a log onto a wood block.

“Please.”

She lifted the ax over her head and brought it down hard on the log she was splitting. Continuing to ignore Andrea, she tossed one half of the log out of the way and set the other up to be split again.

Andrea shifted, uncomfortable, and jumped when the ax came down.

“Mitzi-“

“I said ‘no.’” She snarled over her shoulder. “I ain’t ‘bout’ta waste m’time talkin’ at someone who don’t fuckin’ want t’listen.”

She tossed the two new halves and picked up another piece.

Andrea sighed. “I’m ready to listen.”

Mitzi turned on her. “Oh, you’re ready to listen? After you shot someone? That’s goddamn convenient.”

“Daryl accepted my apology.” She sounded almost incredulous, impatient.

Mitzi went back to splitting wood. “That’s his prerogative. You shot him.”

“Then why can’t you?”

She tossed a split log in the general direction of Hershel’s wood shed.

“I don’t know what your problem is.”

Mitzi shook her head. “That’s ‘cause you don’t listen.”

“No,” Andrea was indignant, hand on her hip. “You have never said-“

“Are you really that stupid?” Mitzi turned back to Andrea, ax in hand. “Or is your head that far up your ass?”

“I accidentally-“

“I know it was an accident. If I thought it had been on purpose, we woulda been dragging your ass back to camp, not just Daryl.”

Andrea’s eyes were on the ax and Mitzi could see Rick and Shane watching her from near the RV. She huffed out a laugh and lifted the ax, bringing it down on the wood block she had been chopping on.

Andrea jumped.

“You see that?” Mitzi pointed at the former cops who were still watching them. “If I had laid your ass out in that field, I would’ve ended up with my face in the dirt, even though you almost killed someone.”

Andrea nodded, arms crossed over her chest. “You’re a hothead, so-“

“I am. But I’m not gonna ax ya because you’re stupid.” Mitzi turned away again, tossing another split log into the pile. “No matter how entitled you are.”

“Entitled?”

“Yeah. Entitled.” Mitzi spat to the side. “Walkin’ around like your shit don’t stink. Like we fuckin’ owe you shit.”

“I do not act like you owe me anything.” Andrea huffed. “I help out. I protect the camp.”

“By takin’ shoots even when you can’t see what you’re shootin’ at. I know.” Mitzi clapped sarcastically. “Good job you.”

“I was trying to help. I thought he was a walker.”

“You failed, you missed. Thank whatever god applies for that because Shane and Rick wouldn’t ‘be been able to stop me.” She huffed. “Even if he had been, he would’ve been a single walker. It would’ve been better to use a knife or machete. You don’t know who or what could’ve heard that shot.”

“If Daryl had been a walker-“

“Glenn, Shane, and Rick were already on their way out.” Mitzi gestured at the RV. “You put the group in danger by firing that shot, even if he had been a walker.”

Andrea rolled her eyes. “I disagree. I handled what I thought needed to be handled.”

“Why can’t you take accountability?” Mitzi threw her hands in the air. “Not only did you fuckin’ miss, so you didn’t handle nuthin’, you also took a wholly unnecessary shot that you couldn’t spot properly. This is why I don’t trust you with a gun in camp. You don’t respect the power, the danger that comes with a weapon like that. You just want to do the easy thing.”

Andrea pulled back, like she had been hit. “This isn’t about the CDC.”

“I didn’t say it was.” Mitzi stared her in eye. “You consistently avoid tasks that you don’t want to do or have decided are beneath you. You don’t want to get your hands dirty. You want all the benefits but none of the costs.”

Andrea looked confused. “What cost?”

“The training, killing walkers in a safe way, the hard way, the day-to-day tasks of living, scavenging, hunting, the laundry, the cooking.” Mitzi said. “You want to sit on high and let the grunts do it for you.”

“That’s bullshit.” Andrea rolled her eyes. “Why is it the women do all the cooking and cleaning? Why is it that the men sit and do the watch?”

“They don’t. Glenn consistently risks his life scavenging or being fed to a walker in a well.” She shot her a hard look. “T-Dog does whatever needs to be done, he scavenges, siphons fuel, he cooks. If you pulled your head outta your ass, you’d see that.”

She gaped at Mitzi, who rolled her eyes. “We all do what we can. Not everyone in this group is equipped the same way.”

Recovering quickly, Andrea squared her shoulders. “By that logic: I know how to use a gun, therefore I should help in defense.”

“The minute we can do some training on gun safety, the minute I have materials for suppressors, I am all for making sure everyone can use a gun competently, for arming everyone. However, until such a time as that, untrained people with guns are clearly dangerous. Case in point.” She gestured at Andrea.

Andrea chewed on the inside of her cheek. “So you’re the exception.”

“Excuse me?”

“They respect you, they don’t talk down to you or ask you to do laundry-“

“You gonna make me explain it again?” Mitzi stared at her. “I do laundry. Mine and Daryl’s.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I’m not some uppity bitch that’s too good to wash my own clothes.”

“And Daryl’s?” Andrea ignored the jibe and looked like she had discovered some dirt. “Why do you do his laundry?”

“Because I’m fuckin’ him on the reg and while he’s just as attractive in dirty clothes, clean clothes sure are nice.”

Andrea had obviously not expected her to be so blunt. “So he makes-“

“He doesn’t make me do anythin’. He is not focused on what he wears, he doesn’t give a shit if his shirt is clean. I’m going to do my laundry anyways, because again, I ain’t too good for chores, so I might as well do his, too.”

