Visit Blog
Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.
#they both be going feral
redrobin-detective · a month ago
Danny Phantom AU where Vlad isn’t a half ghost but some vampire mix. Maybe he was out hunting ghosts with Jack and Maddie late one night and he got bitten by a vampire. He was forced to drop out of school due to his affliction and became incredibly bitter when Jack and Maddie left him behind and got married. While not as obsessive as a ghost, Vlad is incredibly vindictive and petty. He hunts at night, sleeps in the day (in a bed, thank you, its not the 18th century) and plots his revenge.
Imagine his surprise when he hosts the reunion and finds his rivals have accidentally made their son into a human/ghost hybrid. Vlad has some knowledge of ghosts but overall doesn’t know how they operate. Thus Danny and Vlad’s entire relationship is the kinship of being weird semi-supernatural beings trying to have human lives while also totally misunderstanding the other.
257 notes · View notes
spielzeugkaiser · 2 months ago
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
@ineffable-monster-romancer that ask is old, but it never left me! Just them being human, but while cha-cha sliding a bit to the left. Geralt has spent most of his years with the minimum of interaction with humans and while Jaskier has lived with them throughout his life, he is at times even worse, because he just forgets that he isn’t the standard. And while peoples reaction to Geralt is often quite instinctual, with Jaskier who let’s his guard down it’s so much worse: Cause your eyes say ‘adorkable bard, harmless’ and your hindbrain screams p r e d a t o r.
1K notes · View notes
fatefaulted · 3 months ago
random things i think abt: 
ya know rowan only had three freaking years with her son b4 she died? like she was basically wasting away within the first pretty important yrs of her child’s life. couldn’t play with him or, especially in the worst of it, couldn’t even hold him outside of holding while she was bedridden. 
this woman went through so. fucking. much. her mom dies. she chooses to stay and fight in the war. the man she’s betrothed to, who she admires beyond others, falls in love with someone else. and when she finally, FINALLY, accepts that and grows to love someone who sees, accepts and adores her for who she is; she has to give them up for the better of ‘king and country’. eventually they find some level of love for each other again, she has a son.... and in three years, she’s just gone.... like tf?!
fuking a there was so much to her but, like katriel, she was basically just a segway, a footnote even, for the epic tales and hardships of the men around her.
     ...... i fuking hate it here sometimes :|
2 notes · View notes
eluvion · 3 months ago
22 notes · View notes
triumphdivision · 7 months ago
37 notes · View notes
in-tua-deep · 8 months ago
Hey. I’m not feeling the best right now. Can w I get some Ben and Five headcannons?
oh no !! I hope you feel better soon :(
Five and Ben were pretty close when they were younger which means that Five knows that Ben was a little shit
He might have the likes of Diego and Luther fooled but Five absolutely knows. He knows how much Ben could actually shit talk. He knows that Ben was not an innocent
Whenever Five irritated Ben too much, Ben would frame him for something. Sometimes this would manifest in an academy wide prank war which would inevitably end up in punishments from Reginald that everyone would blame Five for. Five. And no one would would ever believe him that sweet, quiet, wonderful Ben would start this sort of shit
Five fucking knows okay
However Ben was also like, the only intelligent conversation that Five ever actually had on the team so like, it’s not like he can just drop Ben (even though he knows what he did) because who else is he supposed to share looks with over Luther’s boneheaded plans with? Allison? As if Allison would ever admit Luther was being an absolute idiot
They had the silent understanding that Ben could be as much of a sarcastic shit as he wanted and in return Ben would let Five rant about temporal physics and complex mathematics and actually ask intelligent questions which occasionally led to breakthroughs
“It’s not my fault you can’t hide your own assholeness.” Ben informs Five with a straight face after Luther yelled at Five for three hours after Five rightfully informed their number one that it was actually Ben not Five who put dye on his toothbrush that turned his teeth green
Five mouths ‘I am going to destroy you’ to Ben across the breakfast table and Ben just serenely asks Klaus if he finished the math homework for their lessons today like Five doesn’t even exist
Five is twelve when he realizes that Ben is actually the devil
But actually he really admires it
Even if the way he realizes it is because Ben turns big eyes on Diego and says that Five was being mean to him, which almost gets Five a knife in the arm
(Five returns Ben’s stupid book of octopus facts, he didn’t even want the stupid thing he just stole it to get back at Ben for stealing his good umbrella jacket... yes he can tell shut the fuck up allison)
“I’m going to time travel.” “No you aren’t.” “You want to bet?” “Five. Five. We have been going over the equations for literal weeks. Did you even figure out the prime issue?” “Shut your mouth.” “Knew it.”
And Five does time travel and his second thought after “What the fuck” is “fucking Ben was right and can never know”
okay admittedly there’s a lot of apocalypse trauma and he finds the bodies of his siblings and then finds out that Ben died young and he’s just. there’s a lot going on okay
and then he travels back and ben is still dead and he’s kind of like... he can’t not save Ben but he’s got to make sure there’s a future or whatever to go to when he travels back in time and snags his brother up or whatever
except then Klaus summons Ben and well
“You asshole!” Five howls, pointing accusingly
Klaus is vindicated
“You can’t talk like that to Ben.” Diego says firmly, as though the time all of his knives were superglued to his harness wasn’t all Ben’s fault. As though that time wasn’t blamed on Five. 
