#I can see he tried it for a bit to maybe hide his purple skin

[chloesimaginationthings]

Love it when you give him this winged eyeliner look

Very adorable. Pretty princess core

Michael got good at makeup but just to do his eyes and nothing else

[vwoop-prince]

YJ S3 Dick, still in the midst of his fever dream, hides underneath the 'souvenir' instead of behind some boxes, and accidentally opens the airlock trying to take care of the Parademons. The others get it to close... but not before Nightwing is thrown into space.

There, he stares at the ship holding his friends and mentors. There, he wishes more than anything that he can, somehow, survive. There, he tries to live, if only so his family don't have to bury him like Jason.

There, Nightwing dies, wanting to save everyone, even with the cold seeping into his bones far too quickly for a regular section of space.

Then, Dick opens his eyes to... Earth? There's a little house, and grass, and trees, but there's a bubble of green over it all. Outside of that green was an entire castle, one that looked like it should have far more support beams than it does for even a hope that it stays standing.

And the sky was swirling shades of that same green. It makes him think of Lazarus.

"Well, that's something you don't see every day." He whips his head behind him, a bit too fast for Earth's atmosphere, but it doesn't hurt him. Past the bubble of green was a blue-skinned adult in purple robes, the insides of a grandfather-clock fitted inside their torso, and a black staff with a stopwatch on its top. Beside them was a man with snow white hair, glowing green eyes, a crown of frozen fire dancing above his head, and the most galaxy-like cloak Dick's ever seen clasped to his shoulders. He's wearing... a hazmat suit? Maybe? The twinkling stars and odd lighting of wherever he is were giving him a bit of a headache.

But in front of those two, within this bubble, was...

"DICK!" Wally shouted with unrestrained glee, a blur overtaking his spot for barely a heartbeat before Dick's stuck in a crushing hug that he reciprocates once his brain stops feeling like its melting.

He doesn't know how long it took for them to calm down, but the man with the crown spoke up after a time, as Wally was still wiping their faces free of tears. "Welcome to the Infinite Realms, Nightwing." Dick barely even registered that he was still wearing his suit, but now it felt suffocating. "I suppose you're the one Clockwork was holding out for; There shouldn't've been enough Ectoplasm around you to form a Ghost, and your physical body's still in space. I can see why you like this one, though, Clockie," he states flippantly, turning to his companion. Almost like he didn't expect Dick to pay too close attention to what he was saying.

"Either way, there's two options for you." The man didn't let Dick swallow his tears and question anything. Dick's not sure if he's grateful or not. "First: Stay in the Realms permanently. You'll see Kid Flash whenever you want and learn to be a Ghost with the denizens of the Realms. Maybe find your parents."

"But..." Dick pulls away from Wally, keeping him at arms length, eyes flitting between them. The two outside the bubble were distinctly... ghost-like, so the mentions of 'Ghosts' make sense. But Wally looked... alive. A bit pale, a bit thin... but alive. Dick can't see any of his own skin to see if it was blue or tinted that way, but the Nightwing symbol on his chest kept flickering between its own blue and this 'Realms' green. "But--What about the others? What about you? Why can't you come home?" The last two, he focuses on Wally, because now he can feel a heartbeat beneath his gloves. Wally's alive. He's alive.

His friend just shrugs. "Something about their portals not fit for the living? I'm meant to wait for someone to figure out a permanent portal, but they won't tell me how long that'll take." Wally glares at the... 'Ghosts'? There was a heat to it, but it also seemed like this was a well-worn argument.

"The permanent portal was always an 'if', Wallace West. And that is entirely dependent on if Richard Grayson takes the second option," the clock Ghost--Clockwork?--speaks up. But instead of the adult Dick was expecting, there was an elderly Ghost in their place. Still with the time motif. Was that... more literal than Dick took it?

"Yes, the second option..." The crowned man glares daggers at Clockwork. The temperature dips below comfortable. Dick tries to blink the spaceship and stars out of his sight, withdrawing his arms from Wally to try and warm himself. Tries to remember he's not in space. "The second option is that you return to your body... changed. You'll be able to protect Earth better, stay with your alive family, save the Lost Ones... for a price."

Dick doesn't know if he should ignore the plural in 'Lost Ones'. He doesn't know if he's reading too much into how, in this Realm, apparently only his parents were able to be found. Where's Jason? He doesn't dare hope, but...

"What's the price?"

The man smiles and a ring of blue forms around his waist. It splits in two and travels up and down his body, replacing the cloak and whatever clothes he was actually wearing with a NASA shirt, worn jeans, and red sneakers actually duct taped together. The blue tint to his otherwise tan skin fades completely. His hair turns black. His eyes turn blue.

He was like a taller, slightly slimmer, way hotter version of Bruce.

The man walks through the bubble, but doesn't disturb the grass beneath his feet. "You become the Ghost King's vassal." Dick flinches away and almost hides behind Wally. "Not my idea! But, well... it is either this, or your permanent death."

"What does becoming a vassal do to him?" Wally asks, gently trying to stop Dick from breaking his ribs with how tightly he was hugging himself. Does he even have ribs?

"He gains my powers. Ice, electricity, invisibility, intangibility, flight... He becomes a Halfa. He becomes what I was, in life. Just... needing to make offerings to me, now and then. Something like that, at least. I give him powers, he gives me a chunk of, I don't know, chocolate once a week. Like a warlock."

Wally keeps talking to the man, keeps getting information that he knows he should pay attention to, but something in his chest screams to accept this deal, and he can't focus on anything else.

Nightwing can protect. He can return to life and go back to Blüdhaven, be the Vigilante they need. He can visit Gotham every now and then, help with cases and stop criminals from harming others. He can see his brother. He can see his friends. He can eat Alfred's cookies, and have little get-togethers with Babs and the Team--hell, he can argue with Bruce.

And all he has to do is... give an offering to this guy? The Ghost King? Every once in a while?

"There's no other price?" The King turns his attention to Dick. His eyes had shifted to a blue-green that almost hypnotize him. The green swirls, the blue forms and melts like snowflakes, and he can't look away.

He takes another step forward and Wally steps to the side. There was familiarity between them. Wally deferred to him. Dick can't quite tell why. Though, with how Wally hasn't once looked at Clockwork, maybe it's because he's... grounded? Are all speedsters in trouble with, what, the Ghost of Time? That... actually makes perfect sense.

"I'll be honest, Nightwing: You've impressed me." The weight behind the King's words lifts the ones that've been on his shoulders since he was nine. "You remind me of myself. Maybe, if I wasn't a Halfa... If I had a mentor... I could've been like you.

"Despite Clockwork's insistence over the years that I get back in touch with the living, I've held off. When he eventually suggested that I help create another Halfa, I locked him in his tower for twenty years. I didn't want anyone to go through what I had. But, now... I see that you won't. You can't. Even if you hide this deal--our shared powers... You'll still have people by your side. Strong people. Smart people. You can already handle yourself. And I'd love to see what you can do--who you can save--with my help."

There was maybe two inches between their faces when the King finishes speaking. Dick roves his eyes across the other's face, trying to find the common and familiar ticks that show lies and deceit and manipulation. All he finds is sincerity and genuine care.

Wally plays with his fingers from the corner of his eye, gaze hopeful as he looks between the two of them. Wally, who was alive and breathing and able to leave if he accepts. Eventually. Somehow.

Dick Grayson sends a quiet apology to his parents and hopes they will forgive him for being a little bit selfish.

"I accept."

He flings his eyes open. Above him, domino mask too wobbly to be properly secured anymore, was Robin crying and begging him to wake up. His hands were sloppily placed over his heart. Batman was trying to drag him away, the firm set of his jaw screaming grief.

Nightwing gasps once he registers his lungs burning.

There's a large cacophony of noise, multiple bright suits and people hounding over him, and the distinct artificial taste of slightly-too-much oxygen that the ship with the Parademons had. That he flew out of and died. He was still too cold.

Someone moves their arm beneath his knees and shoulder and Dick passes out.

(Dick 'Nightwing' Grayson dies in space. Ghost King Danny Phantom likes this too-human Hero. They split their souls in half, take one piece of the others, and all they know is that Phantom is now Nightwing's Patron Deity. Danny uses ice, for electricity killed him. Dick uses electricity, for ice killed him. They are opposites, and yet so incredibly similar. Clockwork was looking forward to when Danny starts putting off his paperwork to hang out with his new 'friend'.)

[wheneverfeasible]

Ruin Me (part 5)

wc: 4k || rating: E || story summary: Steve shows up on Eddie’s doorstep with an offer he can’t refuse || chapter summary: Eddie refuses to let Steve leave without some proper aftercare. And maybe not at all. || tags: omegaverse, alpha!Eddie Munson, omega!Steve Harrington, intersex omegas, explicit content (see ao3 for full tags) || posted in full on ao3

See bottom for commentary

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Previously…

Eddie wasn’t stupid. He knew that, even if he was interested in getting to know Steve more, there was no way that Steve would want anything more to do with Eddie after tonight. He had gotten what he wanted and Eddie…well, Eddie wasn’t stupid.

Sure, maybe his rants about forced conformity and biological slavery were enough to convince Steve he’d probably be safe enough with him, but Eddie knew the truth. What greater disappointment was there than having a Munson be the one to steal the precious golden boy’s virginity?

The super senior, drug dealing, trailer trash, poor excuse of an alpha Munson who had no hope for a future that didn’t include the bars of a cell or six feet underground.

Why would Steve ever want anything more to do with him after tonight?

As Eddie contemplated this depressing truth, Steve slipped into a small doze in his arms, though his purring never let up. A small smile curled at his plump lips, his face flushed and sweaty with their exertion, yet looking the most peaceful Eddie could ever recall it being. Content.

Steve looked content.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Munson,” he whispered to himself. He sighed then, holding on to Steve even tighter, a pleased sound leaving the omega’s lips even in his light slumber.

Eventually, Eddie’s knot deflated.

As Eddie slipped out of Steve, he could feel the flood of both their releases beginning to seep out of the other boy, which also caused Steve to whine as he came back to awareness.

“Shh, precious, it’s okay,” Eddie murmured, gently easing Steve onto his back as he pressed small kisses along Steve’s shoulder, neck, and jaw. “Just relax. You did so good for me, sweetness.”

Steve’s nose crinkled into something resembling distaste. “Sticky,” he complained a touch petulantly, and Eddie couldn’t help but lean in to brush over Steve’s frowning lips with his own.

“I know, baby, I’m sorry.” He moved away briefly, grabbing the towel he’d discarded near the bed to gently begin wiping away the worst of their combined release. Steve whimpered a little at the rough feeling of the cloth against his sensitive bits, but Eddie tried to soothe him as best he could, pressing gentle kisses across Steve’s skin wherever he could reach.

“Fuck,” Steve groaned, bringing a hand up to cover his face as Eddie cleaned him up, though he then grimaced and lifted his hand to frown at it as he realized his face was also sticky from Eddie unintentionally rubbing his slick over him earlier.

“We just did, sweetheart, but give me a few minutes and I’m sure we can go again,” Eddie grinned with a small tease, leaning in to press a kiss to Steve’s inner thigh where his bite mark was now a purple-red.

Steve lazily swatted at Eddie’s shoulder, though he couldn’t hide the amused twitch to his lips. That blush that Eddie was quickly becoming obsessed with was back on his cheeks, however, as Eddie continued to gently clean Steve up as well as he could.

“Think you can stand up, baby? I would love to keep you in the bed, but I think we both need an actual shower,” he grinned, sliding up Steve’s body to hover over him.

He leaned down to press a quick kiss to his lips, telling himself he was allowed these actions until Steve was out his door and this thing between them was over. “Plus, I think we well and truly ruined this bedding.”

Steve groaned, though his blush spread farther at the soft kiss, making no move to push Eddie away. “I think you fucked my legs into jelly.”

A bright, proud grin spread across Eddie’s lips, causing Steve to snort and roll his eyes. Where earlier it had been bitchy, however, now it just looked fond.

“I guess I’ll just have to hold you up then, darling,” he drawled, leaning in to bury his face in the crook of Steve’s neck and inhaling his sex-sweat scent. “I’m going to get the water started,” he murmured, feeling that pleased warmth in his chest when Steve’s fingers tangled in his hair once more, holding him close. “I’ll be right back, Stevie.”

Steve swallowed thickly, nodding as he seemed to only reluctantly release Eddie. He watched him with his big brown eyes as Eddie just as reluctantly slid from the bed to try to coax some warm water out of the blasted shower. It was easier in the summer to get warm water, of course, as the sun heated the water tank exactly when you didn’t want it to.

He hoped the storm didn’t leave them with only something frigid. As willing as he was to boil water on the stove, as he’d had to do before even before living with Wayne, he doubted Steve would be willing to wait for it.

Which was just another example of why this thing here was for tonight only. Steve no doubt never had to wait for the water to heat up in any form, never had to worry about not having enough hot water, and certainly had a shower larger than a chessboard.

(Okay, the last was an exaggeration, but it would be a tight fit getting the both of them into the shower.)

Luck seemed to be on his side, however, as the water thankfully began heating after a brief, terrifying moment, causing a small whoop to leave Eddie before he could stop it as he pumped his fist to himself.

He briefly hoped Steve hadn’t heard him over the sound of the rushing water and the storm outside, no matter the thinness of the trailer walls. He’d rather not remind the other boy what an absolute fucking nerd he was when he was still playing at being the suave alpha Steve obviously expected him to be.

Uncaring about his nude state, he all but swaggered back into his room with a proud grin on his face despite himself at his victory over the water tap, stopping only when he caught sight of Steve again.

Steve wasn’t quite fully sitting up, but he had propped himself up on an elbow, his other hand lightly touching the bruise covering his mating gland. There was a faraway look on his face, though his expression was otherwise blank to how he felt about recent events. Eddie watched him for a moment before clearing his throat, feeling oddly nervous.

He tried to remind himself that this was Harrington, but a part of him knew that Steve had stopped being the bogeyman he’d always made him out to be the moment Steve revealed why he needed Eddie’s help.

And everything else after that.

Steve jumped slightly as he was pulled from his thoughts, his hand dropping to the bed once more. He blinked up at Eddie before offering a self-conscious smile. “Um…if you give me a moment, I can get into the shower and out of your hair.”

Eddie tried not to let Steve’s words affect him. That’s what this whole thing was, after all. A quick fuck and then never interacting again. After all, Steve was set to graduate soon and Eddie…yeah. It was becoming more and more apparent that he was about to become a super super senior.

Again, the realization that the two of them came from two totally different worlds was just a little too hard to ignore.

But Eddie was, if nothing else, good at pretending.

