#I've been playing with a new Inky

[citrusro]

~Commander and the Inquisitor~

[asimplearchivist]

hrrhhhrrmrm...velmgarb...*indistinguishable gnawing noises*

[nadas-dirthalen]

I've been thinking about how the bg3 wiki lists this as Gortash's singular spell as a boss.

Dazzling Ray, y'all. A bright beam of radiant light. Supremely sun-coded.

And I'm thinking about how even though I've seen that mid-transformation, Gortash's new Avatar of Bane has green eyes with black sclera (very Bane-coded!), his full transformation has these, sourced from this Twitter post.

Not to mention how there is LESS Bane iconography on his Avatar Of Bane form than his jacket, previously. That it is more gold than black, and that its curves (while reminiscent of Steel Watchers) are all knight- or paladin-coded, not tyrant-coded.

Because is that not the way of him? Always designing things to look heroic. Always playing at being a just ruler, but never able to enact that in truth.

But still shining radiant light at people. Still. Still.

And I am thinking how Raphael, like Viconia - personally motivated against Gortash, like Viconia was to Shadowheart - also has Punish Divinity as a passive ability.

And I am thinking about a boy who was sun-coded from the moment he was named. An artificer, yes - whose magical attacks are coded with the same radiance as his earliest youth. Whose eyes burn gold like the sun, after changing to green with black sclera. The gold overtakes them. But why not a dark glow? Why not something dark and inky like the half-illithid transformation?

And why, pray tell... why is the crest over his heart white, and inscribed not with Bane, but with what looks like radiant lines?

My conclusion: Enver Gortash might be an artificer, but he's living out the arc of an Oathbeaker paladin to an evil god. Where, all along, even his Avatar of Bane suggests that there is something light at his core, contrasting the dark swallowing the rest of him.

[luveline]

hey jade! i loved your vampire!sirius fic it was so cute!! i know it’s not halloween anymore but could you write another one of vampire!sirius with that unphased reader please?

hi lovie!! for u

Sirius pushes you down by the throat, his eyes narrowed and his weight heavy on your stomach. You squirm beneath him, trying to push him off. 

"Ow…" You cover his hand. "Not so rough." 

"Sorry," he says, hand moving to your shoulder. His apology is genuine, soft as silk, as are his hands where they wander. "I just missed you." He tucks his arm behind your neck and leans in for a hug. 

You giggle. "Yeah? Me or my circulatory system?" 

"Don't say stuff like that!" He kisses you atop your pulse, the place he so often nibbles. "I missed you." 

You grab handfuls of inky hair and hug him back. You can't say you weren't expecting to be taken to bed the moment you got back, but you absolutely thought it would be for a feeding or some weird bloody fun. This is unexpected, but still nice. "You smell nice," you mumble, closing your eyes. 

He kisses your neck. His lips travel upward, nothing seductive or smooth about it —this is all clumsy, chaste sweetness, and it's knocking you off kilter. "I don't think you should go away again." 

"It was four days." 

"Have we been apart four days? Since we met?" 

No. You and Sirius have become that irritating weirdo couple that met and immediately fell in love, so to speak. You live in the other's lap, and you have no regrets thus far. It's odd how well you get along, but he's an odd creature, and you're worse if he's to be believed. My little freak never sounded so saccharine. 

Even when he pulls up to tower over you and that strange alarm bell in your head begins to ring, your adrenaline spikes, the glint of his sharp fangs and the predatory thinning of his irises activates an innate fight of flight, but in your head? You have no urge to move. It doesn't make any sense. "No," you answer, having almost forgotten. "We haven't." 

His cheek is scratchy in your hand. "And look at the consequences. I've been forced to drink from other people and you've taken up a barrage of exciting new boyfriends–" 

"Well, I haven't," you say, grinning at him. "You're the only boyfriend for me. I tried, but the supernatural find me so very off-putting. I can't imagine why." 

"Oh, you tried?" he asks, dropping his face to dig his nose under your jaw. He kisses you, but you know he's doing that as an afterthought, the nose jabbing his main prerogative. 

"Not really." You cup the back of his head. "Are you hungry?" 

"Would you stop it? I'm trying to express my love for you and you're desperate to play victim." 

"I'm just wondering." 

His fang scratches your skin, a graze. The blood it produces wouldn't so much as wet his fingernail, but he licks the wound to seal it and kisses straight up your cheek to the corner of your eye. "Please," he says, relaxing into your hold, "don't go on holiday again. At least for the next century." 

"So for the rest of my life?"

Sirius scoffs. "If you think I'd let you die an old crone, you're stupid. You're stuck with me forever." He doesn't sound quite as sweet when he says it like that, a solidness to his declaration that should give you goosebumps. "You belong with me." 

It should freak you out. What a strange thing to say. What a weird thing to picture. 

"You really don't want me around for my endless buffet?" you ask. 

"Don't be stupid. If blood were your most valuable trait I would've drained you the night we met. It's a little bonus for now, and in a few years when you're ready you'll drink some of my blood and be my wife for the rest of time." 

You lean back to look at him. "What if I'm ready now?" 

He moves to mouth kisses into your soft jaw. "Darling, why rush? You can only get more perfect." He laughs into his kisses, speaks smushed and warm into your skin, "What if I'm ready now?" he repeats, kiss-kiss-kissing. "You aren't scared of anything, are you, my love?" 

"I'm certainly not scared of you." 

"You might be scared of never eating crisps again though, hmm?" 

You think about it. "Alright. In a few years." 

"That's my girl." 

[divine-misfortune]

Mushy May, day 1. Cuteness aggression

Rating: Everyone

Words: 1,133

Summary: Dew gets fit for his new uniform with the other water ghouls, and Mist couldn't be more proud of him.

Water ghoul bonding time.

Many thanks to @forlorn-crows for organizing mushy may :^)

“You need to stop wriggling around or you’re going to keep getting pricked,” River warned through clenched teeth, the thin silver pins held between them bobbing as he spoke. 

Dew frowned at his reflection in the mirror and then found River's dark gaze staring back at him. His eyes narrowed when Dew dared to heave his shoulders in a sigh, giving the charcoal fabric a bit of a tug to pull it taut around his skinny frame. He wanted to throw his head back and groan, air his frustrations, but knew better than to. Especially when River was equipped with multiple sharp objects, he was dangerous enough unarmed. That didn't stop his tail from lashing to and fro, Dew could hold his tongue but not his tail it seemed. 

“I've been standing here for ages, how are you not done?” 

“Because I take pride in my work, thank you very much” River bit as Dew's tail knocked against his leg. 

Behind him, he watched Lake move to River's side. Oddly gentle as he tucked a strand of inky hair behind River's ear before leaning in to whisper something Dew couldn't quite catch, punctuating whatever comment he'd made with a kiss pressed to his temple. It seemed to force the soured, irritated expression from River's face, and Lake shot him a half grin in the mirror. 

“I get it, oh I hate having to play dress form for him too, but we'd have been done ages ago if you could just hold still a little bit. This would go sooo much faster.” 

“How's the man supposed to work when you keep squirming like a tadpole?” Mist tutted at him from her place on the couch, and Dew turned to look at her.

If looks could kill.

“You're supposed to be on my side,” his voice pitched into a whine and Mist snickered into the back of her hand. “Maybe if the man hurried up I wouldn't be so restless!” He huffed, shoulders dropping once again. 

A sudden sharp prick in his hip caused Dew to yelp and made his posture go rigid. He jerked away from River only to be pulled back so he could properly pin the fabric in place. He tried to hide it by ducking his face down but Dew could see that smirk. A glimpse of shiny white fangs. He hissed between his teeth, silent curses thrown at the two older water ghouls playing innocent as they continued to work.

“Oh that was on purpose you dick!” 

“The last five have been on purpose, dear” River said, sort of sweetly, sort of venomous. It was always hard to tell when it came to him. 

Mist turned her face away. Forced to in order to hide a proper laugh from her protege and his big sad wet eyes, lest his pout cement itself to his face - permanently sporting the look of a kicked puppy. He had an almost adorable quality to him like this, despite the fact Dew was bigger in stature than her, he looked small. The uniform, still not exactly sized to fit yet, didn't help. Too much fabric on his scrawny frame. Surrounded by two taller, bigger water ghouls, Dew looked dainty in comparison. No more than a guppy.

She remembered the day she was fit for her uniform. To say she wasn't just as restless would be a lie, but she didn't dare to fidget when Delta was the one holding sharp objects. At least he had been more time efficient than River. Mist couldn't exactly blame Dew for moving so much, it was an exciting and daunting moment for him. It had been for all of them. 

Traditionally, she would have been the one to fit him for his uniform. Mentors almost always were the ones to do it, a sibling had once compared it to being a graduation of sorts. Mist would have liked to, and it was a bit of a jab at her pride that she couldn't. Her own fault, really. She just never got the hang of the whole sewing thing. 

Water had popped in to be part of the moment briefly towards the start, but couldn't stay. He'd tussled Dew's hair as he gave him a once over before departing. Dew still hadn't smoothed any of that pretty silver hair back into place, River hadn't let him lift his arm long enough to do so. Delta was the only water ghoul, former water ghoul, who hadn't made an appearance which stung ever so slightly. More likely than not, Delta was lending himself to Omega. Assisting in Aether's tailoring. At least she hoped that's where he was. He'd been drifting aimlessly a lot more these last few weeks. 