“You don’t cook.”

Mitzi snorted. “And no one wants me to, I assure you. I lived off of McDonald’s and MREs.”

“So you do it all, Mitzi.” Andrea gestured at the camp. “You keep us safe, you hunt and clean, but god forbid any of us want to do something more important-“

“I swear to god, there’s bees in your brain.” Mitzi point at her temple, exasperated. “There is no task that is more important than any other task. Everything is vital and everyone is vital no matter what they are skilled at.”

“Can’t keep surviving, if we get eaten by walkers.”

Mitzi gestured, sarcastically. “Can’t get eaten by walkers if we starve to death.”

“If everything is just as important, why can’t I do what I want to? Why can’t I help with the defense of the camp?”

“Because you don’t know how to handle yourself with a gun, as evidenced by today and by this conversation.” Mitzi threw her hands in the air. “But then, you apparently know best, despite the fact that you’ve only been usin’ a gun for two months, so who am I to say?”

“How long is gun training in the Army? Can’t imagine you’ve been using guns that long.” Andrea looked smug.

Mitzi gaped at her. “You are catastrophic levels of stupid. Ima explain it one last time. Listen good. First of all, I’m a sniper, so that is an abysmally dumb assertion. Secondly, I was active duty for over ten years before all this happened- meaning, in case you didn’t catch it: I used a high-powered sniper rifle routinely for ten years. Lastly, I have been competitively shooting since I was ten.

“So yeah, my twenty plus years trumps your 60-something days. I am easily the most experienced gunman here. Easily. More so than Shane and Rick combined. So this idea that you are entitled to carrying a weapon and only taking guard shifts, based solely on your ownership and ‘experience’ with a gun, is imbecilic.”

Mitzi turned away again, dismissing her. “If I need any information on the penal code, I’ll call you up, though. Don’t worry, Andrea, you’re still an expert in something… I guess.”

Andrea reached for her arm. Mitzi shook her head and put space between them. “I want to learn, I am willing to learn, but I don’t understand why you are so against me being armed.”

Mitzi shook her head. “I thought you were ready to listen. Until you are trained, I don’t feel comfortable with you havin’ a gun. When you are, feel free to take a watch shift, but even then, that’s not all you can, or should, help with. Carol and Lori aren’t your maids.”

“I never said they were-” Andrea held up her hand to stop Mitzi from interjecting.

It didn’t stop Mitzi. “But you act like they are.”

“Well, what do you want me to do?”

“Use your goddamn brain and get your hands dirty.” Mitzi gestured at the camp. “Do what needs to be done. Not just what you want to do. Take some goddamn accountability for how you’ve been actin’.”

**

“Uh… guys. So… the barn’s full of walkers.”

Mitzi raised another forkful of eggs to her mouth. She chewed and swallowed and what had just came out of Glenn’s mouth still didn’t make sense.

“What?”

She looked at Daryl, who looked at her. She looked at Rick, who looked at Glenn.

The silence dragged on and then suddenly the rubber band snapped. Everyone seemed to shove to their feet at the same time, panic and fury setting their feet into motion.

Mitzi wasn’t the first to the barn, by virtue of her shorter legs, but she outstripped most of the group.

She circled the barn, knife in hand, looking for any hole big enough for a walker to escape through.

When she returned to the front, the rest of the group anxiously watching Shane stare into the crack in the door, Rick turned to her. “Anything?”

She shook her head. “It’s sealed up pretty tight.”

Shane pulled away from the door. “For now.”

“For now.” She parroted, squatting in front of the doors. She felt Daryl walk up behind her and leaned against his leg.

Shane scoffed and stalked at Rick. “You can not tell me you’re alright with this.”

Rick matched his aggression. “No, I’m not. But we’re guests here. This isn’t our land.”

“This is our lives, man!”

Glenn raised his hands, warning. “Lower your voice.”

Andrea joined the fray. “We can’t just sweep this under the rug.”

T-Dog shook his head, hands on hips. “It ain’t right. Not remotely.”

Shane had started pacing. “Okay. We have either got to go in there. We got to make this right or we’ve just got to go. Now we’ve been talking about Fort Benning for a long-“

“Fort Benning is a pipe dream, Walsh. There is very little possibility that it is operational. And if it is, the only way that’s possible is if they are turning away civilians.”

“You don’t know that, Donovan.”

Mitzi rolled her eyes. “I know it’s real comforting to think that the military is there to protect you but,” She stood, dusting her hands off. “It ain’t. It’s there to maintain the power and authority of the US government. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“That what you tell yourself? Justify you deserting?”

“Shut up, Walsh.”

“You too mucha coward to take a legitimate chance.”

She pegged him with a hard stare. Daryl hooked his hand around her elbow. “It ain’t a legitimate chance, Walsh. You have no proof that it is still operational.”

“And you have no proof it ain’t.”

“No, Shane.” She pointed at her chest, stalking toward him. “I have experience which is somethin’ you don’t have. I have been to Fort Benning, I trained at Fort Benning. If it is overrun, is a death trap. If it is operational, it will not offer the safety or help we need and we will have wasted a hundred miles of fuel.”

He turned to the group. “This deserter-“

Daryl tried to keep her behind him. He turned to Shane. “Watch what you say.”

