#One Piece: Cat verse

[god-usopps-preacher]

Thank you for the honesty of the 5% on the cat pole, you've been spared with a read more 🙏🏼

Now for the other 95%, here's my AU on One Piece where half the characters are cats.

My favourite hobby over the last 2 years has been making AU's for stories I like where the characters are cats either in a Modern world cat cafe or their own world, and with my One Piece phase coming back into full swing let me tell you I am having a blast making this cat version of One Piece.

And an additional rule for this AU, if something here doesn't seem logical for cats to do just don't think about it too much. It's like how Zoro can be human but lift 10x his weight, just don't think about it and have fun.

Here are the main story points and history so far:

- The Strawcat Pirates are a group of cats that live and travel on a pirate ship belonging to Captain Merry. In this AU, Merry is a human and the Captain of a pirate crew, and each of her crewmates is a personified version of a different part of the og ship.

- Cats in this world were worshipped immensely and even seen as Gods in old times in this world (like real life tbh), and at some point around the time of the WG coming into power these beliefs died down.

- Gol D.Roger is a big cat, who was the 'pet' of the most wealthy, famed and powerful pirate crew of the time. To set an example and to lure out the crew members by using him as bait, they set up a public execution for him (unknown to them, this big cat was actually the captain of that crew).

- Haki in this world also sometimes has the ability to allow cats to communicate with humans in various ways. Mostly in a telepathic sense. Gol D. Roger had this ability, and in his final speech he used it to make sure the people could hear his last words alongside the cats. Believing a devil fruit was being used, the marines were ordered to go forth with the execution instead of keeping the animal as bait, since keeping him alive was becoming dangerous.

- The cats that gathered by the execution stand where the first to race away en masse, understanding Rogers final words immediately. The people didn't move at first, unsure where what they heard came from and if they really heard it. After the first few people started dashing to the ships upon realisation and not risking losing this chance to being skeptical, the rest of the crowd followed and the golden age of piracy began.

- Because of the incident at Logue Town, and based on some old history in this world, a lot of pirates believe that cats are the key to finding where the One Piece is buried. So, a lot of pirates searching for the great treasure will have a few determined cats on board in order to aid their search. Some pirates believe any cat will do, but the pirates that do the best know it takes a determined cat with a great passion for Adventure.

- While a lot of pirates are sailing in search of the One Piece, it's mostly cats that make up the most determined of the searchers. So finding a few cats for your ship isn't as hard, but it can be tricky to convince them to join since its the cat that chooses the ship/crew that it wants to aid them in their own journey.

- The Pirate cats and Pirate people are co-dependant on eachother. The cats wanting to sail as pirates to find the One Piece/accomplish their dreams but being unable to do a lot of ship maintenance and sailing because of their cat bodies, the people wanting to find the One Piece/explore the grandline but needing the luck and mysterious qualities that Cats uniquely have in this world to aid them on their journey.

So that's the history. Not every character in this AU will be a cat either. Most main characters will be cats and all of the strawhats will be cats, but I'm mainly deciding the species based on:

1) What I think would fit with the new changes for this version of One Piece

2) What I find funny

I'm gonna make a post each on the arcs and how they go in the catverse, so far the next post is gonna be on the Romance Dawn trio so it'll be about them from the start up until just before Syrup village. Let's see how many arcs I can get through.

[themetalhiro]

COMMISSIONS OPEN!!!

If you want one, or are just interested in an estimate, fill out this form ! First come first serve, ill draw literally anything so dont be afraid to ask.

Commission examples below!

G5 luffy commissioned by @betweentimeand42

buggy fankids commissioned by @hyperfreaksating

[rahuratna]

JJK: Encounters across the animeverse

Part 1: Na Nami Nami

Happy birthday to Nanami and Nami!!

This is crack. I have no adequate explanation.

Nanami had a feeling about today.

The strange vortexes he'd been hearing about had not yet made an appearance on any of his own missions. Gojo and Itadori had been together when one such anomaly struck. They'd been investigating a large and seemingly dangerous spike in cursed energy, when they had been caught in an unnaturally strong electric storm.

The vortex (portal, whatever that swirling maelstrom had birthed) had opened before their eyes and ejected a ... person. If that's what it could be called. The person in question was a very tall skeleton wearing a feather boa, a top hat and had been in possession of an afro-style hairdo.

This very strange individual had taken one look at Gojo, complimented his beautiful blue eyes and asked to 'see his panties'. Needless to say, Yuuji had been telling the story for days on end, crying with laughter every time, and Gojo had been looking quite sulky. Nanami secretly wished he could have been present for that.

The skeleton had introduced itself to Itadori and Gojo as 'Brook, the musician' and proceeded to play them a series of beautifully rendered musical pieces. Nanami was, once again, slightly jealous. All he encountered on mission were cursed spirits who tried to eat him. Why couldn't he ever come across a flashy skeleton with musical talent and an afro?

The most pressing question of all had not been answered, though. What exactly was Brook? He had given Itadori and Gojo the impression of being in possession of some power and skill, enough to keep them on guard. But all he'd done was play them a couple of songs and then, when the portal had reappeared, he'd lifted his top hat, blown Gojo a kiss and disappeared.

In light of these events, Nanami was ready. If any portal opened up near him on one of his missions, he was certain to investigate it thoroughly. Not that he was longing for something like that. No, not at all. He wasn't the kind of sorcerer who looked to spice up their missions with the mysterious or unexplained. Nothing exciting to see here, for anyone who cared to look at the increasingly long list of monotonous slog work he had to get through ...

Straightening his coat, Nanami sighed and picked up the pace. He had a possible exorcism in a meat packing facility to get through. Oh joy. Nothing like bringing home the bacon. 

The facility in question was in the industrial zone just outside Shibuya. Surrounded as the building was by many other such plants, Jujutsu Tech had made full use of their contacts within the police department to clear out the area and make sure that no employees were on the premises. Nanami entered through the cordoned-off front doors and made his way carefully through the lower floor. If his information was correct, the higher grade spirits had installed themselves on the upper floor.

Somewhere outside the facility, thunder rumbled. As he made his way carefully up the staircase, Nanami began to feel an eerie sensation. It was the feeling he had grown to associate over the years with a spike in cursed energy, but this was somewhat different. This felt ... off. He could sense the proximity of the cursed spirits on the floor above, and something else.

There was a sudden commotion on the floor above. Something had alerted the spirits to his presence, perhaps, because their energy signatures were going haywire. He could hear their aggressive ghoulish shrieks echoing down to where he stood on the stairs. And ... was that ... a woman screaming?

Without warning, a loud electric clap of noise sounded from close by. The clean smell of burning ozone told Nanami that this was no longer a safe area to be. Something about the similarity to Gojo and Itadori's encounter was keeping him in position, however. Would he also be encountering something ... strange today?

Swearing under his breath and taking the stairs three at a time, Nanami prepared himself for battle, his sword drawn and at the ready.

What was going on? Hadn't the facility been cleared before he'd arrived? Had someone been missed?

Of all the strong, brave and capable members of the Straw Hat crew, it had to happen to her. Not that Nami didn't think of herself as capable, she was just ... capable in a less overt, more sneaky sort of way.

The first of their crew to experience it had been Brook. He had been playing a lazy afternoon refrain for them, after one of Sanji's sterling suppers, when the freak storm had come lashing by and sucked him right into what looked like a portal of some kind. Nami hadn't thought too much of the storm, initially. Such strange weather phenomena were common occurrences on the Grand Line. But the portal had been ... new. She'd certainly never seen anything like that before.