Her smile faltered at the thought, and Dew tipped his head to question the sudden change in her expression. Mist shook her head. Silently dismissing whatever concern she'd evoked as she pushed herself to her feet, finally truly taking in the sight of him. 

Her face softened, he had an awful habit of making something inside of her melt without trying, and this moment was no different. She stepped close and took his face in both hands, turning him to look at her. Dew's skin was just as cool to the touch as hers, but he felt warmer the longer she held him. 

“Oh droplet, look at you,” Mist sighed fondly and his eyes flicked away. He was awful at holding eye contact when he got flustered. “All grown up and about to be on your own.” 

“Mist-” Dew mumbled, color warming his cheeks as River and Lake began to snicker. 

“What? Can't I be proud of my little shark pup?” She squished his face between both hands, knocking their horns together. “Finally getting to see you through your rite of passage.”

“You're being sappy, it's gross.” 

“I think I've earned being sappy!” Mist forcefully shook his head side to side with a huff, “look so handsome in your uniform I could just eat you up.”

“Mist!” He whined, pawing weakly at her. Pink spreading to the tips of his ears. “Stoooop-” 

River and Lake's laughter was harder to ignore, adding to his ever growing embarrassment. Mist shot them both a glare before turning her attention back to him. Whiplash, sharp stare becoming gentle. Adoration. He clearly wanted to bury his face in his hands and let the floor open up to swallow him whole. She chuckled and pecked a little kiss to the tip of his nose, pinching one of his reddened cheeks before finally relenting. 

“Fine, fine, because you hate letting me have my fun.” Mist waved him off and traded places with the other two ghouls, letting them work to get Dew safely out of the pin-filled cloth with minimal injury. 

[denv2]

It's been a long time,, I've been reading Inky Mystery for a while, but lately I tend to read it all at once when I have a few stories piled up. But recently I saw 349 and 350 and thought I should draw Felix and Oswald, so I drew them right away.

It's so good... So much fun... I love it!

No seriously zany felix < this is so good the more I think about it. He's out of the zany, but he's still got it in him? Oh my God, it feels so good... Do you know what I mean? Felix admitting that to me is really... Actually, I'm not exactly sure about zany because I just understand the concept as a feeling... but it just feels so good. I wonder about Felix's zany days... Even more so because of the current situation where Felix denies those days.

I also loved the jump to Oswald's side in episode 350, and the scene where Felix came to visit him in a bad mood really made me smile. I feel sorry for Felix, but it was good.

I also loved that Oswald brought up the past, the kids and Ortensia... Oh God, I need to watch episode 350 again.

Ha... I love how Felix and Oswald come to an understanding about fatherhood... or should I say, I love how they talk about it...

But... I couldn't hold back a sigh at the mention of Mickey. Oh my God, I'm so dreading the day when the series will reveal the news about Mickey's ink illness, but I'm looking forward to it...

Of course, I also read episode 351 posted today. The plot is getting more and more interesting...

This has nothing to do with the novel: I recently went to Tokyo DisneySea and Disneyland! The parades were so fun, impressive, moving, and fantastic... I especially loved the DisneySea parade, and I'm so glad I bought official Oswald merchandise! I got a doll and a key ring! I also saw two Disneyland stage shows, both of which I loved, and I got to meet Pluto and Donald Duck and take pictures with them, which made me so happy... I want to go to Hong Kong Disneyland and meet Oswald, so my next goal will be Hong Kong Disneyland.

I'm still in love with Inky Mystery and the cartoon characters. Epic Mickey rebrushed is coming out soon, I'm definitely going to play it.

[total-drama-brainrot]

Total Drama Psycho Noah AU, during the TDWT London Episode... What if Noah doesn't call the hidden Alejandro an eel, instead Alejandro and the other hidden Contestants saw Noah briefly showed his true insane colors to defeat the 'Ripper', with a big psychotic grin?... How would Alejandro feel about trying to bring up Noah's insane side, but Noah keeps denying it (and so does Owen, because Noah asked him to)? 😏

Psycho!Noah, under the assumption that he's alone with only Owen and the camera as his witnesses, going Full On Mania Mode on the Ripper? That's a fun thought.

I think, given the fact that he's on a Reality TV Show in the first place, this Noah would be upfront to the audience that he's... a little unhinged. Maybe he cracks a few jokes in the confessional (either during Island or World Tour) about his eccentricities, or maybe he really plays up the 'crazy' to paint himself as a wolf in sheep's clothing for the audience?

The second option there would probably work more in his favour, since him Just Being There would be a source of dramatic irony for the audience- something to keep people watching in anticipation, waiting for Noah's mask of mundanity to slip. He'd be 'good for ratings'.

I've decided that's the characterisation I'll go with. Psycho!Noah hides his true self from the contestants but, knowing that he'll be recorded 24/7, doesn't bother disguising himself for the audience- his nature will inevitably be exposed to them anyway, so why not cut out the middle man? At least this way, he gets the added pleasure of toying with the viewer's expectations.

-

So, given the fact that the only people he thinks are seeing him are people already in the know, what's stopping Noah from letting loose a little?

Nothing. Nothing's stopping him.

He and Owen step onto the double decker bus, the larger teen tiptoeing almost timidly onto the vehicle in his trepidation, whilst Noah follows casually behind him. He's a little disappointed, truly; horror themed challenges would be so much more interesting if they were, y'know, scary.

Luckily for him, things soon get interesting.

The shadowed figure of the Ripper drops from the ceiling with a thud behind Noah, assumedly crouched down on all fours like some sort of beast though it's hard to tell behind the inky, billowing cloak they're wearing. The motion would've been too fast for someone less capable to properly react to. Thankfully, Noah is very capable.

He pivots in place, catching the surprisingly fast arms of the Ripper before their taller frame can grapple him in his own deceptively strong grip, then forcibly bends the figure's arms until a sickening crack resounds through the bus's interior. The Ripper cries out a raspy animalistic shriek of pain, their forearms hanging uselessly limp out in front of them at awkward angles, and the clattering of something hitting the floor draws Noah's attention downwards. A knife, the Ripper's weapon of choice, gleams threateningly on the ground under the weak moonlight, having slipped from their incapacitated hand.

Well. That's certainly interesting.

Easing up his iron grip on the figure's disfigured arms, the cynic gingerly bends down to swipe the knife from the floor, then straightens back up triumphantly as he brandishes his new found weapon.

"Noah?" Owen's meek voice echoes from behind him. The bookworm tilts his head towards the other, who's fear-blown gaze is fixated on the sharp object in his unstable friend's unpredictable clutches.

The Ripper, momentarily subdued, continues to whine and groan in pain beside him.

"What's up, bud?" He responds, voice conversationally light and airy- a stark contrast to the Ripper's agonised gargles.

"Is- is that a knife?" The larger asks in a wavering tone. Noah isn't sure if it's the fear of himself with a sharp object, or the frankly pathetic display from the figure beside him, that's causing his best friend's hesitance. But he knows Owen- the big lug is a hardy sort, he won't stay scared for long.

"Hmm," Noah hums playfully, toying with the weapon in his grip. Feeble beams of moonlight shine and shimmer from it's blade, illuminating their surroundings in spectres of milk light, "Yeah, I think it is. Good eye, big guy."

A moment of tense silence passes between the two (somewhat ruined by the Ripper's incessant snivelling), before Owen's face splits into a shaky smile.

"Do you want to, uh, maybe, put the knife down?" He suggests.

Noah shifts his focus back onto the tool in his grip, theatrically ruminating over his friend's suggestion as he raises his free hand to his chin in a pondering motion, whilst his piercing gaze subtly flickers around the bus to locate the nearest hidden camera. He spins the knife in his hand thoughtlessly as he searches, deftly twirling and weaving the blade between clever fingers, sending spirals of light dancing through the darkness of their enclosure.

Once he's spotted the tell-tale red blinking light of a recording camera, he careens his whole body to face it. His features soften into a serene smile, highlighted by trickles of pale moonlight, as he addresses the camera.

"No. Not really. It's quite pretty. Don't you think?"

Noah waits a heartbeat, keenly listening for a response that'll never come from the recording device, before his smile splits into something wider. Something that splinters around the edges of his face and crumbles through his mask of tranquillity, revealing glimpses of wild delirium through its cracks. Similarly, his amusement-crinkled eyes widen with mania, irises contracting into pinpricks of molasses against the white of his sclera.

"And wouldn't it look a lot prettier... in a different colour?" The pessimist halts the spinning of the knife with a flick of his wrist, letting the question simmer in the stale air of the bus.

The Ripper, having finally regained their bearings, stumbles to flee from the bus.

Well. That's not very interesting, is it?

In the blink of an eye, Noah is suddenly nose-to-mask with them, holding the blade millimetres from the figure's neck almost tauntingly as he traps them against the fogged over glass of the bus driver's window, "Red would look really pretty."

"Noah," Owen whines petulantly, "we're supposed to capture the Ripper, not kill him!" As if to punctuate his point, the blonde tugs at the edges of the burlap sack he's carrying, shooting an imploring look towards his little buddy.

"Oh, I forgot. Silly me!" Noah exclaims jovially, smacking at his sizable forehead with his free hand. The Ripper beneath him whimpers at the motion.