Shane sucked on his teeth. “Fuck off, man. Just cause you fuck her don’t mean you gotta put up-“

Lori looked aghast. “Shane!”

“Th’fuck ya say?” Daryl stepped forward, Mitzi fisting a hand in his shirt.

“I said just ‘cause she sucked y’off, don’t mean you have-“

Rick stepped in. “Shane, enough!”

Shane rounded on Rick. “She is a coward, man. She deserted and doesn’t wanna go back. That’s why-“

“Last chance, Walsh. Say it again.” She sucked in a deep breath. “I ain’t playing with you today. Watch y’mouth.”

“Or what?” He grinned when she turned to glare at him.

Daryl blocked her way, arm across her chest, as she pushed aggressively against it. “I’ll knock all your teeth out so you can watch it better.”

Shane opened his arms wide. “Bring it, bitch. You ain’t gonna do nothing. Nothing but a cowar-”

She was on him before anyone could react.

Shane lifted a hand, to block her, hold her off, she didn’t care, she batted his much larger hand out of the way, popping him in the face with her south paw.

He swung. Dodging, she delivered two heavy blows to his solar plexus. As he tried to shift away, doubled over, holding his side, she kneed him in the face, before sweeping his legs out from under him.

“Mitzi!”

She felt hands on her shoulder and shook them off, kneeling on his chest to bring her fist down on him hard. Once, Twice.

Shane grunted, vaulting to his feet and slamming her down on the ground.

“Shane!”

She could see the others crowding around, trying to pull him off of her. She ignored them.

She slapped her hands over his ears and elbowed him across the jaw when he reared back.

Two more quick jabs to his face and she pulled him into her, wrapping a leg around the back of his neck and hooking her foot under her other leg.

She squeezed.

She snarled. “Stupid fuckin’ prick. I told you not to fuck with me.” As his eyes became unfocused, she released him and kicked him away.

He fell back, shaking his head, blood coloring his face from a cut over his eye.

All at once she became aware of the cacophony of noise.

“Daryl, get her off of him!” Rick hollered. She could hear crying, more shouting.

Daryl’s hand came into view and she took it, letting him pull her to her feet. He prodded at the back of her head and came away bloody. “Shit.”

She brushed off his hand, now armed with his bandana. “M’fine.”

“Keep your bitch in line, Dixon.” Shane shoved to his feet, wiping at his split lip.

“Why? You couldn’t handle me even if, little boy.”

Shane stepped aggressively toward her.

“Shane! That is enough.” Rick growled, pushing him back. “Mitzi! Stop it.”

Daryl put pressure on her head wound as Shane and Rick argued.

“We ain’t going to Fort Benning. Mitzi’s likely right. She makes bad choices,” Rick pegged her with a hard look. “But she knows more about the military and Fort Benning than any of us. The chance that it is operational is low.”

“You’re gonna take this rabid-ass, hick-bitch’s word over mine?”

“A hick-bitch that just beat your dumbass.” She lurched at him again and he stepped back. She grinned. “You scared? You oughta keep my name outta your mouth or Rick won’t save ya next time.”

Rick pointed at her. “Stop it.”

“Why, Rick?” Shane pressed towards Rick. “Why not Fort Benning?”

Carol steeled her shoulders. “Because my daughter’s still out there.”

Shane let out a frustrated, patronizing laugh. “Okay… okay, I think it’s time that we all start to just consider the other possibility.”

“Shane!” Rick looked even more disappointed in Shane. “We are not leaving Sophia behind.”

“I’m close to finding this girl.” Daryl insisted, lifting Mitzi’s hand to hold the bandana to her head. “I just found her damn doll two days ago.”

Shane all but rolled his eyes. “You found her doll, Daryl. That’s what you did, you found a doll.”

Daryl stalked toward Shane and threw his hand out in a frustrated wave. “Man, you don’t know what t’hell yer talkin’ ‘bout.”

Shane stepped back, glancing at Mitzi as she took a step forward after Daryl. “Look, I’m just saying what needs to be said. You get a good lead, it’s in the first 48-hours.”

Rick pushed him away. “Shane, stop.”

Shane turned back to Daryl. “Let me tell you something else, man. If she was alive out there and saw you coming, all methed-out, with your buck knife and geek ears around your neck, she would run in the other direction, man.”

Daryl lunged at him, Rick getting in the middle as chaos erupted again.

She made to join the fray but Glenn stepped in front of her, albeit nervously. She moved to step around him and Glenn caged her in.

“I don’t wanna hurt you, Glenn.”

He grinned sheepishly. “I don’t want you to hurt me either, so don’t.”

She stepped around him and made it to Daryl’s side as Rick separated them. He glanced down at her and moved so she was behind him.

“Let me just talk to Hershel. Let me figure it out.”

Shane scoffed, shouting back at Rick. “What are you gonna figure out?”

“If we’re gonna stay, if we’re gonna clear this barn, I have to talk him into it. This is his land.”

Dale stepped in. “Hershel sees those things in there as people, sick people. His wife, his stepson.“

Rick sounded frustrated as he turned to Dale. “You knew?”

Dale nodded. “Yesterday, I talked to Hershel.”

Shane advanced on Dale. “You waited the night?”

“I thought we could survive one more night. We did.” Dale stared Shane down. “I was waiting until this morning to say something but Glenn wanted to be the one.”

