#Ive never latched onto an au like this so

[weevmo]

Howdy prefers not to be in the thick of battles, or any battles at all. But! He will do what he can with range weapons when need be. He's an old friend of Barnaby's and accidentally helps him meet Wally.

He's a shopkeeper first - and a Ranger second!

aka now that I'm creating a comic with him in it I had to finalize a design

[soft-spooks]

i am once again thinking about being in a silly little band withh my silly little guys

[thatdeadaquarius]

Topic: Genshin impact.

au: Sagau.

idea: So what if you had the powers of every character you played as in every game you played and then get isekaid into genshin impact with imposter au. I imagine it goes smth like

Zhongli: “I will have order!”

reader, Who played Roblox as someone who lagged the game (explanation: I’m pretty sure ping is also how time works in games. If you can control the flow of ping you can control the flow of time in games.): “ZA WARUDO!”

Heyyy!! Thanks for waiting for the reply/response from my slow ass :0

So they did clarify what they meant/expand so imma just copy paste that here!

“k now I remember. So basically imma write it here since it’s easier: Basically you don’t have to (but you can) transform into the character that has those set of powers but if you do those powers are enhanced.”

Sun: Reader (”you”/they/them)

Orbit: Headcanons-ish, Light Imposter AU (as in, NOT Yandere/Dark), mild crossover elements bc Shapeshifter Shenanigans™️

Stars: bro idek

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: mild cussing, genshin typical mild violence, & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

☆

so fair warning,, ive never seen jojo bizarre, but i appreciate i come off well-read/watched? LMAO

so im just gonna kinda,, guess? like just cycle thru diff. random media, and im hoping both me and you reading this will have a fun time (as this is a little challenge, but i like it so ill give it a shot, dont kno if its a good one but- 😅)

so to set the scene, of how u got to this point, ykno of running like ur life (maybe?) depends on u running around different teyvat countries,

u thought it was weird everyone knew a little too much about you?? (ofc theyve heard u during gaming, they know u the same way we all know Markiplier, get it?)

then a bunch of NPCs/Vision users/Archons?? were REALLY invested in talking to you, which freaked u out even more

and by the time you saw Zhongli, yknow, just the oldest god in game, making a fast-walk towards you, ykno the retired god who didnt move an inch when an old water god attacked Liyue for a test, is now hurrying to you???

ur logically get so fucking scared sm shits abt to go down, u just start running

it isnt until ur reaching for a ledge and some webbing shoots out of ur arm (from a glitchy little spot on ur arm, where it could be coming out of ur skin, but sometimes its a blue and red bracelet)

it latched onto the nearest building, and thats how u find out u can grapple ur way, literally Spiderman style, out of the harbor

and bro, idk if it would be fun, or confusing and stressful, or maybe both?? to just find out u can use any video game power from any game youve played before as you go running from countries bc for some freaky reason they know too much abt you/are pursuing you-

dUDE- they had small statues of you in like every little section of their cities

u head to Mondstadt and as Venti comes screaming and flying at you (in excitement, but ur freaked), u go to hold a hand up and suddenly ur holding a heavy stone tablet that unleashes some holographic yellow chains that freeze him in place-?? why is this familiar-

oh my god u have the sheikah slate from Breath of the Wild,

and as ur booking it out of there, u manage to get ahold of a sword, and u know exactly how to use it to knock back favonius knights trying to stop you (they are concerned for their god who is just unleashing random powers on ppl, pls let Grandmaster Jean just talk to you Your Majesty-!!)

by the time you teleport ur way to Inazuma, (bc u still have this worlds access to ur player/traveler’s powers), ur trying to find a nice place to stay for a little bit

at least in that sweet spot of the Raiden not noticing/finding you, while things cool down on the main continent, before moving on,

and u get some tools to help fashion just a little shelter, bc u dont have any money/mora rn, and ur able to literally build a house???

a mailbox pops up and thanks you for renting with Tom Nook???? As in Animal Crossing-

and rlly if the BOTW/slate thing didnt clue u into video game powers, then this definitely would tbh lmao

right as u see Yae Miko circling ur house, with an armful of books? ..is she planning to thru them at you??, u get the hell out of dodge before her favorite god can follow along

(she knows ur prefrences in books and got authors/trends to start so youd have plenty to read, and she was making sure it was ur house before politely dropping them off! how was she to know thatd spook their favorite God, Ei?!)

u get to Sumeru and think ur safe, hiding in an abandoned forest watcher outpost (1 person treehouse rlly) when Nahida shows up in ur dreams,

and u just,

walk out of the dream, into reality, and possess a nearby ruin guard so u can sleep in peace, bc she cant access a robot,

that one baffled u as you re-possessed ur own body before realizing-

Five Nights at Freddy’s. 💀

U cant do that forever, so u try Fontaine, hoping Neuvillette/Furina wont rlly give af abt you, plus theyre the latest region, so maybe they have the least exposure to whatever the other archons didnt like abt you??

u get there and are immediately summoned to court, and right as the mekas show up to escort you, jfc they have a mecha army

(meanwhile, theyre thinking, yknow. high profile guest/our god of gods. ofc we need state of the art mekas to escort them, its only polite-)

meanwhile ur cape has now become wings, and a mask covers ur face as you glide and fly ur way over the city in an attempt to get to where u assume Snezhnaya is

it doesnt occur to you the game until ur running out of stamnia and catch ur reflection in the waters of fontaine, Sky: Children of the Light

u hope the Tsaritsa’s dislike for other gods/Celestia doesnt extend to ur otherworldly presence so ur just hoping for the best atp tbh

tbh youd forget what all powers you have, and the absolute chaos ur causing urself as u try to desperately rememeber what games youve played thru ur entire life is NOT helping to reduce confusion when u randomly wake up with elf ears (legend of zelda/botw) or get dragged into another ruin machine when u fall asleep/faint/do smth u guess mimics death lmao- (fnaf) 💀

…

(meanwhile the Tsaritsa does get wind ur coming this way, and just, makes the people have a parade/festival to celebrate you coming,

she did also have to get Pierro/Captaino to physically restrain some of them from going ahead to meet/escort you to the palace, she’d heard how the others scared u off, and was, ironically, hoping the warm welcome would clear things up)

☆

well that was, something. 😃🫠

sorry lil car, that was such a fun idea idk if i did it justice!! i thought itd be too op to include every media youve consumed ever, so i kept it to video games, (which, could u cheat the system if youve played smash bros??)

i hope it was at least a decent read, and sorry im half asleep so i was not v funny this time around, but, again, hope u got smth out of it 😭

</3

on another note, im having my wisdom teeth surgery this friday, send whatever u got my way, prayers, blessings, good vibes, ill take anything im nervous 🙃

have a good week guys!

Safe Travels Lil Car,

💀♒

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♡the beloveds♡

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[touyas-multi-purpose-saline]

DAY IV. — FIRST TIME (STUDENT AU)

cw: Fluff, Suggestive Content, Attempt at Humor, Students but 18, Hints at Past Intimacy (Light Fondling), Kissing, Gender-Neutral Reader. 18+ Only!

author's note: I was terrified writing for Shouto because I wasn't as confident with his character. However, I had a lot of fun trying to work this fic out. I hope you enjoy it!

word count: Approximately 1.9k words.

“Well, I mean, perhaps Midoriya’s onto something. There’s absolutely no way that it could have gotten stupider, but then that one guy showed up and—” 

Shouto listens silently while you gesture for him to enter your dorm room before you follow after him, free hand waving in the air mindlessly. The door softly clicks shut behind you, so you lean your back against it to hear the full pop of its latch before you slide off your slippers. Your eyes drift to Shouto, who’s currently standing there awkwardly glancing around with his hands stuffed into his pockets. He turns his head to meet your gaze, so you smile wide and goofy. 

“You saw what happened! Can you believe that he thought I was Pro Hero: Hawks for a solid two weeks at the beginning of the school year? I could barely talk to the guy without Midoriya melting into a puddle of agony.” 

The shag carpets that cover your sticky and cold floor hiss whenever you slide across them in a faux shuffle, and you shake your head side to side to the inaudible beat. Once you get close enough to Shouto, he blinks and then glances away. 

“I think you terrorize Midoriya.” 

A gust of air sputters out of your mouth in a cackle, so you slap your hand across your face and squeeze. Your head dips in between your shoulders. 

“Look, I don’t do it on purpose. I can’t help that he couldn’t handle the sheer amount of simp power I possess. ‘Sides! How come he gets to be such a fanboy of All Might but suddenly it’s a crime whenever I try to be a villain fanboy—” 

“He thinks you’re serious.” 

Whenever you reopen your eyes, Shouto’s mismatched ones are bright and reflecting under the fading rays of sunlight fluttering into the room. Your eyes widen slightly, so you blink them back to normal and cast your focus to the side. 

“Yeah, but it’s kind of funny to tease him. Midoriya gets so riled up! Like today whenever Tetsutetsu barged into your little birthday lunch while he and Kirishima were trying to figure out where the pain goes whenever your leg gets chopped off—he—” 

A hand falls on your shoulder, so you quickly meet Shouto’s eyes again. There’s the tiniest hint of a smile across his face whenever he speaks. 

“They did pose an interesting question, didn’t they?” 

Your wail of laughter nearly flings your body back so you shake your head, shrug Shouto’s hand off, and then stumble a few paces before you flop onto your bed. It bounces underneath your weight, and your body follows its lead. Everything feels weightless for a few moments before you exaggeratedly sigh before your limbs go limp and they fall to dangle. 

“Shouto, you never fail to impress me. Now come over here and sit with me, I had promised to show you the very romantic and thrilling Velocipastor to really send your birthday off with a bang.” 

He doesn’t hesitate, but you can see his eyebrows furrowed by a fraction while he treads the distance. You watch Shouto lower himself onto the bed with a goofy grin. Shouto looks slightly uncomfortable resting on your bed, so you shimmy closer and bump your shoulder into his. You continue to lean against him, and his hair tickles your cheek a little whenever he turns his head to face you. His eyebrows have returned to normal, but now his eyes seem more reserved so you tilt your head and shift your arm to clap between his shoulder blades. 

“C’mon, what’s with that look? Don’t tell me Sero already spoiled the plot for you. I begged him not to do that.” 