They had all been frantic after losing Brook, but he'd reappeared, unharmed, after a few hours from a similar portal, waxing lyrical about a 'blue eyed beauty who could outmatch the dawn'.

Sanji had been horribly jealous, but the rest of the crew were just relieved that their musician was back intact.

The monster shuffled past, and she had just breathed a sigh of relief when the boxes were swept away by a powerful blow. Nami screamed and moved in the same instant. Her cat burglar reflexes were probably the only thing that had saved her from being beheaded. Knees shaking slightly, she looked up from where her quick somersault had taken her, locking gazes with what looked like some kind of praying mantis monstrosity, its rolling eyes following her with predatory intent.

And now, this. And boy, was Nami's luck just enviable. Unlike Brook's idyllic little jaunt with a pair of pretty blue eyes, she was in some kind of dingy building being hunted by creepy monsters.

Monsters? Nami didn't know if that's what they really were. All she knew was that she had to control her breathing really carefully, because right now, one was walking right by her hiding place, it's horrifying, gargling whispers about 'canned beans on toast' reaching her from where she crouched behind some boxes.

Nami felt real fear begin to take hold of her. This was no game. This thing was trying to kill her. And it didn't look like any of her skill with words and sleight of hand would do her any good here. Reaching for her belt, she slowly drew her Climatact. She wasn't sure how it would function here, but she could at least manage a small distraction. Readying herself for flight, Nami was about to try something, anything, when he arrived.

The only warning she had was the tap of heavy footsteps behind her, a rushing sound as he passed right over her head and the powerful wave of energy that coursed from the weapon he held as he brought it down on the praying mantis creature's head. There was a horrific squelching noise as the monster split apart down the middle, purplish liquid pouring from the gaping wound that bisected it.

The man stepped back, flicking his blade with a quick, neat motion, cleaning it of excess blood. Something about the motion, as well as the height and power of the man, reminded her a little of Zoro. He turned to her, and she saw a stern, angular face, neatly combed blonde hair and eyes hidden behind a strange pair of shaded glasses. She wondered briefly how they stayed on his nose.

"Are you all right?"

His voice was deep, reassuring and melodic. Nami felt more at ease immediately, but her experience with all manner of scoundrels on the high seas kept her on guard. For now, she'd keep up the 'damsel in distress' act.

"I - I'm fine, I suppose. Thank you! And ... what exactly is that monster?"

He eyed her in silence, and she wished he would take the glasses off. His expression was unreadable. Finally, he sniffed and turned away, his voice carrying to her over his shoulder.

"Those are cursed spirits. Not everyone can see them."

Scrambling to her feet, Nami followed him. She had enough sense to know her ticket out of this place when she met it.

"Cursed ... spirits?"

"They infest places like this. And it is my job to ensure that they are removed."

"So ... you're some kind of battle priest?"

The man coughed slightly.

"Hm. Not quite. But before we go further, I must insist that the formalities are dispensed with."

"What do you mean?"

To Nami's surprise, the man stopped and bowed before her.

"Nanami Kento. Grade one jujutsu sorcerer. And you are?"

"A ... sorcerer? And did you say ... Nanami?"

"Ha." Nami scratched her cheek and stuck out her tongue. "Well, I'm Nami. Just Nami. Navigator of the ... well. I'm a map-maker by trade."

"Yes?"

One of Nanami's thin eyebrows raised almost to his hairline.

"I prefer to refer to people by their family name until I am better acquainted with them."

"Oh. Well, I don't have one of those."

He regarded her in inscrutable silence once more before turning on his heel.

"Nami it is, then. Did you say you were a ... map-maker?"

"One of the best! I'm documenting the high seas. I've already mapped most of East Blue. Once I get back to the Grand Line, I'll continue my work."

The silence from Nanami was growing heavier and Nami began to feel a tad nervous. Was this man affiliated with one of their enemies? She'd certainly never seen any wanted posters with his picture or description on them before.

"Grand Line? East Blue? I've never heard of these places."

The feeling of uneasiness was growing stronger by the minute. Nami's tone became a little more defensive.

"What do you mean? Everyone knows about the four oceans and the Grand Line. Have you been living under a rock?"

"Not quite. If I'm right ... hmm. Do you by any chance, know of a skeleton with an afro who can sing?"

Nami's brow cleared immediately. So that was it. The portal had sent her to the very place Brook had arrived at before. Someplace very far from home, if this man hadn't even heard of the oceans. All the same, she had to tread carefully.

"Haha. Are you making jokes at a time like this? A skeleton with an afro? I think you'd better lay off the strong liquor, sweetie."

"Please refer to me as Nanami. And I don't drink when I'm on the clock."

Wow. No sense of humor at all. And this man couldn't be charmed, as she was learning. Changing tack, Nami slid a little closer to his side.

"Fine. I just want to get out of here. So I think I'll stick with you for now, just in case something ... else shows up."

"Something else will show up."

"How do you know?"

"Cursed spirits, like the one we just encountered, will attract others of the same kind."

"Oh. Ew."

"And you'd best be prepared. Maybe get your cursed tool ready."

"My ... what?"

He glanced at her sideways and she caught a glimpse of very, very shrewd brown eyes behind the shaded lenses.

"The one you have on your belt. You were about to defend yourself against the spirit right before I arrived. I assume it's useful for more than pole vaulting, yes?"

"Uh ... well. Yes, you're right. It is my weapon. But I'm just a map-maker, as I've said. I only have basic self defense skills. If it's okay with you, I'll just ... stay right here behind you and - "

"Self defense? Did you learn how to evade attacks like that with such basic lessons?"

Nami gritted her teeth. This guy was no sucker. Not at all. No sirree.

"Fine. I've got your back."

"Oh, that gives me a lot of confidence."

"I don't like your tone, Mister."

"Forgive me for not finding you reliable."

"And why wouldn't you find me reliable?"

"Could you give my wallet back? My credit cards are in there and I don't want to go to the bank to apply for new ones."

Huffing in increasing annoyance, Nami slapped the wallet into his outstretched palm.

"I just wanted to confirm your identity."

"Is that why my cash for lunch is missing?"

"Oh, fine! Here. It's not like I can use this currency where I'm going anyway."

"And where would you be going?"

"Back to - "

Nami stopped short, realizing her error. This sly, sly dog of a man. He was now eyeing her in what could only be amusement.

"You seem awfully sure that you'll be back where you came from soon. Tell me, young lady, do you really not know of any skeleton with an afro?"

"No!"

The man called Nanami was, unfortunately, correct in his prediction of more cursed spirits being present.  Nami soon realised that he wielded some kind of technique that allowed his blunt blade to do devastating damage. He'd explained about the ratios to her, for some reason. She wasn't sure why he'd reveal information like that so openly to someone he didn't know, and in front of the monsters no less, but she assumed that he had his reasons.

She did her best to stay in the background, but he wasn't having it. It wasn't that he put her in any danger. He just seemed to be expecting her to play her part, something Nami wasn't very accustomed to. She worked better from the shadows! She was a cat burglar for a reason! But desperate times called for desperate measures, she supposed.

While she couldn't deal much physical damage, Nami did what she did best. Run away. The creatures infesting the building homed in on her as a soft target each time, and while she wheeled, dodged, somersaulted and made full use of her speed and flexibility to dance around their attacks, Nanami followed like a steadfast, cleaving thresher, slicing his way with deadly precision through every spirit in his path.

When Nanami found himself in a rather tight spot, surrounded by spirits, she used her Climatact to create opposing fields of hot and cold air within the small room. The spirits were not paying her much attention at that moment, and so, did not feel the hair-raising change in the atmosphere. Nanami did. He looked her way briefly, before nodding.

