#babbling.brook.writing

[stigandr-the-cat]

Butcher and the Beauty

summary : you a sweet assistant for Agent Laswell with the assigned integration partner of Ghost. The reader is gender, race-neutral, and described as being fat. Ghost wants to die by the thigh. Ghost is also a bit of a freak.

TW : MDNI, no smut but graphic violence is alluded to with some on page. No use of Y/N. The reader does want to have their nails painted. 2nd person POV my beloved.

masterlist

Your fingernails are a mess. Bit too long, one nail a little jagged, cuticles further up on the nail bed than you like. Really you need to make time to go to the salon this weekend. Oh didn't Kate say something about going Thursday with her wife? Maybe you could join them unless it’s a date night wouldn't want to be third-wheeling on that. 

Now what design should you get? Roses? It's too early in the spring for that. Cherry Blossoms would be too basic though. You could do Crocus or Ivy, that would look pretty with maybe a more neutral background. 

A wet crack that you know is bone breaking interrupts your thoughts, followed by a scream that has that broken scrape to its edges that comes from too much use. Looking up you see only the broad back of night that is Ghost at his bloody and violent work. Along the edges, you see a twitching body that toes that line of just being a split seams sack of meat and broken bones that sometimes makes noise. 

You didn't think you would get used to this part of your job as Kate's assistant. But after one particular 'guest', whose crimes had started with animal abuse and ended with mass murder had said things you did your best to forget, well you got over it real quick.  

Your stopwatch buzzes. Your part of this interrogation is about to begin. The beauty to his butchery. The soft pretty thing untouched by the grizzly display. The one holding his leash. It is a dynamic that makes you one of the best integrator teams. Just after John and Kate who have this disappointed parents front they put up that makes even the hardest crack in shocking ways. 

(Kate has become accustomed to being called 'mommy' much to her horror she had confessed over drinks one night.)

"Ghost love," Word like the whisper of a whip with how ridged the Lieutenant becomes. "Give the man a break please." He nodded, turning on his heel and coming to your side like a loyal guard dog. 

He tugs off one blood-soaked glove revealing his pale hand tattooed with its bones, like an x-ray in living motion. You felt positively Victorian in how your heart speeds up and air stuck in your throat at the display. The reveal of hand and wrist is as intimate as a lover wearing gossamer lace.  Wordlessly you handing him a bottle of water brushing gently the violence-warmed skin. His eyes are as sharp as the knives he hones flickering from the contact point to your gently parted lips. Crinkling in what you hoped was a fanged smile he tugs the bottom of his mask up to drink. Letting you catalog each slivered scar that graced his skin the way stars do the night sky. 

"Pretty thing so soft and just as sweet." His voice is rough as dark as the shadowed corners of a haunted house. Setting the bottle down next to your hand his fingers gently skimming your soft skin, both of you shivering at the contact. It is no wonder, you think, that there is a betting pool of when you two would finally knock boots. 

"You're going a little extra rough with the prisoner today, did something happen this weekend?" Asking him with one of your softest voices the one for crying children and feral animals, all creatures that were likely to bite. 

Rolling his eyes. Hip settling against the table's edge. Boots shifting to slide along the edges of your feet. "Tried to find a good shag yea? But ended up with a twiggy thing waist big 'round as my arm. Got 'er all warmed up and dripping but when I go to finally get mine. Couldn't fit, well she tries to be sweet begs me for a minute to just go 'head. So I do but end up twisting my PA. Had to take it out 'cus it was making me swell up and bruise. Bloody tip got a dent, a bruise, and is swollen fucking 'ell it's uncomfortable." 

You try not to simultaneously wince and laugh. "Poor thing." Feeling a little bold you rub circles along the back of his bare hand. His eyes flick to watch as he slides his hand closer to you a silent invitation to continue. 

"You know what lean meat is good for? Fucking casseroles. Naw lovie, need me something marbled with fat, nice and tender. A good ribeye or brisket just falls apart on my fingers, something I can sink my teeth into." He leans in closer, you can see a spray of blood, like freckles, across the cheekbones of his mask. Brown eyes like grave dirt, the soil rich from blood soaking it.  "Need something soft like you." 

You tremble anticipation clawing along your spine across the plane of ribs and hipbones the chilled fire like a cautious lover. "Oh?" 

"Soft things like you, know how to have fun. Can slap that pretty arse and toss you around. Bruise those thick thighs while kneeling at your feet. Spend hours making you moan my name." His ungloved hand has moved to grab your chin tilting your face up. The touch is blister hot, phosphorus at ignition deadly, and oh so bright. 

You open your mouth the tip of your tongue grazing his thumb. Sucking at the digit and swirling it in your mouth for a moment before freeing it with a pop. He growls like a starving dog. 

"Oh for fucks sake just ask me your bloody questions so I don't have to watch anymore." The prisoner spits out a tooth and blood. Dangling from the ceiling like a cow after slaughter carcass dripping blood. 

Ghost's eyes flash with irritation at the interruption. You can't help but smile. Circling your fingers around his wrist with a far more intimate moment in mind as you tease him. He groans and your thighs part at the sound desire a bubbling pool. 

"Give me and what's mine a minute." He snarls out, your eyes flicker down his body watching with a pleased buzz as he adjusts himself. 

"yours huh?" Whispering as your eyes lock back with his. Something like blood covering volcanic glass after it's slashed across the throat of a caught thing is spoken of between your bodies. An offering you give on bent knee or a back against cotton sheets. 

"Not going to let you go, ever. Not when I've got my teeth in you." Its threat and promise tied with red silk ribbons and iron padlocked chains. As inevitable as death. Not that you mind. 

#babbling.brook.writing #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley cod #call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader

[stigandr-the-cat]

What Crawls in the Night

Materlist

Summary - Once a man said “Rage against the dying of the light” and it was bullshit. Humanity didn't go out with a bang or a nuclear explosion. It went out with secrets taken to its grave as its killers snarled and tore at the bodies of its survivors. It went out with rainwater that many thought was safe to drink. It went out as some survivors turned into half-infected creatures with only the thought of warm blood in their gullets. It went out.

When Toxoplasma Grant destroys the world, you a scrub tech who was raised by survivalists must learn to navigate this new world along with a certain Task Force who have come knocking at your door.

Trigger Warnings and What to Expect - No use of Y/N, Use of nicknames "Apple" and "Feral", Reader will have a backstory, Reader is Fat, use of they/she pronouns, eventual smut, medical inaccuracy, body horror, murder, neglect of animals (they will be saved don't worry), death of a secondary character, blood, dead bodies, hurt, angst, disassociation, comfort, eventual HEA

Author's Note and Release Schedule - I have never played Call of Duty, only half-watched a play-through. While I am super excited about this series there will not be a release schedule. Between work, school, and having to manage a chronic illness, it will happen when it happens. If you would like to be added to a taglist let me know. This will also be crossposted on AO3.

Behind the World - The Pseudo-Science of Toxoplasma Grant

Part One - The Apocalypse

Chapter One - ???

#babbling.brook.writing #What Crawls in the Night #call of duty #cod #task force 141 #tf 141 #john price x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #simon ghost riley x reader

[stigandr-the-cat]

Behind the world of "What Crawls in the Night" the pseudo-science

'What Crawls in the Night' Masterlist

AN: This was not written by a professional I am just a nerd. This is pseudo-science for an upcoming post-apocalyptic AU. Nor have I played COD I just think it (it being TF141) looks neat.

*Recovered Historical Document - HDC-TF141-483-NHL*

A Summary of Known Information on Toxoplasma Grant (T. Grant)

By Dr. Stigandr Katten et al

Objective

Summarize the history, symptomology, modes of transmission, prevention of infection, and what should be done in the face of Toxoplasma Grant.

History

Toxoplasma Grant (i.e., T. Grant) is also known by its common name, “Night Crawler”, so named after how it causes its hosts to be active at night and not, ‘as some may claim’, because of one of its original researcher’s love of the Marvel Character. T. Grant was originally found in a cave hidden in the permafrost of Siberia. The geological team led by Dr. R. J. Antony stumbled across a group of ten mummified human remains that were littered with holes. The team called for support from both an anthropologist as well as a parasitologist when one of the students of the geological team astutely observed that there was what appeared to be a dried, hyper-enlarged parasite inside the holes. This unknown student is the only reason we have been able to gather this paltry information or even know about T. Grant. Without their observation, we would be lost in the dark as this infection rolled over the globe; it’s a shame then, that their name and also their life was one of the first lost to the parasite. 