Shouto’s head withdraws back a little, eyes opening for a moment before lowering again, and he barely shakes his head. 

“Yes. No. That’s not it.” 

His words sound more clipped than normal, so you start to move away from him. Shouto’s gaze follows the entire time—and if you didn’t want to sound crazy, you could swear that he attempted to follow. You squinted, clambering to sit on your relaxed haunches before you flattened your palms against the bed and hummed. 

“Okay. Tell me what’s up? If you don’t want to watch the movie, then we can just chill for the rest of the night. Or if you’re tired, it won’t hurt my feelings if you need to retire.” 

Shouto moves a little, too, drawing a leg up so that he can mimic your stance. His face doesn’t falter, so you begin to wonder what’s troubling him. You try to reflect on the day, but nothing feels off. Sure, yeah, there were a couple of things that didn’t go quite as planned—such as the Tetsutetsu incident, Bakugou showing up and doing his horrors, Kaminari and Mineta harassment—okay. You’re starting to see opportunities for Shouto to be a little bothered by the hectic dilemmas. It’s understandable, really! You don’t think he’s ever had much of a normal birthday, so you were just trying to be a swag partner and give him something sweet. However, Shouto didn’t seem all too miffed during all of the mishaps. In fact, he even smiled a couple of times, so really what is with that look? You open your mouth to speak, but Shouto is faster. 

“Sero gave me this idea yesterday, so I’ve been waiting to ask.” 

The wind gets knocked out of your puffy lungs, and you crunch a little in the middle. Well, you definitely weren’t expecting that but that’s better than him being genuinely upset. You’d probably get a little peeved at your classmates if Shouto’s birthday was ruined because then you would have to slowly implode them from their chest cavities as revenge. Your head cocks to the side, lashes fluttering and eyebrows arching. 

“Oh, okay. Don’t scare me like that, though! I was worried.” 

You then fix Shouto with a glittery smile. 

“So what do you need to ask?” 

Shouto doesn’t even bat an eye. 

“Would you like to have sex with me?” 

As it would seem, it was your head that imploded, so you straighten your posture and then fix Shouto with a serious countenance. His doesn’t even splinter, so your eyes continue squinting before you lick your suddenly dry lips. 

“Is this a joke?” 

“Why would it be?” 

You don’t falter, and neither does Shouto. Time ticks endlessly, yet you both sit here staring at one another as the sun sinks further into the horizon. Your fingers clench a little against the bed, so you slide them further up and bury them in the pit of your lap. It’s hard to tear your eyes from Shouto’s stoic expression, but you glance down at your knees and hum again. 

“Sounds odd that Sero would put that in your head earnestly. Honestly, I’m surprised it wasn’t Kaminari and Mineta.” 

Silence. 

Your shoulders sag, your eyes roll back into your head, and you toss your head back with a slight lipped moan of agony. The ceiling greets you back, gray and emotionless, and you try to piece through the thoughts zipping through your mind at a lightyear per second. Sure, yes, your boyfriend is hot—ethereally beautiful, pretty, handsome. He’s every synonym in the dictionary and more, but damn if he isn’t accidentally very blunt sometimes. And you’d be lying to yourself if you admitted that you had never thought about pushing him down onto the bed and riding him into oblivion, but you can’t believe Shouto would be the one to suggest getting freaky first. 

You are going to find Sero later and either thank him or obliterate him. 

“So I take it that you don’t want to?”

You jerk up a little, attention immediately returning to Shouto. He’s still staring at you, head slightly tilted now and eyes shining. You can’t even tell if he’d be offended or cool with you saying no, but you’re also unsure of how he’d respond if you said yes. Sero was the one who talked to him about having sex with you, so clearly Shouto must have thought about it, too, but, ohhhh. You’ve kissed him a few times, yeah, and they never really grew more passionately besides some small embraces and a thigh touch here or there. To be frank, you didn’t think Shouto even knew much about anything raunchy—but you suppose there’s only so much you can avoid whenever you hang out with a few of the guys in your class. So perhaps Shouto knows the bare, very very veryyyy bare, basics. Well. 

“I didn’t say that. No, I—Shouto, I’d, um, love to have sex with you but are you sure you’d even want to do something like that? Just because a friend suggested it doesn’t mean that you have to.” 

Shouto draws a little closer, one of his slippers slides off and tumbles to the floor with a few bass thumps. You let the sounds steal your attention, but Shouto quickly shifts his body in a way that blocks your view so you have to face him again. 

“I want to, too. It’s not just because of Sero.” 

Now staring ensues, so you swallow and then start to glance around your room. Your various knicknacks don’t offer wise words, so you have to breathe and collect them on your own. 

“Epic. I mean, we can. Here, let me just—” 

With zero grace and elegance, you start to crawl towards Shouto. He follows, carefully taking off his other slipper and then climbing onto the bed fully with you. His back rests against the wall now, and you nearly trip over yourself whenever you catch those pretty eyes of his again. Shouto looks so calm and collected, but you feel like you’re about to pop like confetti and trickle down everywhere. You have to wonder if he finds this awkward, or if he’s just going with the flow like he normally does. It’s almost intimidating how it seems like he can be solid and unbreakable even in the most dire of situations, but it’s also one of the many reasons you admire him. That realization reassures you, so you regain your senses and crawl until you're hovering near the end of Shouto’s legs. One lays bent on the bed while the other still bends over the edge.

You try not to break Shouto’s gaze before you decide to boldly start to stretch yourself between his two legs. Electricity and excitement course through your veins, and you already start to feel a little lightheaded and he hasn’t even touched you yet. Maybe it’s his heat and chill, maybe it’s the way that his face never greets your own with repulsion or annoyance, maybe it’s the way that he seems to spread his legs a little wider so that you can slot yourself perfectly in between them. He starts to lean his head back until it silently thuds against the wall while your body starts to form a canopy against his chest. 

A slight chuckle leaves your lips. 

“Tell me if you want to stop, okay?” 

One of Shouto’s hands carefully presses against the small of your back, fingers and thumbs fanned out. 

“Isn’t that what I’m supposed to say?” 

A smile snakes across your lips before you lean in to kiss Shouto, the words a balmy whisper against his mouth. 

“You’re so cute, Shouto,” 

punctuates itself with a kiss. 

[brotherwtf]

do you think they’re like gale-sexual/john-sexual for each other (ive just realised that’s a really weird way of putting it) & if not what sexuality do you think they’d sort of have? also, what do you think they’re process of coming into terms with their sexuality would be like (do they explore, experiment, etc) / how comfortable would they be in terms of their sexuality even after they get together?

i apologise, this is a bit rambly 😭😭 have a wonderful day!! 💌

hey anon! thank you so much for the ask!

if this was a modern au I think Gale would have realized his sexuality kind of early in life; he thought that he was attracted to girls when he was younger, but realized it was only because he wanted to be just like them. He latched onto Marge pretty quickly because he liked her energy; her no nonsense behavior towards dudes and protectiveness of Gale made him instantly drawn to her. They fawned over boys together, went through Playgirl magazines in Marges bedroom after school together, and people-watched at the mall and pointed out the boys they thought were attractive.

Gale started living his authentic gay life in college where he tried dating guys but never really found "the one" because they all just wanted a quick fuck, to kiss and tell and leave Gale behind.

John didn't really have the same journey when he was in high school. He liked girls, had dated a couple, but had a bunch of internalized homophobia when he also had crushes on boys the same way he had crushes on girls. He has an identity crisis throughout high school until he goes to college, where he meets Marge and Gale. John initially thinks they're dating. He gets jealous of Marge bcs he thinks Gale is one of the most beautiful people he has seen. Only when he starts getting to know them does he realize that Gale is gay and Marge is bi. He doesn't understand what being bisexual means until Marge explains it; essentially liking all genders. John realizes that that's what he must identify as, bcs he feels the exact same way that Marge was describing.

When he and Gale start dating, he still has a little bit of internalized homophobia bcs he doesn't really feel comfortable with his identity. Only when he sees Gale, who wears his identity on his shoulder and with pride, does he start to accept who he truly is.

Even though Gale is really shy and reserved, he always helps John with his sexuality and identity. He was only afraid for a moment when he thought he was just going to be another experiment for John, but gets reassured when John just is obsessed with him.

Gale realizes that John is "the one" when they graduate college. He'd had a rough transition from schooling into the workplace and his personality changed. He no longer felt comfortable showing the world his sexuality and identity to the world, and just sort of felt lost. Like Gale had done to John, John did to Gale when he started to have his identity crisis. He stayed with Gale through thick and thin, encouraging him throughout it all. Told Gale that he loved him no matter what.

I think later in life they become more "gale-sexual" "john-sexual" because they've realized they found their person. No longer were they looking at others like they looked at each other, they didn't feel the same urges they did when they were teens. John still identifies as bisexual, and Gale still identifies as gay, but they really only have eyes for each other.

here's some eye candy for you guys (thanks @trashbag-baby666 for the pics)

thanks so much for the ask, anon! this was very sweet to write about.

[angeart]

hhau mimic arc rambles - part IV: the inbetween (hot spring bath)

(~5,5 k words) // other parts & au masterpost here

-- a piece of warmth in a cold wasteland (a piece of hope in a nightmare) --

It takes some time, to slowly patch up the wounds on their souls and bury the incessant fears. Scar and Grian have each other, and they aren’t letting go. Not this time. Not again. Never. (Unless we get our hands on this au which, oh, we have. Funny thing—)

It’s now the midst of winter, and they huddle from shelter to shelter, clothes wet from snow, progress slow as they have to constantly try and cover their marks. The food is scarce, and they’re using every trick Juni taught them in late autumn to stay safe and not starve. (The thought feels bittersweet, but they don’t linger on it.)

And one day, the sun disappears. [This will be the eclipse bonus ramble, dw about it rn <3]

In the aftermath, they’re both feeling destabilised and unsafe. Grian in particular grows to feel like even more of a liability, becoming quiet and withdrawn. Terrified Scar’d leave him, despite feeling like maybe it'd be for the best if he did. (Best for Scar, that is.)

Scar does his best to divert Grian’s attention from bleak thoughts. He talks about hope, and possibilities, and—most importantly—future. He remembers that one time [in a bonus fic we never finished kjxnb bUT ONE DAY] when Grian mentioned wanting a treehouse. Wanting a permanent place. Somewhere to stretch his wings. Somewhere to be.