“No, no, let him speak.” Klaus says, like a man who has been forced to be the only recipient of Ben’s sarcasm and sass for a great number of years.
Ben has been dead and invisible for a long time and no longer gives a single solitary fuck about what his family thinks of him tbh, and with Klaus clean(er) and a lowkey grudge against Luther (because come on Luther, Ben was rooting for you we were all rooting for you)
“How did none of you ever notice that I ‘acted out’ whenever one of y’all ended up peer pressuring Ben into using his powers.” Five grits out, because his family is filled with fucking idiots.
“In fairness,” Ben says with his arms crossed and a frankly unimpressed look on his face, “I also did it whenever you were being especially asshole-ish. Which was with great frequency.”
“I’m going to murder you in your sleep.” Five hisses.
“Missed that opportunity by a large margin, baby bro.” 
and then Five screams with all his feral rage and tries to attack Ben because he isn’t often corporeal and he doesn’t want to miss the chance
Except Ben catches him in a hug and Five just freezes like a kitten who gets put in a cat harness for the first time and it’s great
“Oh my god I’m just now realizing why Ben and Five got along so well.”  - says every siblings with a braincell who has the sense to fear a Five and Ben team up
The first time that Five manages to frame Ben for something feels like fucking vindication
vindication, Ben
227 notes · View notes
shadybisexual · 9 months ago
You guys ever just sit and imagine how awesome it would be if they gave us werewolves in sims 4??
#i had an epic family rivalry and romeo and juliet story between the vampire family and the werewolf family#there were so many elements to it#the vampire mom started out as a human and the vampire dad basically terrorized her and made her think she was losing it#it was a good generation before they had kids or even slept in the same bed#when their eldest daughter fell in love with the oldest werewolf son the vampire dad was about to go attack them but#the vampire mom was like you said you would give me anything i asked for as an apology for how you turned me and#i have never asked you for anything#but i ask you now to let my daughter be in love and support them both#and he wanted to throw a fit but as a high ranking court vampire his word is his bond#and the werewolf family mom was a witch and had a deal that their sons would be wolves but she got the daughters for the craft#and it legit worked out for the first three kids#but then she had triplets and the girls were werewolves and the son was a witch#and the girls loved going feral and so them staying wolves and the eldest son being a damn decent werewolf himself meant the dad was like#alright marry your leech i dont care i have two extra wolves in our pack so im good#but he was gonna forcibly change the youngest son even tho the son loved magic and wanted to stay a witch#the eldest daughter who was named after hecate went apeshit and stole her brother and went on the run with him#and the mom erased all memory of those two children from her husbands mind because she was hella rad#i know half this shit isnt possible in the sims 3 but i haD A STORYLINE
1 note · View note
hollyhomburg · a year ago
BYE now I have a lactation kink like the little smut for Viking!packtan and the reader calling joon a puppy alpha bc he was so eager - wow that shit was 🥵🥵
joon might be pack alpha but he’s a 👅💦 just like jungkook in this au
honestly I think the only alpha not into it is hoseok, who along with the betas can kinda take or leave the experience, though tae is a little into it sometimes in the morning kinda noses at the front of yours or Jimin's shirt and just wants to suckle kinda gently- and if there's milk in his mouth after then there is and he dosent mind. and the omegas are kinda like “yeah we’ve all been there it can be mad uncomfortable” but oh shit- why did i just get the image of like- wait this should be hidden in the tags 
152 notes · View notes
goldpilot22 · a year ago
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
oh also some mspaint doodles of some ocs. that's specifically tma au sterling, but the others could be that or canon, since i haven't come up with au designs for them yet.
#psii.txt#my art#my ocs#sterling#lyric#lysander#lysterling tma au#you can tell it's tma au sterling bc the going feral thing#lysander's hair is more of a whitish/ash blond but mspaint didn't have a close enough color so i just made the yellow lighter#the yellow blond color rly clashes with his armor lmao#ok to rb#also im Considering changing lysander's hairstyle but idk what to#they wouldn't look right with short hair but they don't like just long hair#and an undercut type thing might be too similar to sterling's hairstyle#or maybe not actually#lys' whole look is kind of.. they look strong n dangerous but in a stiff and controlled way#but she actually is not that stiff and controlled she tends to let her emotions get the best of her esp when stuff gets happening#and underneath hes rly actually Soft Tm#yknow that one drawing ive done of lys and sterling just cuddling? yknow how in the tma au they're holding hands at every opportunity? yeah#it takes both of them a while to get comfortable with showing [and receiving] love and kindness but when they do they Really do#their story is about getting better. about learning to forgive yourself for things out of your control#ok im rambling now but. i like writing characters who Get Better. who've been hurt and had bad things happen to them and had to Do bad#things but then Good things start happening and they find a life they can love and people who love them#i just. cries. i fucking love my ocs ok i think stories where Things Get Better are very important#maybe the point of a lot of my writings is just. hold on. things will be ok someday. it will get better.#something im not always sure i can believe. but maybe thats why i write it#fuck i should post the rest of what ive written for the au
1 note · View note
rjshepherd · 3 hours ago
I need more submissive karl in heat 👀 with the same partner from before. Maybe their first time being exposed to karl in such a state? Let The Service Top Shine And Praise The Good Boy
ok its spicy under the read more as usual lads
- so im not a HUGE fan of making people, particularly abused men with agency into little UWU helpless baby subs when it comes to sex.