Dr. Shanti Cale of UCSF's parasitology department was sent to investigate, along with her assistant, Steven Banks. A Doctor of Anthropology, Zackery Addy of Georgetown, was also sent. It was during one of the many autopsy sessions that video evidence shows Steven Banks accidentally cut himself and squirted one of the pipettes with rehydrated worm larva into the cut. Instead of informing the doctors, Mr. Banks cleaned the wound perhaps believing falsely that it would be ok. As we know now, that was the furthest thing from the truth. During its incubation period, Mr. Banks became severely ill, vomiting into a sink that flowed into the communal water tanks for the site. We believe, but can't confirm due to loss of the site, that faulty filters didn't pick up the presence of the parasite, which then was given back to the researchers in the water they drank. Even without that confirmation, within hours nearly all of the assembled teams were infected, as is evidenced when, after its incubation period of about 24 hours, video shows Mr. Banks, as well as the other infected, attacking and killing other members of the teams. From there, the hosts start dissipating from camp while shortly after, cases start appearing in Russia, China, Mongolia, and other eastern European countries.

  Sources have started to also call hosts 'Zombies,' since they hold many of the same characteristics as the made-up monsters. Unlike the monsters, who some of my teammates have informed me are considered near immortal, the hosts start decomposing after the frontal lobe is eaten by the parasite, as the brain no longer has the ability to tell the body to replace or repair cells. Movement becomes limited the further the infection progresses. An odd pattern has been observed that the infected avoid sunlight as well as warmth, moving more towards colder climates. A debate has been raised as to whether or not the parasite realizes its host's body is decomposing and trying to find ways to slow down that process. Personally, this researcher doesn't believe that a parasite could be capable of that kind of thinking and instead posits that it avoids the light as normally it is only found alive in the dark. Hopefully, time and more studying will reveal the answer.

Recent autopsies conducted on hosts of T. Grant show that the parasite goes from the intestinal tract to infect the blood and then starts burrowing into the muscles and organs of the host, eating away at them and from there growing in size. For some of the infected, about 15%, the parasite can't cross the blood-brain barrier. We do not know at this time if anything can be done to save these kinds of cases, but we do know that within a week or two of infection, the patient is driven mad with the agonizing pain of being eaten alive and death is a mercy. It's almost to be considered a blessing then that most of the time the parasite eats the brain first. The only way death can occur in victims or the brain-dead-but-walking hosts is to shoot them in the head or remove the head in some other fashion. Once the host’s body reaches the active and advanced stages of decomposition, they are no longer able to move but still are considered an active and dangerous carrier.

Symptomology

The initial indicators that one has been infected by T. Grant are brain fog, as well as muscle cramps, and abdominal pain, followed by hematemesis. After 24-72 hours, depending on the digestion system of the host, the biggest sign, to put it bluntly, will be the host trying to attack and eat you.

Modes of Transmission

There are three common vectors for the transmission of T. Grant. First, the blood, spit, waste, and other viscera of infected hosts. Second, reservoir host animals are a concern, as, while animals can't develop fully the parasite like the human body can, eating undercooked meat—especially the intestines of infected animals—leads to human infection in nearly all cases. Third, the parasite has been found in wastewater as well as natural bodies of water. Dr. Mary Wolfenstein of Lancaster University postulates that this is from rain waters falling on the putrefying bodies of T. Grant's victims or should a host fall into a lake or free-flowing body of water during decomposition.

Prevention of Infection

  Avoid contact with the infected, including the non-moving. Only once a body has reached full skeletonization is it safe to touch. If contact can't be avoided, do not allow any of the host's fluid or body to enter your mouth, other orifices, or wounds.

  Reservoir host animals are typically carrion birds and other carnivorous animals; avoid eating these animals, especially if they are undercooked. Omnivours also can be reservoir hosts, but not as frequently as carnivores. Caution should also be applied to animal waste as parasites can live in it for weeks to months. Until the waste is fully dried or sterilized, it should not be handled without great care. Thankfully, research has shown that herbivores can't be infected even when given infected water or injected with the parasite. Early studies have shown that this could be due to the rumination in their complex stomach systems.   

When dealing with water, research has shown that the only way to rid the water of the parasite is to boil it for five minutes or let it rest in a clean environment for 10-14 days, with a shorter timeframe of 4-6 days if the water is in a warmer climate or the contaminate has been removed from free-flowing water. Standing water should be avoided on principle.

  Caution is also to be extended to soil if it's been contaminated by carnivorous or omnivorous animal waste or decomposed host bodies. So it should go without saying don’t eat soil or get infected soil into an open wound. Now depending on soil temperature, parasites can live for five months in environments where the soil temperature is 40°F (4°C) and three months at 70°F (21°C). With the evidence of the permafrost mummies, should the parasite stay in a host that is then rapidly frozen after death, it can live for close to thousands of years if the carbon dating was accurate. While plants can't host the virus, should you improperly wash vegetables or fruit grown in contaminated soil, you risk infection.  

What Comes Next

  Given all of this information, we should be preparing for a long siege by the parasite. Yet, the United States as well as many other 'developed' countries are currently using AI technology to search and destroy any content relating to T. Grant. When I questioned a source at the CIA, they could only offer the idea that this was to keep from repeating the violence and hysteria of the ‘Odin Crisis’ and the COVID-19 pandemic—to which this researcher can only say, bullshit—people need to be preparing. We have, at most, months if not weeks before this parasite is completely global. People need to be barricading their homes with enough food and bottled water to last at least 6 months, if not fleeing to warmer, southern climates. Yet, many governments are not only burying their heads in the sand, but one politician I spoke to said, "If this is how Armageddon is meant to come, then we can't stop it." Without any action or preparation, we are looking at 95% of humanity dead within 2 years. This is a fact that I wish I was making up, but computer model projections show that when the virus hits the United States, 60% of humanity will be dead within six days, 84% at two weeks, 89% at six months, 93% at a year, and finally 95% at 2 years. With the proposed 6-month quarantine, we are still looking at losses close to 74% on a global scale, but it would mean a billion or so lives that would be saved with those preparations.

  However, it seems that government policy will remain the same. If the government will do nothing, then we, the scientific community, must do something. Speak out about this coming crisis. Warn all around you to prepare. The end of humanity comes not with the splitting of an atom or a shot heard around the world, but with a parasite that will eat us from the inside out.

*Historical note - While this document is different than contemporary scientific articles in its structure and tone, evidence has been shown that this document was meant to be the start of Dr. Katten et al releasing all gathered information; and therefore more of a call to action to a scientific community that was stunned at the swift silencing of information by many governments. Dr. Stigandr Katten was killed soon after the publication of this article. While police claim it was a home invasion gone wrong, recovered internal NSA emails offer evidence they were killed in an attempt to silence the truth from getting out. Following their death, the rest of their team was disbanded with more evidence showing they were threatened into silence.

*More Information - The journals of Dr. Katten, as well as portions of the team's notes, were recently discovered showing the work put in to build the parasite’s profile. Should you wish to read either of these documents, please contact the New Hope Library about receiving an e-copy of them. The physical copies will be on display in the New Hope Museum in the 'Survival During the Endemic' Wing. 

#babbling.brook.writing #call of duty #call of duty fic #cod fic #tf 141 x reader #tf 141 #john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #What Crawls in the Night

[stigandr-the-cat]

Ghost of the Garage

a/n: How did I get here again? Forgive if a little OOC I don't know the games beyond the one playthrough that was half-watched. Also, this is unbeta'd or edited its fucking midnight here and I'm still processing that somehow 1300+ words just came out of me from a stray thought on a Tuesday...

Summary : Ghost overhears the little technical analyst singing and unlocks a core memory causing an emotion. (Reader is referred to as you, 2nd person pov my beloved)

Ghost hadn’t meant to listen. Sitting in his truck the smoke from the cigarette long faded into the dull throb of remembrance. 

Tap tap was the click of shoes on the concrete of the parking garage. His eyes flicker to watch as you the little, (subjective there was nothing little about the thickness of your thighs or waist even if you couldn’t reach his chin without a step stool), technical analyst crossed in front of his truck. You stop at a car turning and sitting on the hood. Phone in hand.

“Ok, I’m alone.” That gets his attention, what were you doing that you needed to be alone for?   