He tells him, softly, that come spring, once the trees are less barren, they can try building one. They will do it! Scar will build as many as it takes. Each better than the last!

And one day, they’ll get far enough. And they’ll build one that’ll last. And they’ll be able to stretch their wings, free.

Grian isn’t sure how much he believes that. But he wants to. He wants to.

They wander through the lands, seemingly directionless. The winter is harsh. The violet is bright against the whiteness of the snow and the dark brown of the bare trees. Still, with stolen cloaks, they do their best with the circumstances, never feeling warm or relaxed.

That is, until they stumble upon something rare.

They find a cave that is warm and, curious and seeking shelter, they go in. 

Inside, they find a large cavern with the ceiling caved in, sunlight pooling from the hole down onto a steaming surface of… a hot spring.

Scar gets immensely excited and, without hesitating, dives right in. The warmth is blissful, melting away all the aches and coaxing frost out of his bones. It’s the best thing he’s felt in a long time.

“I’m never getting out of here. You’re gonna have to drag me out. I am willingly turning myself into a raisin.”

Grian, unlike Scar, hesitates. His wings are still dirtied and full of debris, never preened, never touched. Kept dishevelled and dull to try to hide their desirable sheen. Flaring up with discomfort and aches, muscles tense and never stretched, in an attempt to turn them into something that’d be less of a beacon.

Getting them wet would mean washing off months of that effort. (Months of held-in suffering.)

And Grian wants to sink under the water and feel its warmth, relax into it just like Scar does, but he can’t. He can’t get through that mental block. So he just crouches on the side, sad and torn and wistful.

Scar tries to coax him in by assuring Grian they have enough time to dry them (he doesn’t use the word wings). But drying them isn’t the problem. The problem is making them bright again.

Scar doesn’t quite understand what is holding Grian back, but he tries to offer him ways to sidestep it without tacking a name to it. He holds out his hands and opts for goofiness, asking if Grian is shy, promising he’ll close his eyes, as if it was a simple act of undressing that was the problem. He’s trying to offer a simpler anxiety to latch onto, one more easily dealt with.

And despite the anxiety, Grian laughs a little at his antics. It’s barely a laugh, strained around the edges, but the fondness rings so clear through it.

But Scar’s suggestion doesn’t solve Grian’s problem, and Grian is wholly unwilling to name it and put attention to it—to the hopeless way he feels about the weight settled on his back. 

Scar is stubborn and determined, trying to read Grian without pushing too much. He wades to a more shallow part of the pool and softly—and still so very lightheartedly—points out that Grian could take a dip there, feel the warmth, “And only half of you gets turned to raisins.” Endlessly aware of what they’re not saying, words tucked between the lines: Your wings don’t have to get wet.

 Grian eyes the side Scar pointed out with enough suspicion, as if he expected the ground there to be playing a trick on him, in fact not solid at all. Slowly, he uncurls and shuffles over to peer at it, taut yet curious, unsure yet hopeful.

It’s timid, at first. The undressing, the reach for water. But as soon as his skin meets the warmth, yearning shoots through him and he can’t stop himself.

The water splashes in his rush to get in, something that delights Scar immeasurably.

And it’s quickly clear the water is only going to incite him to give in further, setting alight a craving for more. To keep sinking, to submerge all of his body, to melt against its warmth and let it make him stop aching. 

Unable to resist but still unwilling to get his wings wet, he ends up opting to slump himself over Scar’s shoulders, letting most of him dip into the enciting warmth of the water.  

The effect is instant: the warm water eases the hidden pains and tension right off, making Grian huff in relief as his hold on Scar turns lax, trusting Scar to keep him safe. It’s only Grian’s back that keeps some semblance of tension, wings held up above the water line even as the rest of him helplessly melts into it.

And Scar has to ask. Inevitably, the issue cannot be skirted around anymore. “Why don’t you want them wet…?”

Grian’s breath hitches, and just like that, all the tension and anxiety is back. Just like that, he’s pushing away, back upright into the shallow water, and then further, splashing as he goes, until he’s perched at the edge of the pool, safely out of its depths.

Arms wrapped around himself and shivering, Grian tries to breathe through the reminder of everything that’s wrong, everything that he doesn’t want fixed—can’t have fixed—attention pinned to his feathers that he reslots against his spine, dry and as small as possible. 

But there's no sidestepping this anymore.

It’s only when he admits, words miserable and broken, muffled into his palms and edging a sob, that washing the wings would turn them into more of a beacon, that Scar truly starts to understand this.

It was always only implied and never spoken—the topic of feathers always carefully avoided to sidestep the panic lurking just beneath those words—now broken and brought up to the surface for the first time since Grian's freak out on that very first day so long ago. 

It slots together in Scar’s mind now: It’s not just trauma and fear keeping Grian from allowing anyone (including himself) to touch his wings; it’s his unwillingness to brighten what he believes is to be a spotlight that’s made a home on his back. It explains weeks and weeks of unpreened, tucked back wings hidden uncomfortably under the cloak Scar gave him the day they found each other. What Scar thought was a deep-rooted anxiety born from the time they spent apart actually goes much, much deeper. The fear is a constant in Grian’s mind.

Scar pauses, taking the new pieces to the puzzle he’s been offered and pressing them into place, considering the proper approach. “Grian,” he tries again, voice soft. “One little soak isn’t going to make a difference.” (He wishes it would. He wishes Grian would wash them out properly, let them shine like they did before. He’d fight off the whole server if he had to in order to see that once more.) 

Something desperate in Grian is latching onto Scar’s words. He’s begging himself to listen, to give in, to let go, to succumb. He sniffles, dropping his hands a little bit, looking over at Scar, silent plea written into his eyes. Please. Please please please. 

He wants Scar to win him over. To convince him. To yank this tight knot of anxiety and let him breathe.

With a sigh, Scar continues. “We don’t have to wash them, just…” He hates going along with any part of this, but he’s not about to change Grian’s mind so easily. He has to bargain. “... One hour. One hour where you don’t worry so dang much. Just relax, forget everything else. Let me—” He doubts his word choice for a moment, but commits to it, considering them appropriate. “Let me watch your back.”

There’s a pause. And then, from his curled-up position, Grian asks: “One hour?” It’s small, a word just shy of crumbling to dust. He wants this. He needs this. He needs Scar to sway him here. But he can’t just give in. So he asks for more. He asks Scar to promise that this won’t cause anything bad. 

"Nothing bad," Scar assures immediately, even if he doesn't truly have the power to promise that. He'll make it true. He's determined to. "I'll make sure of it. And you just relax."

The words bounce around in Grian’s head.

Nothing bad. I’ll make sure of it.

He sniffles, wrangling the ever-present constraints of anxiety, and then, ever so slowly, he uncurls. His hands drop from his face and his glistening eyes find Scar’s, locking onto them as if Scar was his life raft. “Okay.” 

He isn’t sure he knows how to relax, not where his wings are concerned, but he’s been tense and scared for so long, he’s so tired, so greedy for the idea of it. And if Scar can somehow will it into existence, Grian will do his best to give himself over to him.

It’s slow. Every move hesitant and unsure, every Scar’s word soft and reassuring. He tells Grian it’s just the two of them here. He leads him, step by timid step.

Grian ends up draped over him again, arms wrapped around Scar's shoulders, trying to stifle his fears into his hold of him as they tentatively make progress into the warmth that begs Grian to surrender completely.

Grian’s coherency is slipping from his grasp as the warm water and the security of Scar’s presence take over. He hasn’t allowed himself to relax in so impossibly long, only ever forced by the circumstances. (Feeling faint, being wounded, dizziness pulling him to his knees—) This is different. This is so very different, and he finds himself simultaneously nuzzling against Scar and entirely letting go, his grip growing weak as Scar holds him with his back above water.

Grian’s wings falter and droop the littlest bit. He barely notices it. They’re hovering so, so very close above the waterline.

He hums, and they dip further, and—

He twitches, startled at the sensation of water against his feathers. Running on nothing but well-trained instinct, his wings flap, frantically splashing water.

Scar pulls Grian a little closer, keeping his hands firm and tight so he doesn’t drop him altogether. “Hey, hey, hey it’s okay. I’ve still got you.” He slides one leg out a little wider to maintain balance, continuing to mumble soft shushes. “The water won’t hurt ya, G.”

Grian pulls himself tight against Scar, his wing movements calming somewhat at Scar’s reassurance. They’re left treacherously hovering over the water again, unsure, as Grian buries his face in Scar’s neck, eyes tightly shut. He’s tense again, back at square one, and even the warmth of the water isn’t working enough to lull him out of it.

But Scar says the water won’t hurt him.

He knows that, right? He’s— The water won’t hurt him, it’s just the consequences he’s meant to be afraid of. But Scar already promised those will be okay.

Grian knows Scar doesn’t have the power to promise that.

Still, he tries to wrangle both the rational and irrational parts of his fear.

He breathes heavily, pressed close to Scar, and he whimpers a quiet, very unbrave sounding word: “Down?”

“Yeah?” Scar asks, a little unsure. “Do you— want me to let you down?” He doesn’t move his hands yet.

Feeling the steadiness of Scar's hands, Grian is sure that there won't be anything unexpected; not unless he agrees, nods, gives consent. But his head is so messy, not knowing how to communicate, and he's not sure he won't misstep.

"The wings?" Grian asks, and it's not much more coherent than the original question.

“The—“ Scar tuts his tongue, remembering to take the time to think. He glances over at Grian’s wings, something he very purposely tries not to do typically, but with Grian’s head tucked against his collarbone, he looks them over, curious. “Yeah, yes— you can let them down, G.” A small reassuring press of his fingertips. “Really.”

Grian takes a breath at the encouragement; it's damp and hot, water and scar's skin heating him up, both working on stealing all the tension out of him.

Gingerly and with a tinge of fearfullness, grian relents.

He lets his wings drop.

Tentatively, the feathers meet water. Calmer, this time. Expecting it. 