“And have you driving out in this mess of a storm?” he snorted, tossing a hand towards his bedroom window where the rattle of rain hitting the window was still highly evident. “I think not, Harrington. Plus, you look bone tired, sweetness,” he pointed out, because that much was true. Though Steve was looking more aware and less doped up on pheromones and sex, he looked exhausted.

“I can take care of myself, Munson,” Steve huffed back, but he was obviously too exhausted to get truly indignant. Eddie just softly snorted again and shook his head as he walked over to the bed and, with another squawk from Steve, lifted him up into a princess carry. “Eddie!”

“Don’t worry, princess,” he grinned as Steve’s arms automatically looped around his neck. “I promise to take good care of you. Now let’s take advantage of the water while it’s still warm.”

Eddie ignored any further protests from Steve as he carefully carried him into the small bathroom, only allowing him to take to his feet again to get inside the shower stall. He stepped in right after, hands firm on Steve’s bruised hips so his wobbling legs didn’t send him crashing, and while it was definitely cramped, he at least had enough space to first wash Steve and then himself. If just barely.

Though he could do without the disparaging look that Steve was giving his combination shampoo/conditioner/body wash. Not everyone had fancy hair care routines, okay? Steve tactfully kept his mouth shut, however, which Eddie counted as a blessing.

Despite his earlier protests too, Eddie could see the way Steve’s eyes began drooping as he leaned against the shower wall as Eddie bathed them, humming in what was almost a purr again while Eddie scrubbed the rainwater and sweat from his hair.

There was no way Eddie could let the guy leave like this, that was for certain.

After carefully washing the both of them—and trying not to think about how Steve smelled like him now, because he wasn’t some possessive knothead for an omega who wasn’t even his—Eddie grabbed two more towels and wrapped one around his own waist before draping another over Steve’s shoulders.

“Sit on the toilet lid for a moment while I get the bedding changed, okay, Stevie?” he murmured quietly, gently running the towel material over Steve to help dry him before helping him sit on the seat. He knew their towels weren’t the softest material anymore, not in their age, but he’d grabbed the softest one he could find for Steve.

Steve blinked up at him, a light flush dusting his cheeks again, making Eddie want to bite them. Or kiss them. He wasn’t certain anymore. They were basically the same thing, really. He reached out to gently stroke Steve’s warm cheek when Steve just kept staring at him, trying to offer a reassuring smile.

“Okay?” he repeated, needing to make certain that Steve was okay to be left alone for a moment.

Steve’s throat bobbed as he audibly swallowed, reminding Eddie that he needed to get him some water to drink as well. Maybe something to eat too, if Steve was awake enough to eat something.

“Okay,” Steve murmured quietly, almost a whisper.

Without really intending to, Eddie leaned down and brushed his lips over Steve’s forehead before releasing him and stepping back to head for the laundry cupboard. He could swear he could feel Steve’s eyes drilling into him as he walked away, but he refrained from turning back to check.

He wasn’t looking forward to braving the laundromat with sex stained sheets (again), but if the storm didn’t let up soon, he had a feeling that was going to be a necessity.

Especially since his only other set of sheets he had to use right now were his old Star Wars ones which…yeah, really fucking sexy those ones. Hopefully Steve was still too out of it that he didn’t pay attention to that.

Not that he normally cared what the normies thought of him, but…

He tried not to think about why he was trying to impress Steve Harrington of all people.

Once he dried off best he could and had his bed remade, Eddie then scooped up Steve’s clothes and carried them with him to the bathroom so he could drape them over the shower’s wall to try to dry them somewhat. He paused though, taking in the sight of Steve squirming a little on the toilet seat. He opened his mouth to ask if Steve was all right when he smelled it: arousal.

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up under his damp fringe. “Really, Steve?”

Steve huffed up at Eddie, though his cheeks were bright pink. “It’s your fault,” he grumbled.

Eddie pressed his fingertips to his chest with a shocked expression. “My fault? I wasn’t even in the room!”

“No, but you said it. That I’d feel the ache until I was wet for you again.”

“I—” Eddie stared at Steve with wide eyes, this time with his cheeks flushing a soft pink. Yes, he had said that, but he hadn’t really expected that to actually arouse Steve.

He cleared his throat, grabbing his still wet hair to cover part of his face as an almost shy smile took over his expression at the thought of Steve actually getting aroused by the memory of him. Of possibly even wanting him again. Him, specifically.

“Well. Anything I can do for you, big boy?” he teased once he’d collected his composure again, moving his hair from his face but still twirling a finger around it to give Steve an exaggerated saucy wink.

Steve bit his bottom lip as he stared up at Eddie, rolling it between his teeth until it was pink and plump again, before letting his gaze travel over Eddie’s still very much nude form, minus the towel hanging low on his hips. And then, much to Eddie’s amazement, the scent of subtle arousal heightened.

Did Steve actually…find Eddie attractive? Like…for real? Not just in a ‘we are currently having sex and you’re good at it’ sort of way?

Before Eddie could properly process that, Steve let out a large sigh. “As much as I might like to see what else you can do tonight,” he huffed, which turned into a yawn, “I’m beat. I should really head home now.”

Snapping out of his shock, Eddie shook a finger at Steve. “Nah uh uh, big boy. You’re in no condition to drive right now. Besides, it’s still raining and your clothes are wet. You’re not going anywhere, Harrington.”

Steve gave Eddie that look again, like he didn’t quite know what to make of him, all big eyed and beguiled. A soft smirk slowly settled over his lips. “Yeah? This a kidnapping, Munson?”

Eddie could only grin in response, finally moving to fully set aside Steve’s clothes to dry as much as possible before moving to pull Steve to his feet. “Maybe it is, sweetheart. I did just defile you.”

Steve flashed Eddie a smug smile. “Yeah you did.”

He sounded exceptionally proud of that fact. But then, Eddie figured that if the alternative was being mated to an alpha twice your age who didn’t care about your pleasure and only wanted you barefoot and pupped up, that Steve probably was feeling a little proud of going against his parents’ wishes.

If anything, Eddie was a little in awe of Steve’s bravery to do what he did. He didn’t know Eddie. Sure, he could listen to his tabletop rants every day of the week, but he’d have no idea what Eddie was like behind closed doors when told to ruin him. And Steve had done so with the expectation of being hurt.

Just how shitty was Steve’s home life to take such a risk?

And then all higher brain function left Eddie for a moment as Steve did something he’d never done before: he scented him.

Sure, Eddie had more or less scented Steve earlier, nuzzling into his neck and drawing in the rich musk of Steve’s natural scent and the tang of sex, but Steve had no reason to do it now.

Yet, when Eddie carefully pulled Steve back to his feet, Steve had stepped immediately into his space, wrapped his arms around him, and buried his nose into Eddie’s neck over his mating gland.

Eddie tensed for a moment, though he forced himself to relax when Steve made a distressed sound, his scent souring slightly. Sliding his hand into Steve’s hair to cradle his head against him, his other hand sliding up the smooth pane of Steve’s back, Eddie thought he had to be dreaming when Steve let out a small chirp and began nosing at his scent again.

Right. Eddie was letting this go on for too long, too far. Steve was still in that post-orgasm bliss after losing his virginity; there was no way he actually wanted anything like this with a Munson. He’d be mortified if he were of more present mind.

Well. He wouldn’t be doing this in the first place if he was of more present mind.

“C’mon, omega,” Eddie murmured quietly, despite himself, bending his knees slightly to scoop Steve back up into his arms. Which then led to Steve wrapping his arms around Eddie again and nuzzling more against him, causing Eddie to thickly swallow.

He tried to remind himself that this was just biology at play. An alpha taking an omega’s virginity was no laughing matter, especially not knotting them. Their pheromones were wreaking havoc on their senses, telling them that there was more to this than there actually was.

It didn’t help that Steve smelled even more like Eddie now with his shampoo and everything. It was biological conditioning. For the both of them. It wasn’t real. By the next time they saw each other, this single night of passion would be nothing but a story to tell.

Which Eddie supposed he got to have that. This night wouldn’t be a secret because Steve needed his deflowering known. Everyone would know that Eddie “The Freak” Munson had taken precious Steve Harrington’s virginity and left every other alpha that came sniffing around with sloppy seconds.

He knew that there would be alphas who didn’t care about the concept of virginity. He certainly didn’t, not really, no matter the role he played tonight. One day Steve would no doubt find an alpha worthy of him, and then these nights would belong to them. And Steve…hell, maybe Steve would remember this night fondly, though he doubted it would be because it was Eddie.

No, it would just be because of the way Eddie had made him feel.

“You smell weird,” Steve said with a small pout. “Bring back your other scent, I love it. Did you know you smell like chocolate? But like…dark chocolate,” he said dreamily.

Eddie didn’t know if he should be offended or not, but it did work to take his mind off things he couldn’t change. “Are you telling me I smell bitter?” he huffed. “And aren’t omegas the ones supposed to smell like candy and stuff?”

“No, you jerk,” Steve said with a roll of his eyes as Eddie finally brought him back into the bedroom, losing both towels in the process but that hardly mattered at the moment. “You smell…well, okay, yeah, a little sweet, but also…smoky and earthy. Kind of like molasses. Or cardamom. And like…“ A roll of thunder interrupted him, but it just caused him to grin. “Like how it smells right after it rains.”

Rolling his eyes, Eddie carefully deposited Steve on the bed before moving over to where he kept some of his omega specific drugs. “So you’re saying I smell bitter and soggy. Great, thanks, got it.”

“Asshole,” Steve said with something Eddie almost wanted to call affection in his tone, looking down at the sheets he was settled into. “That’s not what I—oh sick! Star Wars!” he said brightly, causing Eddie to whip around to stare at him, not that he noticed.

“I just got into these movies, but they’re kickass. A buddy of mine introduced me to them recently. And I thought I had a messed up family,” Steve teased with a small snort and a grin.

Steve Harrington knew about Star Wars? Did Eddie somehow find himself in the goddamn Twilight Zone or something? There was no way that super mega popular jock Steve Harrington actually appreciated a science fantasy movie series like Star Wars.

Then again…Steve had been defying expectations left and right today already. It might just be possible that Steve Harrington was a secret nerd after all.

“Yeah?” Eddie asked, a small grin of his own overtaking his expression as he grabbed the necessary pill package and popped one out.

“Yeah, the teddy bear things are cute,” Steve grinned back, suppressing another yawn now that the excitement of the sheets was mellowing out.

Eddie needed only a moment to understand what Steve meant, feeling a warmth spread through his chest at Steve’s response. “Oh yeah, the Ewoks?” he clarified easily. There was no need to correct Steve or make him feel stupid about calling them teddy bears. They looked like teddy bears.

“I’m more of an Empire Strikes Back fan myself. The one with the ice planet, and Vader and Luke’s fight,” Eddie made his own clarification with a small shrug.

“Yeah, man, those lightsabers are awesome! Dustin and I are making a handshake with them,” Steve agreed with a small, fond smile. “Totally mind blown about him being his dad though.”

Shit. Steve really did know Star Wars. Though…who the fuck was Dustin???

Eddie swallowed back the possessive instincts of his inner alpha. It wasn’t like Steve was actually his or anything.

“Here, sweetheart,” he said, stepping back towards the bed to hold out the pill for Steve to take. “I’m gonna get you some water, then you need to take that since you’re not on birth control.” Eddie hesitated for a moment. “Which I can get for you, if you want. You wouldn’t be the first omega whose parents are assholes.”

Steve took the pill, though he looked up at Eddie with those wide eyes again, a small ‘o’ to his lips. He blinked and looked down at the pill in his hands, turning it between his fingers. “If my parents…well, I don’t know if I’ll be able to afford it after this,” he mumbled.

Oh.

Eddie paused as he experienced another paradigm shift about Steve Harrington.

He could make a quip. Could leeringly say that they could work something out, could give the pills a test run…but Steve looked a little too vulnerable in that moment, his shoulders hunching slightly, his eyes not meeting Eddie’s.

It was entirely possible he would think Eddie was serious, would demand Steve pay him back with his body, and he didn’t want that thought to pass through Steve’s head even for a second.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he murmured, reaching out to curl Steve’s damp hair over his ear. He was sorry he didn’t own a blowdryer, he would have loved drying Steve’s hair for him. Maybe he should buy one. “Consider tonight payment enough. It’s not every day I get to have such a pretty omega in my bed offering up their virginity,” he lightly teased with a small grin.

Steve blinked up at Eddie at that, that by now familiar light dusting of pink on his cheeks making its reappearance. Who knew Steve blushed so easily? He gently grazed the back of his knuckles over the heated skin, Steve’s eyelids fluttering at the gesture. God, he really was pretty though, wasn’t he?

“I’ll be back with a cup of water for that,” Eddie said, dropping his hand and clearing his throat. He gave a faint grimace. “I do have to warn you, too. It might not be entirely pleasant afterwards, and it could trigger your heat a little sooner or even delay it. I can get you some heat suppressants too, but it may not work on this upcoming one.”

“My parents at least let me have suppressants,” Steve mumbled, dropping his own gaze. “Or they did, at least. Didn’t want to risk their whore omega son losing control,” he muttered bitterly.

Eddie swallowed back a growl at the thought of Steve’s parents. Fuck traditionalist bigots.

Unthinkingly, Eddie dropped another kiss to Steve’s forehead and then he was all but escaping his room to get Steve a glass of water. Fucking tap water, nothing filtered properly because he lived in a fucking trailer and Steve…Steve was used to the nicer things in life.

Which wasn’t Eddie.

“Christ, Munson, if your old man could see you now,” he muttered to himself, picturing the Munson Doctrine just flying out the window, as he filled up a glass. Not even a proper glass at that, either, but one of those novelty promotional things Wayne had gotten at McDonald’s with the purple guy on the front.

Whatever. It wasn’t like he could impress Steve even if he tried.

next

Author commentary:

First off, if you saw above with the little parts numbers, the total count is now 6, meaning there’s just one more part after this! It’s gonna be short and sweet, but it will be the final part of Ruin Me…though not the end of playing in this universe. 😉

I wanted it to be really important for Eddie to handle the aftercare of their coupling, just as it was important to him to get verbal consent from Steve before he continued anything.

Also, I am a firm believer that Eddie does not take care of his hair properly and I will die on that hill. He for sure uses the same shit for his hair that he uses for his ass. But don’t worry, Steve will eventually break him of that habit. However, I wanted his lack of proper care to also emphasize how much he wishes to take care of Steve.

Despite this originally supposed to be a one-time thing between them, Eddie is already feeling the desire for more. Which he’s trying to blame on biology, but we all know the truth, don’t we? Silly Eddie.

Also, the Star Wars sheets lmao. It was a spur of the moment decision when I wrote those sheets in, and then I couldn’t resist. Especially because I thought it would give Eddie another moment to realize that there was more to Steve than he ever thought possible.