The dark clouds that had collected within the small space gave up their electric burden, a swing of Nami's staff bringing down a controlled bolt of lightning right into their midst. Screaming and clawing their way to safety, the spirit's bodies burned and dissipated under the onslaught. Nanami, in the meantime, had dived to the side of the room, dispatching any spirits that escaped with deft sweeps of his blade.

He stood, performing the quick swipe of his sword that she was becoming familiar with.

"That should take care of the issue."

"Wait, what?"

"I don't sense any further spirits in the vicinity. We've taken care of them."

"You mean ... we've done it? We cleared out all the monsters? Just us?"

"Yes. Thank you for your assistance."

" ... oh."

Breathing hard, her stomach still tied in anxious knots from the numerous narrow escapes she'd had, Nami felt a growing sense of ... elation. Those monsters had been tough and she'd helped take them down without any of the other Straw Hats present!

Raising her Climatact in the air, she uttered a short cheer.

"Yay for Team Na Nami Nami!"

"Excuse me?"

She pointed between the both of them.

"Nanami. Nami. Nanaminami. Na. Nami. Nami."

"I - what?"

"What? Oh come on. Even you have to admit it. It's catchy, right?"

He gave a long suffering sigh before pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Let's just ... find the exit. It's well past lunch time and I need a coffee."

"You're paying for my food right?"

"I suppose."

"I want something nice. Don't be a cheapskate, now, not after all the help I gave you!"

"What's your definition of nice?"

"Hmm, five courses at least. With drinks and dessert. And if they have a bar, I want in on that. Oh, hey, what kind of fashion are the women around here into?"

Nanami was very glad that his monthly salary would be paid soon. First, there had been the issue of her attire. The girl, Nami, was dressed for the beach, in a green bikini top and jeans. Nanami was now beginning to feel envious of the people who were coming through the portal. Judging from her talk of seas and map-making, the place she hailed from was obviously near the ocean.

Once they exited the facility, the young woman  looked around her with interest. She twirled a strand of her flaming orange hair around one finger, a gesture she seemed to perform when she was about to ask for something. Just seeing it made him feel like a stomach ulcer was coming on.

"Well, this place looks sort of run down. Where are all the nice shops and the restaurants?"

"Not far from here, actually. But first, here."

He handed her his coat which she took, glancing at him curiously.

"We aren't close to the seaside. You may stand out dressed like that."

"Oh. All right then."

She shrugged and pulled on the coat, folding up the sleeves and tucking it into her jeans to form some kind of oversized fashion statement.

"Hmm. You've got good taste in clothes, at least." She wrinkled her nose. "But that tie of yours. Gross."

"It's not gross."

"Please. You look like an understated version of Trafalgar Law."

"Who?"

"Some guy who loves animal print. Yours looks like ... what animal print is that? A cow?"

"It's a random design," he countered stiffly. "Now please let's go. I'd like to eat soon."

Then, there was the question of her appetite. Nami could really pack away the food. He'd taken her to a simple cafe in the nearby area, despite her protests and demands for compensation with five-star dining. She settled down soon enough with a steaming cup of coffee and some pastries in front of her. Nanami also bought some sandwiches and a hot soup to keep things healthy. The facility they had cleared out had been rather frigid, and he would rather she didn't develop a chill.

"You said that you draw maps, correct?"

Nami nodded before scarfing down another pastry.

"One of the best. Here."

She slipped a piece of what looked like parchment from her pocket and slapped it down on the table.

"Take a look at that. Finest penmanship and accuracy this side of the four seas."

Namami looked over the small fragment. Granted, he wasn't familiar with the finer aspects of map-making, but the attention to detail and finesse certainly didn't escape his attention.

"And you're in this ... map-making endeavour alone?"

"Oh no."

Nanami could tell, from the way her expression immediately brightened and took on a softer cast, that she was telling the truth.

"I'm part of a crew. We're ... very close. We have each other's backs. They're all very strong and talented. Kind of like you."

"And the skeleton?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes.

"All right, fine. That's Brook. The ship's musician."

"Interesting. And how does he - "

"Don't ask. Please."

"Very well. But, pardon my curiosity, does he play - "

"Yes, he plays the electric guitar. They call him 'Soul King' Brook."

"Fascinating."

He took her back to the facility when they had finished their meal. It had been roughly three hours, approximately the same amount of time that 'Soul King' Brook had spent in their world before the portal had re-opened.

Already, Nanami was feeling that strange sense of otherness, that hair-raising energy on the air that had heralded Navigator Nami's appearance. Soon enough, the storm that brought the inter-dimensional gate had made an appearance, the disturbance in space-time creating a warping effect that left one feeling a little queasy if they looked for too long.

Nami hopped fearlessly towards the portal and Nanami almost stopped her. How did she know that it was safe? How did she know for sure that it would take her back to her place of origin?

As if sensing his worries, the girl with bright orange hair winked and tapped the side of her nose.

"Are you stressing yourself out again, old man?"

"That's Nanami to you."

Her expression turned serious for a minute, taking him in.

"You should worry less, you know. Our Captain never cares about what tomorrow brings. I guess some people see that as reckless. Maybe even irresponsible. But I've spent enough time with him to understand a little better."

"Understand what?"

"Your dreams won't wait for you. Don't waste your life being ... cautious. Here."

She produced the fragment of map from her pocket once again.

"Keep this. Maybe one day, you'll find yourself on the Grand Line. And if you do, come look for the Straw Hat Pirates."

" ... pirates?"

But she was already halfway through the portal, her hair billowing in the energy stream.

"And thanks for the compensation! I'll keep this as a souvenir!"

Tongue out in her signature mischievous pose, Nami was holding something up between two fingers.

His wallet.

Clapping a hand to his pocket, Nanami sighed when he realised she had at least been thoughtful enough to leave his credit cards behind.

[holyfandango]

across the spidervers there's an earth-1piece with it's own spider-nami

[fiery-cook]

Half man Half Lizard (Dinosaur)

100% naughty 🦎

[jigensass]

Anddd added to the collection.

[kusatta]

" how is it you get into these situations so often, ahmya ?" / @sozokami.

[lupaeusmoved]

⸺  𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗟𝗘𝗦'  𝗦���𝗜𝗙𝗙𝗟𝗘𝗦  𝗥𝗘𝗚𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥  𝗢𝗡𝗟𝗬  𝗔𝗕𝗢𝗨𝗧  halfway  through  his  time  in  the  bathroom  .  at  first  she  worries  ,  wondering  what  could  have  upset  him  so  badly  that  he  feels  the  need  to  hide  it  from  her  .  is  the  cat  okay  ?  is  STILES  okay  ?  she's  just  about  to  call  out  and  check  on  him  when  at  last  the  bathroom  door  opens  .  sleep  has  all  but  faded  from  her  mind  as  emma  sits  up  ,  watching  him  rush  to  the  kitchen  and  hearing  the  water  being  poured  .  only  once  he  speaks  do  the  puzzle  pieces  begin  to  fit  into  place  .