Grian’s hold on Scar doesn't exactly tense up, but his fingers curl, feebly looking for a tidbit of purchase, something to hold onto as his wings spread and sprawl, rippling the water, floating atop it, and— And it's so warm and it feels so good to stretch them, to let them be without force and without pressure and—

There's a half-sob, something small and all too relaxed and relieved, as looseness floods through Grian. His fingers uncurl and he sags further against Scar, whimpering quietly without any real distress. 

Scar can’t help the bright, genuine grin that spreads across his face at this success, even despite the small sobbing sounds—because he knows, he knows it’s from overwhelming relief. He had half a mind to cry when he first stepped foot in the water, so he can only imagine how Grian feels right now. “Shhh, good, good,” Scar coos, pressing a soft kiss into Grian’s hair. “Still got you.”

Grian makes a jumble of incoherent sounds at Scar's praise, melting further into the warmth. His eyes are closed and his muscles loosen bit by bit, aches stolen from them. He's not working to support any of his weight anymore, surrendering it all to Scar and to the water. He doesn't even register his wings fully; they float, and it makes them feel numb and nonexistent in the best of ways. 

Loose feathers and dirt drift across the surface, the spot near Grian growing murkier.

“Nice, isn’t it?” Scar whispers, not wanting to disturb Grian’s moment of bliss here. He eyes the spot where the water darkens from the dirt and debris coming free from Grian’s wings, trying not to let it affect his mood, tug at his heart. 

He wishes he could rake his fingers through the feathers and dislodge all the uncomfortable things that poke and prod at Grian on a daily basis. We wants to hold him closer and take care of him, wash all the troubles away, but—

Baby steps, he reminds himself. 

Grian's mind is hazy, all of him melting into the warmth bit by bit. (He doesn't remember the last time he was warm.) He feels engulfed and cradled, held and supported, and it makes him want to drift off. He's melting further into it, eyes closed and mind pleasantly dazed. He thinks he might just stay here forever. (The insides of his wings are warm warm warm; the water gently bobs them, the muscles loosening after months of being stiff and taut.)

It reminds Grian of what it feels like to be comfortable. (He isn't sure he can quite grasp it; the feeling seems too big for his comprehension.) He lets out a long, reverberating hum, almost purr-like, sinking further into the water. His eyes are still closed. He's secure in the knowledge that Scar's still here, he's got him. everything is okay.

Everything is more than okay.

"'m gonna live like a raisin," he says as a vague threat, or a promise, or— or something. Something mildly delirious. He's never getting out of this lake. It's too nice. He's going to stay here and submerge himself in bliss and escapism.

“Yes!” Scar croaks out amidst some airy laughter. “Join me in the raisin life, Grian!” 

Scar's laughter echoes around Grian, setting bright, joyful sparks behind grian's ribcage. He could listen to that sound forever.

While keeping his arms in place, supporting Grian so that he doesn’t sink entirely, Scar ducks his face back underwater and blows some bubbles, loving the feeling of having semi-clean skin for the first time in far too long.

Grian hears the bubbles. Curiosity gets him to crack one eye open, only to see it's just Scar being silly. Unbridled, a laughter spills from him and— He's laughed before, sure. Here and there, they’ve had their moments. But never before has his laughter felt so light in this world. Unburdened.

Scar’s ears flick attentively and he pokes his head back out to share a grin— practically beaming at Grian due to the delightful sound. It’s a genuine Grian giggle and Scar is loving it. It rings like victory, dancing across the air. Scar feels like he’s won a tiny battle. (And it’s a much-needed win at that.) 

“Seriously,” Scar says, smile still pressing at the edges of his cheeks. “Dunk your head in— it feels amazing.”

The idea doesn't seem as daunting as before. Encouraged by Scar's delighted grin, Grian can't help but wish to oblige.

His wings flutter a little, and then he's tilting himself, taking a breath. No more warning is given before he fully submerges his head.

The water rushes around him, muffling the world instantly. It's warm all around him.

Just like Scar before, Grian also brings his arms to rub at his hair, reveling in the feeling until he needs to come up for air. He pushes his now-wet hair out of his face and blinks, before he settles with twinkling eyes set on scar, a wild grin on his lips. "I did it!" And he finds that he wants to do it again.

“Isn’t our hair disgusting?” Scar says, laughing and smiling like that’s somehow a good thing. 

"It’s sooo gross," Grian agrees with a laugh. He drifts closer, reaching out to run his fingers into Scar's wet hair and rub at his scalp, wanting him to feel nice.

Scar makes an approving, happy hum and leans into the touch. “And you’d touch the gross hair? Wow, you must like me or something. How embarrassing,” Scar croons, grinning with all his teeth as he pesters Grian.

A growling noise rolls out of grian, but it sounds wrong, soft and unthreatening. He grins right back, and he moves closer, gaze flicking to Scar's lips. "Yeah. I guess I do like you. Or something." And then he presses on Scar, pouncing to use his own weight to push Scar under water. "But you should really wash them some more," he notes playfully with a laugh.

Scar barks out a half-yelp half-laugh as he’s submerged, bubbles rising to the surface until the noise escapes the watery prison when he comes back up. ”Wow,” Scar grumbles, absolutely no bite to his bark. “And here I was being so nice.”

Completely unphased by Scar's grumble, Grian cackles. And then he leans forward, hands settling on the sides of Scar's jaw as both of them drip water. 

Grian's eyes close and he kisses Scar.

“Oh,” Scar’s mouth barely forms the words before he’s pressing closer, greedily kissing back. There’s a bit of whiplash from going from being dunked under to being kissed, but it’s a pleasant sort of ride, the kind of dizzying back and forth he would have always expected from Grian. Part of the reason he was always so drawn in.

Bouncing lightly in the water, Grian breaks the kiss only to press a laugh against the corner of Scar's mouth. He's holding onto him, fingers finding their way back into Scar's wet hair. His feathers trail ripples behind him. "Do you want to help me wash my hair?" he ends up asking, sounding so very hopeful and impulsive, eyes alight as he peers up to meet Scar's gaze.

“Yes!” Scar exclaims, instant. Because he really does want to. 

Grian's expression brightens and softens simultaneously at Scar's quick agreement. Eager excitement settles abuzz under his skin, oddly fitting alongside the newfound looseness of his muscles. 

Scar removes one of his supporting hands first, testing if Grian isn’t still melting into the water too much to handle it without them.

Grian shifts to readjust, to carry his own weight and stay floating. He gives Scar a small nod. "Floating raisin-in-training," he reassures, wildness tipping into an almost timid grin.

Scar snickers, highly amused by the continued bit. "I'm very impressed with the raisin's progress," he teases as he removes his other hand, allowing Grian to wade freely. "I wish we had soap. I still don't understand how to make soap." It's a mournful statement, but Scar manages to keep his tone light, as if it's a joke and not a genuine problem. He opens both palms and wiggles his fingers in a goofy invitation, letting Grian lead the way on how he wants to do this.

Grian doesn't, in fact, know how to do this. He just knows he wants Scar's fingers rub at his scalp and brush through his hair and he wants it all to be nice and good. (He wonders if his hair will be fluffy when it dries. Fluffy hair and somewhat clean skin. A luxury.) (He wonders how will Scar look at him, then.) "Should I... turn my back to you?" he wonders.

But turning his back carries many things with it. (Namely his wings.)

Scar’s eyes flick to the sprawled out feathers—a lightning-fast glance, trying not to be noticed—before he hums in thought. He doesn’t want Grian to have to reel his wings back in. He likes that Grian is finally relaxing them like this, having them splayed out without care. 

So instead, he tries to say that this is good. That he likes facing Grian and looking at him. He steals a kiss, quick and gentle, drawing Grian’s attention away from any implications turning around might have.

Grian lets Scar's affection easily distract him; for once, he's not hyper-aware and hyper-vigilant about his wings, and so the warning thought dissipates before it even has a chance to form properly, everything in him instead paying attention to Scar's adoration and the promise of getting his hair washed. He giggles quietly into the kiss at Scar's exclamations. "Alright. All yours." 

Scar’s heart swells at all yours, the words satisfying something small yet primal deep inside his chest. 

But as it turns out, Grian floating in the water on his belly really isn’t a position suitable for hair washing. They fumble, Scar trying to throw out some pointless, dead-end suggestions, staying lighthearted even as it’s becoming clear that there’s no way around this.

Grian hums, glancing at his wings—the top feathers are still dry, as his wings float the inner-side down. The seeping warmth from the water keeps them relaxed and feeling good, and Grian doesn't even realise he's considering them without the usually instant flare up of anxiety.

"Let me try something," he murmurs, an edge of experimental pensiveness to his tone. He pushes himself away from Scar, using him solely for momentum, so he wouldn't have to wade to get more space. He spins, water rippling, feathers gliding across it.

He doesn't make enough space. His primaries almost brush against Scar.

Scar flinches back to avoid the wings, shocked by the casual nature in which Grian is currently treating them. He’s relieved, certainly, but slightly nervous as well. “You better not be trying to escape, you have a good fifty-some minutes of relaxation left, mister.”

Grian glances over his shoulder, chuckling at him, but doesn't deign to answer. He's climbing to the shallower part again; his wings are heavy, dragging him down as he fights them and flaps them around, sending droplets through the air. He curls them, bringing them forward, and with a squinted focus, slowly lowers them back down.

The water turns murky again in an instant, as the backs of grian's wings hit water. He almost slips off the perch of the platform as a wave of weakness rushes through him at how good the warm water feels on those spots. His eyes flutter shut without him intending for it, and a groan leaves his throat.

And then he's slipping off the edge back into the depths, this time purposefully. his wings are spread around him, messy and wet and wide, and—

He semi-floats on his back, his hair now dipped in water. It feels so insanely relaxing—a word he was forgetting even exists; he lets out a dazed hum, eyes still closed, temporarily forgetting his mission is to get back to scar.

Scar chuckles quietly to himself, trying to shield the sound with the back of his hand. He’s able to ignore the distress the muddied water caused him last time, too enthralled by the wide span of Grian’s wings, which he hasn’t seen in so long. 

 Even dirtied and drenched in water, they’re beautiful.

“Should I leave you alone with the water for a bit—?” Scar teases after another moment of admiring Grian. “Would hate to interrupt.” 

Despite saying that, his hands itch to touch. They twitch and he hides them underwater, remaining patient.