The sheets in question:

Also, I feel like Eddie’s favorite would be ESB. (Mine is a tie between ESB and ROTJ btw. Vader was my first crush and he still remains one to this day.) Which, speaking of, it was likewise important for me to give Eddie that moment of not correcting or judging Steve for not knowing something well. It’s a favorite detail of mine in their relationship from canon.

I don’t want to get too much into Steve’s thought processes here because it will be covered in the sequel/companion piece, but he’s definitely starting this whole thing believing Eddie got what he wanted from him, but he’s likewise realizing there’s more to Eddie than he realized too. He may or may not be developing pesky little feelings of his own. (He totally is. And not just because he got a good dicking.)

Also, the McDonald’s glasses in question, with the one Eddie grabbed being the Grimace one:

But by the gods, Eddie wants to impress Steve so badly. Wants to be a good option for an alpha. To the point of getting jealous of someone who, though he doesn’t know it yet, is a middle school nerd lmaooo

~

If anyone in the permanent tag list would like to be excluded from this fic’s parts, please let me know and I’ll remove you for this fic only!

Hostage Hotties:

@derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump @honeii-puff @scoops-aboy86 @dotdot-wierdlife @everywherenothere @bumblebeecuttlefishes

As well, temporary tags for this fic only are also still open if anyone else is interested in my bts author commentary.

Temporary fic tags:

@amerikanskaya-krassavitsa @estrellami-1

[jadewritesficshere]

Eddie x fem!reader (reader wears lingerie, no other descriptions of reader given except mentioning hitting that spot just right)

Contents: lingerie, both are a lil pervy tbh, humiliation, crying, praise kink, sub!Eddie, this is literally just horny ramblings

18+ only

It wasn't every day you came back to your house and your best friend had broken in. Maybe, every other week at best.

Usually, Eddie would be high eating your snacks (you were thinking about getting a lock for the cabinets). Or he would be watching whatever show you recorded and tease you about spoiling it (you threatened to use the VHS to beat him over the head and strangle him with the VHS ribbon if he did).

But, you had no clue Eddie was even in your house today. His van wasn't parked in your driveway when you came home. His shoes weren't in a haphazard pile at the front door. You had 0 clue he was there.

Not until you heard a thump coming from your bedroom. Which, your first thought went to the knickknacks you had that someone could be stealing (they wouldn't cause to a normal person it was junk but to you they were memories).

You grabbed a knife from the kitchen (you weren't gonna die without a fight, besides you learned a thing or two from the horror movies Eddie made you watch). You quietly pushed your bedroom door open and-

Shit.

Eddie was standing in your room in front of your mirror. Miles of pale skin just on display, scattered with contrasting dark tattoos he had. Nothing on, save for your lilac lingerie.

The palest purple lace bra, you can see from the back isn't even clipped correctly, missing the hook entirely. But the color is striking on Eddie. The lace thong cuts high on Eddie's ass, and you try not to gawk at the little black heart tattooed on his cheek. Eddie's scars seem softer amongst the lace.

How often did Eddie do this? Come over and put on your lingerie? Stand in front of the mirror and rub his fingers over his one hardened nipple. You couldn't see from where you were, but you knew his cock was hard. He'd be leaking all over your underwear, marking them.

Eddie lets out a little moan and it ignites a fire in your gut. You lick you lips as you watch Eddie, which maybe makes you a pervert but really it is your house and he is wearing your clothes so if anyone is-

Fuck why is it so hot?

"So-" you clear your throat. Eddie let's out a screech (that you are pretty sure ruined your eardrums) as he whirls around. He tries to cover himself with his arms, curls in on himself. And Holy cow he is hard.

He is big, so big, the tip just peeking out of the waistband of the panties. You can see the pearly translucent precum already dripping onto the underwear.

"I- fuck, I'm aha listen I can exp- i can explain!" Eddie fumbles over his words. You blink a few times tearing your eyes away from his massive dick (oh it would feel so good it would hit every spot just right).

Eddie's face is red, tears welling up in his eyes. "Oh Baby, no," you rush over, pausing when Eddie flinches. You gently put a hand out on Eddie's shoulder, drawing him into a hug, " It's- it's okay. Please don't cry." "Don't hate me." You gasp in shock, pulling back to look in his eyes," I could never!"

Eddie's eyes are wet, filled with unshed tears. His nose is turning a bit red, from embarrassment, shame, or sadness you can't tell. But his cheeks are such a pretty pink you think it'd look nice elsewhere on his pale skin.

Eddie hides his face with his hair, shuffling his feet a bit. "So..." you pause unsure how to ask it politely so you just go for it," I can see this is a kink thing...but like, what kind?"

Eddie shrugs," Wanted to feel pretty..." You frown," You are pretty Eddie." Eddie shakes his head and gestures to his abdomen," Not with these."

Eddie really should not be drawing your eyes any further south then his face. Cause your pulse kicks up and the fire inside you lights back up your spine. You can't help but notice his dick is still hard as a rock.

"You are too pretty." "Not really." "Yes!" Not-" You shove Eddie lightly, causing him to stumble back and fall onto the bed. Eddie's eyes widen in shock as he peers up at you.

"Don't talk about my best friend that way! You are too pretty. And handsome. Funny. So talented," You sigh and step forward, into Eddie's parted legs. Eddie leans up on his elbows and blinks rapidly at you. "You're so fucking pretty Baby." You murmur, hand reaching out lightly touching his thigh.

Eddie let's out a whine before looking startled at himself. You can't help but notice his dick twitch under the pale purple lace. "You like being called pretty?" You smirk. "Like when you call me Baby," Eddie replies softly.

You aren't sure who moves first, but suddenly your arms are wrapped around each other. Your lips meet Eddie's without hesitation. His are slightly chapped but still soft, molding perfectly against your own.

You run your hand down Eddie's neck, to the pale bra strap and snap it. He gasps and you take the chance, slipping your tongue into his mouth. He tastes of weed, mint gum, and just Eddie.

Eddie moans against you, hips bucking forward seeking friction. You pull back, gasping for air. Eddie let's out a whine," No, come back-" "I ain't going anywhere Baby."

Eddie's eyes flutter shut as he bites his lip. He hums as you kiss his jaw, lightly nipping at his pulse point. He shivers against you, hips bucking forward again. You suck lightly as you decide to give him some relief.

Your hand snakes down, grasping him firmly. You lightly squeeze through the lace, giving just enough friction as you move your hand.

"Look so good in my lingerie Baby, you should wear it more often." You murmur between kisses. Eddie nods absently, gasping and moaning beneath you. "Got a red pair that has some nice straps, you'd look so metal and so so pretty."

Eddie freezes, mouth falling open. His brow wrinkles slightly as he moans, pleasure overtaking him. His hips spasm, even his thighs twitch, as he comes. You can feel your underwear get soaked along with part of his stomach.

You stroke him through it, extending his pleasure until he whimpers and pushes at your hand. You pull back, smiling softly at his face. Eddie's eyes flutter open, darting down to your lips. "Kiss?" He asks quietly, unsure. You simply smile and kiss him again.

[desceros]

tries to sleep, fails, gets melancholy, copes by writing purple turtle fic donatello/reader, gn!reader, rated t, 1.6k. insomnia, friends to.... friends, (were you ever just friends? are you something more? what is love if not friendship shifted an inch to the left?), yearning, yearning, yearning, yearning—

Donatello is sleeping.

Hefting a fatigued sigh, you hover in the doorway to his bedroom for a moment. Staring at his face, taking it in. He’s gotten unfairly handsome as the years have gone by. Beautiful, even. Pretty angles, sharp defined lines, dark seductive eyes. Like this, unmasked, slack in sleep, it’s free for you to look as much as you want. More than you can during the day. A little secret thing just for your own heart’s keeping.

…Best friends shouldn’t want to stare at each other like this, you think with an ache.

It’s late. You can’t sleep. Lying down has provided nothing but racing thoughts you can’t quiet. Things to do tomorrow. Things to say when you see someone. Things to write down if you can hold them until the morning. Things, things, things. So many things in your head, ten thousand little voices like little snowflakes in your skull. Each small, powerless; but together, a force too mighty to outrun.

And Donnie is sleeping. Normally he’s awake. Fiddling, poking, prodding, studying, twisting, cracking, bending. Available to draw you into sleep. Always soothing, petting your hair, cooing at you until you drift off at last to the dulcet sounds of his low rumbles.

But not tonight. Tonight he sleeps, pretty in his sheets even as he’s all sprawled out and drooling. Cute. He’s cute. He’s cute and close enough to touch but so, so far away that you know you never will. Not like that. Not like that. 

It’s late. You can’t sleep. 

Slowly, not wanting to wake him, infuriated with yourself just at the thought that you’d risked it by lingering as long as you have, you peel away from his door frame and sneak into the living room. The couch greets you again. Inviting, soft. It smells like turtle ass. Popcorn. Movie night. It smells like family, like home. Scratchy beneath your cheek. You’ve been meaning to get them some new pillows. The way Mikey had laughed so hard he’d snorted his drink. Leo’s squawk when it got all over him. The weight of Donnie’s arm on your shoulder when he’d leaned on you while laughing until he got the hiccups. His cologne, new, smells nice. You should tell him tomorrow.

(You can’t tell him. There’s no way for a best friend to look at the other with pupils shaped like hearts and be the same. You can’t tell him.)

Heavily, you sigh. It’s late. You can’t sleep.

You sit up. Get up off the couch. Stretch a little before exhaling and walking around a bit to try and work off some of this excess energy. The darkness of the living room isn’t so much, anymore, what with how your eyes have adjusted. You can see the pieces of the evening strewn about. A pizza box that Splinter’s going to find in the morning and yell at the lot of you for not throwing out. Raph’s teddy bear, leaning against the other couch where he’d been pretending he hadn’t been using it to hide his face in the scary parts. Mikey’s cup, half-full, forgotten in Leo’s panic to find paper towels. And—

—Donnie, standing in the doorway, bleary-eyed, arms folded. 

“Why are you awake?” he asks, voice tumbling over your ears like rocks on a riverbed. Guilt strikes you like a blow. He’s exhausted. You’ve woken him up.

“I’m sorry,” you say as an answer, tangling your fingers in the shirt you’d borrowed out of his closet. The shirt you always borrow. The shirt that’s half yours, now. 

Donnie’s quiet. You sink your teeth into your lower lip and hope he’ll shrug and go back to bed. Maybe, if he’s lucky, he’s got enough sleep juice in him that he’ll drift right back off and forget this happened. 

He doesn’t. “…Can’t sleep?”

The guilt burns your skin like sand in the wind. You smile and pretend. “I’ll be okay. Go back to bed, Don. You need it more than I do.”

He doesn’t. 

“…Please?” you try again. 

You’re met, instead, with a sigh. He rubs the back of his head where his mask would tie if he were wearing it. Lets his arm fall to his side—ah, except no. He’s holding out his hand, palm outstretched, inviting you to come close. When you don’t, his beak wrinkles. “Come here.” 

You take a few steps closer, but don’t take his hand just yet. “What are you doing?”

“Just come here,” he says again, curling his fingers a few times in an imperious grabby command. You come closer. He opens his tired eyes in a squint, mouth dipped into a frown, and his gesture gets more demanding. “Come here.” 

Stepping closer, closer, closer, finally you get within range. You realize he wants your hand the moment he loses patience with you, watching as he rolls his eyes and reaches out to encircle your wrist with strong fingers. They eclipse the bones there easily, tugging as he turns, pulling you out of the living room. 

“Don—” you start to protest, but he stops you with a breath.

“Stubborn,” he accuses, though there’s no heat to the word. The scoff is thick on the back of your tongue—Donnie of all people calling you stubborn—but you don’t let it out, knowing it’ll be too-loud in the pitch night. 

He pulls you into his room, the very room that had been such a sweet siren song to you earlier. He pulls you towards his bed. He pulls you in behind him when he settles in. He pulls you beneath his blanket. He pulls, pulls, pulls, until your chest is flush to his plastron and his arm is around your waist and his breath is in your face and your heart is in your throat.

It’s late. You’re not going to be able to sleep.

“…Go to sleep,” he says after a few seconds, doubtless able to feel the way your pulse is like a hummingbird against his skin. 

“Sorry,” you say in lieu of—anything else. You don’t dare try to say another word, unsure of what exactly would tumble out instead. Perhaps a sweet poem about the texture of his skin against yours. Maybe a lament that he feels the need to tuck his thigh between yours so so so close to where you wake in a pool of sweat dreaming of his touch. Or possibly a whispered confession that tastes like lightning and blood and sugar all at the same time; that you want this but not this, you want this but more. 

Gently, a forehead bonks against yours. Dark eyes open and meet yours, centimeters away. He studies you, and you watch the gears turn. More slowly than usual, lethargic even, because of his slumber. 

“You’re thinking too much,” he murmurs. Dumbly, you nod. “Need to talk about it?”

“…Yeah,” you admit, then, “…but I won’t.”

He doesn’t like that. A frown mars his beautiful, beautiful face. 

“Why?”

You swallow the incredulous laugh, the kaleidoscope of responses. They’re all irrelevant, impossible to share, save for one. “You should sleep.”

Donnie’s hand tightens, fingers curling in his—your—shirt in the small of your back. “So should you.”

“Yeah.”

“…”

“…”

“…I don’t understand.” The confession, rare, makes you sigh. 

“…I don’t either,” you tell him. And you don’t. Why did you have to feel this way for him? Why couldn’t it be someone easier that stole your heart? Why does it have to be the one person you can’t stand to lose? Why does he have to be so comfortable touching you like this and making it hurt even worse? Why can’t you stop feeling this way?

Why can’t you sleep? Why can’t you sleep? 

His fingers unfurl from your shirt. His hand dips beneath the hem, finding the skin of your back. Slow shivers spread like little earthquakes as he strokes along your spine, tectonic caresses that ripple and destroy. It's familiar enough a touch that you don't stop him; unfamiliar enough that it rends you inside out.

Donnie leans in. Ghosts his lips along your jaw. It’s not a kiss; you’re just friends, after all. But it’s a sweet caress that feels good, all the way to where he lingers at your ear, whispering there, quivering at the touch that's too close to something else to be fair. “Close your eyes.”

You have one rule: listen to Donatello. So you do; you close your eyes, let his nails drag down your back, let his mouth press warm into your pulse, let his chest rumble with churrs that fill the night air with something akin to a lullaby. His legs curl around yours, mixing, confusing, making the separation of you disappear. 

It’s… maddening. You hate this. You love him. You love him so much. You hate that he can do this so easily. 

“Shhh,” comes the gentle coo against your skin, like he can tell you’re pulling away from his intent. You obey that, too. Donnie says to be quiet, so you quiet. Thoughts, movements, words; all of them fall away at his beckoning. “Just like that. Good.”