❝  baby  .  .  .  ❞  she  rises  from  the  couch  ,  following  stiles  into  the  kitchen  and  tapping  away  on  her  phone  until  a  chime  notifies  her  that  her  order  has  been  put  in  .  ❝  claritin  and  benadryl  are  on  their  way  ,  you idiot  ,  ❞  she  chides  affectionately  ,  pulling  a  paper  towel  to  run  beneath  the  stream  of  cold  water  and  wring  out  before  dabbing  at  her  husband's  eyes  .  ❝  how  the  fuck  have  you  managed  to  keep  this  one  from  me  ,  hmm  ?  all  the  cats  you've  watched  me  pick  up  over the years and  you  never  wanted  to  let  me  know  i  was  basically  holding  a  weapon  every  time  ?  what  are  we  going  to  do  ?  ❞

Stiles took his time in the bathroom, ignoring Emma's comments as he set the little kitten down, and wrangled with it for a little while until the collar was on safe and secure. And then he just stayed in there for a little longer to make sure the kitten felt safe in its new environment. By the time he finally left the bathroom, he was a mess of sniffles and red eyes, but not because he'd been crying. He cleared his throat though, and did his best to hide it, heading into the kitchen for a glass of water for his itchy throat. "I think he'll be okay until morning." He called out to Emma, revealing the gender of their mysterious new kitten

[darqx]

If you didnt come to party [get the hell out of this club]

In which there's some links to old art - I've been getting a number of asks that are already technically answered so that's just what I'm gonna be doing if i can even remember what RAD they originally came from lol.

❗️For commonly asked qs please see my BTD FAQ

UNFORGIVEN.

Yes he can speak at least two demon languages (commons and a more specialised one).

Not really cos the ichor will eventually disappear if it's not in contact with Rire for a while lol. You ever wonder how someone could mysteriously drown whilst not being around anything they could have drowned in? Yeah.

I have drawn several such instances a long time ago. But it's not really Rire flirting with Ren it's more him being like...subtly condescending to Ren since Ren's submissive level is not very interesting to him |D

I...think you may have possibly mistaken me saying Rire might cry if he was in severe pain to mean that's the only time he could cry XD; To answer your q, yes Rire can cry from emotions - the point is he would choose not to (esp in public) as that would be a weakness.

🤔 You could probably get away with the same dress design but in black, tbh (if it was Lady Rire). Since the outfit design is 1930s/1940s based Rire's equivalent would be like...a 3 piece suit with a long overcoat/trench coat.

Got you covered bro [from a suit meme I did before]

Rire has a very long life span, but he's not immortal XD;

Tbh I don't really have thoughts about any of other peoples headcanons. Like I'm generally quite neutral towards headcanons because I primarily deal with the canon; the extent of my thoughts would be like "hm i wonder how they came up with that" lol.

This is actually in my FAQ :d but good of you to check for permission! If it's your own artwork then yes it is ok to make fanmerch of Rire. Similarly Gato allows fanmerch of her BTD and TPOF characs as long as it's your own art you are selling (and not like, our art/someone else's fanart that they didn't give permission to turn into merch).

It would be in Cain's best interest not to.

Cain is literally saying Olé Olé because i happened to be listening to this song at the time.

I can barely keep up with my ask box as myself let alone do it while pretending to be a charac lol, so no 😅 You can find a bunch of the most common qs in the FAQ pages though.

No and not really - though he is a bit more sensitive to light compared to a human as he has much better night vision than a human. He may also be able to see more colours than humans 🤔

There is technically no "stereotypical" demon in my 'verse, there's a bunch of different species each with their own looks/powers, so if he was another species then he'd have their physical characteristics. Rire's species is considered "plain" because outwardly they can pass more easily as a human than say; Izm's species (who have a really noticeable Glasgow smile-esque mouth as one of their physical features).

Yes he was born a demon...to his demon parents...|D;

He's the king of his sector and his sector is pretty well-to-do, I think you can draw your own conclusions from that lol.

Maybe, depends on what the human in question does with that.

Your second q has two answers depending on what context I answer them in, so I'll reply in the BTD context keeping in mind a charac like EP's Cain :d Basically yes Rire would be able to sense them like he does other demons. It's not a specific sense of "THIS CHARAC IS AN ANGEL" but more like "this charac is not human" and depending on what else he gets from it a "in your best interests to not engage".

Something big with long black fur and yellow eyes, maybe like a Norwegian Forest Cat or a Maine Coon.

[verbenaa]

air so deep and sweet

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: “You’re just utterly shameless, aren’t you?’ He tsks, “Seducing me away from my work like this.”

Astarion’s eyes rove your form laying beneath him in reverence, the silken strands of your hair spread like a halo around your face and your dress a mess around your waist.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: Astarion/Reader 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: smut, fluff, slice of life! 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 7.1k 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: body worship, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, hand jobs, vampire bites, mentions/discussions of anal, vaginal sex, vampire sex, soft dom astarion

MDNI, 18+ CONTENT

𝑎/𝑛: This is my first ever fanfiction despite a literal 20 years of reading them LOL i truly have lost the plot. Find me on ao3 too, my username is leadii 💕

ao3 here

masterlist

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Dim candlelight plays along the walls of Astarion’s studio, illuminating the discarded bolts of fabric leaning against the wall with haphazard grace, the threads of linens, silks, and cottons a riot of color against the muted walls. Spools of silken thread and tangles of ribbon lay sprawling across the work table, interspersed with pincushions and stray needles waiting to be threaded.

The studio itself is small, humble in its nature. Set aside on a small street within the city walls it wasn’t a far walk from your shared home, making it an easy decision to join him on the nights he decided to work.

Lush velvet draperies hang heavily across several leaded windows, while multicolored rugs layered themselves over the floor. Fat pillars of candle wax sit haphazardly upon several surfaces, filling the room with moving pockets of light, their dance helped along by the light summer breeze blowing through the open windows. It was undeniably one of your favorite places to be.

Despite Astarion’s initial claims to the contrary (if you could even call his half-hearted condescension to the concept such a thing), he was decidedly well suited for a life of domesticity. Much like a spoiled cat, he very much enjoyed his luxuries. Vials of scented oils, a soft bed covered with blankets and quilts, piles of books in the corners of rooms waiting to be read at his decision. You were very quick to learn that Astarion was nothing if not a creature of comfort. And he made it so very easy to spoil him, accepting your love and affection with open arms.

You nestle deeper into the nest of pillows that made up the corner you had decided to call your own, novel discarded beside you and your goblet of wine long emptied of its contents resting against the floorboards. With a small huff your attention turns from your surroundings to said owner of the studio, watching him weave the needle in and out of the fabric in his hands, focus intent on his art.

He had such beautiful hands, you couldn’t help but think. Hands as well-versed in sowing chaos as easily as they could thread a needle to create the tiniest of embellishments upon a single piece of silk. Hands as intimately versed in the art of death as they were in the art of drawing pleasure. Sometimes, you think, he is secretly desperate to prove that his hands no longer have to steal, cheat, or seduce for others and instead were capable to creating something soft and vulnerable for himself instead.

With a small stretch you sit yourself upright, adjusting the lovingly embroidered straps of the light linen dress you wore to compensate for the overbearing warmth of summer. You were always content to accept any creation Astarion made for you and your dress was no exception, tailored to perfection to sit on your curves perfectly with small decorations of lace and embroidery as he saw fit.

As though drawn by your thoughts, his carmine gaze glances up to meet your own. Astarion’s eyes linger upon your form as you slowly stand and stretch your arms high above your head, back arching slightly with the motion before you step to the nearest open window. A light breeze ruffles your hair as you rest your elbows on the sill, careful of the several plants currently residing there as your eyes move to watch the people below weave through the streets in the darkness.

“Dearest, do you mind lending me those ever-so-lovely eyes of yours for a moment?” His voice is a casual drawl. “I wish to seek your opinion on this particular color scheme.” 