-

In the First Class cabin, the majority of the Total Drama contestants stand gobsmacked at the display they just witnessed. Varying expressions of disturbance and fright are dotted across the crowd, and the more sensitive of the group have turned varying shades of nauseated green or horrified white.

"What the fuck?"

[konnie-shitpost]

i try not to be too pessimistic about the news about the lack of choices that play any role in datv because otherwise i'm excited about everything i've heard about the game so far and i'm still looking forward to playing it + getting to know all the new companions... but damn. heartbreaking!

i've been replaying the trilogy for a few months now, so that i properly remember everything that happens, and now it feels a little silly. i mean, it's not a waste - i've enjoyed replaying it anyway, but it only makes it more obvious to me how important for my experience all the little mentions of my past choices are - all the codex entries, all the 'throw-away' lines - all of them always make me excited and feel like this world IS real and has been shaped by me. to lose all this in datv feels like losing a big part of what made dragon age series special to me.

and again, i'm not trying to be pessimistic! this game has already done a lot more than i expected it to do, everything seems interesting and fun so far, and i know that after 10 years and 3 huge games it's difficult to even simply mention all the past choices, especially now that the game takes place in a whole different part of Thedas. but some decisions just seem... strange. how Kieran doesn't matter if Morrigan appears in the game? how the well of sorrows doesn't matter if BOTH Morrigan and Inky appear in the game?? how there's NOTHING about Hawke if Varric is right there??? and absolutely nothing about the HoF when the Gray Wardens seem to be a huge part of the plot? Honestly, it even makes me kinda intrigued about how they're gonna walk around all these topics, because, well, while HoF can be more or less generalized (oh yeah, there's been this one guy. moving on,), The Kid question for Morrigan and Is Hawke Alive question for Varric seem a lot harder to ignore, especially if both of these characters are going to play a big role in the story. Oof!

[itsbubbleteataro]

Like we're gonna die young

Warnings; drink and alcohol abuse (getting clean) angel dust being angel dust, the Vs

Parings; Alastor x fem reader

Part one of ?

(I blasted so much early 2000s/2010s pop with a sprinkling of punk, playlist here

You didn't think you were a big deal. You were just some pop star from the early 2000s who ended up in hell. You just liked to keep the party going. When you showed up in hell you found yourself with animalistic features.

Your already wild multi-colored hair be wilder and longer. Your legs now looked something akin to a wolf's. You have two large wold ears. Shrugging you did the only thing you knew how, party. You walked into the nearest club, got too drunk and broke out into a Kesha song. Next thing you know, your a social media hit.

It's been a few years since you came to hell and became an overnight hit. You went to the same bar, acting as some kind of unpaid performer if you were on enough drugs or drunk enough.

You were in a booth, sipping on something someone handed you a while ago, scratching your arm. You were withdrawing, trying to go clean on your own. You knew that you couldn't do alcohol on your own, you would need to get medical help for that one, but drugs? You figured you could do it.

You were three days, you found that scratching your arm seemed to work for now, but it wouldn't quench the hunger that was there. It's been two days and you already wanted to relapse.

You were irritated, only made worse by a new presence at the club, the Vs. All three of them, sitting in the vip section. You gulped as you watched them all take a seat, and the owner of the club, Rina walked over.

Rina had animalistic traits just like you did, only instead of wolf like, she's more fox like. Rina has skin that's more akin to fur, cunning jade colored eyes and long well kept black hair. Rina looked at you with sympathy. She's the only one who knew you were at least trying to get clean.

"(Y/n) I hate to ask, but do you think you could preform tonight? I know you don't work here but the Vs are hear and I'm panicking!"

You nodded agreeing and standing up. You quickly swallowed the rest of your drink while Rina looked at you thankful. The two of you were close, friends. Yet you refused to work under her. You were thinking leaving your empty glass on the bar as you leaned against it.

You snapped your clawed fingers as you knew what song you wanted to do, your fluffy tail waving back and forth to the sound of the music that was already playing.

Before you could even start a second familiar face walked up to you. You recognized her. Cassidy had short black hair cut in a bob. Her eyes inky pools of black with white. She dressed as if she fit into the club crowd, but you knew her better and knew she would much rather wear something else. She snaked an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close,

"(Y/n) I need a favor~ I promise I'll get you whatever ya want if you do it"

Cassidy asked quite straight forward. You nodded your head so she continued,

"Get Vox to talk about himself for me, I've got a hunch he's been up to something"

"Cassie, you know he already does that-"

"Yeah yeah I know but I hear he's been doing a little cheating~"

You raised an eyebrow. Now this was interesting. You always thought Vox and Valentino were an item, apparently they weren't exclusive if they were. You had no idea Vox had even gotten himself into a relationship, let alone knew anyone who would openly date him. You felt bad for whoever he was with, that is if what Cassidy was saying was true.

"Ya got proof?"

You know Cassidy usually doesn't talk to you about things like this unless she has proof. Both you and Rina gasped as the picture Cassie held up with a smirk.

Sure enough it was Vox with a man, making out in a back alley. You smirked, having just the song to push his buttons the way Cassie wanted you too.

As the three of you conversed on a little plan, Angel Dust, Husk, Cheri bomb, Nifty and Sir Pentious walked in the club. Charlie and Vaggie were in Heaven for a meeting about the extermination and Alastor was out for an overlord meeting. Charlie had asked Cheri bomb to take them all out on an outing while the three were away and they ended up at the very same club you were.

The bunch took their seats, Angel Dust making sure to keep an eye on Nifty and making sure she wasn't drinking too much, ending up placing her in Husk's care as she played with his feline like ears.

The music in the club was quickly replaced by yours. (Link here to song) people started cheering as they realized they you were finally singing for the night.

Your foot thumped against the ground as the song started, tail wagging with excitement. As you opened your mouth to sing you cringed, you sounded tipsy. Shaking the thought from your head, the show went on.

Angel Dust and Cherri Bomb realized right away who you were from the start of your performance.

"Holy shite it's (y/n) she's here tonight? Fuck yeah!"

Cheered Cherri Bomb as the group now watched you. While everyone but Nifty, she was busy playing with Husk's wings. Husk raised an eyebrow as Angel Dust pulled out his phone to record the performance.

Meanwhile Rina had taken the picture from Cassie and use her abilities to shift her appearance. Her usual fox like features turned to a more hellborn like one, choosing to look like an imp from lust as that would fit in more. She took the picture from Cassie and set off behind you.

You sang and made your way over to the Vs. you smirked, wanting to get under their skin, but not enough to the point where they would kill you.

As you placed your finger under what you would consider to be Vox's chin, the firm flat metallic edge of his flat screen tv face, Rina walked up, setting down the picture Cassie took.

You take your leave, hips swaying as Angel Dust watches closely, eyebrow lifted. Rina leans over the table and slides the picture to Vox and also takes her leave.

Angel dust focuses his camera on Vox, whose screen glitches for a moment as Val raises an eyebrow before moving it to Rina who shape shifts back into her regular form, before locating your form once more.

You're dancing on the bar, shaking your hips, hands in your hair, enjoying the rush of the show. Angel stops his recording and turns to the group, motioning for them to head back.

The group makes its way to the hotel where Angel makes the mistake of leaving his phone open, with the video up and playing on the main table, having been called over by Charlie for something.

Alastor comes waltzing in after his Overlord meeting, looking over at the miniature picture box he so detested. He raised his staff, about to break it, when he watched your interaction with Vox. The way you looked at him with a slight smirk on your features followed by the picture being slid over almost made him feel something.

Was it admiration? Was it respect? He didn't really care to find out quite yet, all he knew is that he found you quite interesting. He paused the video as it zoomed in on you, smile wide on your face, clearly drunk, but enjoying yourself.

Yes he didn't quite enjoy seeing how drunk you were, but it still didn't change the fact that you had managed to get under Vox's skin with nothing more than what seemed just like a photograph.

He may not have knew how he was feeling but he did know

He just positively had to get his claws on that photograph

---------------------------------------

@slytherin4ever @iheartpieck @luzzbuzz



[lanafofana]

Snippet Sunday Funday

✨💖Thankies for the tag @roguishcat 💖✨

If you're here for BG3 content I'm afraid I've dipped my toes into Dragon Age Inquisition. Read on for some Solavellan Hell Mongering.

No warnings (other than DAI spoilers)

Context is that Inky has time travelled, dated the eggman and now Solas has dragged her ass to Crustywood.

Enjoy 😘

“Then what I must tell you…the truth–”

There. She can see it now, the tell she missed in her first life. The flicker in his gaze. The sudden realization and despair in the same breath. The weighty mantle of grim acceptance settling around him like a funeral shroud. She can see it all like a beacon of pain shining out from his eyes, the dip at the corner of his mouth, the furrow of his brow.

The gentle press of her fingers against his lips has startled him into temporary muteness. Stemmed the tide of this ill-fated evening but she knows it won't hold for long.

“The truth is,” she says quietly, staring at where her fingertips brush against the soft dry skin of his mouth to avoid his piercing gaze. “I know a liar when I see one.”

Solas’ lips part when he sucks in a breath.

“Even one who lies only by omission.”

The breath he releases is slow, controlled and steady, and hot against her skin. She sees him swallow hard, his lashes fluttering as his lids slide shut.

What could he possibly be thinking, she wonders with a thrill of fear.