Good, you think, feeling a little fuzzy. It feels good to be good for him. God. You’d be so good for him—but no. None of that, now. Not when you can pretend that these little presses of his lips are kisses. That the thickness of his thigh pressed to your shorts means something. That his hand scratching lines in your skin is something meant to claim as much as it is to calm.

“Making me work for it tonight,” you hear him mumble, half-conscious of the words, not sure if they’re real or part of a dream he’s built for you. “Good job, sweetheart. Just like that.” 

More brushes of his mouth. A slow glide of tongue. A lovely dream, you think, finally letting your muscles go slack. A dream of a Donatello who would hold you like this, talk to you like this. A Donatello who is more than just your best friend.

It’s late. Finally, warm and held and pulled into a sweet dream, finally, you sleep.

[daandyli0n]

(warnings: blood/mild gore, implied child death (and murder in Cassidy's case), eye contact. maybe also bright colors/eyestrain)

Some Updated Refs For The Afton Family In The Rewrite

(you know the drill, click the images to see details better and whatnot)

hooo boy. give me a minute to ramble about the designs and stuff below -

William:

so. tried to give him both "Eccentric, Goofy Restaurant Owner" and "REALLY Off-Putting" Vibes. hope i succeeded

yes he's hiding a knife behind his back.

bunny features. i Love William with bunny features. if you draw William with Bunny Features ily (platonically)

this man has not gotten a good night's sleep in Years.

now...you may be wondering: Why Do His Kids Get Refs For When They're Older, But Not Him? well...that's because, physically, he doesn't change much besides getting some more gray hairs and worse eye bags in the over a decade between his original murders and his death. and i've already done a ref for what O'Hare/Springtrap looks like in my design

yes, the Unhinged look in his eyes is intentional.

Alex:

gave his younger self a pose that was meant to give off "rebellious teenager" vibes, and his older self a pose that gives off "bitter and anxious" vibes.

gave him long hair. because Yes.

tallest of his siblings.

Michael:

looks like his father, but with a few minor changes: skin is mildly more tanned than his father, hair is a lighter shade of brown, etc.

William based the 1987 uniforms for the guards/employees off of his own usual outfit (Purple. which Backfired).

Mike tried to change his hair a bit to distinguish himself from his father, mostly by dying it a bright red and trying to cut the Bunny Ear-Shaped parts on the top of his hair to be more jagged and less Bunny-Like.

scars on his arm are from where Springtrap grabbed onto him.

Evan:

not much to say. bookworm, sad guy, probably needs to go to therapy for what happened in his childhood.

Elizabeth:

Bunny Features :]

she's basically somewhere between blonde and ginger hair color wise. i'd describe her as a strawberry blonde.

constantly has a wide-eyed look. like a hare.

mismatched socks, just because she could.

ghosts are typically either desaturated or transparent, with the only bright colors on them are usually their eyes or the bloody wounds from their death.

so while it's not shown here, "fun" fact! Liz died from where Harriet (Circus Baby) hugged her hard enough to break not just her spine, but her neck as well. (the hug was so strong due to Harriet malfunctioning that day)

all ghosts who have their souls tied to an animatronic have a mask of that animatronic that they can wear if they wish. Liz's mask is of Harriet.

Cassidy:

my baby boy. my beloved <3

those pants are pajama pants. he wore them everywhere.

while not visible, Cassidy also wears mismatched socks like Liz.

the Fredbear plush was a gift from Henry, given to Cassidy by Charlie.

was blind in one eye after The Bite.

The Bite wasn't as horrible as people think it was. what basically happened was that the teeth bit slightly into his head, which caused the bleeding, as well as some cracking in the skull and brain damage in his frontal lobe. due to the mechanisms in Fredbear being Very hot as well, it caused some burns. nothing that couldn't heal, but...it Was still pretty serious.

while The Bite itself didn't kill Cassidy, he still, as a ghost, appears to have a bleeding section of his head.

the strangulation marks on his neck are more visible as a ghost.

Cassidy, as a spirit, can occasionally leak a mysterious black fluid from his eyes and mouth, which is reflected on his Mask.

Cassidy is transparent as a ghost.

anyway!! here's the guys!!

@that-darn-clown @hello-there-world

[gtwscratch]

This Heart of Mine is Guilty (And Remorseful)

Summary: Grian breaks the rules of the games for Scar, and Scar confronts him about it. (set in Secret Life)

CW: Mentions of past cheating/killing/stealing, character self-deprecating

Word count: 1,233

=====================================

“He needs to log out..!” Grian says as he watches the Wither chase Scar, panicked.

“He can’t, we’re in the middle of a session, Grian,” Cleo responds, also a bit panicked, but she hides it better.

“I know but..! He can’t lose his first life..!” Grian doesn’t finish his sentence, but he can’t get the words out of his head.

He can’t lose his first life because of me again.

Grian knows he’s been awful to Scar. He knows he’s messed up over and over again. He’s let the urges of being a red life take him over and ended up killing Scar on more than one occasion. He’s stolen a life from him and lost it not even twenty minutes later. He’s cheated on him after finding out they were quite literally soulmates.

And yet, after all of that, Scar has shown him nothing but love and kindness and admiration and-

All Grian knows is that he has to stop this.

He watches Scar stumble and slow down, narrowly missing getting hit by a skull, and Grian feels something. There’s an itch just beneath his skin to do something—anything—and his wings puff up a little from the panic. Without really thinking, he pulls out his comm.

<Grian> Scar log out

<Grian> Scar log out

<Grian> Scar log out

Distantly, Cleo is talking, but Grian doesn’t hear her. All he can hear are hushed and angry whispers. The edges of his vision are purple as he continuously types out the message, praying that Scar is going to be able to read it.

Players are never able to log out in times of extreme danger like this—the Watchers make sure of that. But Grian himself isn’t a regular player. He’s mentioned changing the rules before, but he’s never actually tried to do anything. So maybe, just maybe..

Grian’s heart leaps to his throat as he sees Scar pull out his comm on the shore, nearly dropping it. He reads over the messages.

<GoodTimesWithScar had left the game.>

Grian could cry. His legs feel shaky, and his hand goes to cover his mouth with relief and shock. He did it. He actually managed to save Scar.

Grian feels lighter than he has since the desert.

He suddenly remembers that he’s not alone and looks over to Cleo who’s staring back at him with wide eyes.

“.. How did you do that?” she asks, wariness in her voice.

“Um..” Grian can’t think of a good excuse, so he settles for, “I’ll tell you later. We need to go.”

===============================

Grian knew there was going to be a punishment for saving Scar. The Watchers would never have let that happen so easily. And of course Grian doesn’t regret breaking the rules for Scar—he’d do it again in a heartbeat—but now his wings ache, and his back feels exposed as his secondary and most of his primary feathers have withered away. He’s also lost a life.

He’s exhausted after defeating the Wither, and it shows. He nearly stumbles, but a strong hand catches his arm.

“Woah there, take it easy, G.” Grian relaxes as he hears Scar speak and steadies himself with the man’s help.

“Thank you,” he breathes out, looking up at Scar’s green eyes. Oh, what Grian wouldn’t do for them to stay that beautiful green color.

Scar’s eyebrows are furrowed in concern, and he starts to lead Grian a bit away from the group of people celebrating the defeat of the Wither. When they’re out of earshot, Scar speaks up.

“Why did you do that?”

“What’re you talking about?” Even though he’s tired, Grian tries to play dumb.

The man sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You shouldn’t have used your powers like that for me.”

For a moment, Grian is alarmed before remembering he told Scar about the Watchers (and how he was one of them) while they were both half asleep and cuddling in some past season. Neither of them had spoken about it afterwards when they were more awake, so Grian had figured that Scar didn’t remember. Looks like he was wrong.

This time, he doesn’t deny anything strange happening. “In my defense, I didn’t for sure know if that would work or not.”

“Doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t have tried it at all.”

“But you were in trouble.”

“Grian, it’s me! I’m always in trouble!” Scar shouts.

Grian’s wings (or what’s left of them) puff up, a bit agitated. He was finally trying to do something right, and Scar didn’t seem to care. “Whatever, what’s done is done. It doesn’t matter.”

Grian’s a little startled when Scar grabs his arms, and he’s even more startled to see the anguish in Scar’s eyes.

“But it does matter!! You lost a life!! Oh, and your pretty wings.. I’m not worth that..”

“No, you stop that.” Scar’s words strike something deep within Grian. This is his fault. He’s the reason Scar doesn’t think he’s worth this kind of sacrifice.

“But I’m not! You are.. everything.. and I’m just me,” Scar says quietly. “So please.. don’t do that again.”

“.. No.”

Scar blinks. “What?”

“You heard me. I’m going to risk my life again for you if I can.” Grian doesn’t think he’s ever been so sure in something before.

Scar’s look of agony is now primarily replaced with confusion. “You-! We’re not even allies, let alone on the same team! Why are you so-!”

“Because I’m not hurting you again!” Grian quickly answers before Scar can even finish the question.

He didn’t really mean to say it—Grian just sort of blurted it out without thinking. He’s never been one to show any kind of vulnerability. However, unlike past instances, Grian doesn’t look or feel ashamed of the revelation. Instead, he stands his ground and speaks confidently (as confidently as he can as the adrenaline wears off.)

When Scar doesn’t respond, Grian continues. “I have been the cause of so much of your suffering in these games. Please, let me save you from something I caused for once.”

He watches as Scar’s expression softens, and he takes a step forward, pulling Grian into a gentle hug. Grian immediately reciprocates, clinging onto the back of Scar’s shawl like the man will disappear if he lets go.

“Grian,” he starts softly, “you know I don’t blame you for any of that, right?”

He doesn’t respond, and the silence is all the answer Scar needs.

“Well, I don’t. I know you didn’t want to do those things. You didn’t have a choice—none of us do. Everything that happened is in the past now. Yeah, it hurt a lot, but I knew it wasn’t really you.

“This is you. You’re trying to make amends for something I’m not mad at you for.” His hand slides to Grian’s waist, rubbing his thumb up and down against the fabric to reassure the avian.

“And, void, I do appreciate the effort, but please don’t be reckless.” Scar kisses the top of Grian’s head, eliciting a soft trill from his throat.

He leans more into Scar, feeling like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. “You’re one to talk,” he mumbles. He finally lets the exhaustion of the day wear on him.

Scar chuckles softly and easily picks up the smaller man. “C’mon, you need to lay down.”

As Scar carries Grian off to find a bed, Grian starts to get more drowsy. He rests his head against Scar’s chest, and the steady beating of Scar’s heart soothes him into sleep.

Scar is still green.

I saved him.

=====================================

AHHH THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE AND SUPPORT WITH THE FIRST ONE SHOT!!! I wasn’t expecting so many likes and reblogs!! :DDD

I’m so excited to keep postinggggg :)))

I have one more one shot already in the works, but after that, I’m not sure when the next one will be. Maybe I’ll aim for weekly posts? Not sure yet.

[kentuckyfriedsatan]

🍁Midnight Secrets🍁

Not part of Kinktober, so completely sfw!

No warnings that I could think of, maybe a bit of anxiety because of a misunderstanding

Read it here or on Ao3!

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🍂๋࣭ 🦇⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Phantom has always been a bit wary of Mountain and Aether since being summoned. Sure, they’re kind, but their size and intensity can be… unsettling for someone new to the pack.

Lately, though, things have gotten even weirder. He keeps catching them whispering in hushed tones whenever he enters the room, and they’ve been sneaking off together during the evenings. It’s the looks they give him that are the worst. Whenever they see him, they exchange these knowing glances, like they’re hiding something.

One night, Phantom overhears part of their conversation and nearly jumps out of his skin when he catches Aether saying, “We’ll need something sharp for this. It has to be perfect.” Mountain rumbles in agreement: “Sharp is good. We don’t want it falling apart before we’re done.”

Phantom’s anxiety skyrockets. Sharp? Falling apart? His imagination runs wild-are they planning to do something to him? Are they going to ambush him? He remembers how Mountain’s massive hands could easily crush anything, but he can’t really imagine them being this sinister.

Over the next few days, Phantom can’t shake his suspicions. He keeps catching them making these cryptic comments like, “We’ll need to hide it,” or “It’s not good enough yet, but we’ll finish it soon.” And one day, he stumbles across Mountain’s bag left carelessly on a chair-inside, he sees long, pointed objects wrapped in yarn. Phantom’s eyes widen. Knives? Or worse? The growing dread in his chest is hard to ignore.

They’ve also started closing off one of the towers and locking the door whenever they sneak in there at night. Phantom knows something is up. He tries to convince himself he’s just overthinking it, maybe they’re working on a project? But every time they exchange those glances and drop vague hints about “hiding the evidence” and “covering their tracks,” he can’t help but feel like he’s the target.

Finally, after hearing them whisper about “midnight being the perfect time,” Phantom decides to take matters into his own hands. He’s going to follow them and see what they’re really up to.

That night Phantom quietly follows them up to the old tower. His heart pounds in his chest as he creeps closer to the door. He can hear muffled voices inside, along with soft music and the occasional clatter of… something. Are they sharpening weapons? He swallows hard and presses his ear to the door, catching snippets of their conversation.

“I hope this doesn’t make him uncomfortable,” Aether says softly.

“Yeah,” Mountain replies, his deep voice rumbling through the walls. “It’s going to be a bit snug, but I think he’ll like it once he gets used to it.”

Phantom’s pulse races. Snug? What are they planning to trap him in?!

Gathering his courage, he pushes the door open, ready to confront them. But what he finds is far from the dark ritual or sinister plot he’d imagined.

Inside the tower, Mountain and Aether are seated comfortably by a large, crackling fireplace. They’re surrounded by colorful yarn, knitting needles, and a half-finished sweater lying across Mountain’s lap. The music playing is soft and soothing, casting a warm, peaceful atmosphere over the room. Two mugs of tea seem to have been abandoned on a little table.

Phantom blinks, completely stunned. Mountain is clumsily but carefully knitting what looks like a sweater, his massive hands awkwardly holding the delicate needles. Aether, more practiced, is working on a detailed design-a bat in the center of the otherwise purple sweater.

They both look up at him, startled.

“Phantom?” Mountain says, his eyes wide with surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“I—uh…” Phantom stammers, completely thrown off by the sight. “I thought… you were… plotting something?”

Aether chuckles, shaking his head. “Plotting to finish this sweater before it gets too cold outside, maybe.”

Phantom stares, speechless, as Mountain holds up the nearly completed sweater.

“We’ve been working on this for you,” Mountain says with a small grin. “A little welcome gift. We noticed you like bats.”

Phantom feels a mixture of confusion and embarrassment well up inside him.