You turn to face him from your spot at the window as he gestures to the work in his hand with a small movement of his wrist, and quickly step across the floor to stop at his side. You glance down to see the wooden embroidery hoop he holds with measured regard in one hand, the other carefully grasping a small, sharp needle. You lean in slightly to see better, your breasts adding the barest of pressure against his arm.

You focus your vision upon the delicate pattern of his needlework, the threads weaving together to create an intricate pattern of scrolling vines and abundant spring blossoms in a warm milky white adorning the collar of a cream colored linen shirt, the colors almost ethereal together in their similarity. 

“I hate to break this to you, but…I do believe it is simply cream upon cream,” you say with a small smile gracing your lips. “What ever is there for me to even give my opinion on?” 

“It’s called monochrome, my dear.” Astarion gives you a look of affectionate exasperation before continuing, “Despite what everyone seems to think, I am capable of subtlety when the occasion permits.” You briefly turn to look at him, an elegant eyebrow arching in amusement. 

He rolls his eyes and scoffs slightly before murmuring, “Certainly those pretty eyes of yours can see the differences despite the similarity of color?”

Sure enough, upon further inspection you could pick out the slightest hint of metallic gold threaded throughout the creamy colored delicate flowers and surrounding vines, the only detail differentiating the colors from one another. The subtle shine of the golden threads were mesmerizing to follow with your eyes, the candlelight bouncing off of them creating fiery highlights on the raised embroidery. Like everything Astarion touched, it was undeniably beautiful.

“I suppose it looks decent.” You tease, pressing your chest further into his arm while your attention shifts to the elegant planes of his face. He was simply so easy to admire, the way his hair always seemed to fall so perfectly into place, his mouth held soft in concentration looked so inviting.

A noise of protest leaves his lips at the mere thought his creation was only ‘decent’, and you can’t help but laugh at the reaction while leaning in to press a soft kiss to his pale cheek.

“It must be so hard to have such artistic merit, Astarion. I’m afraid such a talentless individual as myself can’t fully appreciate such craft and workmanship.” You playfully lean your body back and throw a hand up your forehead in mock distress, earning a short laugh from him. 

“Despite such questionable opinions, you are far my talentless, my dear.” Astarion sets aside the hoop and needle to the far edge of the worktable and turns in his chair, settling his full attention on you.

“In fact, I would be more than willing to remind you of the several of the talents you possess.”

Slowly, he draws his eyes from your features to glance down at the twin pinprick scars decorating your neck before slowly continuing lower to finally rest on a spot above your breasts. He brings his fingertips to brush lightly against the skin, pressing against the delicate lace trim of the neckline, sweeping slowly and softly back and forth against the swells. He watches the sudden intake of your breath with interest before his eyes glide up to meet your own again. 

A slow, feline smile graces his lips. “Such a distraction, dearest. Especially when you press these lovely breasts of yours into me.” 

You match his smile with a sly one of your own.

“Can you blame me?” You give a half-hearted shrug, hardly caring that you had been caught in your so-called crime. “It’s quite hard to not want to be close to such a beautiful individual like yourself.”

“Ah yes, there it is. Talent number one: flattery.” 

He moves the hand tracing patterns against your skin upward, glancing touches against your neck, before curling his fingers underneath your chin to bring your face closer to his own. 

You knew he could easily see the effects of his relatively innocent ministrations, could view the inevitable pink beginning to decorate your cheeks. 

Could smell it in the blood beginning to race through your veins. 

Astarion had always known exactly what to say made you breathless and had never held back on using that knowledge to his advantage to make you weak to his whims. 

“Now be a good girl and take a seat.” His voice is low, hungry; he leans forward and both his hands find your waist and pull. 

You feel your body relax easily into his touch, letting him smooth your skirts out of the way as he brings you towards his waiting lap. Your hips instantly connect together, fabric the only barrier between you. You feel a telltale twitch beneath you, signaling his pleasure at the slight friction created by the connection and your hips grind against his own instinctually, the friction and pressure adding to the growing warmth deep in your belly. 

Astarion leans forward, connecting his mouth with your own in a scalding kiss, moaning into your mouth as his hips roll against your own, his growing erection pressing closer to your covered center. 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull yourself even closer to him as your hands card through the silver curls sitting at the back of his neck. Opening your mouth, you lick against his lips hoping he will open them for you. Astarion obliges, meeting your tongue halfway. 

Your tongue brushes against a sensitive fang, drawing another moan out of him and he slowly pulls away from the kiss, lightly nipping at your bottom lip as he leaves before moving to press small, sweet kisses across your jaw. 

“Would you indulge me a snack, dearest?” He presses a quick kiss followed by a small lick to the skin behind your ear, sending a shiver of pleasure down your skin.

“I suppose I could be convinced…” Breathy sighs fall from your lips as he peppers kisses down the elegant column of your neck. “Quite easily perhaps, too.”

“Will you give me a small taste, my dear?” he mouths the words against your skin, lips hot.

Your eyes fall closed at his kisses. “You know you don’t even have to ask to have my blood. I give it to you, freely, and I always will.” With a tilt of your head you grant him more access to continue his search.

“I don’t deserve you.” “Absolutely false. You deserve everything.” The words roll off your tongue with quick ease, certain you’ve never spoken truer words.

As Astarion moves the straps of your dress aside to hang off your shoulders and free the expanse of your neck and collar he finds the spot he had been looking for, laving the area with his tongue briefly before he bites down.

A split second of burning heat as his fangs dig into the flesh of your neck with as much delicacy as he can manage before he finally begins to suck, the pull of the blood leaving your body as he drinks brings a decidedly indecent moan to your lips, the heat of your core growing wetter with every draw of his mouth.

As Astarion drinks in your lifeblood in slow gulps, you feel his hands moving to the neckline of your dress and he grabs at it, pulling the fabric down across your chest, exposing more and more of you with every pull of the fabric. You had forgone a corset today in an attempt at comfort in an unending battle against humidity, trusting the bodice of your dress to instead keep your (somewhat questionable) modesty in tact. 

The rush of cold air combined with the sudden brush of his chilled hands against your breasts as he lets the dress fall to hang freely around your waist draws a surprised gasp from your lips. You move your arms out of the straps before burying them again in his silver locks.

He quickly brings a free hand up to grasp a breast, brushing his thumb over a newly hardened nipple. Extricating his fangs from your neck, his tongue moves to lick up the blood tracing down from the wound, not letting a single drop go to waste.  

“Such a delightful little treat,” he murmurs against your skin, lips brushing with every movement as your hips grind downward against his growing erection in slow rolls. 

His lips move further down your chest, no longer following the trail of fresh blood but that of the blood in your veins leading to your heart. 

Astarion presses a chaste kiss over the place where your heart beats, your back arching with the movement of his lips as he moves lower to capture a hardened peak. A soft cry at the touch of his mouth falls from your lips, the motion of his tongue drawing circles around the bud sending a flash of heat straight to your core. 

He laves at the bud, alternating licks and soft bites in a bid to stoke the fire inside you even higher, his free hand coming up to massage its twin with delicate motions.

Astarion cants his hips up into yours as he sucks hard at your breast, his prominent erection pressing into your growing wetness before his mouth moves to your other breast, continuing his ministrations.

“Astarion, please, I need more.” You whine, attempting to press harder against his erection in hopes the touch will grant a reprieve from the building heat between your thighs.

“As you wish, my love.” He grants your request with a whisper, his hands falling on your thighs to support you as he moves to stand, bringing you with him. Chair pushing back with the movement, he places you on the desk in front of him as his hips spread your thighs. 