“The man is crazy, Rick. If Hershel thinks those things are alive-“

Rick pushed Shane back again. “Enough!”

The commotion aggravated the walkers, who shook the doors and snarled, forcing a number of the group members to fall back.

**

She had planted her ass in a chair the minute it was over, face blank.

“You just don’t care, d’ya?”

She glanced at him. “Of course I care.”

Daryl scoffed. “Don’t seem like it.”

“How should I show that I care, D?” She huddled deeper into her camp chair. “What do you need to see? Cryin’, weepin’? All the walkers are dead, so I can’t go beat up on them.”

He snarled and began pacing.

“There’s not much to do about any of that now that will do any good. So if it’s any difference to you, I’m gonna try not to think.”

He kicked a camp chair clear across camp. “Maybe Shane’s right…”

She picked at her nails. “About what? Gunning down people in front of their family members?”

Daryl spat to the side, before glancing at her. “Maybe you are just a coward-“

She recoiled like he had hit her. “Fuck you, Dixon.”

“You didn’t even pick up a gun. Just sat and watched.”

“I had the pistol Shane tried to give Carl. There were already enough people firin’.”

He huffed. “What is it then? You wanna stay here? Even though it ain’t safe?”

She shook her head. “I never said that. I don’t give a fuck about this farm. I do think we need somethin’ more permanent, more protective than a tent camp, but I don’t feel particularly easy here either,” she shrugged. “I don’t wanna go to Fort Benning because it’s a waste of time.”

“But what if it is still runnin’?”

She sighed. “Best case scenario: say it is. Say they take us in. I will be right back in the field. Right back under the thumb of the government. Battle, killin’ walkers isn’t the concern. It’s being cannon fodder for the government.”

He shook his head. “You were an officer- a captain.”

She smiled softly at him. “Baby, I know you think that means somethin’, that I’m valued or important to the government, but it really doesn’t. I am a weapon, that is all. A weapon with a cunt, what’s worse. They do not give a fuck about me.”

He scoffed and paced away, angrily pulling up the stakes to their tent and packing up their shit.

When it was all done, he turned back to her. Quiet and intense.

He set his hands on his hips, worrying his lip between his teeth. He grunted and kicked a pile of logs over. “Sumova bitch!”

She watched quietly as he paced. He glanced at her, caught her eyes, and stopped. “Sophia-“ He stopped and sucked in a breath. “I looked for that little girl for days.”

She nodded.

“And y’thought she was dead.” His tone was accusatory and she winced.

“I wanted her t’be alive.” She gestured at the barn. “I was gonna keep lookin’ until we found out for sure. But, baby… she ain’t you. You could survive out in the woods for a week at her age. I wasn’t sure she could.”

He snarled. “Y’didn’t say anythin’ t’me. You just let-“ He turned away from her.

She sucked in a breath. “I didn’t- I didn’t know anythin’ for sure-“

“Y’still coulda told me! Trusted me ‘nough.” He threw his hands in the air. “I’m not some dumb fuck who wouldn’t ‘ve listened. ‘Stead y’let me-“ He huffed in frustration.

Her mouth opened and then closed.

He trailed off. “Lemme assume you’re on m’side.”

“I am on your side.” He scoffed and turned away. She stood, approaching him. “I thought what you were doing was right, that’s why I was doing it with you. I’m sorry th-“

“Everyone in that camp thinks I’m fuckin’ stupid!” He gestured at the camp. “Thinks I’m some grunt-work hick. Rick’s goddamn errand boy.”

“That’s because they’re assholes.” She reached for his shoulder. He shook her off. “I know that you’re intelligent and fuckin’ sharp as a tack. I know that you are the most capable person here. They know you’re the most capable person here. They know that you can do what they ask you to do. Whether they have a right to ask is a different story.”

He sucked on his teeth. “They think you’re just some fuckin’ hired gun… some fuckin’ some grunt on a tower.”

She sighed and set her cheek against his shoulder blade. She shrugged. “Point and Shoot.”

He shook his head, turning to look out over the house and camp. “You’re more than tha’.”

She smiled and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “You are too. They’ll see it.”

“Sometimes I don’t wanna wait.” He turned over his shoulder, looking down at the top of her head. “Jus’ leave, you ‘n me.”

She nodded. “Me too, but there is something about having a job, a purpose, a group that has been helpful… processin’ all this.”

“Better numbers.”

“Not just better numbers, shared experience.”

He sighed. “This group is broken.”

She shook her head against his shoulder. “Not yet. What happens in the next couple of days may make it so.”

He hummed in agreement.

She turned him to face her and set her hands on his shoulders. “I am on your side. I’m sorry. I didn’t want t’say anything that I didn’t know for sure. Break Carol’s heart, break your heart. I didn’t want t’be right. But I should’ve talked t’you, should’ve trusted you t’hear me.”

He was silent for a moment and nodded. “I’m still fuckin’ pissed… necessarily at ya but-” He gestured vaguely.

She leaned up to press her forehead to his. “You have every right t’be pissed. Yesterday was horrible, it fuckin’ sucked the life outta all’a us.”

Daryl deflated and she flattened herself to him. “Why did’ya pack everythin’ up?”

“I’m movin’ our shit, further from the house.” Daryl pressed his face into her hair. “Tired of bein’ their errand boy.”

**

“Mitzi.”

She turned to see Rick striding toward where she sat cleaning guns. “Yeah?”