"Mmmm." Grian lets the water gently push him around, and he keeps his eyes closed for a while, staying silent after Scar's question. But then he remembers: he's going to get his hair washed. Scar's fingers are going to press and rub against his scalp and—

"Please do interrupt," he begs, dark eyes dazedly finding Scar.

“If you insist,” Scar says like he’s not equally as antsy. He approaches with caution, careful to wade between any scattered feathers, then wiggles his fingers on either side of Grian’s head. “Any requests? Gentle? Deep tissue massage? Kisses or no kisses?” He hovers over Grian’s head as he asks, grinning.

Grian peers up at Scar, upside-down, and even though he appreciates Scar’s silliness and him offering choices, decision-making feels a bit overwhelming right now. 

And yet as soon as he catches sight of Scar, he can’t help but tilt his head more, desiring more closeness. His hair submerges, obliging towards the task at hand, but there’s far more than that in the simple gesture: Grian’s throat is bare (so is the rest of him, to be fair) (exposed wings included), and there’s something eager about the way his lips fall slightly apart. “Kisses. Definitely kisses.”

Without hesitation, Scar leans down, smiling. “Oh excellent, that was my recommendation anyway!” He plants a kiss on Grian’s forehead to start, just a taste of what he’s offering, then threads his fingers into Grian’s flowing hair underwater, keeping his touch tentative for the time being.

Grian hums, both at the kiss and at the touch, a sound that reverbs in his throat. His wings spread a little more. He’s feeling pleasant and pleased, edging that state of melting into everything.

Scar starts by running his fingers through Grian’s hair, mapping out the territory and smoothing out his locks to make it easier for the proper cleaning. 

Helpless to stop it, Grian finds his eyes falling shut again. Everything's so pleasant and lulling, he can almost imagine falling asleep here. (He's certainly tired enough for it, the dark bruising under his eyes speaking volumes about that.) He wants Scar to keep touching him, to keep brushing his fingers through his hair, to— to be here, in this, with him.

“Good?” Scar checks even though he knows the answer, his fingers still gentle; he wants to hear Grian say it, confirm that this is happening, that this moment is real amidst this server of hostility and cruelty.

“Good,” Grian purrs mindlessly.

Scar slowly adds more pressure, lightly scratching at Grian's scalp for maximum effect, trying to provide as much relief as he can. 

Grian lets out little noises—sleep-laced, groggy little things—as he melts against every Scar's touch. He wants to tell him how really, really good it feels, but he can't find coherent enough words, nor make his vocal cords work. He just floats, in more ways than one. "'m sleep," he murmurs, as a warning. 

He wants to look up at Scar, but his eyelids are heavy, his body gently bobbing in water that keeps him warm and relaxed. Scar continues effortlessly lacing his fingers through curls and working small bundles of hair through his fingertips to loosen any pesky dirt that's made home there, finding almost as much pleasure in this little routine as Grian does.

"Gosh, making it my job to keep you from drowning?" Scar scolds lightheartedly with absolutely no disdain. Truthfully, the wings might be working as enough of a feather floatie for Grian anyway, but Scar doesn't mind making up for where they slack. 

"Mmmmhm," Grian confirms. His muscles are so lax. He forgot this was even possible. He hasn't felt pleasantly sleepy in so long—so many horrible dreams and endless fears and never-ending tension. This hot spring is tempting him to succumb to everything it offers, and Scar's hands are breaking the last of his resistance. "Won't let me..." he trails off, meaning to say won't let me drown. The sentense stays broken, sinking out of Grian's reach. "Trust," he murmurs, barely audible, word slurred with sleep.

Scar's about to ask who won't let him sleep, but understands that's not what's being said after he continues listening. He smiles. "Of course not," he confirms, lightly scratching behind Grian's earwings, a spot he himself took great relief from.

The scratch behind Grian's earwings sends something in him skittering and haywire in the best of ways. He chirps through the haze of sleep, unable to catch himself. His earwings flutter against the water, sending a small spray of droplets around them, but they settle back down quickly enough, limp like the rest of him. A drawn-out coo is coaxed from Grian's throat as he blindly tilts his head further into it, chasing the pleasant touch. 

There's no tension to Grian’s expression, no fear marring the space between his brows.

It feels like a dream, if this world ever knew such a thing as good dreams.

Scar chews at his lip, swallowing down all the comments we wants to make about how adorable Grian is all relaxed and bird-brained. He's not so sure Grian is sleepy enough to resist groaning and quipping back at that, so he resists, wanting him to continue drifting. 

He directs his fingertips over Grian's temple and to the top of his forehead, grazing his nails over the skin as gently as he can and massaging into the base of his hair. And he lingers. Keeps rubbing circles and tracing across Grian's hairline, taking his fine time as if he intended to clean each individual strand.

The way Scar is touching him would make Grian go positively insane if it wouldn't turn him into an incoherent puddle first. He hums, quiet, the sound barely there, edging dreamy delirium under Scar's attentive guidance. 

He really does feel himself drifting, sleep latching on and consciousness waning. The combination of stacked-up tiredness and the wholly complete relaxation are taking him over and, before he even fully realises what's happening, he's completely limp, breath evening out. 

He dips a little in the water, but stays mostly afloat anyway. Scar preemptively lifts one knee to catch Grian if his body starts to dip too far underwater, but he seems steady enough for the time being. 

Content with his successful attempt to get Grian to relax, Scar goes for softer motions, just enough to keep the flow of pleasant sensations going without doing anything that could wake his sleeping bird. 

After a minute or so, Scar sneaks a proper glance at Grian’s splayed out wings, how they fill the water around them with dirt and smaller pieces of debris. He has to resist plucking a twig from a close-by cluster of feathers, praying the water will do it for him. He settles for what he can do for now, not willing to abuse the trust Grian is offering him here by pushing his luck.

He hums a soothing, soft melody as he works, filling the space as he gets Grian’s hair clean, hoping to keep the avian’s sleep relaxed and nice. Without nightmares, for once. Warm and safe and spoiled. 

Such strange concept for this world.

And yet even those things can exist here.

Scar watches his sleeping bird and he thinks that maybe there’s hope for them still after all.

[yns-world]

always & forever

part i of the euphoria au!outer banks series

part ii part iii part iv

title: always & forever

pairing: euphoria au!rafe cameron x reader

warnings: toxic relationship, mention of toxic family, murder, obsession, rafe cameron as his own warning, ooc rafe

a/n: this was inspired by this playlist. i highly recommend listening to it while reading <3

fem reader, race not mentioned, size not mentioned

italics = Rue narrating

normal text = scenes of their relationship

Ah, Rafe and Y/N. The token toxic couple at East Highland High School. Their relationship had a different dynamic than Nate’s and Maddy’s. Nate and Maddy don’t know how to leave each other alone, but Rafe and Y/N simply won’t let each other go. Rafe and Y/N would rather burn each other alive than to ever leave each other. 

These two started dating at the beginning of junior year, when Rafe first moved here. Some say it was love at first sight, others say it was because crazy recognized crazy. 

Rafe took a step into the main entrance, unconsciously chewing on his thumb out of nervousness. The noise, the stares, the people-- it was all too much. But just as he was about to ditch, he locked with a certain pair of eyes. They were so calm, so warm. They beckoned him, and he felt himself walking towards her. 

“You new here?” She asked, her voice light. But Rafe was still too nervous to speak, he could only nod. “You’re so cute when you bite your thumb.” The girl pinched Rafe’s cheeks and chuckled. 

Their relationship was a heavy one, with obsession on both ends. In just a few weeks, Rafe became notorious for his anger outbursts and nobody could stand to be around him-- nobody except Y/N. 

As part of their nightly routine, Rafe crawled through Y/N’s window and curled up in her lap. They stayed like that for hours. Some nights they’d talk, but on nights like these, they were silent, trying to recuperate from their own lives.

As Y/N stroked Rafe’s hair, she thought about just how similar he looked like a puppy. He was just one big, hurt puppy.

But not everything was sunshine and rainbows in Rafe and Y/N’s world, they both were deeply flawed. Rafe was extremely possessive and controlling, and given Y/N’s past with her controlling family, she couldn’t stand it. 

And then there was Y/N’s constant changing moods and her fleeting attention. She was always looking for something new-- that’s what attracted her to Rafe in the first place-- so you can only imagine how hard it must be for Rafe to keep her attention and love when she’s always looking elsewhere. 

These two were always taking “breaks” but were never on and off like how Nate and Maddy were; their possessiveness would never allow them to give them that much room. 

But I guess their jagged flaws are what allowed them to piece together so perfectly. 

In the week of Nate’s and Maddy’s break up, those two were doing everything in their power to ignore each other. Meanwhile, as Y/N walked past Nate in the hallway, Rafe was desperately jogging after her.

“Y/N! Y/N, please!” Rafe pushed through the crowd and latched onto her arm. With his tall build, he could easily overpower Y/N but a single stare from her was enough to check him.

Rafe ignored her stare and pulled her into the nearest bathroom, locking the door behind them.

“Y/N, I can’t do this. I can’t be away from you.” Her face was as cold as stone, her eyes unmoving. Rafe always preferred Y/N when she was angry-- she would hit his chest, scream until her throat was sore, but he could always reel her in and calm her down in his arms. 

When she was angry, it was because she cared. 

But he couldn’t stand her silence. There was nothing he could do when she had no reaction. 

Rafe broke down, grabbing onto her shoulders and sobbing. 

"I need you, I can't live without you. You're the only one who gets me. You're the only person who sees me."

Rafe cups Y/N’s face and leans down until his lips are centimeters from hers. 

“I could never let you go.”

He sealed his promise with a kiss that sucked all the air from her lungs. 

In some ways, Rafe was worse than Nate. Nate might’ve been crazy, but Rafe was crazier; Rafe had nothing to lose except Y/N. 

Nobody has proof that Rafe is a killer, but it was pretty coincidental that the same QB that Y/N was flirting with had died the next week. 

On the day that the beloved QB was pronounced dead over the school speakers, Y/N and Rafe were walking through the halls, hand-in-hand, as if nothing could ever bring them down. To pour salt in the wound, Rafe had publicly gifted her a bouquet of primroses, a unique and uncommon choice of flowers. But these were one of Y/N’s favorite flowers because of their meaning. Primroses meant devotion and everlasting love; they meant that one could not live without their other half. 