Desperate to keep the connection between the two of your bodies, Astarion stands between your legs, pressing close. His hands skate up your body to land on your cheeks, tilting your face to look up at his own as a thumb brushes absentmindedly against your bottom lip. He leans down to press his lips to your forehead, your eyes, cheeks, nose, and finally your lips. 

“Lay back, love,” His words are a whisper as one hand makes it way from your cheek to rest on the back of your head. “It’s alright, I’ve got you.”

His eyes never leave your own as your body relaxes, trusting him, and he leans you back onto the tabletop with care until your body meets the wood. 

Barely breathing, you watch as his hands made their way teasingly downwards, skating over your bared breasts to find the skirt of your dress, moving to push the thin fabric tantalizingly up your thighs to settle around your waist and out of the way. Astarion’s eyes settle upon a tiny, lacy pair of panties, the fabric the only thing keeping you from being completely bared to him. 

“You’re just utterly shameless, aren’t you?’ He tsks, “Seducing me away from my work like this.” Astarion’s eyes rove your form laying beneath him in reverence, the silken strands of your hair spread like a halo around your face and your dress a mess around your waist.

He was so beautiful it made your heart feel like it was going to beat out of your chest. 

With bated breath, you raise a hand to draw your fingers softly over his cheek, capturing his attention. 

“Promise me that you will tell me if this gets to be too much for you,” Your eyes meet his as you watch his expression fill with sudden affection at your request. 

“What a sweet thing you are,” Astarion brings a hand to cover the one you had placed over his cheek. “Thank you for always taking care of me so.” With a small movement, he turns his head to bring his lips to press against your palm. 

“I promise you that anything and everything I do with you is my choice.” Astarion moves the hand that covers yours to flit down your body, teasing touches over your peaked nipples, down your belly, before brushing against the line of your underwear. A sudden intake of breath escapes your lungs as he watches your stomach jump with the touch. 

A smirk graces his face as he moves those same fingers lower, brushing lightly against the gusset of your underwear before pressing harder against the growing damp of the lace. His touch creates a sweet friction, your wetness mixed with the texture of the lace and the pressure of his fingers drawing a soft moan from you.

You whine as his fingers pull your underwear to the side, Astarion moving to slide his fingertips up and down your exposed slit, spreading your wetness. He makes teasing passes around the small pearl that rests above; close but never quite touching where you need him, your arousal aiding the smooth glide of his motions.

“I’ve barely touched you and you’re already this wet for me, darling?”

“You know I always aim to please.”  The words are hard won but you manage to  give him a haughty smile nonetheless, trying to maintain the last shred of willpower you have left to pretend to be unaffected.

He moves to pump a finger shallowly inside you, not nearly deep enough to provide any relief. You gasp at feeling, attempting to roll your hips in hopes to bring his finger deeper. But just as quickly as he enters he leaves, eliciting a noise of frustration from you.

“Patience, patience.” He tuts, hands moving to your hips to tug at the lace resting over them. He yanks at the fabric, and you raise you bottom to aid him in finally removing them. Astarion pockets the pair with a smug look as his hands move to spread your thighs further apart.

With every push of your thighs Astarion bares you to him, your arousal glistening against your center in the low light.

“You know, dearest, I think I would maybe like to have a taste of something else as well.” You feel your cunt clench at the prospect, adding to the building heat deep inside you. 

“Consider me at your mercy, then.” A smirk from him at your blessing as he slowly lowers himself to his knees before your spread legs.

Astarion is supplicant before you as he rests his head on your upper thigh, unfairly close to where you want him most. Your hips jump in anticipation as he begins pressing tantalizingly soft kisses into the crease where your hip meets your thigh.

You feel his fingers touch you finally, delicately spreading your folds as he watches your most intimate place open for him. His thumb comes to rest against your clit, rubbing lightly at the small bud and you release a contented hum at the warmth of the pleasure inside your body growing with the movement of his fingers.

Your eyes fall shut at the sheer relief of his attention, his expertise in knowing exactly how and where to touch to drive you wild drawing a moan from you. Your hand falls from its place in his hair to land beside your head, jostling errant sewing supplies from their resting place next to you.

“Careful, darling. Watch those lovely hands of yours to not catch on a needle. I would so hate for you to bleed so needlessly.” A roguish smile alights his lips as he lowers his mouth to lick a slow stripe up your center, intent to collect as much of your wetness on his tongue as he can.

Your hand immediately finds its way back to his hair, gripping his silver curls mindlessly as he begins to work his tongue up and down your center, tracing patterns against your sex as he goes.

His tongue moves to finally circle your clit with small movements, intent to drive your pleasure higher and higher with every pass. His mouth moves lower, licking across your folds as he finds your entrance, tracing around it with agonizingly slow motions.

Astarion is quick to move a hand to rest over your belly as your hips jut up, applying soft pressure as he grows bold in his motions and his tongue moves to push inside of you. Your grip on his curls grows harder with every thrust of his tongue inside your body, head thrown back and moans growing louder as he brings you closer and closer to completion.

The hand resting on your stomach moves to press lightly at your clit, once again resuming the small circles round and around as his tongue continues its exploration deep in your core, eating you out with fervor. 

Astarion continues to lave inside you, his soft tongue whorling against your walls as his fingers expertly work your clit in tandem with your cries as your hips ride his face, thighs shaking as your orgasm barrels towards you. 

And it’s just like that when you cry out and finally come, his tongue moving deep inside as his finger strums your clit with practiced motions and the feeling is white-hot as you plunge into your ecstasy. He licks up your come greedily, tongue never stopping its endeavor as you ride the wave of your orgasm, breathy cries leaving your lips and hips rolling until your body finally relaxes. 

Shaking in the aftermath of your orgasm, your hand falls from Astarion’s hair to rest over your eyes as your breathing begins to even out and you finally come down from the high, Astarion cleaning up your cum until you can take it no longer, hips jerking in overstimulation away from his mouth.

Astarion places a light kiss over your clit before raising up from his knees back to his full height, your slick glistening on his chin and lips in the light of the candles as his still clothed cock brushes against your empty center.

Astarion leans forward, arms caging your head as he leans down to nuzzle your cheek whispering ardent words, “Out of all the beautiful things in this room, you are by far the most gorgeous.”

His admission momentarily stuns you. Astarion had never been shy in his admirations of your beauty and while you had grown more used to them during your time together he still managed to catch you off guard with such compliments from time to time.

“Can I please touch you? Taste you?” You pant, desperation coloring your words in the wake of his earlier admission as you begin to push yourself up onto your elbows. Astarion’s hand comes down and gently presses on your chest instead, and you lower yourself back down at the gentle command in the gleaming red of his eyes. 

“You can put that clever mouth of yours to use later, my dear. I have other plans for you, I think.” His eye rove your features before pressing his mouth upon yours in a fevered kiss, his tongue licking against your lips asking for entry. You can taste the essence of yourself on his lips and groan at the taste, opening yours to tangle his tongue with your own.

Astarion deepens the kiss as his hands find your own and grasping them gently, he brings them down his body to rest upon his still-clothed cock. 

“You said you wanted to touch. Indulge me, lover.” His lips never leave your own as he speaks the words, tongue sneaking out to lick at your bottom lip.

Your hands spring to action immediately to palm his cock through his leather pants before you find the laces holding him and undo them with deft fingers familiar with the task.

Astarion’s thick cock springs free of the confines of the pants and your fingers find the beads of precum decorating the tip and spread the wetness down his length. your fingers glide from top to bottom in smooth motions over the veined velvet of him, his essence aiding your ministrations as his mouth falls open from the sheer indulgence of your touch. His head falls heavily onto your shoulder and his lips move over the spot he fed from earlier, kissing and licking the area as your hands work him closer to closer to the edge. 