Rick jerked his head away from the camp and she stood, frowning at him as she set the pistol she had been cleaning in the chair. She turned over her shoulder and locked eyes with Daryl, following.

Rick was pensive, silent as he led her around the house toward the barn. When he was satisfied with how far away they were, he started pacing.

She crossed her eyes over her chest. “Look I’m sorry I beat the shit outta your friend.”

Rick pinch the bridge of his nose. “No, you’re not.”

She grinned and rubbed her thumb over her busted knuckles. “No, I’m not. He fuckin’ deserved it.”

Rick nodded vaguely. “He has been testin’ fate with you since Atlanta.”

“So if you’re not plannin’ on reamin’ me for Walsh, what is it you want?”

Rick sucked in air. “I needed to ask you somethin’.”

She huffed. “Just say it. It can’t be-“

“We need information outta Randall. The size of his group. What they are like…”

He was met with Mitzi’s uncharacteristic silence.

“I need to know. If I kill this kid… I need to know that I’m makin’ the right decision.”

She frowned hard. “You need him interrogated? You’re a cop- go interrogate him. What are you askin’ me for?”

“I can’t get anythin’ outta him except for the same bullshit.” Rick scuffed his foot in the dirt. “He won’t speak at all to Shane.”

He looked over her shoulder. The touch on her waist told her Daryl had followed.

She forced out a long breath. “Why do you think I’ll fare any better? I’m a sniper not psych ops.”

Rick winced. “You’re a woman… maybe he’ll let his guard down.”

She stiffened. “Excuse the fuck outta me, but what? You want me to what?”

He sighed and leaned over to get closer to eye-to-eye with her. “You are a capable soldier, an excellent judge of character. See what you can get outta him-“

“So what, flash him my tits, give him a handy-“

Rick blushed, saying emphatically: “No.”

Daryl shifted behind her, rasping, “Then what are y’askin’, Rick?”

“I wasn’t asking for that kind of handy.” Rick caught her eyes and held them. “You are… exceptionally skilled at causing’ pain. If it’s necessary…”

“You want me to beat the shit outta him.”

He nodded. “I appreciate that what I’m askin’ for is unsavory, but we need information and you absolutely have the right to say no, but-“

“I’ll do it.” Daryl squeezed her hip. She turned to him and he nodded. “I’ll do it.”

Rick nodded. “Alright.”

She shook her head. “D-“

“Ain’t bouta let my woman go in there by herself.” Daryl sucked his teeth. “Kinda pissed you asked her at’all, Rick.”

Rick nodded. “Kinda think your woman could handle herself. Proved it today.”

“Just ‘cause she can, don’t mean she should. She’s not some hit man.”

She shook her head. “Stop talking ‘bout me like I’m not right here. Let’s think this over some more.”

Daryl shook his head. “We need’ta know right?”

Rick nodded.

Mitzi bit her lip. “I’ll go with you.” Daryl sighed, about to argue. Mitzi shook her head and made toward the shed. “Ain’t bouta let my man go in there by himself. Let’s get this over with.”

Daryl looked at Rick who looked back.

Rick made a face. “She’s your woman… said so yourself.”

Daryl nodded. Rick reached over to squeeze his shoulder. “Picked a helluva one.”

“D! We fuckin’ doin’ this or not?”

**

Daryl tapped her ass lightly. “Sit.”

She shook her head, leaning back against the little curio cabinet he was leaning against. He hummed, pressing closer to her.

Glenn sighed, twisting his hat in his hands. “So how do we do this? Take a vote?”

Andrea shifted. “Does it have to be unanimous?”

Lori supplied, “How about majority rules?”

Rick stepped forward. “Well, let’s just see where everyone stands. Then we can talk through the options.”

“Well, where I sit,” Shane leaned back against the mantle. “There’s only one way to move forward.”

“Killing him?” Dale interjected. “Right? I mean why even bother taking a vote? It’s clear which way the wind is blowing.”

“We’ll, if people believe we should spare him,” Rick leaned over the back of the couch in front of him. “I wanna know.”

“Well, I can tell you it’s a small group. Maybe just me and Glenn.”

Glenn flinched away from the disappointment in his eyes. “Look… I think you’re pretty much right about everything, all the time, but this-“

“They’ve got you scared!”

“He’s not one of us.” Glenn sighed. “And we’ve lost too many people already.”

Dale turned to Maggie, motioning with his hat. “How about you? Do you agree with this?”

Maggie shifted, uncomfortable, looking at Daryl. “Couldn’t we continue keeping him prisoner?”

Daryl shifted. “Just another mouth to feed.”

“It may be a lean winter.” Hershel added.

“We could ration better.”

Dale seized on Lori’s comment. “Well, he could be an asset. Give him a chance to prove himself.”

“Prove what?” She pressed back against Daryl. “That he isn’t like his psycho friends? How do you prove somethin’ like that?”

Glenn gestured vaguely. “Put him to work.”

Rick shook his head. “We’re not letting him walk around.”

Maggie nodded. “We could put an escort on him.”

Shane scoffed. “Who wants to volunteer for that duty?”

Dale stepped forward. “I will.”

Rick held up a hand. “I don’t think any of us should be walking around with this guy.”

“He’s right.” Lori sighed. “I wouldn’t feel safe unless he was tied up.”