“Wait… this is what you’ve been whispering about? Knitting?”

Aether nods. “We didn’t want you to find out too soon, so we kept sneaking off to work on it in secret. We thought it’d be a nice surprise.”

Phantom flushes, a wave of relief and amusement washing over him.

“So when you said it needed to be sharp and not fall apart…”

Mountains laugh is rich and deep.

“We were talking about the knitting needles and making sure the seams held together. Knitting can be a bit tricky for big hands.”

Phantom finally starts to relax, realizing how absurd his suspicions had been. The warm glow from the fireplace fills the room with a golden light, casting flickering shadows on the walls as the soft sound of knitting needles clinks in the background. Mountain hands him the nearly finished sweater, and Phantom runs his fingers over the soft material, a smile tugging at his lips.

“You made this… for me?” Phantom asks to confirm, his voice soft.

“We wanted you to feel like part of the group,” Mountain explains, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s getting colder, and we figured you’d need something warm. And the bat’s because, well… we know you love them.”

His heart swells, they noticed what he likes, and they remembered.

And for the rest of the night, Phantom sits with his pack mates, learning how to knit by the light of the fire as the autumn wind whispers outside. The nervous tension he’d carried for days melts away, replaced with a deep sense of belonging and peace.

The sweater wasn’t just a sweater. It was a gesture of acceptance. It meant he isn’t just the new guy anymore. He is part of the pack.

[its-jaytothemee]

Until I Met You - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Introductions

Pairings: Halsin x Tav

Word count: 3,898

Rating: Currently M, will be Explicit in later chapters.

Read on AO3

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Summary: A slow burn Tav and Halsin romance fic about their relationship forming between the major events of Baldur's Gate 3, and probably a little bit after too. Explores Tav's friendships with some of the other companions, but mainly Karlach. Lots of longing and fluff, including plenty of soft Halsin moments.

Tags: Slow burn, hurt/comfort, love confessions, eventual smut, light angst, implied past rape/non-con

A/N: After starting another playthrough specifically to romance Halsin, I decided to write some additional details of how their relationship forms throughout the game. Not sure how many chapters there will be yet...we'll see where the game takes me :) There will be POVs from both Tav and Halsin throughout the fic. Enjoy!

The disgusting sight of the goblin camp was bested only by the smell that assaulted the group’s nostrils as they strolled through the mucked-up halls.

“Ugh, goblins are such vile little beasts. Remind me why we agreed to come here?” Tav could hear the eye roll in Astarion’s tone.

“Because Astarion, there’s a medically talented Archdruid who can maybe help rid us of these tadpoles who is being held and probably tortured by these little beasts.” She tried to keep her voice down but found it hard to stay quiet while keeping up with Astarion’s quips.

“Speak for yourself, my friend. My tadpole and I are getting along swimmingly. I can walk in the sun, wade through rivers, and enter any home I like. I’m living the dream.” He teased back at her.

“All good points. I’ll make sure to remind you of them when your skin is turning purple and sprouting tentacles.” She turned back with a smile just in time to catch Astarion’s playful glare.

“Hey soldier, eyes up. Archers on the beams.” Karlach had her eyes fixed above them on the two goblins patrolling the large chamber.

“Best exercise caution. I might remind you all that goblins come by dozens when one of those war drums sounds off.” Gale was clutching his staff with a white-knuckled grip.

They carefully continued exploring the unfamiliar temple, on the lookout for anything that could give them a clue to Halsin’s whereabouts. Tav had thought the mercenaries and tiefling refugees may have been exaggerating about the goblins. But now that they were here amid their den of depravity, she was starting to doubt the abilities of her party – and herself. The numbers alone were enough to overwhelm them even if Karlach could cleave three goblins at a time.

In one of the far corners, Astarion spotted a small path that wound around into a back room. There was a door guarded by a few goblins, but they were able to pass by them easily while still passing as ‘True Souls.’ The air around them somehow smelled worse as they walked into the next room. The mix of decaying flesh and the worg pens caused them all to gag slightly. Several small laughs and squeals drew their attention towards another prison cell, inside was a very large cave bear. Two young goblins were throwing stones at the bear huddled in the corner of the cage. Tav quickly and quietly cast Speak with Animals just as the bear’s eyes locked on to hers.

“Stop them…free me.” The bear growled. Listening to its voice, Tav noticed the smallest tone difference between this bear and other animals she had spoken to in the past. Given Rath’s description of Halsin, she was almost certain this bear was the Archdruid they had been searching for.

“Again! Again!” One of the young goblins squealed, picking up another rock. Tav jogged up to them.

“He’s helpless! Let him go.” She demanded.

“Tav, what are you doing? We can’t stop to help every furry creature in need.” Astarion didn’t even try to hide his disapproval. She turned around to glare at him and called on their shared tadpole.

“Astarion! Use whatever piece of your brain the tadpole hasn’t eaten yet. This is obviously Halsin from the Emerald Grove.” She held her glare until he seemed to understand their situation. He let out an exaggerated sigh and backed off.

Gale groaned behind her, realizing that they were probably going to be fighting off the several goblins and worgs in the room with them.

“The beast is stayin’ right ‘ere.” The older goblin responded, taking a step towards Tav.

“I’m ending this. Now.” She growled back. The bear let out a small roar in response.

“Time for blood.” Its voice was a low snarl.

Before she had a chance to react, the cave bear rammed into the cell doors, effortlessly breaking them from their hinges. The older goblin was crushed beneath the heavy iron, causing a scream from the two younger ones.

“The guards! Get the guards!” One of the little ones yelled. They both turned to run past Tav and her party.

“Those little brats are going to bring this whole fucking camp down on us!” Astarion yelled, daggers twirling in his hands.

“Then take care of it you whiny prick!” Tav yelled back at him, lunging for the goblin that was looking after the worgs. Karlach followed suit, jumping back up the stairs to swing at a goblin that had been butchering some suspicious looking meat.

“We’re killing children now?!” Gale cried from the top of the stairs. A thin line of ice shot from his hands to the goblin archer approaching them from the rear.

“Goblin children, darling. Hardly a moral dilemma.” Astarion responded, driving his dagger into the chest of the first young goblin.

“Perhaps but still, I think we should discuss –” Gale started to respond but let out a strangled yell that interrupted him. When Tav looked back she saw an arrow sticking out of his neck, and blood was starting to spew from his mouth. Another arrow suddenly struck him in the chest. He made a small choking sound before collapsing to the floor.

“Shit! Gale’s down!” Tav yelled. When she turned away, the goblin she was fighting tried to make a swipe at her but was quickly taken down by the cave bear that had rushed to her side.

“He’s going to have to wait! We can’t risk these little monsters alerting the rest of the camp.” Astarion was slicing his blade across the throat of the other young goblin.

Tav drew her bow and shot two arrows into the worg pens, easily landing the shots right between their eyes. She could hear Gale’s labored breaths, the sound was warped by the blood spilling into his throat. Karlach took her goblin out with one more clean swing of her axe and turned to the archer.

“I’ll get Gale, take that archer down!” Tav yelled. The others all moved in to surround the last goblin as Tav dashed over to him. She quickly looked him over, ready to remove the arrow in his neck so she could heal him. Before she could start the spell, she heard one last raspy gurgle come from Gale before his body went limp.

“Fuck.” Tav whispered under her breath. She pulled her pack to the front of her waist and started frantically searching through it. They had found a couple of revivification scrolls on their journey that she was certain she had stored in her pack somewhere. Just as she started to search through the pockets, the air around her became thick with the smell of death.

“What the…” She started to exclaim before she became horribly sick, necrotic energy swirled all around her. Startled and struggling to breathe, she jumped back a few feet away from Gale’s body, allowing her to cough the toxic air from her lungs.

The last goblin’s body fell to the floor with a soft thud. Karlach and Astarion walked back down to join Tav, examining Gale and the small cloud of death encircling his lifeless body.

“Terribly tragic, always a sad day when you lose a friend. Oh well, best we keep moving before these goblins catch wind of our little fight.” Astarion said, waving his hand in the air nonchalantly and starting to walk away.

“Astarion…” Tav grumbled and turned to shoot him a warning glare. He smiled sweetly in response.

Before they could say anything else, an illusion of Gale popped up in front of Tav, causing a small scream to escape her lips.

“Well met! I am a magical projection of Gale of Waterdeep, and if you see this manifestation, that means I have prematurely perished.”

“Oh for fucks’ sake Gale…” Tav pressed one hand to her forehead, already exasperated by Gale’s afterlife theatrics.

“…it is of vital importance that my death be remedied at your earliest convenience.”

“How am I supposed to bring you back then?” Tav asked, annoyed.

The three of them sat and listened to Gale’s projection list a very detailed description of his security protocol to receive a scroll of true resurrection. First, they had to retrieve a small pouch from his robes which Astarion deftly picked from his pocket. To open the pouch, they had to unwind the purple cord in a counterclockwise motion. Inside, they found a small flute and a folded letter with notes in the corners that they would have to play. Next, a magma mephit was supposed to appear and pose the question ‘I’ss k’cha t’chiss n’aga’ to which the answer should be K’ha’ssji’trach’ash. The mephit would then give them the scroll.

“Well shit.” Tav muttered. “Does anyone know how to play a flute?”

Karlach and Astarion shrugged in response, the panic they felt evident on their faces.

“I at least caught the mephit name!” Karlach offered.

“Gods above, Gale!” Tav yelled. “What are the chances that whoever you’re dying around knows how to play a fucking flute?!” She waved the small instrument in front of the projection’s face, whose expression didn’t change. While she continued berating the magical illusion in front of her, she failed to hear the magical whoosh behind her.

“…and even if we do figure this out, it won’t matter! Because I’m going to punch you so hard that I send you in to the beyond again! And then I’ll revive you, just to choke the life out of you so we get to do this shitshow all over again!” Tav was stomping and screaming at the projection now. She noticed Karlach and Astarion staring past her, bewildered looks on both of their faces. Was Astarion…blushing?

“Excuse me,” A deep voice called out from behind her, “perhaps I could be of some assistance? It’s the least I could do.” She could only assume it belonged to Halsin.

 “Look, I know we came here to free you and all and yes, we will need your help but right now our melodramatic friend has…” She had whipped around ready to tear into the mysterious addition to their group, but her breath caught once she was able to fully look at the Archdruid.

Tav wasn’t sure what she had been expecting to see when they met Halsin, but it certainly wasn’t the large, handsome elf standing in front of her. She was rather large for an elf, but Halsin made her feel tiny. Her mouth was hanging open, unable to form words as she stared him down. His smile was enchanting, his tanned skin covered in blood from their fight.

“I owe you my thanks, I am the druid Halsin. I did not expect to meet the acquaintance of someone who would not only speak with a bear, but free it too. I’m always happy to meet another true friend of nature. And you are?”

“I’m…” Tav sputtered, “…single.” Her voice was barely a whisper. She shook her head to regain some semblance of composure. She could hear Astarion giggling like a child behind her.

“Tav…my name is Tav.” She finally blurted out.

“Oakfather preserve you, Tav. Now I’d be happy to…”

Halsin was speaking but she wasn’t really listening to his words. She saw that he was holding his hand out to her. Without thinking, she placed her hand in his and gave a soft handshake, interrupting him. He gave her a confused look, still smiling.

“As I was saying, I know how to play the flute if that would help to resurrect your friend.” He was still smiling at her.

Tav’s face and chest turned a deep red and she yanked her hand back quickly. Astarion burst out laughing behind her, almost falling over. Karlach at least had the decency to try and cover her laugh. She handed over the small flute and quickly unfolded the paper, holding it in front of her face to try and hide her blush.

“Okay so his instructions said to play the notes listed in the corners of the pages, starting in the bottom right, and working our way around the page clockwise. I’ll read them off to you. Ready?” She asked, peeking over the page at Halsin. He gave a small nod, flute held up to his lips.

“D…” The first note floated through the air.

“E…” Halsin switched gracefully to the next note.

“A…” Another note rang in across the room. Tav paused before reading the last note, fighting the urge to roll her eyes.

“…D…” The last note echoed off the walls slightly mixing with the groans of her companions. Of course his resurrection tune spelled out ‘dead.’

A small magma mephit appeared in front of them.

“I’ss k’cha t’chiss n’aga.” He asked.

“K’ha’ssji’trach’ash!” Karlach responded, excited to help.

“D’a jah’jah s’um!” The mephit leaned forward as Tav held the folded paper in front of her. The small note transformed into an ornate scroll. She turned back to Gale as the mephit vanished.

Tav read the incantation and felt a warm swirling energy gather around her. It was quickly transferred to Gale who disappeared momentarily. He reappeared in front of her, standing and gasping for air. His hands shot up to his neck, feeling the area where the arrow had pierced him. Then he started laughing.

“You did it! Oh it feels good to be alive. I’m sorry to say my hands are still quite cold, so a handshake will have –” Gale was interrupted by Tav punching him in the gut, letting out a loud grunt.

“That was for your ridiculous protocol. What if we couldn’t find someone who could have played the flute? What if you had died and we weren’t around? We need to do something about that orb, Gale.” Tav was yelling again, she wasn’t truly angry with him though. She had come to like Gale, seeing him dead had upset her more than she cared to admit.

“You know the volatility of my condition, Tav. The element of mystery helps persuade others to keep me amongst the living. Sore abdominals aside…I sincerely thank you.” He wheezed back.

“You’re welcome,” Tav sighed, “and welcome back.” She nudged his arm slightly.

“Thank you for your help.” Tav looked back over to Halsin. “I suppose proper introductions are in order.” She wanted to put her embarrassing display from earlier behind her.

“This is Gale, that’s Karlach back there, and Astarion standing next to her.” She pointed to each of her companions as she introduced them. Karlach waved enthusiastically, Gale was still bent over catching his breath, and Astarion wiggled his fingers seductively in their direction.

“A pleasure, truly. Might I ask how you found me?” Halsin looked between the four of them.

“We’ve been to the Emerald Grove, it’s in danger.” Tav responded. She quickly filled Halsin in on their adventure so far. Kagha’s alliance with the Shadow Druids, the cult of the Absolute, the mercenaries that had escaped from the goblins. She paused, trying to decide if she should tell him about the tadpoles yet. Before she could continue, Halsin held a hand out in front of her.

“That look in your eyes…” He said quietly. A golden glow surrounded her as Halsin closed his eyes in concentration.

“Oakfather preserve you child, you’re infected, aren’t you?” He jerked his hand back to his side. Tav placed a hand on her sword, prepared for a fight. Halsin held his hands up innocently.

“It’s no coincidence that you found me, I wager. I’ve been studying these tadpoles. They’re different from how mind flayers typically procreate.”