Lifting a hand from him you bring your fingers to your own wetness, drawing your fingertips through your slick before pumping two of them inside yourself in an imitation of his own motions earlier as you moan at the feeling.

Astarion glances down to see your fingers buried in your own cunt, the sight making him go impossibly harder as he watches you briefly pleasure the both of you. With a whine, your fingers leave your body to return to Astarion, a mixture of your arousal and come coating your fingers as your spread it onto his waiting cock, increasing your rhythm to rub him faster.

“Gods Above, you really are something else.” His pupils are blown out in lust as he groans at both the sight and feel of your hands working his shaft, one hand massaging the crown of his cock while the other works him closer to the base in quick motions.

A wicked thought strikes your mind, and you almost feel badly for even entertaining the idea. Almost.

You can feel his breath fanning your neck with every pass of your hands, his moans growing more unrestrained as your ministrations draw him to edge of completion. Without warning you withdraw your hands from his weeping cock, cruelly denying him the climax he was so close to.

Astarion’s head flies up from where it rests on your shoulder as a noise of disbelief leaves his lips and he shoots you a look of pure shock. The knowledge you caught him so unaware has you riding another kind of high, one you rarely had the privilege of reveling in.

“You little minx! Who knew you were capable of such cruelty. You’re going to pay for that, you know.”

Mischief settles on your features. “Maybe that was the goal.”

“Ask and you shall receive, little love. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” His lips curve with a devilish grin, eyes glinting in the candlelight as his hands move to grip your waist, fingertips pressing hard into the soft skin.

“How should I make you pay for it, then?” He muses. “Should I shove my cock into that tight, sweet cunt of yours and fuck you so hard you won’t be able to stand? Or maybe I should make good use of that wicked little mouth of yours and fill it instead?”

His darkening eyes bore into your own, your cheeks heating at his suggestions as you shift under his contemplation.

“You do look quite beautiful like that, you know. Mouth stretched around me as I fuck your throat. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You give an enthusiastic nod at the prospect, excited for whatever punishment he deems appropriate to hand out.

Without warning, you feel the hands upon your waist move to lift you up and flip you over, your stomach making contact with the table as your bare breasts press tight against the wood grain. His hand comes to rest in the center of your back, pushing you further into the surface. You move your head to rest your cheek upon the table, the coolness of the wood a welcome sensation to the quickly rebuilding heat inside you as your eyes glance up to meet his own in curiosity. 

“Too bad. I have another idea instead.” His voice is deep with promise.

Such trouble you had gotten yourself into, it seems. 

Cool hands move from your back to the forgotten skirt of your dress to flip it upward to rest around your waist once more, exposing your ass and glistening center to the warm air. 

Astarion brings his hand down hard against one of your cheeks, the sharpness of the spank making you cry out as surprise and pleasure mingle into one. He rubs the growing red mark left on your skin before bending down to press a his lips to it, soothing the area with barely-there kisses. 

He brings both hands to your ass now, rubbing soothing circles over the area before moving to pull your rear cheeks apart, allowing Astarion to see absolutely everything.

A wave of embarrassment hits you to be put on such display for his vision despite his knowledge of your body, and you fidget slightly under his intent gaze of your most intimate areas. 

“Astarion…” you let out a moan and he is quick to shush you as he moves a hand off your asscheek to brush his thumb in light circles over your asshole. 

“Maybe I should take you here instead, I know how much you love when I play with your pretty ass.” His voice is deep, eyes impossibly dark. 

“Oh fuck,” His words draw a ragged moan from your lips at the mere thought, setting your neglected pussy on fire with need.

“Prove to me you can be a good girl.” His thumb applies soft pressure before it leaves you to be replaced by his lips. He presses a soft kiss to the tight hole before kissing downwards and licking deep into your cunt without warning, lapping at your waiting wetness.

“Gods, Astarion…” your hips press backwards towards his waiting mouth. “Whatever you want, wherever you want, my love. I’ll do anything. I just want you inside of me.” Your voice is hoarse with need, no longer caring to win this little game you had started.

You feel Astarion’s mouth leave your pussy and whine at the loss, but he is quick replace your empty cunt with two of his elegant fingers instead, sliding them in and out at slow, measured pace. 

“Do you think I should let you come one more time before I fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk properly?” You are helpless to do anything other than nod your head in insistence, hoping he won’t rob you of your orgasm the way you had done to him. “I don’t know if you deserve it yet.”

Astarion slowly pulls his fingers out of your body only to add a third finger on the plunge back in, drawing a cry from your lips at the sudden fullness. 

His fingers push deep and curl inside of you pressing against that special spot over and over again, driving you to new heights as the lightest veil of tears begins to dust your lashes at the sheer bliss of the feeling.

Noticing the tears, you feel Astarion immediately stop his ministrations and lean over your back to look into your eyes with concern, a noise of protest at the lack of motion falls from your mouth as his fingers slowly leave your body to rest on your hip, brushing calming circles on your skin.

“Is this too much, love?” Any trace of his teasing dominance is gone from his voice as he speaks the words to you clearly, looking intently for any indication you needed him to step back from the scene the two of you had created. “We can stop, darling, if you need to. I don’t want you to push yourself too far to please me.”

You smile at genuine concern evident on his face, blinking away the sheen of tears. 

Pushing your hips back into him with as much motion as you can manage in your prone position against the table, you lean your body up in hopes to press a kiss to his lips. Astarion leans in, mouth quick to meet you halfway in a kiss as his spare hand moves to cup your cheek.

“The only thing you are pushing is my patience, love. Please don’t stop.” You beg, hoping he will acquiesce to your desire to continue as you lower your body back down onto the table. “The only thing I want in this moment is to come so hard I can’t think straight and then to have that beautiful cock of yours inside of me in whatever way you wish to give it to me.”

“Insatiable. Who taught you such language?” His body follows yours down, back pressing against your own as his lips brush against yours as he speaks the words, the concern leaving his eyes replaced with mounting desire.

“Believe me, there is nothing I want more than to be buried deep inside you,” The hand on your hip makes its way back towards your center. “Make me the same promise I made you earlier.”

The words come to your mouth effortlessly.

“I promise you that anything and everything I do with you is my choice.” You recite the words softly, with ease. 

Quieter now, you whisper. “I trust you, Astarion.”

You know how much your words and trust mean to him, can see it in his unguarded expression. Astarion didn’t put much trust in the Gods, but he would never stop thanking whichever one it was that brought your paths together. His fingers gently graze your pussy, ringing around your entrance with soft, teasing touches.

“I love you.” Astarion says before pressing his lips firmly to your own, those same three fingers finally slipping back inside.

Astarion renews the pace of his fingers right away, pressing and curling with precise motions meant to bring you to the brink.

You give into the sensation of every movement of his fingers, mouth open and eyes falling shut at the feeling and it’s not long before he has you once again close to your orgasm. 

“Please, don’t stop,” you whimper as your thighs begin to shake.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Astarion brings his other hand down your body to brush lightly against your clit. He sounds as lost in desire as you feel. “Want to feel you come on my hand. Can you do that for me, sweet thing?”

His words have you clenching hard on his fingers, the pressure of them against your insides combined with the fingers of his other hand brushing light, concentric circles over your clit have you coming within moments of his request.

“Such a good girl to give me what I want so easily.” You barely hear the words that fall from his lips through the haze of your ongoing orgasm, the feeling of his breath on the skin of your ear serving to only enhancing the moment.