Reconsidering what Leliana’s network of spies might have discovered and insinuated? Perhaps how to control any potential fallout with misdirection and a clever lie so mired in truth it tastes just the same when she swallows it.

Or, she thinks darkly, maybe he is judging the weight of the Inquisition's value against its potential liability. Dreading what she could possibly be leading up to.

She wishes she knew. Her stomach swoops like she's in freefall.

Wrapped in the safety of mortal flesh and bone, her heartbeat hammers to break free and scream.

“A mage with a mysterious past,” she begins.

Miraculously, her voice is steady, betraying none of the tremulous anxiety ricocheting around her gut, striking against her ribs like shrapnel.

“One with rare, intimate knowledge of the Fade; experience with warfare enough to find kinship with a battlehardend warrior.”

Still and stern he reminds her chillingly of the stone statues he once left in his wake. Is he even breathing? Is she?

“Canny enough to play mental strategy against the best Hissrad the Qunari could offer. And win.”

When she chances a glance at his face his eyes are still closed, his usually placid expression is tense. A wolf backed into a corner.

“An apostate that appeared at the right time, in the right place.”

Moving her hand from its delicate perch on his lips, Ellana cups his clenched jaw, tracing the laugh line at the corner of his mouth with her thumb. His eyes crack open slowly, pools of liquid silver in the moonlight. Mercurial and soaked in secrets. The Dread Wolf carries his own Wells of Sorrow on his face, as obvious as any vallaslin, borne in tandem with his terrible yoke of duty. The weight of them could crush her.

“Did you think I walked into your love blind, Vhenan?”

Solas’ eyes trace the planes of her face like it’s a map he’s never seen before. As quickly as he turns new information around in his mind he’s also memorizing every line and freckle, committing each fresh detail of her that's been revealed in this new light to his eternal memory.

“I have never pressed you to reveal your secrets or why you keep them. I do not intend to do so now.”

At this he can hold his silence no longer. “Vhenan–”

With terrible certainty she knows this is where he is trying to draw his line in the sand. The clean break to spare them both a worse fallout in the future. A desperate, foolish, stupid attempt to protect her that could only have been born from his deep tragic love for her. Idiot.

She can see his regret as clearly as she can hear it. It makes her want to tear it from his face with her nails and teeth. To rip it from him like a mask. Like she did in Tevinter, a lifetime ago.

A lifetime that ended in ashes.

When she’d thought she’d finally gained the upper hand for once and slid her fingers beneath carved porcelain. So naively certain of her victory. Only to reveal the face of a trusted confident staring back at her, also painted with regret.

Ellana hates regret. What good was regret when his hand was already buried to the wrist between her ribs, iron fingers around her heart.

No, the Inquisitor has no need for regret. And neither does Ellana.

Her voice, when she finds it, is a hoarse whisper. “Do not presume to make my decisions for me, Solas.”

He stares at her in surprise. Opening his mouth he hesitates and closes it again, rethinking what he wants to say. Completely incongruous with the heavy hearted seriousness of the moment she feels an entirely inappropriate burst of glee at catching him off guard.

The line of his shoulders softens and the expression on his face turns rueful. “Even in this, you surprise me.”

And then they have filthy depraved grotto sex.

TBC 😘

Tags: @feedthepheasants

[cheesybadgers]

Narcos Fic: Old Habits Die Hard (Chap. 24)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x Horacio Carrillo

Words: 3,440

Summary: It's been 15 years since Horacio and Javier brought down Gacha in Tolú, and now they're back where their story began.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Brief allusions to period-typical prejudices/politics/legislation, very brief sexual references, smoking, swearing, all the fluff.

Notes: Well....I feel like I should post this with a fanfare or something (just imagine there's one playing), but oh boy, oh man, oh god. I did it. I flipping did it 😭 It's only taken 36 months, copious amounts of blood, sweat and tears, a deranged amount of research, the last shred of my sanity, and probably a fair amount of back/neck pain from sitting at my laptop for too long to get here. But hey, if I don't write a self-indulgent novel-length fix-it fic for a criminally underrated rarepair from a defunct TV show, WHO WILL, I ASK THEE? 😂

I can't fully explain the journey this fic has taken me and my writing on, or the deep love I have in my heart for this ship and the OHDH universe that has lived constantly in my head these last few years. Even when I'm not actively writing, so many things remind me of these two everywhere I go. They got me through the darkest days of the pandemic and somehow became my comfort ship, despite er, certain canon events we don't talk about in this house.

Anyway, I think you've all heard quite enough from me for the time being. So, I will just say thank you so, so, so much to anyone who has read, commented, kudosed, reblogged, liked, sent me messages, made me things, suggested music recs, generally been incredibly supportive and kind ❤️

And thank you to anyone who may stumble across this fic in future. Please never be afraid to leave a comment, even if you're reading several years down the line, I will always love to hear from people about this story.

There will also be some moodboards and playlists posted on my Tumblr at some point (and *maybe* some new - much shorter lol - fics eventually) once I've caught my breath back a bit.

For the final time (unless I randomly think of anything I've forgotten, which is more than likely lol), I’ve also added to my OHDH trivia post to cover this chapter if anyone is interested.

Chapter 24: Suerte (Epilogue)

Early evening rays painted the pastel horizon, their last act of the day transforming the shimmering ocean into an inky palate of fuchsia, violet and saffron, the golden sands at the shore still warm to the touch hours past dusk.

Come the weekend, Colombians would travel far and wide to descend on the many beaches, bars and restaurants that dotted the waterfront. Or if they were feeling adventurous, they would birdwatch, dive off the Islas de San Bernardo, or canoe amongst the mangroves.

But it was mid-week and mid-December – when most locals were at work and school or preparing for Christmas. So, for now, Horacio and Javier had the place to themselves.

There was the added bonus of the coastline turning into a dense forest of palm trees just along from their beach house, civilisation a mile or so away on either side of them, so even at peak times, they remained secluded. It had become a daily ritual to luxuriate in the peace and quiet; a pre-dinner swim with no trunks required followed by entwined limbs and sand in their hair as the sun went down.

Today was no exception, the gentle lapping of the waves around them and their shallow breaths the only sounds to be heard, the taste of salt and scent of sun lotion heavy in the air and on their skin as Horacio rocked into Javier, slow and deep, their chests and foreheads drawn together.

It was almost dark when Javier switched on the shower taps, cascading soothing jets over his head, neck and shoulders. As he soaked his hair, the lights from inside the beach house sprung to life, illuminating the outdoor bathroom with an ambient glow. It was a feature of the premium accommodation they had splashed out on, a rare treat away for a special occasion.

The outside space was a mix of wood, tiles and natural stone for the walls and floors, encased by tall plants and trees for extra privacy. A double shower stood on a platform at the end of a walkway, with a large hot tub branching off in the other direction. On their first night here, they had opted for the tub, surrounding it with candles as a belated ode to Día de las Velitas, lost in each other beneath the bubbles and the stars.

A sturdy embrace enveloped Javier from behind, a position they had found themselves in every morning by the shore before breakfast, looking out to a tranquil sea and a kaleidoscopic sky. The day jobs kept them both on their feet and in good shape, although there was more softness around their stomachs, and Javier was stockier than in his younger years. But his upper body was even broader with muscle now.

He was no gym fiend, but he had accompanied Horacio in some of his strengthening training, wanting to keep his stamina up as much as possible. Not just for the obvious but because he was sometimes required to carry the heavier supplies at work and didn’t want to be shown up in front of his largely youthful team.

It was a welcome development to Horacio, whatever the reason. Not that he ever had any complaints before, but watching Javier blossom as he aged was a wonder to behold. Not to mention, there was more of him to enjoy now.

As for Horacio, aside from the sloping curve of his midriff, he was sheer jaguar strength. Not only in the noticeable places, but his core muscles were in peak condition, the daily horse riding improving his posture and taking him back to the drill commands of his cadet years. His skin was more weathered, and his days of being meticulously cleanly shaven at all times were long gone. But Javier assured him – a lot – the ruggedness was part of the appeal.

Javier wasn’t one to talk either, stubble being a more regular feature alongside his moustache nowadays. But that was mainly due to lack of time in his busy schedule rather than preference, so it wasn’t unheard of for Horacio to do the honours for him. For some reason, Horacio delicately scraping a razor blade across his jaw from the comfort of his lap was far more appealing to Javier than doing it himself in front of the bathroom mirror.

Their hair contained more grey patches, especially around the temples, which was easier to hide when they grew it longer. That wasn’t practical during the sweltering heat of a Texan summer, so they kept it shorter in the hotter months. But in the winter, they could run their fingers through choppy waves and coils of curls to their hearts’ content. And luckily for them, their anniversary fell in December.

“Can you believe it’s been 15 years to the day?” Horacio asked, scattering kisses across Javier’s back.

“This doesn’t even feel like the same fucking place, to be honest.”

“Tell me about it.”

Horacio let out a huff as flashbacks of leading his men on a fleet of raiding crafts towards Gacha’s hideout collided with memories from merely days ago of him and Javier island hopping in a hire boat along the same waters. They had taken a platter of fresh seafood and fruit, exploring the remotest beaches and lagoons, where their only company was the local wildlife.

He could still remember the sensation of the blood at his temple as he lay disorientated on the sand in the aftermath of the explosion, a stark contrast to dozing together under the shade of a palm tree or reading aloud to each other the words of Lorca, Gaitán Durán, Arbeláez, Neruda, Paz, Castellanos and Mistral.