Halsin launched into a summary of his research surrounding the tadpoles. Of course, there wasn’t going to be a simple cure for their affliction. He confirmed that their tadpoles were special, altered, just as they suspected. He was also able to give them their next destination, Moonrise Towers. She froze at the mention of Moonrise. It was their first solid lead since the nautiloid crashed, but the news filled Tav with dread. She knew all too well the evil that besieged that land. Without thinking, she stepped close to Halsin, leaning in so only he could hear her. She reached up and grabbed his arm, trying to keep her balance.

“You’re sure that’s where we need to go?” She asked quietly, in Elvish. “That is no easy task.”

His expression softened and he gave her a knowing look in response.

“You know of this place?” He lowered his voice to match hers, as smooth as his voice was before, it was nothing compared to hearing him speak their native tongue.

“Unfortunately, yes. I would not go back there unless I had no other choice.” Tav’s hand was starting to shake slightly against his arm, but he placed his other hand over hers to steady it. His hands were lightly calloused but warm and comforting. She felt the blushing feeling returning to her face.

“It will be dangerous, but it can be done. And perhaps, we can see the light there again.” He whispered back. His voice was hopeful, but his face was a mask of pain.

We? Before she could respond, she heard Astarion clear his throat loudly.

“Care to include us in your little whispers, darlings?” He practically sang the words.

Tav quickly let go of Halsin but noticed his hand lingered on hers for just a fraction of a second longer.

“Don’t be jealous, love. There’s enough of me to go around.” She composed herself and flashed a teasing grin at him.

“Thank you, Halsin. At least we know where to go now.” Tav turned back to face him.

“Wait,” He called after her, “I could accompany you if you’ll have me. I’ve long sought to return to Moonrise.”

“Great!” Tav said a little too quickly. “We just have to find a way to sneak through this camp and we can get you back to the Emerald Grove. Could you shift into something small so we can sneak you out? Like a mouse or a bird?”

“I cannot do that.” Halsin said, his voice lower than before.

“So much for a powerful Archdruid.” Astarion murmured. Halsin pursed his lips.

“I cannot allow these butchers to continue to threaten the Grove. I have no right to ask it of you, but if you would lend me your aid in removing the goblins’ leadership, I would be free to join you on your journey.”

Tav considered his offer for a moment. They were a capable group of fighters, but there was an alarming number of goblins between them and the three leaders. Even with Halsin, she wasn’t sure if they could fight their way out. Then she thought back to the refugees, the tieflings sheltered in the Grove. Even if they could sneak past the entire camp, Zevlor and his kin would never be able to survive on the road. Halsin was right, they needed to take out the leaders.

“Having a shapeshifting bear-druid at my side might make things easier.” She smiled at him and held out her hand. “Welcome to the team.”

He smiled back at her and clasped her forearm, once again lingering just a little longer than she would have expected.

***

Halsin let go of Tav’s arm and took a moment to catch his breath. He had been in his bear form for days now, standing on two legs made him feel a little uneasy at the moment. The four strange adventurers in front of him had huddled close together, plotting their plan of attack on the goblin leaders.

His eyes wandered to Tav, who seemed to be their leader. A picture of elven beauty in his humble opinion. Her long white-blonde hair was tied back in a braid that was currently slung over one of her shoulders, several strands had worked their way out of the confines of the braid and swirled around her head. The long scar that ran over her nose and right cheek looked like it had been caused by a claw of some kind based on the shape of the edges. She had a rugged look to her, like she had been in the wilds long before she was abducted by mind flayers. But something was off. He listened as she strung together a plan with her companions, effortlessly doling out assignments and orders, commanding their attention despite their tired state. There was a noble air about her, but he hardly knew of any nobles who would prefer stomping around in the wilderness over the comforts of their estates.

Seeing her now, it was hard to believe their initial awkward encounter had happened. She seemed so confident and sure of herself talking with her companions. He wasn’t a stranger to others being caught off guard by his appearance. Given her own beauty he was surprised that she would have any trouble forming words of flattery. She seemed witty enough and happy to flirt back at the pale elf in her company. He would have assumed she had suitors lined up from here to Neverwinter, so why would he elicit such a flustered response from her? Regardless, he would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a slight pull in his chest looking at her. It had been quite some time since anyone looked at him with any kind of desire in their eyes. As for her awkward fumbling, he found it rather endearing. He pushed the thoughts away for now, he couldn’t allow himself to be distracted, not when he finally had a chance to correct so many of the mistakes from his past.

At some point while he was lost in his thoughts, Tav had summoned a large wolf to her side. The beast paced around her protectively, the smells in this wretched hideout were no doubt overwhelming to it. Halsin met its eyes, causing the wolf to freeze. He kept calm, careful not to startle it. Making a small lap around the others, it walked over to stand in front of him, still crouched in a protective stance.

“Lunari! Here girl!” Tav shouted.

Halsin carefully lowered his eyes, continuing to stand still. The wolf tentatively circled around him, sniffing around his legs. Seeming satisfied, she moved back over towards Tav and plopped down on her haunches in front of her, tail wagging slightly. Such a loyal creature, he thought to himself. Tav was absentmindedly scratching Lunari’s ears, causing her to lean against her legs and wag her tail faster. A friend of nature indeed.

Halsin thought back to Tav’s reaction to Moonrise. She had to know of the curse. When he looked into her eyes, he saw the same fear that had haunted his reflection for the last century. There were so few still alive who knew of that tragedy, let alone who had lived it. Now, it seemed that he may have found another who shared that burden.

“Okay, I think this gives us as good a chance as anything.” Tav’s voice rang through the room. “Anything to add?” Astarion’s hand shot up in the air, but Tav gave him a look that caused him to lower it again. She took a deep breath and motioned for them to head for the door. Halsin took the cue to wildshape back into his bear form. He padded up behind Tav, braced and ready to follow her into battle.

[kairithemang0]

curtwen masquerade ball curt dips owen in a ballroom dance can't see owen blush like a maniac that's it that's the ask

So, would they know it's each other?

If they didn't, maybe it would have Curt being like "oh this guy is so hot..." and not knowing Owen is working with him on a mission or something

Hold on gonna just write about this and see where it goes (will not be edited, probably. very much a first draft)

Curt brings the mysterious man away from the party, his mask still draped over his face. He holds onto the man's wrists, his hands hot as he holds the cuffs of the man's suit jacket. They found a quiet corner, Curt's face still coded red under the mask. He listened to the man's laugh, which felt like being stabbed with knives of sweetness. He wanted to know if the man was as flustered as he was. He wanted to look back and ask him to take the mask off, so they can have a real face to face.

"Not used to being dipped now, are you, love?" The mysterious man pushed Curt against the wall of the corner they found themselves in, the only light illuminating the blue and purple mask of the man was the glimmer of moonlight from the window near them. Curt's clothes felt tight, he loosened his tie a bit. The mysterious man watched him like a vulture about to attack, ready to feast on all the skin Curt let himself show.

"It's not the first time, I simply wasn't expecting a man with your charms to show up tonight," Curt tried his hardest to be able to breathe, to keep his cool while his face began to burn with a mix of embarrassment and the feeling as if he could melt into the man at any second. He almost forgot he was working, still looking for his partner for the mission. Owen Carvour, he assumed he hadn't shown up yet. It gave Curt time for this moment, this sweet perfect moment.

The man touched Curt's collar, brushed a finger along where the fabric ended and Curt's skin began, "Your skin is surprisingly soft, love," he grinned under the mask, letting out a grin as Curt moved his neck away from the touch out of instinct, "You're cute, aren't you?" His accent was rich and gorgeous, Curt wanted to be surrounded by that voice he had for ages.

Curt didn't respond to that. He was a lot of things, but he would've never described himself as "cute". But if this man was saying it? Curt wanted to say as loudly as he could that he was the cutest man to ever live.

"You've gone quiet, what's on your mind?" The man's finger trailed up his neck and onto Curt's chin, before he made his way to Curt's trembling lip and pressed his finger into it just enough to where he heard Curt let out a quiet whimper, "Now that's a noise I didn't think could come out of your mouth, love."

"Yeah well, you've got a lot to learn about me," Curt choked out, he could barely hide it anymore, not that he was trying to. He felt the man's chest push against his, Curt didn't realize how close his face had gotten to his, he couldn't tell if it was his eyes playing tricks on him or if his face was really as red as Curt thought it looked. He was gorgeous either way.

The man laughed, and trailed his fingertips back down Curt's face, letting it travel lower than his collar and down to his loosened tie, loosening it more with his delicate finger, "Maybe I do. I'd say we should start with names, but this isn't the setting for that, is it?" Curt could practically smell his breath that was a mix of mint and pure sweetness that made Curt feel like he was going to go on a sugar rush just from breathing it in. Curt closed his eyes and his chest rose as the man touched the buttons on Curt's shirt, "Maybe I'll buy you a drink later, find somewhere with less risk."

Curt practically melted, and unable to contain his eagerness any longer and grabbed the man's face and kissed him. Curt strung his hands through the man's hair, as he felt the mask slip down the man's nose and fall to the floor. Curt didn't let that stop him, and the man grabbed his shoulders and pushed him hard against the wall.

The man's lips tasted just as good as Curt thought they would and was painfully disappointed when he felt him pull away. It was too short, he needed it back. Curt watched him, his brain beginning to work again. He knew the face, he recognized it even though he didn't look as flustered in the picture as he did now.

"Hello, Agent Mega. A pleasure to meet you," Owen Carvour fixed his hair and held his hand out to Curt, who through the confusion and desperation to feel his perfect skin again, shook it firmly.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Agent Carvour."

Again very much a first draft, still fun to write (you didn't ask for a fic, sorry :/)

[jeanniebug623]

By Eywa, internet loves…it’s been too long. Work, life, health, passing of loved ones…I’m so tired these days. Please enjoy some fluff before, you know, the story hits its peek… 💙🐞

🕸️🕷️ Weaving the Web 🕷️🕸️

Chapter 24: Familiar Faces

Spider stayed quiet and rigid the entire flight to the forest. Quaritch tried to spur conversation with his son but ended up just asking a lot of yes or no questions when anything more resulted in awkward silence. Obviously, his hand hurt like hell but it didn’t stop the colonel from keeping it on his son’s shoulder for some grounding comfort. They didn’t go far outside past the walled kill zone but he hoped being surrounded by all that green would start to perk the kid up.

”There ya go, tiger.” Quaritch said as he coaxed Spider of Cupcake’s back when he shied away, hiding his face in the hood of his sweatshirt. He frowned at the glisten of sweat he could see on Spider’s face. The kid NEVER wore long sleeves or pants outside and Quaritch couldn’t blame him given the heat and humidity. He put on a comforting smile as he pulled Spider’s hood back and remarked, “You gotta be melting, kid. Come on, you’ll feel better with some fresh air and a new coat of paint.”

Spider nodded in agreement but, instead of taking off his sweatshirt, just started to wander around and look for a Spartan fruit plant. Quaritch frowned a bit as he watched his kid from behind but let it go. He wasn’t going to rush him. Glancing down at his gloved hand, hiding the wound, he tested the injury by slowly gripping a fist a few times. He stopped before Spider caught him and went about searching the other direction the boy had gone.

It didn’t take long for them to find enough fruit to dye all of Spider blue. Before he could start peeling the purple skin back, Quaritch asked, “Isn’t there a way to make it last longer?”

“Hm?” Spider mumbled as he looked up. It was the closest thing to a word the kid had said since the night before.

”Well, it seems to wash off pretty quick lately, so…” Quaritch said, as he casually glanced around the surrounding forest, “But you were blue for a pretty long time in the beginning.”

”Oh…” Spider said sheepishly and shrugged, “It’s ok…”

”Nah, let’s make ‘em last in case I get sent out on another mission.” Quaritch suggested, pocketing his harvested fruit.

”Are you?” Spider said suddenly and whipped his head up to meet his father’s eyes for the first time since staring him down with manic terror in his own eyes and a knife to the recom’s throat. This poor kid. His eyes were still red from crying and lack of sleep and now they glistened with fear. He knew it could happen. His father was still an RDA attack dog.

”Nothin’ right now…but that could change at any time, you know that.” Quaritch said softly, “But hey, maybe you can tag along again one of these days.”

Spider’s gaze dropped and he looked away. He would love to do that. To get out of Bridgehead for more than just a few hours? Get away from doctors and prying eyes and Nash MCosker? He wanted nothing more than to be just one of the squad! But he hadn’t been in contact - not even SEEN - a Na’vi since he was first captured. What would his response be given Miles’ strong hatred towards…well, everyone?

”So…” Quaritch said as he cleared his throat and closed the gap between his son and himself to rest a hand on his head, “What’ll make these stripes really stick?”

”Oh…um…” Spider looked around for a few moments then pointed to a tree with smooth bark with a reddish hue, “Sap from those trees help…”

Quaritch ruffled his head with a nod and walked over as he drew his knife from his belt while saying, “Strip down to your skivvies while I do this. And drink some water, would ya? You’re beet red under the eyes.”

Spider was uncomfortably hot. Usually was, even in the air conditioned confines of the city, but felt less obvious and more ignored when he was dressed like a sky person and hiding his dreadlocked hair. Part of him didn’t even want him to get his stripes redone…even though he felt completely unlike himself without them. Whoever he thought he was at this point…

He watched his father stab deep into the tree then pull the knife down at an angle. The sap quickly started to flow and he knew they would only have some much time to combine it with the blue fruit juice before he set. He dropped the fruit he collected and turned away as he pulled the sweatshirt off over his head. He wasn’t so much shy as he was self-conscious…

Quaritch didn’t expect so much sap to flow so quickly and he looked around for something to catch it, “Hey, Spi-…”

The colonel found himself at a loss for words when he looked back to his son to ask what would be a good makeshift container for the sap. His question died in his throat at the sight of his son’s body. He knew Spider had been losing weight and muscle mass. He knew Spider hadn’t been eating or sleeping well. He knew all of the stress and medication was messing with the sixteen-year-old’s body.

But none of that rationale could soothe the heartbreak of seeing one’s son wasting away before their very eyes…

Quaritch was appalled, at no fault of his son’s, by how easy it was to see the dips between his ribs. When the boy turned to throw the sweatshirt over the closest breach, he could count each vertebrae of his spine between well-defined shoulder blades. The sharpness of his hips offered Quaritch no comfort when it was obvious the loincloth had been tightened significantly around the waist from slipping off. He quickly averted his eyes before Spider could catch him staring.

”What?” Spider asked, wondering what his father was going to ask. He did feel much better with the fresh air cooling him down. They locked eyes and Spider froze when he saw it in his father’s eyes. Pity . Of all things; one of the things he hated the most. He didn’t even notice he’d started raising his hand to trace where his stripes usually were on his forearm, even though that had proven a risky grounding technique.