but that being said
karl is a little helpless when it comes to heats. They come on so strong and he is still a human, unlike the lycans. he’s just not equipped to deal with so many hormones flooding his body at once, even after having heats by years. he sort of just. malfunctions. Can't do things that yesterday he could do with ease, struggles with basic tasks because he's out of his mind with fever and horny. i don't know if id say "he needs an adult" but he def needs someone sober and not lust drunk to keep him out of trouble and remind him to eat.
- this submissiveness is absolutely not by choice. were it up to him he'd keep the bravado even when bottoming. He forces himself to keep going, pretend hes not having this kind of heat until he literally collapses with either fever or exhaustion and is usually just stuck lying where he fell until a lycan comes across him or the heat wears off. its a little different with you around but either way, hes not happy about this situation and he's sure as hell going to let you know about it.
- He cant take care of this himself so he's dependent on you. but that doesn't mean he's a patient man. i always say he's a bottom but he's not the most submissive person alive. there's a lot of "hurry up and fuck me already" or " get moving i cant wait any longer". its a cross between demanding and begging. if he can move without too much pain, he likes to top from the bottom if you know what i mean.
- i think the first time you came across him like this was different. You had NO IDEA what to expect and probably didn't even realise he was in such pain because he was so adept at hiding. now days you can tell, maybe even have a calendar so you can prep a few days before. but the first time was an absolute shit show. i can see it happening in a few different scenarios, you can choose which one you like best:
1. Karl wanders into the lycans den, desperate for some relief from his heat. the hormones have him almost floating towards the other infected like a loonytoons character smelling food, hes powerless to stop its pull on him. after a few hours of searching you finally find him in the lycans den, looking bloodied, like he's been in a fight. You dont know it until later, but that's just how lycans mate. there's no difference between fighting and fucking for them and this is how karl as been dealing with things for years. You freak out, dragging his semi-conscious ass from the bottom of the lycan pile and back to the factory to patch him up. When he finally comes to he's almost feral; he's having trouble making coherent sentences, body freaking out because he's not surrounded by the scent of the lycans. Feverish and painfully aroused in seconds he tries to shy away, get up and go back to the lycans but he's just too weak. He tries to hide his embarrassment from you as he spreads his legs, making a space for you between them. i see a smile creep onto your face as you realise what he's asking you to do for him. Imagine his surprise when you do actually clamber onto his bed whispering sweet nothings "dont worry darling, im here now. ill take care of you."
2. after a few days of just avoiding you, snapping at you and generally being a grumpy unlikeable fuck you both crack. You get upset first and that sets off karl. Hes shouting and shaking and finally he just slides down the wall, too tired to put up a fight anymore. before you know it he's angry crying from the stress of it all and finally just tells you whats wrong: he's harder than a slab of concrete and needs you, just you, to fuck him so he can finally get some peace. sitting on the floor of the bathroom or something it's hard not to see the tenting in his jeans " that looks painful." you mutter " want your alpha to take care of you?" you offer.
Karl whimpers, hand flying to his mouth to stifle the sound. EVENTUALLY he nods, letting you know he's game "good boy" you murmur crouching down in front of him . just your words had such an effect on him? he must be really suffering. so why didn't he just ask? pride probably. maybe he was embarrassed that you or your scent affected him so much. you're just a tiny uninfected human how can you have such influence over the most powerful lord in the village?
having you crouch there, gazing right through his tough facade is doing things to him. He's a little hesitant at first, spreading his legs or bending over to present himself to you. but it's such a sweet gesture, who are you to deny him? you literally fuck him into the floor where he fell, in the middle of the factory where anyone could see. maybe he uses his powers to help you lift him up so you can fuck him against the wall. he's taking most of his weight but he's acting like its all you, clinging to you for dear life as you rock his world. don't forget to praise him as you go, he is your good boy after all.