“Sing for me!” there is a clearly drunk voice on the other end that he can barely hear. He scoffs and relaxes tension that had rolled like violence along his spine and down to his blood-soaked hands vanishing like smoke. 

You whine, soft like a child. Eyes darting around chewing your lower lip raw. As if you’ve just been asked to hand over national secrets not give an impromptu concert. Not like there was lesser evil in that situation. 

“It's my engagement party, and you're not here. This is you make it up to me. Please!” He can hear the pouting over the phone and meters away like a physical blow. Even you wince at it. 

“Fine.” You take a few deep breaths, your chest expanding like bellows as your eyes flutter closed. He settles back with a half smirk on his lips, this should be interesting.

And oh, oh god. It's not the tinkling of bells, not the high sharp whisper he had half thought you would sound like. The songbird version of the sweet crisp voice he is used to when you pass out data to the Task Force or the gentle voice that whispers in their ears when on missions. No this is deep sonorous and rattles the walls. Like the echoes across the moors that stick to your bones pulling you into their hidden depths till your head is underwater and you are lost. He is lost. 

Only when you are closing the song he remembers its name. ‘Evergreen’ from that play/opera thing his ma loved. He remembers taking her to a live production, the glitter of tears in her eyes when the curtain rose. Her hand in his as she hummed along to each song. Breathless laughing indignation when the intermission was called “I was just getting into it!” she had grumbled even as she smiled. When the show ended, she kissed his cheek and thanked him for being a good son. His throat is closing, tight and hot as it tries to force the sudden knot of agony down. Only the echos of memory, of your voice, linger in the cracked spaces of the walls that surround him; that surround you both.

-

“There are you happy now?” You are breathless forcing yourself to speak into your phone, chest heaving, trying to work your throat around the anxiety that lodges itself there. Across the world, your best friend starts screaming and babbling like an overly excited toddler. You can’t help but smile.   

“You're still going to be able to come to my wedding right?” 

“Yes,” Finally the muscles start to relax allowing you to speak to breathe. “Everyone is on leave for a while. Still leaving Friday.” Picking your words carefully, unable and unwilling to say the boys had just returned from a mission a little worse for wear and wouldn’t be allowed anywhere near a tarmac let alone a mission for at least a month. 

“Good I need my bestie to walk me down the aisle. Shit I have to go, Alec just arrived and I want to kiss him. I’m picking you up and we're getting cake ok?” Ending the sentence with a kiss. 

“Ok.” You smile and return the kiss before the call ends. Heart filled with love.

Still a little shaky you lean over chest to thighs as you wait for the dizzy spell to pass. Singing wasn’t always this hard, but… But. You don’t let yourself go down that path. Baring it in your mind iron bars sliding into place. Keeping that darkness at bay. 

bravo bravo bravissimo, the words whisper around you like a mist.

Jolting upright. What was that? Looking around nervous. You were alone. Right? Yet you could have sworn. Sweat breaks across your body as your heart rate spikes, adrenaline flooding your system. Quickly you get up running like a scared rabbit back to the stairwell, with one last look into the dimly lit space hoping, dreading, to see someone else before rushing back to the building that held your office. 

-

Hours later and Ghost is wondering what possessed him to say that. Sure your voice was as lovely as the northern lights. Shining out across the darkness spiking towards the earth as if your bright colorful light could hope to touch the dirt so far below you. Sure that was what one of the characters had said to the lass after her song. But why had he said it? And loud enough for you to hear it too. Only to watch you bolt like a frightened hare that heard the braying of dogs. 

“LT? Earth ta Ghost?” His eyes slide to Johnny, the Scot’s got an eyebrow raised and a shit-eating grin on his face. Right, he was at the after-action meeting or whatever this bureaucratic time waste was. 

He grunts ignoring as best he can those far too bright blue eyes. A mistake when you come into the room. Still as jumpy as a hare. He stiffens, angry at himself knowing he caused that fear that covers you like a cloud. Soap turns and sees it too. 

“Y’a alright Bon?” Johnny asks concerned. 

“Oh yeah, um.” Your bottom lip looks like it's about to start bleeding and Ghost can’t stop staring at it. Your voice is back to its normal higher pitch and it rings in his ear a false echo of what he knows now. “I got a little spooked earlier in the parking garage that's all.” 

Gaz perks up, instantly as concerned as Soap. “What happened? Need us to make sure you get to your car safely?” Waving for you to sit between him and Soap, ready to comfort. 

“I thought I heard someone talk to me, but I was certain it was empty. I don’t want to trouble you but if one of you wouldn’t mind walking me to my car. At least till I leave for home on Friday.”

“Course Bon.” Soap smiles reassuringly towards you but when he notices Ghost's eyes on him the smile goes positively cheshier. “Won’t let anything happen t’a y’a, will we LT?” Those damn eyes skip back to him, far too intelligent. God, he knows Soap will be interrogating him later. Still, he nods at you and watches as relief sinks into you, like a wilted flower that suddenly has water again you perk up. 

“Thank you.” You settle into a chair finally, relaxing even more as Gaz puts a hand on your back, it makes Ghost bristle without warning or reason. “Let's just hope this meeting wraps up quickly so we can head home early ya?”  Handing out packets to both Soap and Gaz before leaning over to hand one to him. Ghost’s gloved hands skim over your fingers as you hand it to him the tiniest zap of energy passing between you both, causing you to squeak in surprise. 

“You ok?” He asks. 

Blinking before looking up your mouth a perfect little ‘o’ a spark of recognition in your eyes. You look like you're about to say something when Price and Laswell walk in calling the meeting to order. 

He can feel your eyes on him. Blinking slowly, tension crawls up his spine as he prepares that it's probably not just going to be Johnny who will be interrogating him soon. Not that he will have answers for either of you. 

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley cod #call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x you #babbling.brook.writing #If it wasn't obvious reader is chubby #Hey where the f*ck did this come from? #Looking at this like its a thing the cat dragged in

[stigandr-the-cat]

Thinking about forehead kisses with Hawks. But not just the brush of lips while he is laughing. Or when he is rushing out to patrol that extra 5 minutes of sleep, he had demanded for you both now making the morning a mad dash to work. But the kind most think of that you get from a cat or dog or bird. Where your foreheads are resting against each other nuzzling eyes closed smiling. Contented little sighs from you both. His visor pushing at your face. Arms wrapped around. Your fingers in his feathers, His tangling in your shirt pulling it up so he can feel your skin your heat and know you are there and real and his.

There is something to be said about living about living just outside the city limits. Just inside the forest edge. It took a while for Hawks to accept it. He had to be drawn there with sweet words and promises that if he truly couldn't handle it, they could find some nice apartment in the city. Those nights he nearly went crazy with the lack of sound. No cars or horns they very breathe of the city unheard. Save for your breathe beside him. Curling into his side under his stretched-out wings. That’s what convinces him to stay how easy it is to hear you. Sleep drunk and mummering pulling his wing like it’s a blanket closer to your body.

There is also being able to come home to you in the garden pulling out something that has ripped under your combined care. Pressing kisses to your sun warmed skin that tastes of salt and sunblock.

Or cold nights where the fire is going, and you both are sharing sake on a thick futon that’s been dragged out just for this. Giggling at the pop of sap in the flames that sends sparks against the glass.

There is safety too. No villains can easily see when he lands. Monitor his every move from this nest. Easier to defend too everyone around here knows everything and come to him when a different car passes. Granny Kiki got a hot rod he found out.

But his favorite thing is in this stillness in this silence he can come home wind swept and tired, press his forehead to yours and just exist.  

"Keigo! Welcome home!" You call when he flies in. The patio door left open just for him. "Thanks again for the eta babe, dinner is just about ready."

God, he had dreamed for years about hearing those words. Having someone to come home to. Even now his heart swells each time he hears it. How you turn to him and smile. Forgetting to shut the door he drops too just before you. Arms and hands curling around your body bringing it as close as possible to his. Visor knocking against your face while he presses his forehead to yours. A contented sigh rumbling his chest at the feel of the world settling into perfection. You've given and continue to give him so much. This gentle show of affection one of the first things.

Growing up love was said with bruises and screaming voices. When the commission had him love was said with scorn and manipulation. But with you love is giving with little touches and gentle words. You taught him first that the passion of biting lips and knocking against the wall while stumbling to a flat surface isn't the only way to show love. You first pulled him into a hug pressing your forehead against his, a sigh like a purr rumbling against his chest. It's become his 3rd favorite thing after fried chicken.