Andrea addressed Dale. “We can’t exactly put chains around his ankles and sentence him to hard labor.”

“Look…” Shane sighed. “Say we let him join us, right? Maybe he’s helpful, maybe he’s nice. We let our guard down and maybe he runs off, brings back his thirty men.”

Dale’s voice broke. “So the answer is to kill him to prevent a crime he may never even attempt? If we do this, we are saying there’s no hope. Rule of law is dead, there is no civilization.”

“He sat and watched two teenaged girls getting raped in front of their father. Even if he didn’t join in…” Mitzi met Dale’s eyes. “Nice people- civilized people don’t do that. If you need a crime to feel better ‘bout this, there ya go.”

Dale scoffed. “You hear that before or after you tortured him?”

Mitzi sighed. “During. And I don’t think he was lying. Except maybe about his lack of participation.”

“You don’t know that!” Dale’s voice was getting louder. “People will say anything when under duress.”

“They’ll say anything to get out of duress, sure. How does confessing to bein’ into little girls help him, Dale?”

“Could you drive him further out?” Hershel looked at Rick. “Leave him like you planned?”

Lori shook her head. “You barely came back this time. There are walkers, you could break down, y-you could get lost.”

“Or get ambushed,” Daryl added.

Glenn leaned over his lap on his elbows. “They’re right. We should not put our own people at risk.”

Patricia worried her hands in front of her. “If you go through with it, how would you do it? Would he suffer?”

Rick looked at Shane. “We could hang him, right? Just snap his neck?”

Rick shook his head. “I thought about that. Shooting may be more humane.”

T-Dog shifted forward. “And what about the body? Do we bury him?”

Dale held his hands up. “Hold on! Hold on! You’re talking about this like it’s already decided.”

Daryl made a circular motion over her shoulder. “We’ve been talkin’ all day, goin’ ‘round in circles. You just wanna go ‘round in circles again?”

Mitzi shrugged. “No amount of lipstick on this pig is gonna make it prettier. Might as well sack up and handle it.”

Dale was visibly distressed. “This is a young man’s life and it is worth more than a five minute conversation. Is this what it’s come to? We kill someone because we can’t decide what else to do with him? You saved him!” He gestured at Rick. “Now look at us. He’s been tortured. He’s gonna be executed. How are we any better than those people that we’re so afraid of?”

Shane softened his tone. “We all know what needs to be done.”

“No, Dale is right. We can’t leave any stone unturned here. We have a responsibility-“

Andrea stepped forward. “So what’s the other solution? We haven’t come up with a single viable option, yet.”

“So let’s work on it!” Dale pleaded.

“We are!”

“Stop it.” Carol interjected. “Just stop It. I'm sick of everybody arguing and fighting. I didn’t ask for this. You can’t ask us to decide something like this. Please decide- either of you, both of you but leave me out.”

Dale shook his head. “Not speaking out, killing him yourself, there is no difference.”

Rick stepped between them. “Alright, that’s enough. Anybody wants the floor before we make a final decision has the chance.”

**

Hershel whispered. “I don’t know how much longer we can stay here.”

Carl stayed between them, blue eyes turned up at his dad. “I'm not leaving without Mom.”

Rick kept his voice low as she watched the walker that just passed them through her scope. “So we just walk away? Not knowing if my wife, your girls are still out there? How do we live with that?”

Hershel shook his head, looking down at Carl. “You’ve only got one concern now, just one, keeping him alive. Nature may be throwing us a curveball, but that law is still true.”

Mitzi sucked her teeth. “I ain’t leaving’ without knowin’ one way or another. I’ll go back to the farm and check every goddamn walker if I have to. None of our people are gonna be left like that.”

“Mitzi,” Rick shook his head. “That’s not an option.”

“Then I guess we’re waitin’ then.” She checked her magazine and reinserted it into her M110.

Rick was breathing heavily and knelt in front of Carl. “Carl, it’s not safe here. I’m sorry.”

Mitzi bit her lip, fighting not to scream every cuss word she knew by and attract every walker in the area. “You all leave. I ain’t leavin’ until I’m sure. Not gonna potentially leave Daryl wanderin’ the Georgia countryside like that.”

Rick reached for her shoulder and Carl pressed his face into Rick’s sternum. “Mitzi, you can’t-“

He paused and they both turned to look down the Highway.

“Holy fuckin’ shit.” She smiled widely as Daryl guided his bike over the median, Carol behind him, followed by the truck and an SUV.

She waited patiently for Daryl to swing his leg over the bike before passing her rifle off to Carol.

Daryl reached over and pulled her into his chest.

“Fuck, Spitfire, I thought you died.” He buried his face in her hair. “One minute you were standin’ on the RV, the next you were gone.”

She clutched at his vest, tangling her fingers in the laces at his side. “Last I saw, you were shouting from the hog, like it was fuckin’ Tombstone. Scared the shit outta me.”

Part 4

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x oc #daryl dixon x reader #twd daryl #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl

[bleedingichorhearts]

𝕰𝖝𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: Had this one stored on a different app. Been on my mind quite a few times.

TW // Violence, gore?

Usually going through old, abandoned bases was no problem to go through. Yet, it was unusual for a horde of demons to be here. There was nothing here for the demons. At least, not anymore, I think.

Maybe they wanted a new summoning ground? If they did, it was better to move on than trying to fight through it. I wasn’t stupid enough to waste perishable bullets on resummonings. I needed them for defense more than offense purposes.