3. karl wakes up besides you with the worst heat he's ever had. His scent doesn't actually affect you but yours is REALLY affecting him. you can definitely smell his, regardless. If this is how strong it is for you, it must be absolutely MADDENING for poor karl. it's like a fog that's filled the whole room. Karl is almost incoherent with lust, able to do little more than whimper and beg for you to help him out. how you've come around to becoming the alpha's alpha is beyond you, but you aren't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
His hands are already down the front of his shorts, desperately trying to find some relief for himself but he just cant . He's dropped all pretense of shyness or embarrassment; he just doesnt care at all right now. you have a little chuckle to yourself "so shameless." you laugh , leaning over him. you inhale deeply running your tongue along the shell of his ear. Karl shudders "a-are you going to help me or not?" he huffs, eyes clenched shut . You answer his question by clamping your teeth down on his neck. Karl keens, back arching in pleasure but its not enough to push him over the edge. you slap his hands away to take care of him yourself. He's hopeless when he's like this. "you keep forgetting darling." you say as you sooth the bite with a kiss " no one can touch you like i can." i think this is one of the few times Karl ever submits to you completely : He needs you but he doesn't just want you to bred him, no, he wants to be yours, wants you to mark him for the whole pack to see. you have a blank cheque for mayhem. Make as much of a mess of Karl as you want, cover him in bites and kisses from head to toe, fuck him so hard he can't sit down for days or love him so gently he clings to you and cries in joy when he finally finds relief from this heat. He's yours now, you can do whatever you want with him ~
in the days after , karl is walking around with a love drunk expression, black and blue from bites and hickeys but happier than he's been in weeks. The other lords might raise a few eyebrows but as long as you two are together ,who cares what they think?
there you go nonnie, i enjoyed this IMMENSELY. in fact i genuinely might take all 3 of these scenarios and write some ftm or pegging specific reader x karl stuff. its good shit and since ive fleshed it out here half the work is done already lmao. theres a lot of karl fics out there rn but theyre all top, macho karl taking care of the reader ( which is great dont get me wrong) but i like to cater to a different audience ~
37 notes · View notes
heel-rollins · 8 hours ago
shiiiiiit if you’re still taking requests for headcanons could you do mjf breeding kink headcanons?👀
oooooooh 👀👀
max loves cumming anywhere he can; on your face and tits after a titjob, down your throat while he’s forcing you to gag on it
but especially cumming inside of you
something about the idea of you begging for him to give you load after load makes him feral
he definitely would go round after round, making sure you’d have a reminder of that night in some way shape or form
would have your face pinned down to the mattress while he’s pounding into you, leaving bright red handprints on his ass.
“ohh fuck doll. you look so good. taking my cock like this. who’s my good little slut?”
after hes cum in you, he loves to pull out slowly so he can see it drip down your thighs.
afterwards he’d hold you until you both fell asleep, whispering sweet nothings in your ear
“you did so good for me baby, you okay? need me to run you a bath?”
3 notes · View notes
darthsuki · 8 hours ago
I found you again after many years of lurking in the shadows and have found you are a person of fine tastes. //gestures to the exarch. Are you on the crystal dc? I'm on diabolos and would love to play with you my dude. Show me your wol, pls. I wish to meet them and in return I will show you my feral dragon and her tired brother. :3c
Though I mainly stick to Aether, I have started playing some alts over on Crystal! :D And please do show me your dergens, I would love to see them ;w;
These fine Assorted Gremlins™ are my WoLs/OCs whom I love very much despite the fact that I’m convinced they share 2 brain cells at best between the five of them. 
Tumblr media
From left to right:
Kai Kugane (kuganebrothers) - The younger of the Kugane brothers, causes problems On Purpose™ by way of various felonies and is the one most likely to steal all the blankets at night if you’re in the same bed as him.
R’avi Nunh (ravinunh) - One of two co-Nunhs of a subset of the R tribe in Thanalan. Drinks his respect women juice and is like 90% himbo, but will fiercely protect protect his family with his skills in black magic.
Rakuyo Kugane (kuganebrothers) - The older of the Kugane brothers. Responsible and polite (unlike Kai) and is the one to often get his younger brother out of trouble. Will happily let you steal all the blankets.
Samilen Jawantal (samilenjawantal) - My first and softest character for FFXIV. He is selectively mute and deals with issues of PTSD from the Calamity, but has found a fantastic love of carpentry and botany. Deserves lots of hugs.
Khalja Kahkol-Dotharl (khaljakahkol) - The stoic flirt with an unmatched wanderlust. Probably the least traumatized of all of them, but has some trust issues to work out first, primarily with himself.
A couple more characters below who aren’t as developed or don’t quite fit the Shenanigans Team yet:
Tumblr media
Dhaz is just your local wandering male viera who likes to go wherever the fickle whims of fate takes him (little does he know that is, in fact, the echo). He's extremely laid-back and tends to make friends fairly easily - just feed him and he's happy to listen to your stories and woes alike. But don't let his gentle demeanor fool you; he may be a viera, but he watches people like a wolf.
Tumblr media
Daniel Van Heler, Limsan native and well-to-do man who is both a romantic at heart and an author of romance. Recent moons have put the man on the deck of the Misery, a ship among the Kraken's Arms, so he can understand how to write the next book in his series about pirates. While stuck on the ship for a voyage bound for Kugane, he has found himself both terribly in love with its captain (Carvallain) and terribly afraid of the ocean - hilariously, it's the former that he's more worried about.
Tumblr media
Rysstyle Merlskyf is the black sheep of his kin, though it's not that hard when he is the adopted son of a rather well-off merchant family in Ul'dah. A family of lalafell, that is. Though he'd gotten himself into a bit of trouble through his teenage years, Rysstyle is nothing if not fiercely loyal to his loved once’s, and wants nothing more than to see the buisiness boom and himself settle down with a family of his own.