“Although, I did notice signs for the barracks towards Coveñas when we were driving here,” Horacio added with a nostalgic smirk.

“Oh yeah? You didn’t want another night there for old times’ sake?” Javier tilted his head until he found Horacio’s lips with his teeth.

Horacio hummed and put up no resistance, his wet hands sailing with ease down Javier’s body, finding purchase at his hip bones. “It was tempting. But I figured you’d want to make the most of this before Christmas.”

“Damn right.”

They took turns massaging shampoo into each other’s scalps, lathering the suds through thick spirals, tenderly pulling at strands until they purred, thoroughly indulging in the sensation whilst they had the chance. And then they did it all again, rinsing off the soap, floating away on the meditative pressure of the faucet and their fingers.

“We could always see if Alejandra has more spa freebies if it gets too much, though,” Javier suggested through the haze of steam now cocooning them.

“I like your thinking.”

It had been a while since they last used such tickets, their previous visits not dissimilar to how their current vacation was playing out. But despite the chaos that would no doubt ensue, they were looking forward to catching up with Horacio’s side of the family. Between expanding businesses in Texas and Manizales and the oldest half of the brood living and working elsewhere now with the twins staying at home studying, they didn’t get to meet up as much as they would have liked.

However, Elena visited Laredo several times, swapping life stories and recipes with Chucho and joining Horacio and Javier in San Antonio one spring for the Fiesta. Her last holiday outside of Colombia had been before Alejandra and Horacio were born, so she was determined to take advantage of having family abroad before age finally caught up with her. There had even been discussions of a trip to Madrid if Horacio and Javier could arrange cover at work the following year.

“Pops is flying out on the 20th, right?”

“Yes. Marco and Raúl are covering the ranch and animals until your father’s back on the 28th. And Jorge is covering the farm until we’re home from Miami in the New Year.”

No one was keen to leave Luna, Sol and Leo, who had long since retired from ranch duties, but between work and Christmas commitments, Connie taking a full-time job in a different hospital, now Olivia was a teenager going on 30, and the earlier-than-expected arrival of Felipe’s and Juana’s second child – Óscar, a little brother to Claudia – New Year was the only time everyone’s schedules matched up.

These days, Luna, whose main residence was the cottage now, Sol and Leo spent most of their time nestled on furniture or looking for treats in the kitchen whenever food was prepared. However, Luna would sometimes still ride in the back of Horacio’s truck and keep him company in the lower fields.

Kira and Fuego had become old pros, showing their younger siblings, Cielo and Tierra, the ropes, not as replacements to the trio but as a new team with their own quirks and personalities. Thankfully, the dogs and Coco had taken well to the pair of barn cats, Churro and Tamale, who patrolled the outbuildings and dealt with any rodent intruders.

Meanwhile, Chucho showed few signs of slowing down, except one summer when he twisted an ankle, and even that was hard work to get him to rest. But he had been happy to step back from some of his more physically demanding responsibilities in recent years, trusting that the ranch and farm were in capable hands. With their expansion plans a resounding success – plus some new ones up their sleeves – he had become more involved in the business side of the operation alongside Miguel.

And, of course, he was always happy to offer Horacio advice whenever needed. But for the most part, he left him to it since Félix’s retirement, preferring to arrange for the guesthouses to be refurbished or to deliver fresh batches of cooking to aid workers and exhausted arrivals alike on the frontline of the border.

“Bet Jorge was as thrilled about that arrangement as my team.”

“Well, we can always delegate to our deputies whenever necessary. One of the perks of being promoted.”

It had taken Horacio five years under Félix’s watchful eye – and decades of experience – to be granted the title of farm manager. Then, Félix had retired the previous year, satisfied he had picked the right man as his successor and Jorge as deputy.

Horacio still had plenty to learn and likely always would with the constant conveyor belt of change to farming methods and technology that landed on his desk each month. However, there was a sense of familiarity with certain parts of the job, like the meetings, the paperwork, and the budget constraints. Except, this time, it all came without the funerals, the upper echelons of the CNP breathing down his neck, and the crushing weight of a country’s future on his shoulders.

“And a holiday on the Caribbean coast was necessary, was it?” Now that Javier’s hair was free from sand and shampoo, he turned to face Horacio, their lips almost touching.

Horacio nodded sagely and closed the gap. “A critical business need.”

------------------------------------------------------

Once dried off, they lay in a hammock in matching white towel robes under the thatched porch of their beach house with a perfect view of the sea, moon and stars.

“So, you like it here?” Horacio asked after a comfortable silence.

“It’s beautiful. I’m glad we came back – to see it how it’s meant to be.”

��Me too. Although, I fear violence will always be a parasite latched onto Colombia. Just when you think it’s gone from one place, it rears its head again in another. Or even the same place twice if you’re unlucky.”

Horacio remembered the stories he had heard from Trujillo in the last couple of years – particularly about Operation Orion. Officially, the incursion on Comuna 13 had been a success by the Colombian military against the likes of FARC. Unofficially, however, there were rumours of a leaked CIA report, disappeared individuals, and collusion between an Army General and none other than Don Berna’s subordinate. It was hard to keep faith that Medellín would ever be free from its past when history had such a predictable habit of repeating itself.

“I know. It feels like one step forward and two steps back in the States, too. Terrorism might be the new bogeyman, but re-branding to ICE and throwing a shitload of money at the DHS hasn’t stopped the drugs and the people finding their way over the border.”

Javier had heard directly from Steve about the shift in his job role since 9/11. Overnight, Steve’s whole department was removed from their current caseloads and signed up for every counter-terrorism and narco-terrorism course under the sun. It was now customary for DEA agents to be redeployed to the FBI as intelligence analysts if resources required. And if their eyes and ears were pulled away from the drug traffickers, it didn’t take a genius to figure out the consequences.

Meanwhile, in Texas, if anything, people only took graver risks in the wake of a beefed-up Border Patrol. Javier had spent a lot of the past year helping to set up new aid teams in Arizona and New Mexico, the inhospitable conditions of the desert not enough of a deterrent to stop families trying their luck or handing over their life savings to coyotes who didn’t care whether they made it across alive.

“But small things can add up to change. Bit by bit,” Javier added. “And at least they can’t arrest us for fucking in our own home anymore.”

“True. Not that the law stopped us before...” Horacio nuzzled against Javier’s neck before making a move to get up.

They may have joked in the here and now, but it wasn’t a change they took for granted. In fact, Luz and Carla had even persuaded Javier to attend a protest or two and pay bond and legal fees for those who had been arrested. After all, he’d had plenty of experience exchanging money for people’s freedom.

When news of the Supreme Court decision spread, it was another weight off their backs and one less reason to look over their shoulders, a chance to permanently put to bed memories of being spied on during such unguarded sacred moments. It was the final line to be drawn under those dark years, not to erase them because that was impossible. But it was, at least, closure.

Their cigarette was almost done, and Horacio had left the opened pack on the kitchen counter. Once retrieved, he took out another and leaned into Javier across the hammock, pressing the tip of his unlit cigarette against the lit one until it sparked.

“But you’re right,” Horacio continued, holding Javier’s gaze between exhaling a plume of smoke. He balanced on the edge of the hammock, just enough to stop it tipping sideways. “Things can change. But only if we want them to.” He perched their new cigarette between his lips as he reached into the pocket of his robe.

Their first cigarette was little more than a stub, so Javier stooped down to the ashtray on the floor to extinguish it. Once he sat up again, a small cubed box was presented into his spare hand.

Javier stared at the black box and blew out remnants of smoke, eyeing Horacio with an unreadable expression, an unspoken question and answer lingering between them and the mist of tobacco.

He prised open the box to reveal a ring of plain silver. Or, so he thought at first glance. But as he raised it towards the moon, the iridescent light caught on the inner band to reveal an inscription.

Suerte que encontré a mi media naranja.

(Lucky that I found my soulmate.)

“Fuck, Horacio…” Javier’s voice was strained, and his words came out as little more than a whisper. He held the ring between his thumb and forefinger, letting the ethereal reflection from above capture each word.

Horacio watched every shift in Javier’s face with bated breath and a dry throat, his limbs lead and weightless all at once.

“The world’s changing around us,” Horacio said at last; swallowing his nerves and summoning his courage. “But no matter what the law or courts say in any state or country, this can mean whatever we want it to mean.”

Javier’s jaw worked back and forth, his teeth clamping down on the inside of his cheeks. But it was no use, and he let out a trembling scoff, an attempt to distract from the shining pupils he finally confronted Horacio with.

And then a broad smile crept across Javier’s features, his palm connecting with Horacio’s cheek before he plucked the cigarette from his fingers and took a drag. “Pass me my jeans.”

It took Horacio a moment to process Javier’s request. Of all the responses he had prepared for – the good and the bad – that hadn’t been on his list, funnily enough. With narrowed eyes and pursed lips, he complied and fetched the jeans that had been flung over a sun lounger when they stripped off to swim earlier. Apparently, regardless of how humid the climate in Tolú became, denim remained a reliable staple of Javier’s wardrobe.

“Check my left pocket.”

Whatever Javier was up to, Horacio was torn between intrigue and irritation at Javier’s temerity to issue orders despite leaving him hanging. But he did as he was told, and in an instant, everything made sense.