The huff of laughter you exhale. Hands curling into his feathers. Your body leaning into his. Your smile at the love he gives you. Soon he will start babbling about his day, wings fluffing in delight when you ask him questions or give him praise for his hard work. He will quietly ask you about your day later in bed when he might as well be on top of you with how his arm, wing, and leg are thrown across you. While you have both hands on his back drawing circles. Foreheads still pressed together drifting to sleep.

a/n: This was meant to be about kisses but turned into my personal boner for wanting to live further into a more rural area. 

#babbling.brook.writing #my hero academia #hawks #hawks x reader #keigo takami #keigo x you #I love one bird man

[stigandr-the-cat]

Summer of the Seagull

Or "The One Who Steals Fries" pt 1 of the cursed were-animal Yager boys.

Summary: When Y/N is attacked by a mysterious creature on their way to class they must confront the truth behind their boyfriend Eren Yager.

a/n : This is so bad. Like 'went back to look at how I first started writing fanfiction in early 2010's and copied that' bad. It's giving girly just read Twilight and discovered FanFiction.Net. It's Eren slander but in the way you slander your best friend. Read at your own risk. This has been known to cause tears not sure what kind....

Cursed Were-Animal Masterlist

When you first transferred to Sina Marine Science University it seemed like a dream come true. Espically when you hooked up with arguably the hottest guy on campus Eren Yeager who had abs and thighs for days and eyes as  bright green as bioluminescent seaweed. It was going great! Until one morning you got called into the morning shift at your job at the local fast food joint. So not fun. But you did get fresh free fries so that was a plus. You had a big bag filled with the fried delights to share with your boyfriend and his two best friends. As you walked you chatted with another classmate of yours. 

"I don't know why your dating that Yeager guy, everyone knows your supposed to avoid them."

"Ya but he sooo hot."

"Augh so is Jean and his family dosen't have a dark past."

"Did you ever think that maybe that’s what makes him so hot?"

"I thought it was the fact that he was a gym rat."

"That too."

"Whatever at least Jean isn't obsessed with seagulls like Eren is."

"They are important to the ecosystem! Besides have you ever seen him caring for one of them? It melts your heart!"

"I'm telling you, you should stay away for your own good. Those abs aren’t worth it."

Honestly the conversation had left you a little shaken and questioning your own judgement. But like Eren had to been ok, right? Besides he was so cute, even if watching him feed the baby seagulls puree fish guts was a little gross, he normaly was shirtless when he did it so that made up for it. But it totally had put a damper on your day that she had said those things. Walking over to where you saw Armin and Mikasa you waved putting on a big smile. 

SUDDENLY you felt something smash into you hard. Knocking you to the ground! It really hurt too! When you looked up all you could see was feathers? Whatever it was it had taken your bag of fries! Blood pooled in the palm of your hand red and hot. 

"Oh no Y/N are you ok?" Armin rushed over to you. Mikasa not even a half step behind. Already she was pulled out a first aid kit. All three of you carried them because of Eren's habits of fights for the rights of seagulls or if he thought someone had insulted any one of you. 

"What was that thing? It stole the fries I had gotten for all of us!" Hiccupping sobs broke from your chest. 

The two friends shared a look. Ignoring the question as they turned back to you. Mikasa was already cleaning the wound on your hand and knees. Leaving you teary eyed and pouting, wondering why they didn't say anything. Heck no one on campus said anything, no one came to see what had happened. It was like they all forgot about it. But you wouldn't! You couldn't! You had worked hard for those fries. 

Later in class Eren came to sit next to you hand going to your back, those beautiful green glass orbs filling with concern.

"Babe what happened?" 

"I got attacked by something! And it stole all my fries! But no one seems to care!" You burred yourself into his chest. Eren went still and quiet which was shocking enough. 

"It stole your fries?" He asked voice soft. 

"AND ATTACKED ME!" You whimpered into that thick chest. Wanting to milk your upset for all it was worth. 

"Babe I have answers for you, but you need to meet me on the beach tonight after dark." 

You looked up from his chest to his chiseled Adonis like face with its light dusting of stubble confused. He gave you a weak smile before kissing your lips. All your worries melted away under those lips, his kisses could solve all the worlds problems if only people payed attention to his lips. 

"Ok!" You smiled up at him mind gone just from a simple kiss from him. 

But later your mind drifted back to what had happened. Cloud nine vanishing from under you and leaving you with so many more questions. What happened to your fries? Why had you been attacked, more then that why had Eren seemed like he knew more then he was letting on? Annoyed you pulled out your phone pulling up Google and typing a question into the search bar. What has feathers and steals fires? Within a blink you has a million images and videos of seagulls stealing peoples fries even as they tried to eat them. Is that what had happened to your fries? But like it has also knocked you down, so hard that it had scraped your hand and knees. So it couldn't be a seagull could it? But like what if was a bigger seagull? 

Then you kept scrolling down and saw a local article, on opening it you saw a blurry picture of some sort of werido wearing a seagull mask and wings even had tail feathers! Oh but it was a video. You pressed play and saw this werido running wings extended flapping as they tried to fly. But wait those abs? You recognized them? Even as more questions rose in your mind something crystalized. Something was super strange about your boyfriend. 

That night you had skipped the rest of your classes and dinner. Before you had left the house checking the mirror to make sure you still looked ok. Eren was so hot and you had to make sure you still matched him even if you were now certain about what he was hiding. On the beach he stood back towards you as he looked up at the cloud covered moon. 

"Y/N, thank you for coming. I have something to tell you."

"Its ok Eren, I know what you are."

"Say it, say it out loud."

"Your." You took a deep breath coming up to touch the middle of his back. "You’re a were-seagull."

He shivered, the clouds started to uncover the moon. Pull his shirt off quickly Eren turned towards you. He body changed before your eyes. His head shifting even as massive wings and tail feathers sprouted across his back. He turned his bird head so that one eye was directly on you. 

"Could you still love a monster like me? Even after I hurt you?"

"Are you going to keep stealing my fires?"

"No, it’s the full moon it brings the change on me and makes it hard to control my impulses." You stared at his abs still defined and glowing with their own inner light in the dark. 

"Yes, I will always love you." 

"Good, for tonight the revolution begins."

"Eren what are you talking about?"

"For too long seagulls have been treated like pests. I say no more! Tonight we rise! Tonight we fight! Tonight we take back our dignity and take over the planet. I am the Seagull King and soon to be emperor of this new world were no seagull will have to fight for fires be instead will be given them as tribute. I will have you by my side! You shall rule this world with me! Together we shall raise the next generation of seagulls in a world with no fear."

"Eren…" You voice trailed off looked down to his abs again. Shrugging you realized a few things mostly if this worked then you wouldn't have to go to work in the morning again or have homework to deal with. 

"Ok Eren I will stay with you. Make me like you, make me a were-seagull too." 

"Are you sure my beloved?" He asked cocking his head.

"Yes."

"Ok." He came forward nuzzling your cheek with his beak before opening it wide and engulfing your head. Your last thought 'Tonight we take back our planet for the seagulls." 

#babbling.brook.writing #snk #aot #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #eren yeager #eren x reader #eren x you #eren x y/n

[stigandr-the-cat]

What the Duck is Wrong With My Boyfriend?

part 2 of the cursed were-animal series featuring the Yager boys

Summary: Something is terribly wrong with your boyfriend.... Or is something terribly right? No, it's wrong.

a/n: Blame John Oliver's yearly duck episode as well as my personal dislike of Zeke. Minors be gone. TW - duck anatomy, AFAB reader. Read at your own risk.

Cursed Were-Animal Masterlist

Something was wrong with your boyfriend Zeke. Even since the two had become intimate in your relationship it had led to fucking like bunnies across every surface. To the point of your friends and roommates begging you both to move in together so they didn't catch him 'frosting' your cake anymore. Or at least less often. 

Which it had. It also deepened your relationship. In more than just the frequent cock-warming cuddle nights giggling in each other's arms. You had learned how he always wore one headphone cocked in such a way that he could hear everything. A lesson he had learned from his abusive father. While he learned you keep the house sparkling clean to combat the anxiety that threatened to overwhelm you at any given moment.