4 notes · View notes
magnetosthunderthighs · 9 hours ago
Tumblr media
Fandom: X-Men: Evolution Crossposted on AO3: [here] Pairing: Erik Lehnsherr/Female OC Wordcount: 3,951 Chapter Warning: Past/flashback gang rape. Summary: How best to capture vermin?
Losing a Bet Snared - Chapter 4
Moxie didn’t know what to expect the first time Magneto’s Acolytes moved to a new safehouse. They did it so quickly... They mentioned they were leaving, but not for where, and when Moxie returned from the woods with a vole in her mouth, rich blood dripping down her throat, they were already half packed.
It was Sabretooth who sniffed her out, turning to look her over. She wondered if all feral mutants had the same golden eyes — she, Todd, and Sabretooth certainly did. She hoped to meet others, someday.
“Well?” Sabretooth snapped, impatient. “You coming?!”
She discarded the vole. There wasn’t enough time to wrench meat off the bone and feed herself. She scurried to where she’d hidden her things, transformed into her two-legged body, and pulled her stolen sundress, her sandals on. Then she climbed into the overlarge truck that hadn’t been parked before the Brotherhood house yesterday. It didn’t matter where they were going, so long as they did not leave her behind.
“Nuh-uh,” Sabretooth protested as he again emerged from the house, arms full of boxes. He pointed a claw at the bed of the truck. “That’s where you go. No room for you in here.”
Moxie didn’t question him. She slid out of the truck, walked around, and climbed into the bed, wedging herself between crates and furniture and the bungee cords strapping them down. The less of a nuisance she made herself, the more likely the Acolytes were to continue tolerating her presence.
Gambit and Pyro crammed into the truck amongst all the boxes, leaving Moxie to assume Colossus and Magneto must be taking different transportation. It was more comfortable to transform, to lay her smaller body on the soft cushion of the sundress, tucked safely between a mattress and a wooden crate.
Sabretooth started the truck up, backing out of the driveway. Moxie curled up, tucking her tail over her paws, and prepared for a long ride.
The first three hours of highway were uneventful. They parked at a rest-stop to pee (Moxie hopped from the bed to squat behind the tire; Gambit tossed a sandwich and a bottled water her way), and then it was back to the road. The muffled music from the body of the truck synced into a pleasant rhythm. The hilly east coast scenery whipping by was pretty; all evergreens and tiny lakes.
Border crossing for Canada was surprising. Moxie had never left the country before. She hid deeper in the boxes when patrol glanced over at her. “Cute dog,” he told Sabretooth, returning his fake passport. Gambit, sunglasses hiding his hellfire eyes, pretended to sleep.
Another hour of driving, and they met with Magneto and Colossus in a blocked-off tunnel, where they ditched the truck (Moxie watched, wide-eyed, as Magneto used his powers to gently change the VIN and the digits on the license plate), before loading themselves and their things into two flatbed trucks, both dirty and battered and therefore invisible. With a snap of his fingers, Pyro burned their fake passports to ash, and Magneto divvied out new ones.
“Change,” he told Moxie, waving a passport, a small purse, at her. “Our new hosts are expecting a girl.”
Moxie changed, quick to slip the dress over her head, the sandals on her dirty feet, and approached to take on the new identity offered to her. Apparently she was now a nineteen-year-old Canadian named Ruth Hartman. When had Magneto snapped this photo of her?
Magneto looked her over. As always, when he looked at her, she felt grubby; inadequate. “Fix your hair, at least,” he sighed. “There should be a comb in the purse.”
She rode in one truck with Magneto and Gambit, self-consciously picking at tangles with the pointy end of her comb. Magneto debriefed them as he drove. “To the owners of the warehouse we’re taking, I’m a newly retired author looking to flip offices into homes with the companionship of my daughter and her boyfriend. Our employees are in the truck behind us; they take charge of manual labor.”
“Daughter?” Moxie cocked her head.
“Well, why else would a young woman like yourself be traveling with a rough group of men? Just stay in the car, and she won’t see your legs. You’re shy, remember; your boyfriend can do all the talking.”
Though she couldn’t see his face from where she sat, Moxie wondered if she was imagining the tinge of amusement in his voice.
Gambit, too, looked as though he wanted to tease, but didn’t know her well enough to try it. “Such a lucky man am I,” he finally settled on. “To have such a fair maiden on my arm.”
Moxie snorted. The comb, snarled in her hair, snapped into two pieces. She plucked a small twig out of her hair and flicked it out the truck window. She wondered if there was still some blood from the vole on her face.
Their warehouse, as it turned out, manufactured bath products before going out of business. The lot smelled to Moxie and Sabretooth’s sensitive noses like a floral hell. He flinched back in the other truck as they approached. Moxie instinctively pressed both hands over her mouth and nose. “Ugh!”
She couldn’t come within ten feet of the building, which she suspected might become a problem, if she was supposed to live there. All the fans in the world couldn’t air that monstrosity out; the chemical fruitiness had soaked into the very walls. Five minutes in there would burst her skull like a grape.