Besides, if there was too much demons, there were other base’s to raid through. Maybe a little farther out, but it will do.

Hence, my slight hesitation continuing on through the base. Putting silenced bullets through the common Imp’s, and random zombified soldiers. Their bodies dropping to the group with a thud, or squelch. Making me slightly grimace at the unholy sound.

Continuing on, slowly cutting down the numbers body, by body. Screeching of metal, and roars reached my ears as I began to question being here. I know I needed to restock on some supplies, but did I really need to restock? Was this base really worth it? To really look through?

In some way it was, I liked being stocked, and ready for anything. Ready to make a six hour journey to some undecided location, always on the move. Yet my willpower could be overpowering sometimes, telling me that I could find some wares elsewhere. Much to my undeciding regret.

If it gets to be too much, I’ll leave. I decided.

It did.

It’s got to be too much.

Clearing room after room with hordes of demons, there stood a tall humanoid being in the center of it all. Their armor, drenched in the blood, and guts of demons. A hand around a kneeling Hell Knights neck.

An sickening crack sounded out all around the area. The blood, drenched figure rising up, and down in what seemed to be anger, perhaps exhaustion? Though, with the brute size, and even strength of the being. I highly doubt that.

Getting spooked when they snapped their head in my direction. I quickly raised my rifle up at them in defense. Unsure of their motives. I mean, they just killed a Hell Knight by just snapping its neck, who knows what else this… being could do?

Probably throw you through multiple walls with that shown strength. Oh, that thought mentally hurt.

The being just stood there heaving while I exhaled through my nose slowly as if they were some sort of apex predator that would hunt me down if I so much as breathed. This being screamed danger. Yet nothing, no-one made a move. Were they waiting on me to make the first move? Or were they simply looking for some weak spots? Maybe both?

Feeling the ground shaking beneath my boots. I quickly glanced at my surroundings, my gun still trained on the mysterious being. I saw a blur of another demon charging into the area, heading for the being drenched in their partners gore.

Quickly taking my chance of the unsuspecting distraction. I took a different route through the base. Wasting no time in getting what I needed before heading back out. I was already this far in, why back out now?

Zig zagging through the corridors, taking down some small demons on my way, and occasionally spotting little bits of ammo. I took them quickly and shoved them down in my backpack. Keeping my senses alert for the bigger enemy’s. I needed to get out quickly, who knows what kind of magnet that armored being was?

Pulling the backpack over my shoulder again. I shot some rushing imps in the head with my sidearm. My eyes quickly shooting around the area to plan my escape before rising up from my knees again.

Damn! I hope this armored being won’t follow me around like that other one.

𝕰𝖝𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗 II

#doom #doom slayer #doomguy #fanfic #fanfiction #one shot? #? #doom slayer x reader #x reader

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

(GFL) M4A1, ST AR-15, M4 SOPMOD II, M16A1, and WA2000's S/O using a rocket launcher

M4 doesn't use explosives often, given the Anti-Rain team were typically assigned stealth missions.

So when she sees her S/O fire a rocket into an enemy squad, she can't help but be a little surprised.

(M4A1) "Where in the world were you hiding that?!"

She swears she didn't even see them equip one during the sortie. But nothing to be done about it now.

(M4A1) "Well, the support is appreciated...I think?"

She tries her best to make them use restraint since firing rockets left and right could escalate enemy forces.

STAR's eyes go wide once she hears the familiar yet terrifying sound of a rocket flying off and hitting its mark.

Thankfully, it came from her direction instead of towards her.

When STAR turned around, she realized it was her S/O who had just fired the rocket launcher.

(ST AR-15) "What in the- why did you waste a rocket on a squad that small?!"

She can't help but be angry at the waste of such a valuable asset.

Until realizing they were carrying even more.

(ST AR-15) "Tch, just don't get trigger happy with it. Come on."

STAR is mildly annoyed, but she can't deny that having that kind of firepower backing the squad up is appreciated.

SOPMOD laughs as she sees the explosion, giving a very enthusiasitic nod to S/O.

(SOPMOD) "WOAH! You brought that and didn't tell me?!"

She very much wants to use it, and keeps hounding S/O to let her have a turn firing the rocket launcher.

The only problem she has with it is that S/O didn't bring enough for her, which makes her pout.

(SOPMOD) "Next time, I get a turn, got it?!"

M1 chuckles once the smoke settles, raising an eyebrow.

(M16A1) "Guess subtlety just went out the window, huh?"

Part of her is jealous and impressed. Jealous she can't use it, impressed that S/O can lug that thing around, including all it's ammo like it was nothing.

She was a literal weapon designed for war, and even she can't carry that many.

(M16A1) "Just warn us for the backblast before going all out will ya?"

WA had her sights on the drone's squad leader.

Until a rocket whizzed from her direction and reduced the enemies to rubble.

She turned to the source, and found her S/O standing near a puff of smoke and a rocket launcher.

(WA2000) "What the hell, are you trying to blow my cover?!"

She is ABSOLUTELY LIVID

Here she was trying to do her job as a sniper, and here comes S/O blowing everything up like a grenade happy dummkopf!

WA is going to chew her S/O out the moment they get back to base and make them sleep on the couch.

She didn't need to sleep, but she sure as hell wasn't going to let S/O after this stunt.