That he hadn’t touched you in almost two weeks was concerning. When before then he had always been tapping your ass in morse code always something dirty or sweet. Or just even putting his hand on some part of your body. From the moment you had met when he had shaken your hand he always touched you. As if he was trying to remember that you were real. Tonight the plan was to talk to him, ask what was going on and what this meant. 

Had you said something that had set this off? Was something going on at work? Had the tense call he had recently been the reason? Had it been his estranged father? Or his half-brother? It was heartbreaking, the ache where the constant touch of his hand had once been. The loss of his familiar weight on your body. 

Keys jingled in the door as it creaked open. You waiting for his familiar call of ‘sweetcheeks’ before realizing that too had vanished along with his touch. That realization pushed you over the edge till silent tears dripped down your face. 

“Baby? What’s wrong?” Zeke rushed over to the dinner table kneeling before you pulling the legs of the chair till it faced him. 

“Why won’t touch me?” voice warbling as the words were choked out. 

“I…” Zeke raised a hand looking for all the world like he wanted to cup your cheek. To pull you into his arms. But he dropped it again sitting back on his haunches. 

“What Zeke? Do you not like my body anymore? Am I that repulsive you refuse to touch me?” Sadness pulling anger into your words so that they landed like blows, like a cold rain after so long under the hot sun. 

“No! It's not you! It's me!” Zeke flinched as if even he realized how crapy that excuse sounded. 

“Wow. That's the worst lie you have ever told me. If you can’t stand me anymore just say it. Ill leave tonight.” Venom coating your words trembling with fear and anger as your rose. 

Zeke fell onto his ass. Eyes wide enough that you could see tears gathering. It hurt watching your hearts be torn in two. 

“Please, don’t leave me. I love you. I just.” He paused, chest heaving, and stood. “Something happened last week and I don’t know how to explain it or how to fix it and I’m scared.” His voice was small the words hardly reaching the sound of blood roaring in your ears. The pounding of your heart slowed down at its sound. 

“Zeke don’t shut me out, I want to help you. I love you so much, but you have to let me.” Reaching for him. He shivered at the touch of your hand on his beard. The fine hairs tickling your palm. He sucked in a breath. 

"I got bit by a duck!" The words rushing out and running together. 

"I'm sorry what." You could almost hear the record scratch as the world just stopped. 

"I. Got. Bit. By. A. Duck. And it's. Changed me in. Weird ways." His teeth grinding as he bit it out like chewing gristle. 

Backing away you looked him up and down. “Explain.” whatever this was, break up or some weird ass role-play fantasy he was going to get kicked in the nuts soon. 

“Ok so, umm. There is no easy way to say this but.” He flushed scarlet looking as miserable as a puppy in the rain.”Something is wrong with my dick.” 

“Zeke I swear on the NIne Titans if this is a euphemism for you cheating on me, getting an STI, and now i have to get tested I will delete all of your data on your hard drive and game systems.” Your arms crossing as you glared daggers at him, the budding sympathy becoming fury.  

The scarlet became sheet white. “Baby I swear, it's not.” He sputtered. 

“Really.” You deadpaned. 

“No look.” He started tugging at his pants, till they were open and he tugged both pants and boxers down. 

His dick sprang free. Your eyes going wide at the sight. Looking at it, then back to his face, and returning back to his dick. 

“Zeke what is that?” 

“My dick.” 

“Like hell it is!” Sputtering you gestured at it “I've never sucked that thing in my life.” 

“Yea well I’ve been pissing out of it for days so.” 

“Did you really just bring up peeing right after I talked about oral?” 

“....I see your point. That was weird.” He paused. “But saying I’ve been giving myself handjobs with it seems like it might raise bigger issues.” 

“Zeke. You have a corkscrew dick that is slightly tinted blue. If that’s not the biggest issue on your mind, then I’m scared to ask what is.” 

It was horrifyingly true. With his underwear and pants pushed down to his thighs and shirt tugged up you could see it just hanging there bobbing. Like some twisted slinky. His once long thick dick that had been the prettiest shade of pink was now replaced. Now it was now edging towards robins egg blue in color. But that wasn’t the worst part. No, that horror was that it was corkscrew in shape. Still just as thick and long, probably longer now if it started to uncurl. And yet even as horrified as you were, you couldn’t look away. 

“I think I might be a wereduck now. If that’s even a thing.”

“I think I need to get drunk.” 

“Yes please, I'll join you.” He started to walk towards you.

“You will not until you put that thing away.” 

"A month ago you asked me if I'd love you as a worm! Remember?" He whined. “And this how you repay me?”

You in fact did. It had been extremely adorable to watch him promise to give you a perfect worm home and feed you fresh fruit and veggies but also make sure you had enrichment to keep you entertained. It was actually very sweet in a weird way. 

“Yes but I didn’t plan on turning into a worm!” as you pulled out the whisky, uncorking it and taking a long pull. 

“And I didn’t plan on becoming a wereduck! But here we are!” Zeke took the bottle from your hands and took a drink. “Besides who knows if you get bit by a worm you might become one.” 

With that horrifying thought in mind you grabbed another bottle, this one vodka tilted it up and chugged. 

"Sentience was a mistake please let me go back to the primordial soup!"

Zeke threw his arms around you shifting his hips so that the thing he had hidden back in his pants didn't touch you. 

"Noooooo!" He slurred drunkenly "Don't become soup, then I won’t be able to hear you moan when I eat you.” 

“Fine, I won’t become soup.” You grumbled into the neck of the whisky bottle having switched with Zeke halfway through for it. The world was fuzzy at the edges. But the heat and weight of Zeke against you felt so good especially after going for so long without it. 

“Good, can I still eat you?” Nibbling at your neck his hands slipping under the soft cotton shirt. 

It had been so long, the memory of his tongue lapping against your clit and folds. His fingers twisting into your pussy as he drew more nectar to drink. Heat pooled as the memory melted you from the inside out. 

“Please.” It was a plea. The depravation of his loving touch combined with heavy drink on an empty stomach an aphrodisiac. 

The nibbling on your neck broke away. Deft hands pulling and tugging at clothing till you were bare. Zeke left only in his boxers. He was already pulling your legs over his shoulders raising your hips to his lips. Hot breath drifting across already flushed skin desire making you wet and whimper at even that slight brush. 

“Tell me what you need from me, sweetcheeks.” A hand kneading into the plush skin of your thigh and ass. 

“Your mouth on me.” You begged. 

“Where on you?” his tongue darted out giving a quick lick against your sensitive clit. Making you arch and cry out. 

“My clit and pussy!” You moaned tone begging him for relief and release. 

“Good love.” He whispered before he attached his mouth to your clit.

The pleasure was instant and electric. Tears sprang to your eyes as he lapped at your folds. Pleasure curling itself like a spiral tighter and tighter. His ministrations bringing your release a breath away. Your hands drifting down to grasp his ash blond hair, his moan vibrating against your entrance making your hips buck and he continued to lap away. 

“Please Zeke I’m so close.” Begging for him to keep going. 

He growled, slipping two fingers inside twisting them around till he found the right spot and stroked. The combination of his fingers inside and his mouth on your clit was too much. Crying out his name you tumbled over the edge. Bucking wildly as shivers shot up and down your spine like it was a xylophone. He kept licking drinking up each drop of nectar you gave him. 

Lowed you against the couch, licking his lips to savor the last of the taste of you before laying a top you. Kissing each breast and licking your nipples before settling down against your chest. Your legs still wrapped around him. 

“You feel good baby?” He asked. “I missed touching you like this so much.” His hands skating your sides. Stoking a barely hidden fire. A thought trickled its way inside your head.

“Yes.” You had to approach this with caution. “But I need more, I need to feel you. But only if you want to.” 

Zeke sat up eyes wide. Oh but his pupils were blown out with lust. Now if he would be so kind as to blow out your back. 

“Do you really mean it? I don't want to… Make you like me.” His eyes trailed your body hugging each curve and dip. 

“I think that's only if you bite me.” 

“I think that’s werewolves.” 

“Look, do you want to fuck me or no?” 

“Sweetcheeks I want to rail you until next week. But if you become a wereduck too, I don’t want you to resent me.” 

“That's very sweet but you said you would love me even as a worm and I think a wereduck is slightly better than a worm.”

“You make an excellent point.” He said pulling down his boxers.