She was so distracted by the stench that she didn’t notice the middle-aged couple approaching their trucks until they tapped at the window and Magneto rolled it down. The smell intensified. Moxie shut her eyes tight, trying to escape it. It made her want to vomit.
Gambit slipped an arm around her shoulders, and she opened her eyes, meaning to shove him away, her nausea growing. She’d given none of Magneto’s men permission to touch her. She could and would claw his face to the bone if he didn’t let up.
The woman at the window, who looked to be in her late fifties, heavily made up and wearing a tight silver pencil-skirt, flinched away from Moxie. Her hand flew to her mouth as she gazed into Moxie’s eyes; golden, her slit-pupils narrow. “Oh... Oh, Mr. Hartman, you didn’t tell me your daughter was a...”
“Does it matter?” Magneto asked, voice clipped.
Clearly, it mattered a lot to the people selling them this warehouse. The woman turned to a companion who looked like he might be her husband. They exchanged a meaningful Look, regarding Moxie like she was an animal in a zoo. Gambit, still in his sunglasses, stroked Moxie’s hair, tucking it behind her ear. Her very pointed ear. The lot-owners gawked, pale and disgusted. When Moxie shoved Gambit off of her, he stayed away, but he still grinned hugely, like he’d just told an excellent joke.
What the absolute fuck?! Moxie had half a mind to slap the stupid sunglasses off his face. Let the mutant-hating couple stare at him a little. This had to be breaking some unspoken rule of mutanthood;faced with bigoted humans, it was their obligation to stick together. Moxie sat as far from Gambit as she could get, pressing herself to the truck door and scowling.
Recovering from their unpleasant shock, the older couple chatted away with Magneto, confirming land and license and contract details they must’ve settled over the phone before he bought the place. They passed him a clipboard to sign, which he did, elegant with a fountain pen. If they only knew they were talking to the single most infamous mutant terrorist the world had ever known...
By the time the papers were signed and the couple said their goodbyes, Moxie was ready to bolt. She waited until the prissy couple got into their prissy little Cadillac and drove off before she opened the door, shifted forms, and made to jump.
Magneto stopped her with a psionic jerk to her collar, halting her in her tracks. “You did well,” he told her. “There’s a reward for you in that purse.”
Moxie, puzzled, too upset to stay still, grabbed the small purse in her jaws and ran, ran; she ran into the weeds and scrub at the very fringes of the property they now owned.
It was hours later, when the moon shone high in the sky, that Moxie felt recovered enough, curious enough, to see what Magneto considered a ‘reward’ for what he’d inadvertently (or was it intentionally?) put her through. She wrestled with the purse, gave up, transformed, and used useful hands with opposing thumbs to inspect every zippered pocket of the little black bag.
It was in the very smallest of these pockets that she found seven hundred US dollars, crisp green cash clasped neatly with a silver money clip.
She and Sabretooth gave each other space when they both ended up sleeping outside. What other choice was there? Even being this close to the warehouse had her head throbbing. Maybe it was the headache, the stressful day, that triggered her nightmares.
They started out as the typical jumble of nonsense that made up any dream; snippets of images and conversations that made little sense when stitched together. But as night wore on, they took a more sinister edge. When she looked up, she found herself not under the night sky, but underneath her father’s poker table. Moxie felt her guts turn to ice.
And it was his table, alright, with all the scars and dings and stains she remembered too vividly. Legs surrounded the table like bars of a cage. Four pairs, eight total, and she would’ve recognized her father’s scuffed old boots anywhere.
No, she told herself. He’s dead. I killed him. You can stop this now.
It didn’t stop. It never stopped. A part of her was always trapped in this stifling trailer, hidden beneath this table, surrounded by these men. She could run forever and still land right back here, in this slice of time.
She heard her father swear — he must’ve lost another round, gambling money he didn’t have to pay debts that grew more outrageous the drunker he became.
“Pay up,” the pair of legs to Moxie’s left demanded. “I mean it, Bob; I’m not letting you fuck me around anymore. You always weasel out of it.”
“Two out of three?” Moxie’s father tried, with his Southern-boy charm; all dimples and sparkle. He’d charmed his way into half the beds in Minnesota with his boyish good looks.
“You can’t afford it. You’re washed out. I’m fucking sick of this, Bob.”
“Then why do you keep coming here?! You show up and drink all my beer and have a good time, and then you always get nasty near the end...”
“You know what I want.”
Moxie put both hands over her ears, trying to block everything out, or to change the outcome in her mind. It could be different this time. Maybe her father would get a good hand; would win back the good cheer of the night. Above her head, cards shuffled, chips clicked. Someone cracked open a new beer bottle.
In reality, games went on forever and a day, but in dreams, the game was over in a blink. “Looks like you lost the bet, Bobby.”
“Where’s that little freak of yours? Frannie? Oh, Frannie?”
There was excited laughter. The hounds had smelled blood in the water. Chairs scooted back, and hands grabbed her; her hair, her shirt, her tail. Scrabble and bite as she might, they had her flat on the table, panties ripped, in record time. They’d learned from experience to move fast; if she transformed before someone stuffed a dick in her, there wasn’t much they could do but beat her and her father bloody... And Dad always took that out on her, later.