#girls' frontline imagines #girls' frontline x reader #girls' frontline headcanons #m4a1 x reader #st ar 15 x reader #m4 sopmod ii x reader #m16a1 x reader #wa2000 x reader #m4a1 gfl #st ar 15 gfl #m4 sopmod ii gfl #m16a1 gfl #wa2000 gfl

[sergeantnarwhalwrites]

Final Fuck You to my Undergrad Uni

I personally think it's more like a monologue. But here it goes. A bit of a long piece of explicit writing about my 4 years at this shit hole. Glad to be done here ✌🏾. Grad pic beneath the cut

Tag list (normal poetry peeps and people I saw like the og post): @nanashi23 @winterandwords @vacantgodling @the-void-writes @weirdgirlcroix

Imma have to start this off with the fattest fuck you 

Fuck the campus 

Fuck the board of trustees 

Fuck the professors that should've been denied their doctorate degrees

And fuck you 

For thinking I'd respond kindly to all the times you've fucked me over

I wonder how many times I can curse 

Before you flag parental advisory 

To a campus full of fucking adults 

And those underage kids you drag in wasting potential 

On these hills that make me wanna eat ammo 

And chomp on gun barrels till my gums bleed 

And I get a few more cracks in my back teeth

I wonder how much money I've blown 

On liquor bottles that suck at deluding 

And beer cases that take their sweet fucking time 

In numbing my mental anguish 

Shits got those razor nails that can gouge 

And maybe I'd enjoy the sting 

If the bitch wasn't clawing out my eyes

Then stabbing straight through my stomach 

Twirling my intestines like spaghetti dinner 

With my blood gushing out onto the only carpeted floor in the fucking building 

Wouldn't be the first time this place tried to bleed a nigga dry. 

And my account's touched the negative for vending machine sodas and Monster energy drinks 

But at least they make damn good microphones

Cause I've gotten a little to used to putting on shows

Even if the alcohol, caffiene, and paranoid fuckery 

Warped my heartbeat

And it beats to the tune of decorating my fridge with knuckle imprints

Cause why the fuck would I spend money I don't have on a pretty decoration

And it even beats to climbing through windows for projects that root so deep the only thoughts I think are on the time that ticks by

And hunch a little more into myself as our equivalent of Walmart security roams the lit halls

And the clacking of their keys reminds me that I've imprisoned me

And sometimes my heartbeat matches my fists hitting my desk drawer 

Till the shit up top falls 

And the pencils are the only thing raining 

Cause I already spent all my money by just fucking living

And my heart tries not to beat through my chest 

When my family asking for funds that ain't ever exist

The fattest fuck you goes to 

This hell hole 

Where the flames are white hot with white people

Who love to toss shit into the flames 

And their alabaster babies 

Who ain't ever seen a black kid 

Say the world's most insensitive shit

And act suprised when their "ocean eyes" give reptilian beast instead

And I'd rather drown myself in the lab sink 

Chew on the bacteria loaded chunks along the way

Than pretend they're as gorgeous as this bitch ass campus.

I'd love to say thank you 

Hell I'd even say I'd love you 

It's a lie real easy to slip off the tongue as of late 

And maybe it's the brain damage of back to back all nighters

Or being dragged into unconsciousness on tables and radiators

Could even be the liquor that don't even taste the same 

And sometimes I still toss the cap and drink straight from the bottle

Drink that shit like the holy water I've never dared to bathe in

And I'm sure to keep my head back

Even if the shit tastes like failure and fear 

Then again when does a half assed attempt taste better than a solid victory

So I make sure I don't spill

And I'll beat it into the ground 

A STEM major is a wicked thing 

I lost two family members and couldn't even leave 

You suffer in every nook on campus just to come back home and asphyxiate in your at home lair

And I ain't one for wailing to fabrications 

In books translated beyond their original truths 

But God 

Thank fucking God 

I am done...

Wasn't so sure I'd live to see the end

And for that I'd drink again

And I'd find a use for all those middle fingers about to spawn

But for now I'll spare the vulgaruity

Cause my mouth real good at not being pretty

#writeblr #random writes #Undergrad degree accomplished #I personally don't think it's that bad but you know #poetry #sorta

[shuttershocky]

i used to be kinda indifferent about ch’en alter and all the drama around her. but after maxing out aosta and using pinecone in some is2 runs i am now realizing that her existence is probably gonna delay spreadshooter modules for a long long time. which uhh fucking sucks

Enemies having evasion was her fault too btw lol. Havent you wondered why the Nethersea Predators had evasion disabled by status effects (which Ch'en doesn't have), or Durin having 100% specifically PHYSICAL evasion, or Andoain putting up evasion FIELDS in the shape of a cross (so its wide along a line like Ch'en Alter's S3) that you had to make him leave first before you hit him, or Degenbrecher casting a disarm on enemies around her after taking enough damage, with the last two specifically being countered by regular Ch'en's S3 while Ch'en Alter gets screwed over? Invitation to Wine even had spawning trash that took number of hits to kill rather than HP, forcing Ch'en S3 to waste ammo.

We have been playing the anti-Chen game the way last year was the anti-Surtr game. They are HG's biggest mistakes that they can't just directly nerf because gacha game, forcing them to design stages and boss fights around them.

And amazingly, neither of them have still done as much damage to the game as Eyjafjalla did on launch and still does to almost the entire caster class now lol

#arknights