A drunken thought rose to mind ‘spring sprong here comes the dong’ as the bright blue corkscrew sprang free. Already dripping in precum. Still kneeling between your legs, Zeke pulls your hips up against his thighs. Till your entrance is brushing against his member-exclusive dick. 

“Last chance.” Zeke’s fingers teasing apart your folds. 

“Hit it.” You confirmed. 

He moved slow, letting his tip slip in. Giving you time to adjust to it. Adding another inch as your moans died down. The feels of its twists and turns sliding home felt, well to be blunt like a fantasy dildo you had in box forgotten during your move. Zeke’s whimpering curses brought you back to the moment. 

“I’m going to move let me know if it's too much.” You nodded, sighing together at his first experimental thrust. 

He groaned, looking down at the place where he performed the twisted magic trick of disappearing part of his body. Pleasure raced down his back and into his ass. He could feel the tension already building up in his balls and prostate. 

“Babe I don’t think I can last long.” Gritting the words out as he tries to keep from spilling just at the feel of you surrounding him. 

“That ok, I just need to feel you cum.” 

Zeke looks down at you, face flushed with lust eyes glassy with it, and only for him. To be loved like this makes him feel complete. He gives in to the animalistic desire to drive his hips deep into you. To have you scream his name and to give you his special duck sauce. 

Zeke picks up his pace. The slide of his dick inside as it presses against your cervix only to pull back. Another orgasm is so close you can taste it. You whimper and pant rocking your hips against his frantic for you both to finish together. Zeke is sweating and swearing hair flopping in his face with each thrust. 

“Almost there.” You moan out. His hand slips between your legs finding your clit to rub in tight circles.

Its hits you then like a gut punch, rolling over like waves dragging you under. Zeke following at the first flutters of your pussy around him. A moan leaving him as he can feel the pulses of cum race up his dick like a fleshy rollercoaster at its zenith. Till you both are shivering twitching together. Zeke laces his hands in yours pulling you up into his lap, his half-hard cock still snug inside you. Sighs of contentment leaving you both. 

“Wait does this mean if you knock me up I'm going to lay eggs?”

“Well, duck.” Zeke cursed.

Final Note..... Honey, I'm so sorry you read this. Also if this seems familiar hello fellow Anigomi Patreon supporter.

#babbling.brook.writing #aot #snk #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #zeke yaeger #zeke x reader #zeke x you #zeke x y/n

[stigandr-the-cat]

Cursed Were-Animal Masterlist

First off I apologize so much for writing this. But also cackling with glee.

Eren - Summer of the Seagull (CRACK) (sfw) (dabble)

Zeke - What the Duck is Wrong With My Boyfriend? (CRACK) (nsfw) (dabble)

Grisha - For Every Turkey Longs to be a Cock (Chicken) (This is a hate crime against Grisha and Chickens.... and Turkeys.....)

#babbling.brook.writing

[stigandr-the-cat]

Devouring Love

A/N : Minors DNI. If I see you, you will be blocked. Contains themes of D / S dynamics. Not much in the way of spice, more focused on aftercare as well as mutual comfort and love. Reader is fully neutral in appearance.

Levi should have realized the first inkling of trouble when the soft tug of lips left his ear for the delicate skin just below. But the dizzying feeling spinning his head and boiling his insides felt like that most tender feeling of love and in the middle of a scene, it was intoxicating this new feeling. But now there are teeth and sucking, already he knows there will be the fresh bloom of a bruise. His hand knotted in his partner's hair pulling them closer slips free. Gripping their neck tight and pushing those silvered honey lips away. 

"I said no visible marks." He growls not so much frustrated as acting his part of the dominant.

"Sorry, sir." Their voice silk soft. Breath short from the slight squeeze of his fingers. The contrast of his ivory skin muscled and scared twitching against their own. Eyes half-lidded but he feels the pulse of lust between them.

He growls again. Thinking how he will have to try and cover it in the morning. Their eyes open fully and he watches the mask of bratty submission fall, his lover in true coming back to him.

"Levi? Did I go too far?" A warm hand trails up his back and over his shoulder to cup his cheek, shivering at the tender love.

"No baby, it's ok."

"Are you sure? I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd bruise so quickly."

"My love I would have used our safe word if it was too much." His own hand leaving the curve of their throat to rest on their cheek, a mirror in action.

"Sometimes I think you forget that." They murmur nuzzling into his palm kissing it.

It's true he wants to say. Never has sex offered him an out unless it was to decline the act. Even then the pushiness of some of his previous partners. Just because he dominates the screen the act doesn't mean he can't have his own limits. Till now no one has made sure to check in and offer comfort. Even the small act of making him tea while he changed the sheets after sex. Offering to wash his hair and back. Asking if it was good for him as well. It says 'i love you' and 'i value you' with different letters and words but he hears them all the same. It echoes in his chest.

"Brat, but it's ok your doing good. My good little brat." Tugging them close his lips just out of reach of a kiss. Letting them close the distance.

They do and he invades them like a man starved of love and he is. Devouring each scrap of kind smiles and sweet words of tender touches of holding hands and cuddling up for warmth. His partner gives it all to him, a fully devoted heart. He takes eating it, eating them whole. Tender kiss bruised flesh leaving behind love tucked safe behind his ribs. But in return he gives his own heart and devotion to them. Filling their heart like a well knowing it will sustain them both. He kisses like a man in love who knows heartache but feels it's outweighed by love when you give it wisely.

The hand on his cheek slips away, tracing down the path of his neck. It's nothing more than a feather kiss on the bruise but still, he winces at the touch. His lover pulls away. Levi opens his eyes to ask to demand they come back and let him devour them and the love they give so freely. But the concern in their eyes has him hesitating.

“You winced. I really did hurt you.”

“It's just a little bruise and it is fresh, pretty sure we’ve given each other worse before.” He watches a kiss swollen bottom lip pulled back and nibbled on, wanting nothing more than to replace those teeth with his own.

“Sure but Levi,” they sigh “you’ve never startled like that before.”

“I-” Levi stops how does he explain this?

When it’s true. He never has, a body built to take pain and pleasure like it's nothing. Years of fighting those dances with death and blood left his body numb till now. Where now under tender touch those dead scars feel new and raw and he aches for more. For nails to dig into his back as his love writhes beneath him mewling his name like the chant of prayer. For those same fingers to become silk when they put ointment on the marks they make. Those soft kisses climb down his back as he shivers feeling the guilt of a scene feeling too harsh shaken from him like dead leaves in winter.

“Let’s stop, for now. I want to really look at that bruise, then I can make us tea.” His lover lowers their hand to his chest over the wild drum of his heart that demands for them to climb inside and stay when so many have left.

“Are you sure? You're the one who pulled me here the second I walked in the door.” He tries to scoff but it comes out half-hearted.

“I did, but I’m fine with waiting for you. Unless you need to continue.”

Waiting for you, for him. It shouldn’t seem as much of a declaration of love screamed from rooftops as it does. It's the carving deeper of their name on his tree trunk heart but there is no blood. The pain though is more realization that this should have been what love was meant to be. Not the clawing in the dirt on broken knee blood in his eyes as it has been. Devotion isn’t supposed to be a war but a gentle collapse into warm welcoming arms.

“No, I’m fine.” Is what he gives in place of the dictionary that is inspired in his chest.

The tugging away of limbs called back to their owner as they separate. But linked still fingers that tug him to the bathroom. That stay linked as his lover kneels to grab the first aid kit. His body stiff, a growl rattling in his lungs that refuses to exhale. A retreating temptation of soft warmth around his aching need. Later, the kiss on his thigh promises.

They rise, eyes locking on his, and he finds he no longer remembers those that came before offering hearts made of briar. He has to let go and grip the counter to keep from losing his mind at the tenderness that is given him in those eyes. He should be long used to it now with the years they have given him of peace yet still he finds each day the walls of his past that have regrown again must be swallowed down again by a soft hand that hands him his perfect cup of tea. Eyes shutting against the onslaught of emotions that lashes in his gut.

“It doesn’t look too bad, but if you’re hurting at this you might be coming down with a cold.” Is the whispered words in his ear. “We don’t want that. You are going to drink some tea, share an orange or two, and we are going cuddle.”

A smile tugs at his lips. “Is that right?”

“Yep, Doctor’s orders.”

“Demanding brat.” He turns to the warmth, a hand dancing up to their hair as he tugs them closer for a kiss. A surprised squeak that becomes a delighted purr at the touch.