She screamed, high and animal, as the first cock of the night stabbed into her guts; as a heavy man smeared her back against the table, slobbering at her neck with his beard-scratchy face. Someone — her father, probably — pinned her hands so she couldn’t use her claws. Not yet, anyway. What was the saying about holding a tiger’s toe?
“I’ll fucking kill you!” Moxie spat, a demon in child’s skin. “I’ll stick knives up your dick and make you eat them! I’ll—“
Someone backhanded her across the face. Her lip split.
Stop it. Stop it!
Rage and terror, terror and rage. That had been Moxie’s life for fifteen years until she snapped and thrust an ice pick into her sleeping father’s eye socket.
“I killed you!” she told her father, trying to thrash still. Let them beat her bloody. Let them kill her. “I won! You aren’t shit, you fucking — get off of me; get off!”
The weight on her grew and grew. Surely her bones were seconds from cracking. Just when she thought she’d die under all the weight, her eyes snapped open, and she was alone outside again, the noxious fumes of the warehouse beating her skull with hammers from the inside out. As though surfacing from deep water, Moxie wrenched herself awake. Then, also like drowning, she began to hack, to cough. Had she been holding her breath? She braced her paws on the mercifully solid ground, back arched, and coughed her throat raw, shaking her head until her ears flapped. Fuck. Fucking dreams. She felt filthy all over.
She rolled in the dirt, trying to scrub the mental slime from her fur. Her teeth bared, her muzzle wrinkled with a snarl, she hopped to her paws, eyes narrow. She wanted to hunt. She wanted to kill. She wanted to solidify herself in the waking world, to feel her power with a spine snapped in her jaws; with blood coating her tongue. There had to be something small and squeaky to destroy here.
Leaping from the shrubs, she bolted, a cinnamon arrow of dark, chilly ground. She felt strong like this, muscles bunching and contracting in the night world of hunter and hunted. She had to be careful — a fox was a predator, sure, but it was also prey. An owl could take her easily. A stray dog or cat could fuck her up in a fight.
Maybe she wanted a fight. Maybe she wanted to bleed.
She ran around the property, all three acres of land where delivery trucks had once trod deep grooves into the earth. Already the land was haling; weeds growing, taking back the land that humans had tried to hurt. Moxie spun and clacked her teeth, just glad that they were her teeth to clack.
She smelled the trucks they’d arrived in, and approached, but found it was only one truck now; a metal cube that Magneto had melted together to form a kind of portable shelter, the wheels lying uselessly to the side. The thought made her bark a laugh; even he couldn’t stand the perfumed smell within the warehouse.
She danced around the cube, surprised and pleased to find an open door, despite the lack of windows. Peeking inside, she saw Magneto, sat at a desk made from arranging a truck seat by the now-flat dashboard, where he’d set his computer up on. He worked tirelessly, eyes barely blinking, fingers flying over the keyboard.
Approaching, Moxie rested her paws in the doorway and gave a muffled little yap.
Magneto glanced her way, then back to his work.
Needing no other invitation, Moxie hopped inside the “trucks” and had a sniff around. Magneto had made a bed for himself on the backseat chairs, bending them backwards and dressing them with sheets and pillows. She wondered if he’d done this before; if he knew how to turn the trucks back into trucks when morning came. She batted at a seatbelt, enjoying the metallic shine.
There was a clothing hamper half-filled with Magneto’s clothes… Moxie knew she’d have to wash them soon; had been planning on doing so for days, actually, but the thought of entering his room, of going through his things, brought an anxiety she couldn’t articulate.
With trepidation, she crept forward, wondering how sensitive the mental link he had with her collar was. Could he feel her every movement as she drew closer?
He continued typing away, eyes only on his computer screen. When she adopted her human form, she felt the collar expand a fraction to accommodate her thicker neck. It hadn’t failed her yet. He could easily keep her trapped as a fox by keeping the collar tight and tiny, but he hadn’t.
Magneto loved mutants. That’s what everyone said. He would buy their freedom, even if it meant he had to pave their path in human blood. She’d grown up with him as the boogeyman on every televised news channel. It scared everyone senseless when the thing they hated most gave them reason to fear. Moxie? Moxie had been in love with him since before she could spell her name. Since before she even knew what love was.
Maybe she still didn’t know.
Reaching into his clothes hamper, she withdrew a cotton undershirt, worn between his bare skin and his armor. When she pulled it over her head, it covered her ass, and not much else. Being a tall girl had its drawbacks. Would it be weird to ‘borrow’ his boxers, too?
“Have you always been so quiet?” Magneto asked.
Moxie, surprised, gave that a thought. Around her parents, certainly. The less she did to draw their attention, their rage, the better. She’d learned early on that to survive was to hide; sometimes in plain sight. She nodded, realized he couldn’t see her, and spoke. “Yes.”
“Hmm.” Magneto kept his eyes on his work, highlighting something with his cursor, copying it into the desktop notepad. “I, too, am quiet.”