“I can always take it back if you’d prefer…”

But Horacio was already opening the near-identical box, and any teasing faded to white noise as he came face-to-face with the gold equivalent of his own proposal.

“Hold it up to the light.”

The night sky was brighter now, making it easier for the inscription to be revealed.

Mi amor, mi vida, mi hogar, mi vaquero. Siempre tuyo.

(My love, my life, my home, my cowboy. Yours always.)

It was Javier’s turn to observe, and it didn’t take long for Horacio to raise a brow in his direction, shooting him a look of feigned exasperation that only came with the territory of a relationship as enduring as theirs.

“What?” Javier said with disingenuous innocence and a vulpine smile.

It was a contagious kind of smile, one that reminded Horacio they were equals in this and that he shouldn’t have been surprised Javier had the same idea.

“I take it my mother showed you her ring?”

“On my first visit to Manizales. It was beautiful. And so’s this.”

“As is this.”

“I like to think I put my own spin on it.”

“You did.”

They sat side-by-side on the hammock, legs facing towards each other with the rings held in their outstretched hands.

Javier’s thumb slid across Horacio’s left palm, tracing patterns over new callouses born from hard labour rather than war. He circled his wrist, waiting for the familiar rhythm but finding a beat that was, unsurprisingly, drumming quicker than usual.

After subduing with his touch, Javier retrieved the gold band, gliding it carefully onto Horacio’s ring finger, easing it over the knuckle until it rested snugly at the base.

They sat transfixed, marvelling at the light dancing across it as Horacio’s thumb ran back and forth over the curved surface in fascination.

Horacio repeated the ritual of mapping Javier’s left hand, lacing their fingers together as a tangible reminder of their bond. Their devotion. Their vow. Their choice. Whether the law honoured it one day or not.

He picked up the silver to his gold, shimmying it along Javier’s ring finger and passing beyond the slight resistance at his knuckle. Not too much force, but firm enough for it to sink perfectly into place.

With palms connected and fingers interlocked, their foreheads met, chests rising and falling in tandem.

“Te amo tanto, Javier.”

“Yo también te amo. Tanto, Horacio. Tanto.” Javier whispered, over and over in Horacio’s ear like a prayer – their prayer – before brushing his lips above Horacio’s brow, the bridge of his nose, both cheeks and down to his mouth, creating their own sign of the cross with each kiss. A new beginning and a welcome home.

They untied their robes and collapsed onto the hammock in a tangle of limbs, silver and gold melding at their chests and hands; their past, present and future as inseparable as their hearts, bodies and souls.

With one smooth motion, Horacio pinned Javier’s arms down into the netting of the hammock, a dark, hungry gaze passing between them as cool metal fused with hot skin.

15 years and several lifetimes may have gone by. But when Horacio had the man he loved, the man who loved him, his media naranja, underneath him, only one word ran through his head. Mine.

Old habits die hard, he supposed.

[milkytheholy1]

ROTTMNT Masterlist

Leo:

Just trying to relax - Leo x Female Reader

The week had been stressful, to say the least, you knew living in New York would cost you an arm and a leg if you wanted to carry on living in your small apartment you'd have to work a lot more shifts at Albearto's Pizza.

Part 2 - Leo x Female Reader

The sun beamed through your poorly made curtains, as loud car horns could be heard disrupting your sleep. A groan was released from your throat as your eyes slowly blinked open, you gradually started to lean up from your couch and glanced around the place.

24hr lockdown - Leo x GN Reader

You had walked into the lair with the intention of playing video games with Mikey and watching Lou Jitsu films with Raph. However, blaring red lights and a panicked Leo was something you were not expecting.

You're not gross - Leo x GN Reader

Request: Well can you do a rottmnt leo x reader were Leo is sick?

Tired yet? - Leo x GN Reader

Request: Can I... request a Leo x reader where both are suffering from insomnia, so they meet up for late night hanging out? Included with warm drinks owo

Online buds - Leo x Male Reader

Request: hey- can i request a leo/male reader meeting each other for the first time? (theyre online friends) it can b platonic or romantic aaaa.

Jealous much? - Leo x Female Reader

"Okay, it'll be easy all you have to do is seduce them," Donnie whispered as he adjusted the goggles around his eyes, zooming in on their target. You stared at Donatello, hands-on-hips, gawking at the back of his head "You're kidding, right?"

Candy Crush - Leo x Female Reader

Swinging your legs back and forth over the ledge of the building, you looked up gazing at the full moon in the inky, black sky. Your jacket was flapping in the slight breeze, your fingers tapping keys on your phone. Idly waiting for your partner, you decided to play some mobile games to pass the time.

Big bro to the rescue - Leo x GN Reader

"I remember practising how to ask you out in the mirror..."

I'm not Mikey - Leo x GN Reader

"You know you're my favourite, right?" "I better be."

Distraction - Leo x GN Reader

Wanted to get this out before Christmas but I've ended up writing it on Christmas Eve so sorry about that, think of it as my Christmas present to you XD Hope everyone has a fantastic Christmas and a happy new year!

Busy - Leo x Female Reader

I just love your 2018 leonardo, like mwah! Beautiful! I dont know if you do oneshots soley but if you did could we have one with leon and the reader just making out and the mood is great but then whoops !family! Just leon being embarresed especially because y/n just thinks its so freaking halarious

Winner - Leo x GN Reader

"You're jealous, aren't you?" "I'm not jealous."

Actions speak louder than words - Leo x GN Reader

Rottmnt leo scenario where he has a s/o, where Leo worries about his red stripes and s/o just goes over and cups his cheeks and kisses his nose, (I’d like the scenario to lead off with just that and s/o doesn’t say anything about his stripes. Figuring they’re actions would be enough here)?

Problem - Leo x GN Reader

I really LOVE your writing, can I request a Rise!Leo x reader angst one? Like ANGST angst where they are having a big fight in reader’s apartment because of something Leo did/said and reader it’s really upset/angry/hurt so they keep heating the fight and saying things until he kisses the reader, with a happy ending but like ANGST, Thank you and keep up the good work!

Pointy - Leo x GN Reader

Hi!!! I hope you are having a great weekend!!! Can I please get a story or headcanon of 2018 Leonardo x reader where the reader is a elf and has magical powers. But the reader is self conscious about their ears, face markings, and their unusual different color eyes. They have to use magic to hide who they really are when they are in public because people make fun of them. Can the story also be about 2018 Leonardo comforting the reader and reminding them how beautiful they are?

Dare - Leo x GN Reader

"If you bite your lip one more time, I'm going to do it for you."

Late night, deep thoughts - Leo x GN Reader

I had this idea after recently reading a fic on A03 called 'Night Light', which I highly recommend it's so good, anyway this idea kinda stemmed from a part in their fic. I hope you enjoy!

What's up, Doc? - Leo x GN Reader

"Its not funny! I'm supposed to be mad at you!"

I don't deserve you - Leo x Female Reader

the reader is very self conscious about her feelings towards the red slider and thinks that even Leo wouldn’t like her since no one else did, but then they are been chased (in a mission or a game with his brothers, idk) and have to hide together in a small place (like some closet or something) . Then a few things start to get serious and he says something that makes the reader even more uncomfortable and by the end she’s crying because she knows he’ll never even love her?

Draw me any day - Leo x GN Reader

Request: could you do a one where yn wants to draw leo (rotmnt) and tries to not show him but fails.

Why didn't you come? - Leo x Female Reader

Requesting a Rise Leonardo x fem reader where she is having bad days of her life and it’s her birthday and everyone had a surprise for her until Leo basically forgets about it? Then he remembers that he messed up and goes after the reader went and makes something I her bedroom like an apology ?

Boyfriend material - Leo x Female Reader

Heyy I’m a really big fan of yours. I just read your Rise!Donnie like fanfic and I was wondering how Rise!Leo would be in a lime. I just KNOW jokes and fun times will ensue!

Acceptable in the 80's - Leo x GN Reader

Okay, so as much as I would love to write this for 2012 Leo, it just seems right that I do it for Rise Leo, right? Like I can't really imagine the 2012 version to be singing and dancing all goofy, but Rise? Oh yeah. I can. Hope you enjoy!

The great pun war of 2021 - Leo x GN Reader

Can it be about RiseLeo and READER being the most charismatic, chaotic yet flirty frenemies and will only agree with one another with one liners. Then one day READER jokes about them being a couple but Leo gets nervous and just agrees about it and the gang takes things out on a dare to Leo?

Sin, Cos, Tan - Leo x GN Reader

Could you do a Rise Leo x reader where the reader has studying sessions with Donnie where he tutors them and Leo gets jealous and tries to help even though he doesn’t have a clue about math or science or anything like that? Lastly, if you can’t get to it I totally get that. Make sure to take care of yourself and drink plenty of water!

You're a mean one, Mr Grinch - Leo x GN Reader

so idk where i saw it but i saw a post where reader x donnie are like “frenemies” but they develop feelings for each other. Can you do something like that but with leo instead? like him and reader give each other so much shit (not to the point they hurt each others feelings tho) and they flirt ALL the time but they’re both oblivious to each others feelings.

Highway Man - Leo x GN Reader

“Make me.” “Bite me.”