He finds himself being tugged again but this time towards the couch.

“I can,” He starts when hands wave him to sit.

“Sit down and relax? Yes, you can, I’ll make tea and cut up the fruit.”

“Brat.” but he relents as hands push at his chest till he is about to fall. The steel of his body breaking under the cotton of theirs.

“Yea but you love me.” Their voice a laugh as they walk away. “What do you think of that tea with the cacao nibs to go with the oranges?”

“Perfect.” Levi lets his body relax against the cushions.

It shouldn’t be as hard as it is to relax but he can feel the rebellion of his body grow as he tries. Closing his eyes again in hopes to quell what feels like agony to just relax. Water pours from the tap before the stove clicks on. A soft humming from his lover as they slice the oranges the citrus smell in the air. The whistle of the kettle. A clink of porcelain as spoonfuls of leaves fall into the teapot than the hiss of water that follows the same path. More clattering and humming as teapot and orange slices are put on a serving tray with their cups. The hum stops when they walk over. He wants to smile, they think him asleep.

“Still awake.” He says.

“How?” they huff a small laugh.

“I know you, my love.” He looks at them as they set down the tray, pulling the coffee table closer to the couch. He remembers that he should be annoyed at the cockeye but instead treats it like it's love a simple move to make it easier to reach.

“You do,” they concede. “Want me to be little or big spoon?”

It shouldn’t be this hard to answer. To let go of the desire to be able to have them where he can grab them with ease and pull them to his chest like his arms are chains that will keep them tied to him. When he knows by the new glint of silver on their finger that they already offered themself as more than a possession to be outgrown, but a partner to stay with each season till they both fall into the winter of their lives and even after walking with him into the eternal dark.

“Big.” He finally lets out as an exhale.

They hum puffing a pillow for their back against the arm. Handing him one of the many weighted blankets scattered around the house. Pulling him till he is back between their legs in a different kind of intimacy. One that feels more venerable than being on his knees hands wrapped around bare thighs, or on his back exposed hand over his eyes another twisting the sheets as his lover kisses and tugs till his body is shaking. This vulnerability is made of a soft chest he leans against, the weight of the blanket creeping up his chest, and the gasp he makes as kisses are pressed into the back of his neck.

“Brat.” he grits the word out, shivering.

“Sorry, sorry. Couldn’t resist.” Lips shaping and whispering the words against his skin. He lets his fingers dig into the soft thighs that bracket him.

“Thought you wanted me to rest, this feels more like an invitation to fuck you against the couch.” He growls out, wondering how much longer until he breaks and does just that.

They pull away. “Tea first, I know you like it hot.” He hears the smirk curling their still kiss-swollen lips.

“Brat.” But he sits up to pour the tea, handing them his mug and watching the shock and adoration play across their face. He smiles as they blink away tears. This is his own offering of love without words. Not lip service to what he feels but action. As he feeds them a slice of orange he watches as the devouring fire he gives to his lover is reflected in their eyes. The promised later speeding to the present. The can always be reheated.

#babbling.brook.writing #attack on titan #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #levi aot #last time this was posted it got nothing #fingers crossed this time it works

[stigandr-the-cat]

For Every Turkey Longs to be a Cock (Chicken)

pt 3 (final part) of the cursed were-animal series featuring the Yager boys.

Summary; I am so sorry

a/n: ........I hate Grisha ok? Read at your own risk. This is my creation of horrifying proportions. Minors be Gone, no smut just jokes but still.

Cursed Were-Animal Masterlist

Grisha Jaeger langished in a barren field. Wadling around looking for his flock, gobbling forlornly. But he had been turned out pushed away. Yet he couldn’t understand why. The cruelty of it. 

He had always been good to his fellow chickens hadn’t he? Screaming with the other cocks in the morning at first light. Pushing the hens around and doing his dance that he had seen the others preform attempting it himself with his graceless wings. Before attempting to mount the hen and give her his turkey gravy. Sure it hadn’t worked and he had never had a chick with his beloved hens. While the other cocks had strutted around so, so cockily the fathers of broods. While it was his mounful lot to be barren. He pretty sure he even killed one mate with his last attempt. Maybe that was why he had been driven from their sides. 

It wasn’t his fault he had been cursed with the oversized bulk of a turkey while in his heart he longed to be a cock. More then that here in the pale light of the moon his malformed body changed yet again back into being a man. He hated this form most of all. Had he not suffered enough injustice in this cruel dark world. To be born a man, when all he had ever longed for was the sweet life of a chicken. 

 It had started days ago when he had been a teenager. Blood and brain flooded with hormones and chemicals that made him ache. One night he had been rutting in the straw trying to find some release some control over his body when one of the family hens Carla had softly clucked over to his side. He had forgotten to lock the gate after feeding the chickens. She had wandered over looking for extra kernels of food. Yet in her eyes he saw so much more then just a desire for food. He saw that in their black depths was kindness and empathy for his situation. Her beak pecked his thigh and it felt like comfort and love. 

Breaking down into tears he hugged to bird to his chest sobbing into her feathers while she pecked away at his hair. Was she looking for bugs or comforting him against the darkness of the world around him? He always believed in her pure golden heart. From that moment he had vowed to find a way to change himself so he could be with her forever. 

Google had been a surprising help in that endeavor. Apparently were-animals were a common enough occurrence. But so many longed for the hair and bulk of were-wolves, the sight of their flashing teeth offering to help whoever payed them become just like them with their half ripped tank tops hair pouring out of each pore of their bodies. Or were-cats with graceful aches of limbs offering to help you fulfill your wildest dreams stretching lazily in sunbeam covered floors. He turned away in disgust. Unable to look at this beasts that would never understand the longing in his heart. 

Finally he had found an add that clicked for him. It was simple, just a message on a chat board. 

Looking for farm were-animals or those looking to join. Contact old MacDonald1945 

Oh how excitement had coursed though him as he finally, finally might have found a way to be with his beloved Carla. Quick messages where exchanged with the farmer. Tomorrow he would be able to start his new life. 

He left in the dead of night taking his beloved bird with him. A note for his parents saying he was going to a better place to be with the woman he loved. When he had arrived he was greeted by a man with dead fish eyes who said his name was Farmer Magrath. 

Grisha had signed paperwork that gave the famer, no his master total control of his body and fate. It had made him smile as he looked over at Carla, it was his wedding vows to her. Magrath smiled, and pointed Grisha into a stall. 

“Just wait for the pecker to get you and then you will be transformed.”

Removing his clothes and folding them he wait naked in the straw covered stall. Only to hear the sound of a gobble? But that couldn’t be right. Chickens would never make such an inelligant sound. Thats when he realized with a sudden fear gripping his heart that he wasn’t alone in the stall. A horribly ugly turkey waited for him on the other side. 

“Magrath! There has been a mistake please let me out. I’m supposed to be with a chicken.” 

“No mistake sonny, I have enough chickens but I need another turkey.”

“But you said, you said I could be a chicken.” 

“Didn’t you look at the contract you signed? I’m the master of your fate. And what I say is you are to be a turkey.”

“But Carla! Were to be together please I beg you reconsider.”

“Oh that thing? She will make a nice pot pie for my guests tonight.” 

“What?” Fear stuck him into stillness. A sharp pain pierced his thigh. Looking down the cursed turkey had stuck him in the same place as Carla had not even two night previous intrigued by the bruise on his thigh. 

Agony of both body and soul ripped though him. His body cracking and shifting, feathers bursting from his flesh has his bones cracked and shrank. Skin loosening around his neck becoming a waddle. His legs… didn’t have to get much skinnier but they did shrink and that hurt. But so much more painful was Magrath’s last words to him. Not only would he love of Carla his beloved hen remain star-crossed with him being a turkey but Magrath was planning on turning her into pie! He couldn’t scream couldn’t fight. Only gobble and waddle pecking at the gate hoping for one last glance at his beloved. 

That was 3 days ago. Now here he was languishing in the end his last moments of Carla was the smell coming from the kitchen next to his new yard. She smelled delicious, he only wished he had gotten a taste. 

He couldn’t escape the farm, where could he go? Twice cursed and love long dead there was no point anymore. Clouds covered over the moon, his body twisting again back into the bulk of the turkey. He looked around again for the flock but they were no where to be found. Rain began to fall. As if the sky was mourning his wicked fate with him. If only it would have mercy on him and let him rejoin his beloved Carla in that yard in the sky, in his true form as a chicken. No as her cock. Looking up to the sky he opened his mouth captivated by the dark sky. Hoping it would hear his silent plea. 