Quaritch caught it before Spider’s nails touched his skin and said firmly with his ears flicking back, “Son…it’s alright.”

The colonel closed the gap between them and dropped to one knee to be at his eye level. Quaritch didn’t know how it was going to be alright, but it would be. He didn’t have the words for it, so he opted to show it instead. He placed his hands on his son’s shoulders. Ignoring how bony they were, he pulled Spider into a gentle hug. It was loose enough that he could pull away if he needed to.

But, to his surprise and relief, Spider wrapped his shaking arms around Quaritch’s thick torso and whispered, “I trust you…”

As much as they could have stayed like that for hours, they were on a time limit and not just because the sap was setting Quartich’s knife into the tree as it dried. Spider wove a leaf into a makeshift container and mixed the paint together. Quaritch watched the meticulous way he tested the consistency to get the right mixture.

When he was done, Spider immediately started painting stripes where he could see. He looked up with a confused look when his father took the paint and picked up where he left off. While Spider had gotten better at accepting his father’s help for the hard to reach places, he still didn’t like anyone other than Kiri helping him…some habits wouldn’t die.

”I got ya, kid, I won’t screw it up too bad.” Quaritch said with a chuckle to lighten the mood. He sure as hell was hoping he wouldn’t screw it up! Normally there was a faded pattern to trace but not this time. Not even a hint of blue remained. And that was his fault. Quaritch should have offered to take him out sooner, but Spider had been so reclusive and covering himself up that he had no clue his son was completely stripe-less.

Spider didn’t argue when his father started painting. He started on his back and Spider tried not to flinch at his touch or cringe when the recom’s fingers dipped in and out between his ribs. How much did he weigh now? Would be able to go back to the gym and try to build his muscle back up? Or go running in the forest or indoor track? He was just so tired all the time…in every definition of the word…

A little over an hour and a half passed, though to Spider he would’ve guessed only fifteen minutes given how quickly he zoned out. Quaritch watched him carefully and didn’t take offense when his son didn’t reply to his questions or small talk.

”Time for the face, tiger.” Quaritch said. Spider blinked out of trance and looked down at his body. When the hell did that happen? Quaritch was happy to see a smile tug at the corners of Spider’s mouth and suggested, “Or do you want to skip it? Do it back home so not to stress out your lungs.”

”No, do it here.” Spider said quickly. Even though everything gave him anxiety those days, going back to Bridgehead so soon sent a prickle through his body. He flushed red from embarrassment and said, “Please, ma sempul…”

Quaritch stared at Spider in shock. Had his son ever called him that…? Yes, he’d been calling him Koaktan and the translation of ‘old man’ made him smirk every time. Spider started chewing on the inside of his cheek when his father didn’t answer.

”Of course, son…” Quaritch said as he reached up to take hold of the mask, “Big breath.”

Quaritch worked as quickly as he could, stopping often - maybe too often giving Spider’s eye rolls - to let the boy get a breath. He didn’t find himself being as careful as he was with the other stripes. Maybe it was the irrational fear of his son suffocating after a few extra seconds without oxygen or that he was just straight up enjoying bonding over this that made him faster or slower. He was happy to say he was done after only fifteen or so minutes.

”Well, not too shabby…if I do say so myself.” Quaritch said with an approving nod.

”Yeah?” Spider asked before giving a welcome and mischievous little smirk, “I’ll be the judge of that…”

Quaritch feigned insult and stood, “All right, smart guy, c’mon then.”

Spider exaggerated his eye roll as he followed his father over to a pool of relatively still water aside from some water dripping off the mossy roots. Quaritch had a pretty smug expression of his own, ready to see his son’s awe at his amazing painting skills. The boy froze. His playful expression slowly faded away as he stared at his own reflection.

Something struck Quaritch. Given Spider’s, up until recently, hidden issue with someone writing warnings on the mirrors, would any reflective surface trigger a negative response? Or was the recom just that bad at painting his kid’s stripes?

”Spider? Don’t keep me hanging, kid, I’m awaiting judgment here.” Quaritch said, nervousness lacing his face. At least his tone sounded strong.

Spider continued to stare at his reflection, eyes darting around his father’s work. After nearly a minute of nothing, the teen ripped off his mask as he dropped to his knees and his father went into panic mode. Quaritch dropped to his own knees and tried to grab the mask to fix it back on Spider’s face. But he hugged it tight with one arm and placed the fingertips of his free hand to his face.

As scared as he was from his boy’s sudden actions, Quaritch didn’t try to grab the mask when Spider had pulled it away. His heart was rattling his ribs loose as he forced himself to just watch his son. Quaritch watched how the kid traced the lines on his forehead, cheeks, and jaw without saying a damn word. Goddamn, he really must have fucked it up…

“Spider, we can just scrub it off and start over…I’m sure we can find something to take it off quicker than waiting.” Quaritch said, disappointed in himself for screwing up something so simple and meant to make Spider feel better after the last several weeks. Especially the incident the night before.

Finally, the burning in his lungs from holding his breath and his father’s voice snapped Spider out of his trance. He fumbled slightly but replaced the mask and took several deep breaths. His father had a sad look on his face when he looked up at him with a bright, surprised expression.

”I look like you!” Spider exclaimed.

”Huh…? What d’you mean?” Quaritch asked, his ears perking up and his brows furrowed in confusion.

”These are your pil !” Spider said, looking back to his reflection again and running his fingers over the mask to trace the stripes again.

Quaritch was still confused. He leaned forward to get a better look at the kid’s face. Na’vi stripes were like fingerprints; they’d never seen a native look exactly the same as the one next to them. The colonel knew what his blue mug looked like but he didn’t put nearly that many stripes on Spider’s face. But the longer he looked…the longer he watched Spider trace over his stripes…the more Quaritch started to see the resemblance.

”Shit, son…” was all Quaritch could say. It was NOT his intention to pull influence from his own damn reflection that stared back at him every day. Was it an exact carbon copy of the recom? No, but he was seeing the stripes on his son’s face were almost exact to the more prominent of his own facial stripes. He opened his mouth to apologize and reassure Spider they could fix it, but he didn’t get the chance.

”I want you to do it again…next time.” Spider started softly, “Every time you do it. I want it to look like this…please. Is that ok?”

Of all the shock and awe the father and son had experienced in the last twenty four hours, this was the most unexpected and heartfelt. Quaritch wasn’t expecting Spider to say he wanted to look like him…even if it was just the boy’s way to feel more Na’vi and less human. The teenager had spent his whole life trying to separate himself from his roots. The roots that grew from seeds that came from the sky.

But even if the seeds came from the sky, the roots were deep in the soil of Pandora.

”Of course I can, son.” Quaritch said soothingly, running a hand back over his son’s hair. “We’ll make sure they never fade again.”

[maleyanderecafe]

First Time (Visual Novel)

Created by: Angie

Genre: Romance

Whoa, purple haired dark skin yandere? Always fun to see. This game is made by @angieanne (with the help of the creator of Bared Teeth @baredteethvn) for the #72HourMurderboyMayhem. It's a fun little game, and I can't wait to see what other games Angie makes in the future. Also includes some sort of begging which I'm always on board for seeing. You can also find more information at @everestsplanetarium for this game.

The story starts with the MC being tied up in their room only to see their coworker's brother, Everest. Noticing that there's some blood on him, the MC recoils in discuss about what they had witnessed the night before, seeing Everest drag a dead body. Everest tries to reason with them, stating that death is natural. To this, the MC can either give in or try to run away.

If they give in, the MC will eventually let go, passing out with Everest praising them for doing so.

If they try to run away, they will pretend to go along with Everest, leading to him untying the ropes. While running, Everest cries and promises to go after the MC, never letting them go when he does.

As I've said, rather short, but it's expected for a 72 Hour Game Jam. Everest's behavior is pretty interesting since he seems to be on the softer side of a yandere, crying and producing crocodile tears (which I wish yandere guys did more often, it's a very good manipulation tactic). He's also rather very trusting of the MC when they feign giving up, leading to him to untie them and then failing to catch them. Also the fact that the MC caught them kind of shows he's not very good at hiding evidence and is a bit naïve for a yandere (not that I'm really complaining), but probably after this betrayal I can imagine he won't be nearly as trusting again. I am curious what happens after accepting being captured and passing out and kind of seeing what Everest will do next.

Overall, a cute small game. I will say that the cabinet in his room is huge- what does he put in it, maybe pictures of the MC? Astronomy things? Who knows. I am excited to see what kind of games will feature him next though.

[lydia-too-late]

Six Song Soundtrack :: Tula

RULES :: If you're tagged, make a new post with links to music and/or lyrics describing the following...

////Going with first impulse. None of these are definitive and they are all. over. the. place.////

1. AN EVENT THAT DEFINES YOUR CHARACTER'S PAST

"Bukowski" by Modest Mouse

Well all that icing and all that cake, I can't make it to your wedding, but I'm sure I'll be at your wake. You were talk, talk, talk, talkin' in circles that day, When you get to the point make sure that I'm still awake, OK?

Went to bed and didn't see Why every day turns out to be A little bit more like Bukowski. And yeah, I know he's a pretty good read. But God who'd want to be? God who'd want to be such an asshole?

2. HOW YOUR CHARACTER SEES THEMSELVES

"Weird World" by Allie X

Hail Satan At least he keeps a promise Big brother's always out of office I know nobody wants to hear this, but

I live in a weird world Yeah, it's sad but it's true Maybe you can't see it But you live in one too I used to be a dream girl But the world interfered At least now I know why Now I know why Now I know I'm weird

3. HOW OTHERS VIEW THEM

"Whore of Babylon" by Zheani

The woman was arrayed in purple and scarlet colour And decked with gold and precious stones and pearls Having a golden cup in her hand Full of abominations and filthiness of her fornication And upon her forehead was a name written Mystery, Babylon The Great The Mother Of Harlots And Abominations Of The Earth

Mystery the Mother of Harlots I am drunken with the blood of the saints

4. THEIR CLOSEST RELATIONSHIP

"Repetition" Purity Ring

I can feel your knees sinking into the bed Searching in my dark eyes to break what's been said There's a will of grace until the sadness down There's a light in my skin that's been dimmed I'mma dig you up and give you what I took Pull you up and tuck you in and make you look I'mma smooth your shoulders down and calm what's shook It was all forlorn, if only for a season

Watching me is like watching a fire take your eyes from you Hope it isn't repetition Though that's the only thing that keeps and takes you

///FUCK IT ONE MORE HOPE YOU LIKE GIRLY POP 'CAUSE I FUCKING DO///

"Heartbreak in the Making" by Dagny

You're like a stranger I've already met You're like a fantasy I've had in my head Don't know if time's gonna mend me again Hey, you feel like a heartbreak in the making

Bittersweet (bittersweet) Always had a taste for the bittersweet (Bittersweet)  Recklessly, I run towards the danger When it's close to me

It's a good thing that we can't say It's a bad thing before it's too late It's a good thing that a bad thing can feel this great

5. A MAJOR FIGHT SCENE

"Daughter" Beyonce

Your body laid out on these filthy floors Your bloodstains on my custom coutures Bathroom attendant let me right in She was a big fan I really tried to stay cool But your arrogance disturbed my solitude Now I ripped your dress and you're all black and blue Look what you made me do

[...]

I sashayed my dress Did my best impression of a damsel in distress This alcohol and smell of regret Allured my catch Outfit too small to hide my scars Feelin' bottled up like bottle service broads How long can he hold his breath before his death?

6. OPENING CREDITS / END CREDITS

"Close Your Eyes (And Count to Fuck)" by Run The Jewels

Fashion slave, you protestin' to get in a fuckin' look book Everything I scribble's like an anarchist's cookbook Look good, posin' in the centerfold of Crook Book Black on black on black with the ski mask, that is my crook look How you like my stylin' bruh? Ain't nobody smilin' bruh 'Bout to turn this mothafucka up like Riker's Island, bruh

I was tagged by @gorbalsvampire, @porcelainseashore, & @silkenred (y'all are great!)

I'm tagging... FUCK, I think I might be the last person on the site to complete this??

[septnautical]

Hmm I suggest he goes to a base where there should be a person named Robin that might be able to help him

(I know you meant Robin Ayou from Below Zero but considering how that game ends and this being 100+ years after the games- I took some creative liberty ;3c)

Marvin swam around the shallows more- eventually finding a forest of creepvines, just like home! He grins and swims around them, reveling in the familiar feeling of the leaves against his cape and skin. Though- there didn’t seem to be any stalkers nearby… just those weird white peepers he’s seen before.

But, there is some of those strange White Islands again up on the surface. Hm… since it seemed kinda safe over here- maybe he could get a better look at them.

He warps himself up to the surface and goes to peer more at the strange cold substance. He pokes it more- seeing in some spots that it’s somewhat see through.

“What are you…?” He whispers.

Then, suddenly there’s a splash right next to him and Marvin screams in surprise. But- it’s not a fish or predator.

He’s staring face to face with a… a human…?

The human seems to be a young girl, about the age of the refugee kids. She has tan skin and brownish hair and bright purple eyes. She gasps as she sees Marvin and grins wide, showing off fanged teeth.

“I thought I heard a big fish down here but that made no sense!!” The human giggles, “You’re not a fish!! You’re a hybrid too!!”

…too?!

Marvin gasps and then backs up, staring at the girl with horror. He then warps around quickly, spurring up to the surface behind her to see- yup.. a tail! A blue gray tail with many many fins- what the hell?!

He warps back and pants, and she stares at him flabbergasted.

“That is so cool!! How do you do that?! I’ve never seen anyone ever able to do that!!” She gasps and laughs in amazement.

“Who are you?!” Marvin interrupts with a growl, eyes wide as he stares at the little hybrid before him.

The tiny hybrid doesn’t seem fazed at all. “I’m Penni! But, Robin also says that I’m PH-02 but we all don’t like that name that much!”

Marvin winces- half-expecting his warper information trance thing to take over but… nothing? Weird… wouldn’t Alterra have files on other hybrids in their systems?

“R-Robin…?” Marvin asks.

“Dr. Robin! She’s like our mom! Except also not really. she says that’s apparently not how that works but she says she takes care of us like one!” Penni grins.

Marvin blinks slowly. The hell is a mom? And… “uh… us? There’s more of you?!”

Then, there’s a terrifying roar beneath him that has him yelping in fear. A dark red figure is charging right at him! And are those mandibles?!?

He warps out of the way and down by the sea bed, curling up and hiding his head beneath his arms.

There’s a loud TWACK and a cry of distress and Marvin looks back up in confusion. Whatever had charged to attack him- their mandibles were now stuck in the White Island thing! And now that they’re not moving… it’s another hybrid…?!