Since he’d told her to sit, Moxie did, climbing up onto his bed with her legs crossed, tucking a fold of the shirt against her crotch so that her boss… Owner…Whatever he was wouldn’t catch an eyeful. The bedsprings creaked lightly beneath her.
“I’ve found that the quietest people are often the angriest,” Magneto informed her, saving his files and locking his desktop. A watery screensaver made the monitor ripple. “Are you angry, Moxie?”
Right now? Not particularly. But she knew his meaning. Was he saying that he, too, felt that constant pressure, the tightness, the steam collecting under her skin, right at the marrow of her bones? The secret knot stretched taut as piano wire, threatening to snap and cut the first person who pushed her too far?
Was he telling her that he, too, had such wires inside himself?
He turned to look at her, and she was struck, as always, by his iceberg eyes, cold and distant. He was beautiful, which wasn’t unusual in itself. Many people were attractive.
It was his looks coupled with his power, his status, his aura of untouchability, that made him compelling. Everyone wanted royalty, even if they pretended to despise them.
Or maybe that was just Moxie.
Still, when he looked at her, she wanted to keep his attention; keep his approval. Keep that glow on her. It was an unusual feeling for someone who worked so hard to go unnoticed.
“Is Pietro okay?” she asked.
“Mm? Oh, yes. I’ve packed his wound, stitched him up, and sent him back into hiding. He heals from superficial wounds fairly quickly.”
“He’s... A speedster? Your son?” Moxie knew little about mutations. Neither of her parents were mutants, as far as she knew.
Magneto didn’t answer, aside from a raised eyebrow. Moxie shut her mouth, fearing he might think her too nosy.
“He’s arrogant enough to appreciate your attention, but it’s misplaced,” Magneto told her, something like amusement quirking his lips. “He’s solidly homosexual, I’m afraid.”
Moxie, thrown, blinked for several seconds too long before she understood. Magneto assumed she had a crush on his son. The thought sank into her heart like claws, squeezing, piercing.
“That’s not why I was asking,” she snapped, unexpectedly and unreasonably annoyed. Did he think because she was young, she was also shallow, useless? She’d never given two damns about airheaded pretty boys! “Never fucking mind.”
“Hm.” His monitor chimed. Magneto turned back to it, unlocked the screen, and resumed typing.
Her annoyance growing by the second, Moxie rolled onto her side, then made to stand; to leave. Only the thought of crawling back into her stuffy, nightmare-filled patch of shrubs stopped her.  Where small spaces usually felt safe, tonight they just felt claustrophobic.
Slowly, expecting to be thrown out at any moment, she stretched out with her back to Magneto. She lay on her side, knees bent, tail dangling off the edge of the mattress. She didn’t sleep, exactly, but she allowed herself to rest, imagining a giant blackboard eraser gently scrubbing away all her thoughts. Slowly, her pulse calmed.
She felt as close to calm as she ever got. Somehow, the sounds of Magneto existing behind her was soothing. Like oxpeckers perched on rhinos, and Remora clinging to sharks, the safest place to hide was close to a dangerous animal.
She drifted for a time, possibly an hour, always distantly aware of the sounds behind her. At last, Magneto stood, stretched, and undressed. She felt his eyes skim over her and prepared to wake; to leave, but he never shooed her.
Instead, he switched the lights off and slipped into bed next to her, lying on his back. She felt his body heat through the thin cotton of his undershirt, just inches from her skin.
He breathed. She breathed. She wondered if he felt the pause, as though both were waiting for the other to speak.
He didn’t touch her. After a few long, overly tense moments, she dropped like a stone into the deepest sleep of her life.
Because Magneto’s ‘room’ had no windows, there was no sun to wake her; to help her gauge the time. When she woke, it was with the impression that she’d been unconscious for quite a long time. Her mouth felt fuzzy; cottony. There was a twang of dysphoria as she felt her bare legs brush against soft sheets. Where was her fur? She never slept in this body; it wasn’t safe...
She wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or bothered that Magneto was still in bed beside her. They’d drifted in the night; she felt the slow rise and fall of his chest against her, as she’d somehow wedged up under his arm. He must’ve gotten cold; must’ve thrown a blanket over them during the night.
Slowly, she moved her face out of his armpit, bracing her chin on his arm to study him. He was still asleep, or pretending to be. One limb at a time, Moxie crawled backwards out of the bed, feeling some kind of way about his scent clinging to her.
Magneto turned his face on the pillow, opening his eyes. First thing in the morning, his eyes weren’t icebergs at, but the very sea reflecting the sky. Moxie went still, trapped in the tide.
“You’re not like my father at all,” Moxie said unthinkingly. She reddened at Magneto’s politely bemused expression.
“I should hope not,” he agreed. And, “For what it’s worth, you’re nothing like my daughter, either.”
He had a daughter, too? Why did that information make something clench unpleasantly in Moxie’s gut? A mix of despair and jealousy and curiosity and other emotions she had no name for.
“Lucky her,” Moxie said, sharper than intended. She turned on her heel and quickly left for the outside world.
0 notes