Final Note: Again I am so sorry.

#babbling.brook.writing #grisha yeager #grisha jaeger

[stigandr-the-cat]

About the Author - Read before interacting

Writing 

Book Reviews

Personal 

#heart.of.the.forest #babbling.brook.writing #personal.glade

[stigandr-the-cat]

Babbling Brook Writing

Note, each story will be label with a genre as well if it's a story or a dabble and spicy or not

Attack on Titan 

Erwin 

Recovery (bittersweet) (dabble)

Levi

Devouring Love (sweet) (dabble) (spicy-ish)

Reiner 

Childhood Lost (bittersweet) (dabble)

Spun Sugar of New Yearning (meet-cute) (story) (spicy-ish)

Zeke 

Where the Sun don’t Shine (comedy) (story)

Cursed Were-Animal Masterlist (comedy) (dabble) (sfw/nsfw)

My Hero Academia 

Keigo Takami

Kisses  (sweet) (dabble) 

Call of Duty

What Crawls In the Night Masterlist

Simon 'Ghost' Reily

Ghost of the Garage (sweet) (dabble) (ooc maybe?) (I don't know man I just got dropped here like a ruby dixion character)

Butcher and the Beauty (dabble) (violent not against the reader)

#heart.of.the.forest #babbling.brook.writing

[stigandr-the-cat]

Tonight, it is peaceful. The rain coming down outside is soft on the grass and branches a reminder that spring is near. The cup of tea is warm enough for hands and kitty sniffs. The cat is purring nearly asleep as he uses my thigh as a pillow. All I can think in this moment is I have won, I have made it. The day will bring trials and anxiety, but here in the dark, there is peace where there once was only the silence between screams. One day, there will be peace in the light as well, but I will take it in the dark.

#babbling.brook.writing

[stigandr-the-cat]

Recovery

New Brainrot because seeing Erwin with a beard and laughing semi-delusional at the beginning of season 3 made me drop my avocado toast before going to chug a gallon of water to quench my thirst. Don't read into that it’s a twisted dark path in my head that no one needs to see. Lack of capitalization and grammar intended, because English is a trash language.

Erwin can't stop thinking, even with the pain and the drugs numbing his body turning his eyes cross. His mind still paces as a stallion left too long in its stall. He longs to let it free and soar above with his scouts. Even Levi with his dower expression is having a hard time keeping him down. Both of them broken men in so many ways who won't back down even with clipped wings. It's Hange in all their wisdom who suggests that Erwin see if the local library can lend them someone to read to him. Something to distract the racing thoughts.

That is where you come in with family histories, battle reports, and books on tactics. You are used to reading to the local children fairy tales, yet you have been tasked with reading to the commander of the scouts whatever he requests. When you first see him sitting up in bed one sleeve hanging empty breath stutters in your chest. For you, injury amounts to papercuts and stories of accidents from the farmers or other craftspeople in the city. Levi squints daring you to say anything rash. Erwin smiles apologetically for his attack dog.  Shaking your head to gather the scattering of thoughts bouncing in your head like rain before smiling back a sunbeam breaking through the clouds. When he asks you to read one of the oldest books on his shelves, some history about the first commander of the scouts. It takes a while to adjust your voice and tone normally set for light-hearted tales to a history written in the blood of those who died to learn paltry scraps of information. There is a heavy weight that settles in your chest reading it. The other two notice it long before you would admit it. Erwin is the one who asks you to stop as Levi offers to get you some tea. As the door closes behind him, Erwin talks to you softly asking you about bright things. Trinkets that shine in the windows of your soul.

That’s how he falls asleep, listen to you excitedly tell him about a local child who you have been teaching how to read and write. Your voice goes soft when he drifts to sleep. Your heart warming as you stand and tug blankets around him. Tucking pillows behind his head gently nudging him down so he won't wake up with knots in his neck. Maternal actions that make long-buried memories of a mother who died before a clear memory of her could form surface, but the kindness and smell of lavender remains. So you still stay this time reading a book of your choosing. Smiling when Levi returns offering him a book from a heavy bag the library had given you. Levi declines leaving the tea and the two of you alone going back to his squad. A silent word of thanks in his eyes that you decided to stay.

When you finally leave as the sun disappears behind the walls, just enough light is left to navigate home. A written promise to return, sealed with a gentle caress of your thumb across the back of the sleeping man's hand. Erwin wakes as the door closes and reads the note the lingering feel of you in the air. It's the smell of old paper, leather, and anise wrapped around him like comfort. Your promise of return sending a long-forgotten thrilling spark in his chest. Different from the high he has chased in the clouds beyond the walls yet still he can feel the wind call his name with your voice.

Days have passed much the same as the first. Yet now you can read the reports of the carrion birds of the past. Erwin wonders if that means you have lost a last vestige of innocence and it aches. Even in hell, he would protect you from the rivers of blood that have been poured what is almost certainly in vain. Yet he still feels your gentle fingers across his forehead as a nightmare chases him. Hears the kindness in your voice as you read to him and speak to Hange, Levi, and any other who would come to his door. He sees your shy smile as you bring back tea and food. He devours how you listen to his theories poking them with sticks till you both render them solid. He knows time is short for him, especially with these new revelations that flash bright like titan lightning before standing so tall as to block out the sun. He would protect you from those who would hurt you to learn what he knows. Still, the idea of cutting you out of his life has his selfish heart that so desperately wants to live slamming and raging against the cage he puts it in.

This night you are the one who falls asleep, how you managed to do so in that chair and while reading no less he doesn't know. Now he stands before you for the first time wishing he still was whole. He leans down arm wrapping around your waist pulling you to his chest. Your soft murmurs of questioning protest has the selfish heart breaking down the cage, fire burning down his spine. The feeble struggles of sleep-heavy limbs that don't coordinate with his desires to have you sleep in a bed. So he whispers just enough to hopefully rouse the slightest bit of your conscious mind. He smiles at your blurry eyes, mind trapped in a haze of sleep more convinced that this perfect moment is a dream. He pulls you gently to bed before easing you down upon it. Tucking you in with as much care as you showed him not so long ago. As he tries to turn to go and sleep in the chair you had tried to convince yourself was a bed he is stopped by a soft hand clinging to the tail of his shirt. Words slur like honey that you can share, the bed is big enough for two he is still recovering and need to sleep properly. He can feel the heat rise breaking those last resisting bars of the cage. It is the sin of selfishness that guides him. Still, you let him gorge himself on the feel of your body curling against his. Hands balling his shirt, head pressed just above the traitorous heart. A huff of contentment as sleep reclaims you for this night the words 'love you' slipping into his heart.

Erwin is left in shocked awe at the ease with which you hand yourself over to him. Head spinning with the feel of your body pressed against his, your scent not just lingering but filling him. His life goal has ever been to push humanity forward as its spear. But for tonight in this tender moment with the stars as the own witness, he lets it all fall away. Let the only rule be the exhale of contentment from his lungs as his body relaxes into the hold you have over him. At this moment you are the divine with him as supplicant. Yet you are the one who hands all they are over at his prayers written on the small of your back with his open palm and splayed fingers. He soaks in the light you shine upon him before sleep claims him. For tonight there is no pain or lingering regrets.

When light hits your eyes causing you to shift away from the minor annoyance you realize there is something bittersweet in waking. Erwin's arm still presses you to his chest. Even as his eyes twitch open a smile bright as the morning sun dancing on those lips you've been staring at for too long. Before you can even think to scramble away with apologies tumbling, Erwin's grip is pulling you closer and he is whispering how sweet it is to wake up to your beauty. Before you can gasp or process his words there is a knock on the door and Levi is coming in with tea. His steel eyes rolling as he speaks about how finally Erwin got the librarian, he won't shut up about to stay with him. Hopefully, you both can stop making cow eyes at each other like love-struck fools and actually get some work done. Before you can even offer a word in protest or question Erwin is shifting you both, kissing the top of your head hiding his own apologies, and question if you two can talk about this later in your hair. Hiding your heated face in his chest your press your reply in the form of kisses into the exposed skin.

#This man is an honorary dilf #so it works #because you know fathers day #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #erwin smith #erwin fluff #erwin x y/n #erwin x reader #babbling.brook.writing #heart.of.the.forest