I'm not dead, idiot! - Leo x Female Reader

hello, hope you are well! i absolutely love your writing and was wondering if you could do a rottmnt leo x fem!reader? maybe something along the lines of reader goes with the brothers on a mission and ends up getting injured and leo freaks out. like readers not dying or anything but he thinks they are and is like “no don’t die i love you too much”

Anytime - Leo x Male Reader

was wondering if I could request a Rise Leo x male reader who’s a yokai that looks kinda like male naga (a half human half snake being) but the reader is disguising as a human (kind of like how samanita was disguising), and one day as a joke Leo takes the amulet from the reader, and reveals what they truly look like and everyone just stares at them making the reader scared and nervous making him slither out of the lair.

The fantastical case of the missing shirt - Leo x Male Reader

Hi hope you are having a wonderful day! I absolutely LOVE your Tmnt fanfics! And I would like to request a one shot of Rise Leo x male reader with prompt #49 where The reader steals one of Leo’s shirts (since we see the turtles wear clothes sometimes in the show)

The future - Leo x GN Reader

Hey everyone, I'm back on my TMNT shit again. Rottmnt Leo x GNReader - set in the Kraang future.

My way - Leo x GN Reader

Okay so future Leo won by a landslide so here he is, not as much fluff as I had originally planned but a lot is implied and cute. Also got a mention of Casey in there for the one person in my ask box asking for it, hope you enjoy!

Late - Leo x GN Reader

Don't worry this features no spoilers for the movie but I will be doing some angst eventually.

A detective always interrogates twice - Leo x Female Reader

Howdy everyone! So this isn't related to Everything Ends, just want to make that clear right off the bat. This is in fact heavily inspired by an episode of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia! It's from season 14, episode 5 titled "A Janitor Always Mops Twice", I'd check it out if you have the time, it might help make things less confusing. I also use a lot of 40's slang, so sorry in advance, but hey educate ya selves!

The big screen - Leo x Female Reader

Can You do a Rise Leo x a crush fem reader were the reader is an actor for a movie as the maniac villan but she is very shy irl (maybe Leo finds a fan fiction about reader, would he read it? XD) Is ok if you don't want to do this 😅

Donnie:

I've got a date - Donnie x GN Reader

Donatello had wanted to tell you for a while, he wanted to confess his admiration for you, his need to be with you, his love for you. He's, of course, tried multiple times to confess to you, but every time something or more usually someone interrupts the delicate atmosphere around you both.

Trust me - Donnie x Female Reader

Heyo! Could I request a Rise Donnie x Female Reader? I like the other Donnie oneshot you did! :3 If you want a plot for it, I was thinking maybe the reader has a sleepover with the turtle brothers, and they end up playing Truth or Dare... and the brothers try to set the unsuspecting girl with Donnie through the game! XD

Doctor Feelings strikes again - Donnie x Female Reader

RiseDonnie x Female Reader oneshot Request: Could you do another Donnie x reader where the reader and Donnie sits in for a lesson from Doctor Feelings?

Can I pick? - Donnie x GN Reader

Request: Okay, could you please do 32 with ROTTMNT Donnie? I could totally see him saying that first bit with Y/N inquiring the second

Bad to the bone - Donnie x Female Reader

Don gets his battle shell pierced through so it injures his soft shell while he protects reader in battle please? And then she comforts him and he opens up about how insecure he is about being soft so he keeps his bad boy image up all the time.

We're not done here - Donnie x Female Reader

How about a Donnie x Reader where the reader is really self-conscious about their body and has pretty sucky self-esteem? I feel like it'd be cute with how Donnie secretly relates and has enough confidence for the both of them!

Coward - Donnie x Female Reader

Request: f reader is concerned about why Donnie is no longer talking with her about what he's working on, how his day went, etc. he always brushes her off with a blushed face and wants to get back to work. she thinks it's because he's sad or mad or whatever, but it's actually just because Donnie just realized that he has a crush on her and is bashful.

Tough cookie - Donnie x GN Reader

where the reader has a GREAT relationship with all the turtles (like especially Leo, they're best friends) **except** Donnie. like, i wouldn't necessarily call the reader a bully but they like to mess around and make fun of Don alot, but the reason why they tend to pick on Donnie is because they're actually really jealous of him and how smart he is and secretly wanna be good friends with him but since he's kinda a tough cookie to crack they've just given up on the friends thing and only make fun of him.

Why? - Donnie x GN Reader

Can I get a donnie rottmnt scenario where he has a crush on someone who is very emotional base and likes fantasy and magic stuff over science and tech, but they can understand donnie when he talks and actually admit they think he sounds kind of poetic with how detailed he describes things while they have a hard time doing the same?

Experimental bo - Donnie x Female Reader

"What kind of superhero are you?"

Radio Ga Ga - Donnie x Female Reader

“How long have you been standing there?” “Longer than you’d like.”

Daydream Believer - Donnie x Female Reader

May I have (27.) "You gotta stop doing that." "What?" "Saying things that make me wanna kiss you.") With rise donnie x female reader who is self conscious about their singing voice and Donnie overhears and compliments it? Maybe a kiss at the end por favor? It doesn’t have to be long I just am craving some fluff

Say it - Donnie x Female Reader

Just want to give a big thank you to mistresslottie on Wattpad for helping me with this. I literally had no clue how to write lime-like stuff and they're one of my favourite tmnt writers out there so was super happy they helped me. 

Bad boy got game - Donnie x Female Reader

guys meeting reader during a mission of sorts, where it ends with them breaking an object(a camera, phone, laptop etc) and the reader looking DEJECTED, not even mad. And of course Donnie could fix it…but rise!donnie’s trying to be the emotionless bad boy™ right? But no. Sad reader eyes. Says ‘no, it’s fine. I’ll just replace it :(‘ and he feels guilty, and she looks SO sad, so he does it anyway. He gives her the new and donnie-improved whatever.

Proposition - Donnie x GN Reader

Request: That's completely fine with me! I was wondering if you could do a oneshot for a Rise Donnie x Fem or GN reader (I don't mind) where the reader has severe anxiety and doesn't really like to talk about they're problems- kinda like how Donnie isn't a touchy Feely kinda guy so he could relate and helps the reader out. Sorry if that's too confusing. I was inspired by the song Control by Zoe Wees.

Lip locked - Donnie x Female Reader

Donnie and reader have been together for a while and they are in Donnies lab hanging out while Donnie is working on a few things and reader is doing homework for the next day and she keeps biting her lips while thinking, Donnie finds it distracting and keeps telling her to stop it. Until he can’t take it and says “if you bite your lip one more time, I’m going to do it for you.” And reader thinks about it before acting innocent and bites her lip while turning back to her homework, Donnie getting irritated and kisses reader.

The colour purple - Donnie x GN Reader

“I have a feeling we should kiss.” “Is that a good feeling or a bad feeling?” “Shut up and kiss me already.”

Record breaking dive - Donnie x GN Reader

ello, how about: RiseLeo / RiseDonnie (one of them) and the reader are secretly in love with each other, but they cannot admit it, because they are afraid of being rejected by their beloved because of the differences in their species (human and mutant). Therefore, they continue to hide their feelings until a certain point or accidental confession.

Moth man - Donnie x Male Reader

I’ve been binge reading your rottmnt fics and I would like to request rottmnt Donnie X male reader where the reader is also a mutant but the reader is a moth mutant so he’s got fluff all over his body (cause moths have fluffy bodies), and Donnie can’t help but have some curiosity about how soft the readers fluff is.

It's my favourite colour - Donnie x GN Reader

Could I maybe ask for a rise Donnie x reader (female is preferable but Gender neutral is alright with me) where the reader’s favorite color is purple and she always wears it. Then one day she’s sitting in the lab with Donnie when he can’t stop staring and eventually the reader makes a joke like: “what? You wanna kiss me or smth?” And he just takes it seriously and nods.

Mikey:

I don't hate you? - Mikey x GN Reader

Could you do a rottmnt (whichever turtle do you it’s the best suit for) x shy reader ( blushes easily, it’s friendly but when crush comes around gets very clumsy and quiet) it’s kinda obvious that both like each other ( but either can see that they do ) and reader really wants to confess but gets cold feet w/ how the boys treat April?

Food fight! - Mikey x Female Reader

Request Rise!Mikey x female reader where Mikey and the reader are maybe hanging out in the kitchen baking because they were bored with nothing too interesting to do and since they were so distracted by how much fun they were having with their little food fights they ended up making a mess of the kitchen.

Happy thoughts - Mikey x Female Reader

Can you do an established relationship with rise mikey x female reader and the reader needs late night cuddles because she can’t sleep due to nightmares that the turtles (especially Mikey) might not survive one of the missions the team goes on?

Raph:

Little nightmares - Raph X GN Reader

ROTTMNT Raph x Sleepy Reader, you know where the reader has been having bad nightmares, so Raph decides to comfort the reader and the reader would thank him.

Into The Sewers - Raph X GN Reader

So, could it be where the reader is a neutral acquaintance and finds Raph alone in his ‘savage’ state, and has to help him calm down so they can find his brothers?

Alone - Raph X GN Reader

"I can't take the loneliness anymore."

Nurse Raph - Raph X GN Reader

could i request a rottmnt raph x enby reader (platonic) where the reader just had surgery and is kinda achy? i had a surgery yesterday and im looking for some turtle comfort

[simplybybea]

the development of Goth Janeway

Mini-fic from Season 1 of star trek Prodigy under the cut.