“Cora!!” Penni yells and pushes herself off the island, “It’s okay! It’s okay! He’s one of us!”

The other hybrid, Cora apparently, growls at Penni as she tries to pry her mandible free. Marvin can see now this hybrid is also a girl- with very dark skin and fluffy curly hair bundled up into two low pigtails. And both of the hybrids were wearing long wet suit like shirts with Alterra’s logo on them.

Once Cora’s free- she whips around to look down at Marvin, claws drawn and fangs bared. But then she pauses as she really takes a look at him- then her eyes widen. She quickly grabs Penni and pushes her behind her mandibles.

“W-What are you?!” Cora demands, “W-who are you? I… I’ve never seen a fish like you before!”

“I… I guess you wouldn’t have… I think I’m… far away from home,” Marvin admits, “But uh… I’m Marvin and… I’m not here to hurt either of you- I promise.”

Cora seems to deflate a bit- but she still glares at Marvin suspiciously. “…what are you here for then?”

“I… I’m not sure, really…” Marvin says, rubbing his arms and flicking the ends of his tails. “I wanted… answers to some stuff I guess… wanted to find stuff about these things called the… architects?”

Penni perks up from behind Cora and grins, “Oh oh!! Robin knows soooo much about those guys! She studies all sorts of things around here! I bet she could help you!”

Marvin looks back at Penni with wide eyes. He looks between her and Cora then asks sheepishly, mostly asking the more aggressive hybrid of the bunch, “is it… okay if I meet her then?”

There’s a tense beat of silence before Cora eventually sighs and flicks her tail, “…alright. But no funny business okay, Marvin?” She spits out his name like it’s poison.

He winces but then nods. “Okay…”

“She’s up on the ice- not too far.” Cora says shortly, swimming up to the surface by the White Island.

Marvin blinks and follows after, “Oh… is that what this white stuff is called?”

Penni barks out a laugh, “you don’t know what ice is?! The ocean is full of it!”

“There’s nothing like this where I come from…” Marvin admits, his cheeks flushing a bit.

The brunette hybrid laughs more, “that’s so crazy!! I can’t even imagine that!”

As they swim around… Marvin can really tell that these two are.. way younger than him and his brothers. He hadn’t seen baby hybrids since he was one. That means… they must have been made after him and his brothers were. But if that were true… why? And why weren’t there any big signs of Alterra around? Why weren’t these guys in the database?

Something strange was going on here… but he had to admit he’s relieved that Alterra doesn’t have their grubby fingers over here. If he could bring his brothers here…

Marvin is snapped out of his thoughts by a sharp flick of a red tail in his face.

“Look alive, stranger,” Cora growls. “Robin’s right up here.”

Marvin blinks up and then pushes up to the surface, trying to sink his claws into the ice and hoist himself up.

Penni bursts up after him and expertly scales up the ice and pushes herself onto the surface. She waves wildly, “ROBINNN!! We found another hybrid!!”

There’s a woman on the ice- surrounded by a group of strange looking creatures. They have huge eyes on the side of its face and actually have legs! And their heads seem to be giant beaks. The woman has tan skin, a bit darker than Zara’s and brunette hair pushed to one side- the other half shaved. A bright blue strand of hair is braided on the longer side of her hair. And she’s wearing an Alterran uniform. She startles as she hears Penni’s shout and laughs a bit turning to face them, “is that so Penni? Lemme see-“

The doctor’s eyes widen as she sees the sight of Marvin clinging to the ice. “…WH-5…?!”

Marvin gasps back and shrinks down some. “Y-you know me…?”

Robin hurries over to kneel down by the ice and smiles warmly, “Yes! Actually I used to work with the hybrid branch over in the main sector! Oh but I haven’t seen you since you were just a few weeks old! Look at how big you’ve gotten!”

Marvin can’t help but look scared. She’s… a white suit. But, she helped watch over him and his brothers… and she seems… nice. Like the doctors from Ocean’s Arms.

“If you were there then… w-why are you here now…?” Marvin asks quietly.

“Oh I got reassigned to be over here. Or more accurately- I started here but went over there to help with the hybrid project then was sent back here to start prep for our own,” Robin explains. “We aren’t nearly as successful and well… no one really likes to stay working in the cold-“

Marvin shivers as a strong cold wind blows past them. Robin sees this and smiles softly, “why don’t we go talk more at our base? It’ll be warmer there.”

“…there’s no other white suits there… right?” Marvin asks through chattering teeth.

“Nope- it’s just us. I may not have had contact for a while but… I heard some stuff from Dr. Danan. She’s a good friend of mine. I promise- you’ll be safe here. No other Alterrans will know you’re here.”

Marvin deflates in relief at this then nods. “Okay… show me the way.” Then he pauses and finally looks back to meet Robin’s eyes, “oh and uh… b-by the way… my name is Marvin.”

Robin’s eyes shine as she smiles wider, “Marvin, huh? A pleasure to meet you then, Marvin.”

[disco-girl]

im not sure if youre still doing ficlet requests, so you can ignore this if so, BUT if its still open could i request prompt 30 with gm ? the line being “Look at me.”

Thank you Jae!! This was a fun one! I hope you see this and that school is going well :D

“This is so exciting!” Gus cried as he pulled his boyfriend along past the various stalls and demonstrations. It was the first covention since the fall of the Emperor’s Coven and it was markedly different from the ones they had been to before. Rather than restricting witches to a singular coven, they were now encouraged to pick up as many different interests and types of magic as their bile sacs desired. Folks from all over the isles came to show off their talents in dazzling displays. Gus was currently balancing a stack of brochures as big as his head.

“Augustus, don’t you think this is a bit excessive? You only have so much time in the day,” Matt said, grabbing some of the papers as they began to slip out.

“Are you kidding? And miss out on—“ he glanced at one of the brochures, “—extreme sweeping? Or worm fighting?”

“I mean, yeah that sounds cool and all but you already have flyer derby and….” Matt trailed off, freezing suddenly in place.

“Matty, what are you…oh.” Gus followed his line of sight to the mender’s table which was presently staffed with a familiar purple-haired witch.

“Shit, shit, shit.” Matt whirled around, trying to hide his face.

“Maybe she didn’t see us,” Gus tried to reassure him, “oh, Titan, she’s coming over here.”

“What?!” The older witch turned just in time to see Bria approaching.

“Well, look who it is,” she announced as she got closer, “My best friend who abandoned me.”

Matt was incredulous. “Best friend?! Abandoned you?”

“Watch it, Bria,” Gus warned, “unless you want a repeat of what happened at the graveyard.”

Bria scoffed. “That was a fluke. Besides, I'm much stronger and more powerful now.”

“Yeah, well, so are we,” Matt retorted.

Bria’s gaze dropped to the boys’ intertwined hands.

“Oh my gosh. Is this—are you two like a couple now?” She burst into laughter. “Oh, this is too rich.”

Matt knew better than to take the bait, but he couldn’t help himself. “Oh yeah? What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, really. It’s perfect, actually. You’re loser for loser, what a pair!”

Matt let go of Gus’ hand and balled his fists, tensing in preparation for a fight. But his boyfriend put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “It’s not worth it,” he said.

“Actually I’m kind of surprised,” Bria continued, “I would’ve thought Gus could have pulled somebody less…pathetic.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Gus said, grabbing Matt by the arm and pulling him in the opposite direction before things could escalate.

Once they were out of earshot, Gus sighed. “Well, good to know that she hasn’t changed at all.”

Matt nodded, but his attention seemed to be somewhere else.

“Hey, you good? You know she was just trying to get under our skin, right?”

“Doesn’t mean that what she said wasn’t true,” Matt muttered, keeping his eyes glued to the ground.

Gus stopped in his tracks and turned to his boyfriend. “Hey, hey. Look at me.” He took Matt by the chin and gently tilted his head upward. “You’re not pathetic. You’re my favorite person. And you helped to lead a rebellion, for Titan’s sake! Bria is the one who’s missing out.”

Matt blinked at him for a few seconds before breaking into a proud grin. “Yeah. You’re right. Fuck her.” He took the brochures out of Gus’ hands and tucked them under one arm while grabbing his boyfriend’s other hand and squeezing it. “So, where to now?”

[itsmmatchaa]

NICO

.*𓆩♡𓆪⸸･ﾟ “the red flags are big but so is my dick” :)

𓆩♡𓆪.SEX: god male

𓆩♡𓆪.SEXUAL ORIENTATION: yes

𓆩♡𓆪.SPECIES: demon? incubus prince? sex machine? the name you'll be screaming tonight? a nuisance for sure. Half demon prince, half human

𓆩♡𓆪.NAME: Niccolo Cifarelli

𓆩♡𓆪.NICKNAMES: nico, nilo, "the angel of art department", nicky, asmoday, the son of asmodeus, your highness

𓆩♡𓆪.OCCUPATIONS: prince of second circle of hell (lust), art student and a barista

𓆩♡𓆪.AGE: 246-ish

𓆩♡𓆪.BIRTHDAY: 6/9 nice (6th september)

𓆩♡𓆪.HOMETOWN: hell/woods in Italy

𓆩♡𓆪.HEIGHT: 195 cm

𓆩♡𓆪.APPEARENCE:

𓆩♡𓆪.EYECOLOR: Nico's eye color changes accordingly to his emotions, thats why he hides his eyes with glasses or his hair. Usually they're brown with golden hues, but can have hints of purple when he use his demonic powers, when he's angry or feeding himself with sexual energy, blood or flesh.

𓆩♡𓆪.HAIR: thick dark hair that cannot decide if it's black or dark brown, wavy and fluffy.

𓆩♡𓆪.BODY INFO: Nico's body is ripped. he use a lot of his time working out and carrying weight, art equipment and stones or clays since he likes sculpting. all that activities helped to turn him into a very strong guy. He also enjoys deadlifting and helping his dad with mechanics when he's fixing up cars.

𓆩♡𓆪.SKINCOLOR: Nico has a tanned skin thanks to the amount of time he gets under the sun helping his mother with orange harvest and sketching people.

𓆩♡𓆪.ABOUT NICO: son of asmodeus himself and a human woman. his mother died in Triora centuries ago being judged as a witch, when in fact she was just a very beautiful young and intelligent woman without a husband and refunsing to marry a old man.

when nico's mother arrived in hell, the demon asmodeus was amazed by her beauty and kindness, he decided to woo her and take her as his wife. she was strangely kind even though she was in hell. Asmodeus knew that someone had probably misjudged her and sent her to hell, which at this point was a daily basis (seriously heaven/hell bureaucracy is a mess), but asmodeus didn't want to lose her and decided to hide her existence. asmodeus waited years for her to feel comfortable enough to get into a relationship and copulate with him and together they had only one child: niccolo.

Niccolo was born human and very weak, unfortunally the infernal air was not good for his weak human lungs, he was always coughing a lot so asmodeus took his wife and children to a wood cabin to live in the human world. years passed and despite the efforts of his mother and father, unfortunately niccolo died at the age of 13, due to the plague and his fragile health, on the island of Poveglia, along with other infected people. Asmodeus knew that he could not interfere with his son's death, otherwise the boy could become a lost soul without memories of his life, however the demon lord had a little bit of hope that maybe his son could turn into a demon when he died.

after niccolo's death, a search was made after all the dead souls hoping to find asmodeus's son but without success. nico disappeared for about 200 years until a young boy suddenly appeared in hell, looking for his parents, saying that heaven was too boring.

"I really tried be a good boy, but I couldn't do anything and they were already pointing their swords at me.”

when asmodeus learned that the heavens had kept his son for all this time, he was pissed, but at his son's request nothing was done and he wouldn't declare war to heaven... this time.

"it took me a long time to see you father, and I don't want to look at any angels so soon."

Niccolo was now "dead", and as asmodeus predicted, he became a demon and a refused soul (when you ascend to heaven but get kicked out). asmodeus was proud while nico's mother was slapping his shoulders while crying after so much time without seeing her only son.

After spending time with his family, niccolo had been given the title of asmoday, reborning as a hell's prince, and no one demon ever speak his name again. * (please check trivia for more information)

𓆩♡𓆪.PERSONALITY: even if he's flirtatious, full of shit and sometimes mysterious, he's kind and caring, he's a goofball honestly. his demonic personality does get the best of him sometimes, he can't fight the urge of making jokes and stealing people's heart with his looks (and he will seduce you in purpose, yes) but at the same time he's also clumsy and cute.

hes the type of guy that makes every woman's heart beat fast not matter the age, the type all mother want to their daughters. the way he talks to mrs. Amelia, an old lady and his neighbor, like she's young again, it's so cute, and it's so beautiful to see her smiling and blushing because of the compliments that Niccolo has said. he knows that a little compliment makes the day of the old lady.

"Oh Mrs. Amelia, you're shining today! May I have the pleasure of your company to the train station my lady?"

Nico also enjoys his time alone, listening to music or running early in the morning, doing calisthenics or painting. But there's nothing he enjoys more than vacation, when he goes back to Italy and can see his parents in the human form, and pretend they are normal humans for a bit, helping his mother taking care of her farm, and helping his dad when he's messing up with old cars. that one hobbie made Nico a big fan of races, it's not rare seeing him in street racings with his chevelle SS 1970 and believe me, he's fast as fuck when wants to win.

Nico is like a puppy dog when in love, he'll cherish and love you, you're going to be his sun, his moon and all his starts, he'll draw you, sculpt you and kill for you if necessary. he´s the type that would wear a "my girl is hotter than you" shirt and he would be proud about it, even if he's supposed to be bad, if you ask, he'll be the most loyal puppy in the world. but don't be surprised if one day you wake up with a very hungry half demon boyfriend next to you needing sexual energy. after all he's kind of the heir of luxury and when incubus fall in love they can only feed from his beloved and oh boy he's insatiable.

𓆩♡𓆪.LIKES: playing bass, cars, sculping, oranges and tangerines, messing with cars, iced coffee with 2 spoon's of sugar and milk, cats, the smell of rain

𓆩♡𓆪.DISLIKES: flu, hospitals, extreme unhygienic people and places, blank pages, when he miss a race, pure milk (he only drinks milk with chocolate powder or sugar). Cooking (he can't cook for his life), churches

𓆩♡𓆪.TRIVIA:

names are sacred to demons, so when a demon makes himself known he is given a false name or title. Some demons are so ancient that we only know their titles. If you speak the real name of a demon, you can end up dying or you will feel enormous pain. The only ones who can speak a demon's name are those close to them or to whom the demon has made a confession (the act of telling the demons name).

can't cook for shit, but he's very good at making drinks. he work as an barista with Yao Mei.

each demon has a way of protecting its name, by telling it to everyone and putting a seal on themselves, or being so powerful that even if everyone knows it won't change anything. Or killing everyone who knows their name.