A warm smile lit up Y/N’s face.

“You’re so sweet, Rafey.” She gave him a peck on the lips. 

“That’s not all.” Rafe dug in his pocket and retrieved a black velvet case, revealing a sapphire teardrop pendant necklace. 

Her excitement meant the world to him, it was all he lived for. It was all he cared about. He could never let anyone come between him and Y/N; they had something eternal, something that no one else could possibly comprehend. 

Nate was capable of killing Maddy, but Y/N was capable of killing Rafe— for his heart was in her hands. He would let her kill him again and again, and he wouldn’t say a word. In fact, he enjoyed every time she went out of her way to ruin him. It was just another opportunity to prove his love, to prove his devotion. 

a/n: DON’T BE A GHOST READER!!!!! let me know your thoughts, opinions, ideas, etc in the comments!!! i love talking with y’all <333 

if you enjoyed reading, please consider reblogging and tipping, they help my account more than likes :)

i had fun writing this, lmk if y’all want to see more euphoria au!rafe or just more rafe in general :) 

if y’all have any ideas for euphoria au!rafe or any ideas in general, then please don’t hesitate to send them!!! i want to write more content for rafe immediately <3

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 34

welcome to the thirty-fourth fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics. 

1. Red Poppies by @icypantherwrites

Hanahaki (with a twist) AU — Lance has never experienced a case of Hanahaki this bad. He wishes he could say it’s just the amount of flowers he’s coughing up and desperately trying to hide from the team, just as he’s trying to hide the fact that he technically died at Omega Shield from them, but it’s not just that. It’s the fact he keeps choking out red poppies. And red poppies...

They symbolize death.

the most interesting take on hanahaki ive ever seen tbh. i know icy panther is known for her edgier storytelling, but this is one of my faves of hers! i like the originality of it, and of course i adore the addressing of the omega shield disaster

2. Voltron: Last Dialogue by @uncouth-peasant [IMPLIED CHARACTER DEATH]

After the events of Omega Shield, the Astral Plane has a visitor.

okay look i know everyone freaks about major character death but im asking u to read this anyway. for one its only IMPLIED, technically lance could still be alive, and also it’s just a really well-written fic. lance and shiro have so so so much potential with how similar their characters and arcs are, so i loved how this one explored that in its heartbreak

3. The Poison of Deceit by @icypantherwrites

This diplomatic mission is not going the way Lance had hoped. The diplomacy part on behalf of Voltron is going fantastic and Lance doesn’t think he’d be remiss in saying he had a large hand in that. But the whole impress Shiro bit is an epic fail as Shiro doesn’t seem to notice his efforts at all and it’s only worse with Keith showing him up at nearly every turn. The aliens they’re working on the alliance though have noticed his efforts. But as Lance stands here now, Shiro and Keith’s lives along with a vial of poison in his hands, he isn’t so certain that was a good thing.

the fuckin ‘i drank poison to save your life’ trope will NEVER get old idc idc. the heart dropping moment when the team realises that by doubting lance they may have cost him his life...insanity fr. like i eat this shit up every time

4. blind spots by @adelfie

Lance knows something’s wrong.

Keith turns his gaze on him, dark eyes latching onto him like an anchor.

Normally this is when Lance can think of something stupid to say to make Keith smile. Bonus points if he can get a laugh. Usually it isn’t hard — smiles come easy when it’s them. But something is wrong, and Lance knows that Keith’s smile will be the farthest thing from him if he says it.

-- Lance gets hurt during a mission with Keith and the Blades.

blade pining down bad keith in startled awe of bamf lance...it eats every single time like lets be honest my friends. bamf lance in every flavour is delectable but through keith’s view????? oh god it’s something special

5. Isn’t There A White Knight by @bosstoaster-writing

Kink Meme FIll: "In the first episode, Lance says that Shiro is his hero. But Shiro is still just a guy in his mid twenties, and we've seen him join in on silly stuff ("Blam blam blam!").

So what I want is five times Lance sees Shiro do dorky, ridiculous things, and one time he realizes he'd still follow this dork to Hell and back."

C'mon, as if I could pass that up.

five plus one? check. lance learning to know his idol as a human? check. gentle and careful and clumsy relationships? check. and dorky loser goober shiro, my love and light? CHECK CHECK CHECK. this fic is so so fun. shiro should get the right to be a dorky goober at all times and anyone who writes that is my hero

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

[bcolfanfic]

Hi! Just wondering if you have any headcanons for Josie and Rosie’s daughter? I think that’s such a fun ship and would love to hear any of your thoughts about them.

babies <3 josie is the longer hair- if any of y’all need a refresher in young vets au josie is the bucks, naomi is rosie’s kiddo that he adopted as a single dad. (though she’s also later adopted by his partner aiden that he gets w later down the line) s/o to @swifty-fox who this was developed with. we have created. so much young vets au next gen lore.

sweet girls

well. kinda. josie is a bit of a terror there for a minute.

she is bucky’s after all (: i think ive said before that while obv they both love both their kids, josie Is bucky and micah Is gale.

has had a lot of girlfriends and situationships and what have you

naomi. has- not.

knows she’s gay, is very gender non conforming just. rizzless like her father (sorry rosie)

is buddies with josie and has kinda had a littleee crush on her since they were kids but. always got the sense that josie thought she was too Cool for her.

why would she want some dweeby gnc girl a couple years younger than her when clearly she can get any pretty girl she wants <\3 ugh naomi baby.

they become a closer when naomi goes away for college bc she. struggles to make friends for a minute and josie texts her to check in and they just start talking more from there.

naomi does meet /someone/ at college and. this girl is not very nice but ahhh we cannot stop her your first gay relationship being toxic as shit is a baby gay canon event.

brings her to the big memorial day weekend reunion get together with everyone in wyoming and josie immediately does not like this girl lmfao.

surely that means nothing (:

everything kinda blows up bc josie goes into the house for something, and naomi’s little girlfriend follows her and tries to hit on her. which naomi walks in on.

and ugh god love naomi she thinks josie was the one that ‘started it’ and they just start going at it. naomi following her back out of the house yelling at her that she can have whoever she wants why can’t she let her have one thing. josie yelling at her that she didn’t do anything- her little girlfriend is a slimy little weasel, nothing good comes from latching onto the first person to pay attention to you.

draws the attention of. everyone in the yard lmfao. bucky and rosie and aiden have to run over and break it up before someone gets smacked.

josie all pouty and frustrated off with bucky and aiden rambling about how she didn’t do anything, naomi is such a good girl, she hates that her little girlfriend is so awful bc naomi doesn’t deserve that.

naomi off w rosie and curt crying because she feels like she’s just never going to be happy <\3 even her own *girlfriend* wants josie instead of her, and she gets it bc josie is perfect but. feels so stupid and broken.

eventually when everyone’s heads are cooler josie all awkward asks naomi if she wants to go on a drive to get away from everyone for a bit. get fast food or something.

and naomi is like 😐🙁 i guess

josie gets like five minutes down the road before pulling over under a tree and naomi is like ??? is something wrong with your car i thought we were getting food ???

and josie just. looks at her for a long few seconds before unbuckling and reaching across the console and kissing that girl good.

naomi kisses her back but then yanks away like she’s been burned bc. shock.

kinda immediately throws up walls nudging her off telling her she doesn’t want her pity over her own girlfriend not wanting her.

don’t do that to me jos, please

sweet josie. a terror but a good girl at heart like bucky. just sighs and tells her she’s wanted to do that since before she brought that little jerk around.

naomi still pushes back just 🫤 i don’t buy that. picking at her nails looking at her lap. tells her she can have anyone she wants she sure as shit doesn’t want /her/. all your girlfriends are gorgeous i know what your type is.

(naomi has. a lot of insecurity around the gender non confirming stuff bless her sweet heart. rosie and aiden are such good dads about it. her best friends <3.)

but josie does want her. she really does <3

tells her that. kisses her again. they end up in the backseat of josie’s falling apart car for an hour and make all the guys giggle like little girls when they rock back up to the bucks house like flushed little baby deer.

micah pushed naomi’s little POS girlfriend into the lake

[anamelessfool]

Papa IV & Reader (SFW) AO3 Link

Comfort Reading, Hurt/Comfort, Hugs, Cardiophilia, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Healing Meditation

Basically a description of a visualization I do whenever I feel stressed or suffer from insomnia.

No relation to my big AU. Just Reader hugging Papa IV because they deserve it.

Whole fic below the cut 👇 if you like it please reblog or click through to AO3!

Call Me

You're drawn to here again. Your soul feels heavy, weighed down by the mundane burdens that build over time, barnacles latched and dragging onto the hull of your motivation. It is night, and the stained glass windows of demons and swirling symbols reach outward into the darkness, pulling you in, helping you navigate your way to the safe harbor of his congregation. You arrive just in time.

The warmth does not end with just the light emanating from the candelabras, it is within the energy of the space itself. The soft movements of the congregants, his call and their response , their little sighs and noises of life bolster you as you wade within the crowd. You feel their hearts uniting in ways that in most parts of your life were strictly impossible. 

And then you see him: tall, resplendent. His marble-carved face holds the left eye of a monster, the right eye of a doe. His long gloved fingers dance across the articles on the altar, moving them with reverent grace. His voice holds you like a hand cradling your weary head. You watch his service with awe and you feel fully immersed in the glory of this Dark God.

The assembled flock start to leave, murmuring to each other as they exit. You sit there, too tired to move, to think, to decide. At a certain point you are the last of the crowd within the sacred space, and the silence descends. It's a different silence here than at your home. It feels like the silence of possibility, the silence of true respite. You sigh deeply, sinking more into the velvet cushion on the pew. 

There is a rustle of luxurious fabric, and you look up to see Papa Emeritus IV, still fully adorned in all his glittering splendor. He is gently resetting the altar space, his hands picking up each item with reverence and placing them back to various cabinets or chests. He realizes that you are still there, sitting just a few feet away from him. His white Infernal Eye burns into you, but his human eye drips with kindness directed towards you. It is a fierce look, but the rat-like skull visage he had designed for himself lends an odd innocence to his face. He puts down a chalice he had been holding. “Child,” he speaks in a low rumble. “Whatever is the matter? Come here.” He glides over to the edge of the dias, opening his arms out to you. The jeweled cape he wears glitters in the candles around him.