"Okay team,' Janeway stood up and brushed invisible dust off holographic legs and clapped her hands, startling more than one of the crew from their activities. "Now seems as good a time as any for a quick dinner break then we can get right back too it. And before you start saying you don't have time, might I remind you that passing out over a soldering iron is not going to endear you to the Diviner. Food. Now."

Dal glanced over the mess of schematics and in-progress items and half a second suit for Murf to hide in and then registered the tense set of his own shoulders.

"Juet half an hour," Gwyn agreed reluctantly, pushing herself up off the floor and hiding a yawn behind her hand. If Janeway could, she'd order them to sleep as well, but time was of the essence. "And then we get back too it."

A rumbling of assent moved their party to the mess and found them blinking at their plates. Janeway frowned a little at the bleak optimism they were running on and wished, not for the first time, that these kids could take a break. At least she could hug them if they asked now. She wanted to cheer them up, but the real janeway had been in enough tight spots for her hologram to know that platitudes would just irritate everyone. That just left a little fun.

"While we're all here," she mused aloud, a mug of coffee appearing in her hand. "I've been thinking Murf shouldn't be the only one playing dress up. Whaddya think?"

She blinked and her starfleet uniform leeched colour, her hair darkening. She'd read about the original Enterprise's tangles with the mirror universe. Maybe she looked like this over there.

Rok was the first one to truly engage, and squaled excitedly.

"Ohmy you can CHANGE what you LOOK LIKE?!"

"Think of it like changing the layout of a screen," Janeway stood up to show her new black uniform off. "Thoughts? I'm aiming for Evil overwrite."

"Can you change your hair?" Jakom asked around a mouthful of his favourite messy food. "If you're evil you won't have red hair."

Janeway thought a moment, and her hair flickered to inky black, sharply help off her face in a ponytail.

"No," Gwyn pointed a fork at the hair, "it needs to still be you. Put it back in the bun, but the colour's a nice touch."

She complied and made her skin match the faint blue undertones, gave herself more dramatic make up. She was, despite everything, rather enjoying herself.

"Nice," Gwyn nodded approvingly, looking distant and concerned. Janeway assumed it was as to whether the safeguards she'd built in would hold. Whether it would still BE Janeway.

"Not creepy enough," Dal announced, and Murf trilled something like agreement. 'Can't you like... Make your eyes red?"

"Red isn't creepy," Rok said indignantly, looking at her own red-stone skin.

"What about blue?" Zero interjected as Dal opened his mouth to presumably provide evidence to rok as to why red was, indeed, evil. "Given your eyes are already blue, perhaps making them more glowy will help..."

A second later Rok gasped in delighted terror and begged Janeway to return to normal, so clearly the blue eyes were sufficiently creepy enough. In the midst of reassuring Rok that if she saw Janeway like that on the bridge they could assume she was still pretending to be under the diviner's control, she pretended not to hear the little exchange between Dal and Gwyn.

"Janeway does know she doesn't need to do that right?" Dal muttered.

There was a pause before Gwyn replied, "she knows. But she's helping. And I think she's having fun. Rok hasn't been so animated for hours. Besides. It can't hurt."

"She absolutely gets points for those weird creepy eyes," Dal conceded, and turned the conversation back towards planning.

Janeways smiled proudly at the team player he was becoming, at the crew they all were and how far they had come. Good kids.

[queenjunothegreat]

*(waves furiously)* Hello everyone! I'm here to present you with a new installment of my darling baby rewrite fic! I'm really eager to share this one with you all as I have been cooking it for AGES! I hope you all enjoy. <3 This chapter is dedicated to @demigod-shenanigans who has been patiently waiting for the meteor scene since the dawn of time.

Without further ado, here is Chapter Twenty: PIPER Learns the Meaning of Love

He took her by the hand and they fell into a heap on the blankets and pillows, curling up together and waiting for the meteors to appear. Piper pointed up to the sky and traced out as many constellations as she could remember, telling Leo about the stories that went along with them, both Greek and Cherokee. Leo nodded along and listened, and when it was his turn, he pulled out a scrunched up piece of notebook paper and started reading off a list of fun facts about the shower he’d slapped together. Before too long, the sky was filled with brilliant streaks of light, and the stars poured across their inky backdrop.  Piper's heart thumped heavy and fast in her chest, which felt on the verge of bursting with giddiness. She turned to look at Leo, who had taken that exact moment to look back at her and when their eyes met, they couldn't help but burst into giggles of pure joy. “Leo, you're the best friend I've ever had,” Piper admitted, almost breathlessly. Leo's cheeks and eyes warmed at her words and he opened his mouth to reply in kind, but the roof caved in before he could, and she landed gently on her feet in Medea’s Department Store. She looked around curiously. She knew she wasn’t really back in there, seeing as she was dreaming and the store looked remarkably not-exploded, but it was still weird. Everything had a slightly fuzzy edge to it unless she focused on what she was looking at, and there was an oppressive silence that hung in the air, broken only by a tinny recording of “What Is Love?” playing over the speakers. 

PS: Next week I will NOT be posting chapter 21, so heads up!

[yffresbeard]

Desperate

I'm not writing DA2 fic in 2024, I promise. [I am, I'm playing the games for the first time before Veilguard and I've become enamored with a blond wet cat of a man.]

F!Hawke x Anders hurt-ish comfort-ish angst-ish in which Hawke will do anything, anything at all, if it means Anders does not die like the rest of her family has. 795 words.

“Stop that.” It wasn't supposed to come out so harshly, but the ring of it echoed in the estate for a moment or two before dying out. She'd only meant it to be a quiet admonishing, really - a gentle scold. Instead it was far more how she felt, far more desperate and vulnerable than she was comfortable showing.

He flinched, but reached to lay a hand on her shoulder all the same. “Stop what, my love?”

“Stop talking to me like you're already dead, Anders.” She cursed the waver in her voice. Siannon preferred her reputation for stoicism. Like her father. She wouldn't let on how fragile that façade was. Couldn't.

The mage made several false starts in an attempt to reply. Deny that he'd been doing so? A lie. Insist he wouldn't die? A promise he could not keep. Beg forgiveness? A possibility. “I'm sorry, Siannon.” Nothing beyond. He couldn't promise her not to do it again, either. He was dead the moment he'd asked her to distract the Grand Cleric. It was easier to think himself a ghost than a man.

Anders watched her set her teeth, clench her fists tight at her side, screw her eyes shut. Holding back what must've been a torrent. “I will not lose any more family.” That echoed, too, through the empty estate. “You're lying to me, and I don't understand why, and I trust you anyway. But I refuse to lose you.”

“Siannon, I'm only trying to protect your reputation-”

“I don't care about my reputation! We weren't nobility in Fereldan and we were happier for it! I don't care about being Champion of Kirkwall; this city has done nothing but take everyone I love from me.” She moved to grip the banister, glad that Bodan and Sandal had left to replenish the larder. “This estate is an empty shell. My brother and mother are dead, my sister hates me, and like as not I will never see her again. All because I couldn't protect them.” She despised the raising pitch of her voice, the frenetic beating of her heart, the sobs she was choking back. Siannon took a swallow of air, like she was drowning, and used her considerable strength to crush herself against Anders’ chest, like she could prevent his disappearance if she only held him close enough. Only then did a few errant tears squeeze past her lashes, lost in the black of his robes.

He returned the crush of her embrace more gently, smoothing her inky black crop of hair, breathing the scent of soap and sweat deeply. Grounding. Alive, if only for now. “You deserve more than I could give you,” he managed to whisper.

It wasn't a new argument, one she'd parried time and again with memories of her father, her family's life in Fereldan - frought, difficult, but happy - as proof that it was possible. It never changed his mind that she deserved the very best of the world, but it did give him pause now and again.

She only tightened her grasp around his waist. “I don't care what you think I deserve. The only life I want - the only life I will accept,” she stressed, “is one with you in it. And I'd burn Kirkwall to the ground if I had to.”

“Siannon, you love the others - Varric, Aveline, Isabela, everyone - too much to let them be hurt.” He couldn't bring himself to say it, but he thought of Fenris, too, for all the bile that rose in his throat. “I know you, my love - you'd die to protect any of us.”

She nodded against his chest, pressing her face deep into the feathers before pulling away to look him in the eyes, still holding him as close as she could. “You're right. I would do whatever I could to make sure everyone was safe. But if I had to, if I had no other options, if it was the only way?” She took a steadying breath, willing him to understand. “I would trade each and every one of them for you.” It was a thought she'd never given voice to, shook away when it reared up. But it was true. She'd always known it. Anders blinked dumbly, eyes wide.

“You told me once you'd drown us both in an ocean of blood to protect me, do you remember? I'd do the same damn thing for you. I will not lose you, Anders. Not to the Chantry, not to the Circle, not to Justice and certainly not to you. I refuse.” The way she said it, the conviction in her trembling voice - it nearly made him believe it was possible. She'd always managed impossible things, somehow. For a few brief, golden moments, Anders allowed himself to live again.

[silent-words]

I've just watched the new trailer. I'm on the hype train!

I will definitely play a Shadow Dragon character in the Veilguard. I will play a Tevinter who's trying to save their homeland no matter how bad it has always been (and fully acknowledging that it was really bad, mind you).

Still hoping to see Dorian by my Inky's side. The former will be my Rook's hero and model (like Anders actually was for my Inky).