You get up, feeling aged. It takes effort to put one foot in front of the other, but his kind face and soothing voice coaxes you towards him. You stop just at the bottom of the steps of the dias, looking upward at him.

“Papa, I...” Your tears start to flow, and you don't care anymore if he sees your weariness about life. You feel at home here, secure in this place with an understanding soul listening quietly before you. “I try. I try so hard. I do what I can to make a difference and to be part of the world. But still…still I never feel like I fit in. Like I'm a part of something.”

“You're a part of this,” Papa reminds you, gesturing elegantly around the space.

“People don't understand this,” you mutter. “Sometimes people look at me like I'm insane. Sometimes I feel insane for loving you so much.”

Papa says your name softly, chidingly. “Love makes everyone feel insane. Passion proves you're human. Come forward my child.”

He opens his arms out to you, tilting his mitred head toward you like a dark saint, a noble animal. Your ribcage can barely contain your rattling heart. You step forward into his presence, into his arms, carefully pressing yourself against the silken embroidered solidness of his chest. His arms close around you, sweeping you into a gentle, protective embrace. Your eyes become heavy, lulled by the smell of sweet smoke imbued in his robes. His gloved hands rub gentle circles against your arms, his cape enveloping you like the tender wings of a bat. You sigh deeply. This is the safest place in your world.

“Dearest,” he begins, and a hand wanders to your head to stroke your hair. “You worry so much about others. About their need and their approval. You have nothing to fear. You needn't open your heart to those who don't see your beauty. Not everyone deserves your light.”

You fit perfectly in his arms, and at last the tears dry on your face. Your arms curl around his waist and he does not resist, but rather presses you further into him. Your ear brushes up against his heart, buried beneath layers of jewels and cloth-of-gold, but it is a man's heart, a heart that beats like yours or mine. To reside in the space between those beats, to nestle within the sound…

How did the song go? Wild horses. Wild, wild horses.

“You are home here,” Papa IV says softly, his voice rumbling in his chest. “There is nothing to fear here. There is nothing needed of you, asked of you. All that you do, all that you strive for…is not wasted.” 

At last you feel ready to step back from him, to admire him from a distance. He holds your hands still, smiling behind his skull-like visage. You commit his scent to memory. The gems across his body you know will dazzle your dreams for many nights to come. “I'm ready now.”

“Come.” Papa IV offers you his arm and you walk down the aisle, to the entrance of the nave, back towards the noise and grey of the real world. You squeeze his arm and he stops short of the door, looking into you, giving you the full attention of his shark-like eye. "Tesoro… I will always be here. In this seat in your heart, I remain. You can always reach me. Close your eyes and I am there.”

You test his words and softly close your eyes. Despite the darkness, his image endures. His golden light, the rich blue folds of his vestments penetrate your mind's eye. He is truly there. He will always be there.

The air of the real world hits your face like an icy blast, and you step into it, your heart a bit lighter than when you arrived. You can achieve anything. Peace can always rise to meet you, to appear on your own terms. As the door closes behind you his voice reaches out in a final caress that echoes through your soul: “ Call me. Call me. Call me.”

My Fic List

If you like my things please reblog or leave kudos! ❤️

@historian-crown @monkberryghouldelight @iichorot @in-cardi-c-we-thrust @riptide-kid @the-theshiro-123

[vivisols]

Sooooo... this new fic -tell me something about it (so much or so less you want to share) ;P

EHEHE GLADLY IM SO GLAD YA ASKED!!!! you dont understand how excited i am to talk about it lmao :DDDDDD

so my newest fic is.... a post apocalypse mer au!

ehehe!!! :3c i mentioned it in some of the author notes of claw at the stars and im soooo excited to actually finish chapter 1 of it!!! its only like. 30% done so far bc im playing video games non-stop on my writing break but im chugging along xD

the basic summary is that after a meteor strikes the earth (again), humanity has had to rapidly evolve to survive the harsh conditions of rising sea levels and much harsher temperatures. (id elaborate more on some science and biology stuff ive been brainstorming too but that's SPOILERS </3) more under the cut!

long story short, theres evolved people and creatures evolved from people on land and merfolk evolved from people in the sea! plus theres new languages thanks to evolving and changing vocal chords! (reallyyyy i just wanna get wacky with humanoid designs xD can you tell i like doing that yet???)

as for the fic, here's a quick summary of the very basic plot :3

a few decades after this meteor hits, the daycare attendant wakes up from an emergency shutdown in the ruins of the pizzaplex. with no telling of how many years its been, they have to pick up the pieces of where they left off and navigate this new world. with the help of y/n (dats YOU!!!), a mer who ended up on land, they slowly get their bearings and try to settle in to their new life, scrounging for parts to repair themselves in the overgrown remains of cities.

y/n has never even thought about going on land, but of course, the one time they do they have to drag around a robot that doesn't even understand what they're saying. sun and moon, meanwhile, latch onto you like a lost puppy as they try their best to learn the new language and figure out what you keep signaling to them.

(why were you on land? can't say! since, well, it would be spoilers...)

theres gonna be tons and tons of fluff and mystery and adventure and romance and LOREEEEE! all the tropes im obsessed with! and of course vanessa is here too because i love herrrr :3

anyways, i cant share toooo much besides the basic summary since i love being vague and mysterious hehehe but! im nearly done with the first chapter :3 it will likely be out sometime in january, IF not january 1st! im super motivated :3c

as a reward for listening to my way too long ramble, have this super quick concept sketch i did the other day!

again, really just a quick sketch but! you can kinda see what im going for maybe?? XD

i hope this was sufficient for now! feel free to ask for more if ya want! i LOVE talking about my ideas ;D

[genderfluidrika]

Long unfocused rant abt the yandere trope (and how its affected bpd overtime)

I'll never hate myself for being mentally unwell as a kid but and I'll never regret that I latched onto harmful things to feel normal and to validate how I was, but I will advocated for the like denormalization of those things or at least having those things in spaces where minors can access it.

When you're a child desperately trying to figure out whats wrong with you and whether or not the way you think and feel is normal you'll take anything that people seem to like and support. for me that was the yandere trope, and it mostly only made me worst for the longest time. yes it eventually lead me to finding out abt bpd but only starting with the stigma. I didnt realize/find out that it was something to be worked through until I was in junior year of hs. and I found out abt yandere trope all the way in 6th grade.

While the yandere trope most likely wasnt invented based off of bpd its very very hard to say that it doesnt effect and up hold a stigma around it nowadays. it pushes harmful stereotypes about mental illnesses and the main one that gets it is bpd. shit like 'i want an obsessive partner' 'I want a partner thatd do anything for me' 'I want a girl like (anime girl that fits the yandere trope here ex. himiko toga or misa)!' has become stupid common

ive seen yandere aus for ships making a comeback lately and when I point out how we shouldnt be bringing it back people excuse it with 'its just fictional' or 'its not hurting anybody' when it has a long history of doing so. not to mention we hate 'booktok' girlies for liking basically the equivalent of the yandere trope in their books (those theirs is typically more sexual obviously) with like stalker or possessive male characters but at least they keep their shit in adult spaces (most of the time...)

let me get back to the bpd thing. for so long it was the closest thing younger people with bpd had to explaining how they were and it was HEAVILY romanticized and even came with a little made up disorder called 'obsessive love disorder' that some people STILL used to this day. ive come across accounts on both tumblr and twitter where its basically people feeding and feeding and feeding into the users bpd and shitty thoughts that come with it when it comes to love.

my cat distracted me and ive kind of lost what little focus I had on this subject but I hope at least a few people get what I mean when I say that the yandere trope and tropes like it have had a severe effect on people with bpd and that its not something that should be popularized and romanticized again AT THE VERY LEAST not in spaces where minors have easy access.

[k9effect]

ok you’ve got me thinking about hangclone now, never thought of it before but now i have to know LMAO. how do you think they handle being in very different ranks and in the context of the dagger squad becoming a permanent fixture in nevada (or wherever they are idek haha) (or however they are stationed in your fic) and cyclone being a senior officer with hangman under his command more or less?

i always think about this with icemav but obviously there’s next to no age gap, only rank and not always in direct links with each outer with mav being off at dark star.

regardless of if the ship is my fave or not i LOVE character dynamics and this one is a doozy for interesting dynamics haha so i love hearing your thoughts about it!

yesssss ive got youuu lol

in my fic its kind of like, immediately post mission, so they're on leave for a couple months and relatively safe from prying eyes. beau has done this sort of arrangement a few times in the past, one with another guy in the navy so he knows how to keep it all on the downlow and separate the whole idea of them being superior and subordinate and the rank gap etc etc but jake is PANICKING after a few days loll like that's his admiral??? hows he supposed to handle this??? and he cant even talk to JAVY about it all like oh god he's fucked. but beau is super nice and helping him work through it all, offering him outs and no strings attached, reassuring him that their dynamic outside of work wont influence them at work, that jake's achievements will be his own and not a result of favouritism etc y'know?

I've also got this whole scene in my head off jake showing up at beau's house cause he's kind of a wreck and needs beau to help calm him down but beau's got his kids over for dinner (a boy and a girl, both in their mid 20s) and jake just, feels like he's intruding, he honestly didn't realise beau had been married or had kids. but beau offers him a seat at the table, offers him a plate of dinner, offers his attention and comfort and jake latches onto it all. he feels awkward at dinner, making small conversation with the kids. he helps wash up after dinner and the kids head home that night, they have work in the morning, but jake can't quite manage to leave, so beau offers him a place in his bed as well, holding him close and jake has never slept so well.

i just,,, raaaaa theres so much to them, they're so complex. two people at two very different points in their lives just sorta,, coming together and realising they work. they REALLY work. and its nice, and they're happy, and their jobs be damned, they'll make this happen

i also have like, so many thoughts on like??? omegaverse aus ahahh its all snowballed in my head I'm so insane for them dude

[eliotquillon]

PLOT: shelby/lucy. anastasia/nero. elena/nero. raven/verity >:^)

shelby/lucy: doesn't make sense, compels me. i have no idea why i latched onto them as a couple bc they hardly interact one on one (other than shelby technically being the one who introduced her to the others?) and realistically shelby/laura or lucy/laura makes more sense if we're talking abt ships that have any kind of foundation in canon. However this is maybe exactly WHY it compels me. i think they have a lot in common tbh (difficult family relationships, attempted concealed identities). and while i find shelby super shippable with every core four member i can never really see any of those relationships working out in the long run for her (shelby/laura i always see as one sided/laura choosing otto, shelby/otto is a short lived teenage fling that has tons of chemistry but is also super tosxic for them both, and bloodline epilogue kind of confirmed my 'shelby and wing go on a 'break' post graduation and just never get back together' headcanon), whereas with lucy i think i can? like they have a good enough balance of similarities and differences (whereas shelby/otto are too similar and shelby/wing are too different for me). idk obviously in canon it could never work because lucy fucking DIED but it's fun to imagine aus where she didn't!

anastasia/nero: makes sense kinda, compels me. im so sorry mark walden i say this w all the love and respect in the world you CANNOT tell me you wrote those books not intending us to believe anastasia and nero hatefucked nasty. the whole bucharest thing is so deliciously vague like...idk what else couldve gone on. my more 'fun' nerostasia headcanons (eg that anastasia and elena were the twins, that anastasia/nero had some overlap with elena/nero) are definitely way out of the realm of canon though so i think i can't say it fully makes sense. anyway yes it compels the hell out of me they are my ants in a lab!!! i think i don't enjoy them on their own so much as i enjoy them as part of the rich tapestry of Fucked Up Furan Dynamics like the two are inextricable for me. but anyway yeah i think one of my fave fics ive ever written was that bucharest nerostasia fic. they really get my brain goin

elena/nero: makes sense, doesn't really compel me. makes sense because the whole romeo and juliet thing and also in the wider fanon saga of nero vs the furans it is objectively funny and very in character for nero to turn around and make his nemeses' baby sister into a teen mom. however while i am incredibly compelled by nero and the furans as a family, and am SUPER SUPER obsessed w elena on her own, them together specifically is not something i'm super interested in. elena is so so fascinating to me and always has been, but not because of her relationship w nero. i think it's fun to reflect on how nero perceives and elevates elena after her death, and it's fun to talk abt the consequences of their relationship, but the actual relationship itself devoid of any of the furan Drama? eh. just not something that particularly inspires me i don't think

raven/verity: makes sense, UNFORTUNATELY DOESNT COMPEL ME. to be clear when i say makes sense i mean in a hatefuck-y way. they were definitely homoerotically obsessed with each other even before raven murdered verity's sister. i wish wish WISH this was something that got my brain chugging because on paper it ticks all my boxes (messy hatesex, lesbians, assassins) but in practice it's just never been something i've gone 'wow i need to write/think abt this'. DONT GET ME WRONG I LOVE READING IT HINT HINT but i dont think i'll ever write for it

[jurassic-tales]

JURASSIC PARK x PACIFIC RIM

(This year marks the 30th anniversary of Jurassic Park and the 10th of Pacific Rim, so I thought I'd smash the two together in a celebratory AU! Hope you enjoy ^^)

2003: 'Jurassic Park' on Isla Nublar had been going for nearly ten years; it was a worldwide phenomenon. They brought dinosaurs back to life and nothing went wrong. Even a decade later it was still pulling in the numbers and raking in the money. But then it all changed...

The first Kaiju emerged from a rift beneath the Pacific Ocean. It first broke the surface near Nublar, passing by. Nobody knew what it was. And it continued to the mainland, destroying the first city it found. It took several days and combined military forces to take it down. In the end a nuclear warhead ended its reign of destruction...But only a few months later a second Kaiju emerged...And then another...And then it sank in that this wasn't going to stop. Nukes were messy; we needed a new weapon...

The world pooled together its resources and formed the Pan Pacific Defense Corps and the Jaeger programme was born; giant mechs controlled by pilots connected by a shared neural system. InGen, the company behind Jurassic Park, were a heavy investor; they brought back the dinosaurs and didn't want Kaiju to wreak havoc on the island. They collaborated with the PPDC and friendly rival BioSyn to set up a base where several Jaegers of their own would be stationed. This Shatterdome would be codenamed 'Death Six'.

The Jaegers stationed at Death Six were all inspired by the most popular dinosaurs InGen brought back to life. Nature had inspired some of the deadliest Jaegers that the Kaiju had ever faced...

REGINA THUNDER - Mk. II - One of the largest Mark II Jaegers constructed, Regina Thunder was modelled by the legendary Tyrannosaurus...specifically after the resident Tyrannosaur living in Jurassic Park that fans have dubbed ' The Queen of Nublar'. Thunder is built with strength and power in mind, culminating in a pair of 'rex heads' at the ends of the primary arms. Both heads can deliver a crushing force that can shatter armour plating on a Kaiju and tear them apart. Many fights usually lead to Kaiju heads sinking to the ocean floor. As a bonus, two smaller arms (referencing the Tyrannosaurs actual arms) tucked into the body can deploy and latch onto the Kaiju, keeping them close for melee combat, dealing extra damage or carrying the remains of a successful battle.

IMPALER COLORADO - Mk. III - A hefty Mark III Jaeger, Impaler Colorado was the only one of the four InGen Jaegers to be based on a herbivore. But make no mistake, Impaler is a brutal war machine. Like its inspiration, the Triceratops, the Jaeger is built to attack head on. Using a charging technique, Impaler would throw punches, but the Kaiju would never know which punch would deploy one of the horn-based arm-blades. The razor-edged blades would easily skewer the Kaiju, causing serious damage. And if the Kaiju attacked first, Impaler's head would be protected by its frill, lined with diamond-tipped horns...And in the middle of the chest, the Triceratops' nose horn is replicated. Possibly the strongest horn in Impaler's arsenal, the Jaeger pilots would sometimes ensure Kaiju death by ripping it in half on its chest horn. The pilots also refuse to allow the horns to be cleaned, so they stay stained with Kaiju blood.

RAPTOR VELOCITY - Mk. IV - One of the fastest Jaegers in service, Velocity features a slimmer frame than older models with an advanced pelvic suspension system. Like its inspiration, the Velociraptor, Velocity features sickle claws on its feet, but also larger retractable hooked claws on its arms. Its size, speed and weapons mean that it can sneak up on a Kaiju and latch on, tearing into the body. While older Jaegers are some the Kaiju need to avoid, Raptor Velocity is the one that the Kaiju need to watch out for.

RANGER VENOM - Mk. V - The newest Jaeger to join the fleet, Ranger is inspired by Jurassic Park's most hotly-debated dinosaur, the Dilophosaurus. Despite InGen accidentally cloning the dinosaur with unusual genetics, this Jaeger made use of the JP dinosaur's less-accurate attributes. The chest is modelled after the frill and can open up to reveal a projectile launcher, loaded with concussive missiles that not only do explosive damage, but spread an adhesive liquid that scientists at Death Six concocted; this liquid is especially corrosive to Kaiju flesh. And if Ranger ever runs out of ammunition, speed and agility is on its side, along with deployable chainsaw-based weapons on each arm. Naturally.

(Bonus; I drew all four Jaegers across two sheets of paper so that they would all look like they're stood together in a line. ^^)

Happy 30th Jurassic Park and happy 10th Pacific Rim. \^^/

AM

[fluffallamaful]

Your addition of Sam and Quackity having flashbacks thanks to Dream’s missing limb fits so well!

Sam is completely torn. On one hand, he wants to snuggle Dream close and never let him go. He wants to groom his hair and squeeze him round the waist and nuzzle into his neck and face and everything he can reach. But Dream’s explosion at him is still fresh in his mind, and he doesn’t want to make him feel worse. So he stays stoic. He sits nearby, reading a book. He doesn’t show how much he wants to smother him in kisses and cuddles and he doesn’t even really TALK to Dream anymore, instead just sitting there like a silent guard.

Unfortunately, Dream takes this sudden lack of affection as Sam punishing him for acting out.

Quackity, meanwhile, can barely stand to be in the same room as Dream right now. He’s “helping” with meals at first before Bad kindly kicks him out of the kitchen before he poisons someone, and then he’s cleaning the whole place. Constantly. He doesn’t even sleep — he knows he’ll dream if he does — he just works and works and works and works and —

Eventually Sapnap manages to pull him aside. He reveals that he knows about the torture. And Quackity just breaks down.

It isn’t the confrontation that Sapnap had expected. It’s not Quackity trying to play it off as “Dream is lying” or “not so bad” or “a necessary evil” or “stop being a wimp”. Instead, it’s Quackity latching onto him like a koala and bawling his eyes out as he confesses to everything — the details about the torture, how he’d go there every day, how he’d lie about others knowing and suggesting different tactics, how he kept coming up with more and more creative uses of everyday items and now he can’t see so much as a paperweight without thinking about how it could be used to crush someone’s fingers — how he liked it. And now with Dream losing a leg he feels like he’s right back at square one and doesn’t know what to do.

Sapnap is sickened. But…he’s also relieved. He’s had time to chew on this for a while, and even if he didn’t know the details he already knew that it was bad. Sure, this really drives the point home and makes him want to throw up a little, but. He’s had time. And Quackity…doesn’t want to go back. He wants to be someone else. He wants to help Dream now. That’s someone who’s changed. Sapnap can work with this. So he holds his love close as he cries his eyes out and promises that everything is gonna be okay.

AHHHHHH SEEE IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT!!!! where sap goes to confront quackity about the torture and quackity just bursts into tears of despair aaHh

(discussion below)

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i just was always so excited for this confrontation in the canon lore,, but in the AU it’s just so much more layered coz i feel like it would allow for sap and quackity to discuss the limbo and ACTUALLY be on the same page as each other. which allows them to not only help each other,, but to help dream as well :( eeeeee

i’m bringing back @sleepy--anon ‘s hc that sap uses ear kisses to comfort quackity :(( like quackity will wake from a nightmare in the middle of the night and sap will hug him close, remind him that he’s ok, safe and that dream is also safe and healing,, and then kiss his ear and side/back of neck until quackity giggles himself back to sleep

also really like the idea of sap helping quackity to change the bandages on dreams injuries,, knowing full well that quackity is battling with inner demons,, but sapnap promises that he won’t let anything bad happen. i just need fluff from these two lmao

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