Your body spasms around his fingers and cries of ecstasy fall from your lips as he continues, working you through your orgasm while his lips press soothing kisses anywhere his lips can reach—your face, your neck, the tip of your ear. 

“That’s it. You always look so beautiful when you come for me.”

Slowly, finally you feel your body begin to relax through the haze of your orgasm. Your mind comes back to you and you release a small laugh as your breath starts to even out, feeling him leave your body. Without breaking eye contact, he brings the fingers that had filled you so deeply to his mouth and licks them clean. The sight of it sends a wave of heat right back to your cunt, a shudder of anticipation running through you.

“I think you already succeeded in your wish to make me unable to stand.” You pant.

“And to think I haven’t even fucked you yet.” His cock is hard as his eyes scan your form from the flesh of your core to the flush of your cheeks, your eyes glassy with a haze of lust.

“I think I want to fuck you just like this.” He whispers into your ear as his hands run soothingly over your back. “I like you this, on display as you wait for me.” You desperately attempt to push your hips back to brush against his uncovered cock, looking for any bit of friction.

You watch him from your place on the table, the lithe way his body moves as he takes off his luxurious silk shirt to expose his chest.

His beauty was almost otherworldly as the dancing candlelight illuminates the carved marble of his skin, light and shadow creating a moving chiaroscuro upon the planes of his body.

He looked like a god.

“You are so beautiful.” Your words are a mere whisper as he moves his thick cock to finally brush against your center, slicking himself in your spend as the tip catches against your clit, drawing twin moans from you both.

Grabbing your hips, Astarion positions himself at your entrance and begins to slowly push inside, so familiar with your body he barely needs to guide his cock.

His head drops to press a kiss to your shoulder before righting himself again, hissing in pleasure at the feeling of your walls closing around him as he slides in, your wetness aiding him as he bottoms out and his hips press hard against your own. 

Low moans escape you at the sheer feeling of his cock stretching and sliding home and your hands move grasp for purchase on the desk as he slowly begins to rock back and forth. 

“If only you could see yourself now,” His voice is deep as he watches himself pull his cock out of your body almost completely, only the head left resting shallowly inside you before pushing forward with a hard thrust, hitting a place so deep you let out a ragged cry at the feeling.

“Gods, Astarion, just like that.” He fucks you hard, the force of his thrusts pushing you back and forth with small motions, breasts pressing hard against the wood of the table as one of your hands finds his own still holding your hips. You grab at his wrist in hopes he will take it, needing to touch more of him. Sensing your need Astarion takes your hand, bringing it to his lips to press a soft kiss on the back of it before resting your joined hands on your lower back. 

“No one takes my cock like you,” He pants through his thrusting. “You were made for me, weren’t you?” 

Supplications fall from his lips as he moves in and out of your body, showering you with worship as if you were his own private deity. His words further kindle the rising flame inside your belly, every touch of his cock against your walls serving to push you closer and closer to your third orgasm. 

“Only you,” you pant, hips canting back into his own to match the rhythm of his thrusts. “No one else.”

You feel so incredibly full with your body positioned like this, every movement of his cock has him pressing hard against your sweet spot, the feeling like heaven as cries fall from your lips.

“I love how wet you get for me, darling,” Astarion can feel you tighten around him as you grow nearer to your orgasm, your body trembling and cunt pulsing with pleasure as your hips drive back into his own. The feeling of you so close to your orgasm has hips losing their rhythm, his eagerness at the two of you reaching your end together driving him to move harder with every press inside you.

You love seeing him, feeling him like this. His hips finally moving with wild abandon, chasing pure instinct as he moves fast and deep inside your body. A hand comes up to settle in your unbound hair, softly gripping the silk-like strands in his fingers and in his passion he pulls softly, the motion lifting your head. His lips lower to your ear as his back presses fully against your own, the feeling of his cock moving even deeper inside you unmatched. Between his chest against your back and his cock moving so deep he was practically rutting inside, you were almost certain your cunt had never felt so full. Breathless whimpers escape your mouth at the feeling, eyes closing in complete ecstasy as the sound of his own moans against your ear leaves your cunt clenching hard as he hits your g-spot over and over again with each deep thrust.

“Beg for it. Beg for me to let you cum.”

And beg you do.

“Please, Astarion!” A chorus of pleas rise from your throat voicing your desperation as his tongue licks the shell of your ear, the hand in your hair tightening slightly with every word and moan that falls from your lips. 

You can barely think as you feel your orgasm careen towards you, unintelligible in your words as you lose yourself in the feeling of your bodies. Astarion’s cock hits that deep inside spot at your front wall once more, and you finally let go, orgasm taking over your body, stars behind your eyes in all-consuming pleasure. You recognize Astarion nearing his own end, his hips rutting into yours as you ride out your orgasm on his cock, cunt squeezing him in a vice. He comes with a drawn-out moan as he paints your insides with his cum, hips shuttering until his thrusts slow down.

Astarion stays inside you, cock softening as he rubs his hands up and down your sides as you both come down from your high, his cold cheek pressed against your shoulder. With deep breaths you take air so heavy and sweet with your shared lust into your lungs, the weight of Astarion on your back an anchor to the world.

With one final pump Astarion pulls himself from your body, watching as your empty cunt weeps with a mixture of his and your own cum. Before he can stop himself, he reaches two fingers up to catch the cum on his fingertips, gently pushing it back inside you before it can fall out onto the table resting below your hips. 

“Wouldn’t want you to waste a single drop, my love.”

You whine and buck your hips, overstimulated after coming so many times in a row. With one last press of his fingers, he leaves your cunt, leaning forward to place a kiss on the small of your back.

Astarion grabs a discarded piece of silk off the table beside your head and he gently wipes at the mess that threatens to leave your body before cleaning his own spent cock. As your breathing returns to its normal pace, you push yourself up slightly. 

“Silk. Really, Astarion?”

“Only the best for you, my love.” Astarion is quick to help you off the table, steadying you as you sway slightly after being in the same position for so long. He presses a kiss to your lips as he helps pull your dress back up over your breasts and into place. 

“I would ask if I was too rough, but I know you better than that.” His remark makes you laugh as you lean into him, throwing your arms around his neck with a wide smile.

“You know, I think I’m missing a tiny piece of my clothing,” Your eyebrows raise as you gesture to his pocket where a tiny piece of darkened lace sticks out from. "You wouldn’t happen to know where it is, would you?”

“Why bother?” Astarion gives a casual shrug as he waves off your query. “I’m just going to take them off of you again when we get home.” 

He stuffs the underwear in question deeper into his pocket, patting it securely before flashing you a crafty smile.

“After all, I haven’t even had my dinner yet.” He leans in, setting your heart aflame with a passionate kiss before grabbing your hand to lead you out the door and into the waiting night.

[god-usopps-preacher]

I have an AU where half the cast of One Piece are cats. There is no fanfiction but there is lore and a long post. Anyone interested?

It will be posted anyway but I'm curious to see how many people would be interested in this because I absolutely love it but I'm very biased.

[whispering-clan]

The Costal Valley Territories

I made a map of the Whisper-verse clan's territories!

These clans live alongside the sea in a small valley split by a river!

Note: this map is more representative than entirely accurate, I just tried to show the basic idea of what the territories look like.

Descriptions of the Clan Territories below!

Moon Island:

Moon Island is both the gathering place for the clans on the full moon, and the place where the majority of the clans (excluding Whisperingclan) go to speak to Starclan. In the middle of the island where the trees form a circle around a large stone, the leaders will perch for meetings. This is also where cats wishing to speak to Starclan sit- under the light of the moon and stars.

...

Age/origin: Youngest clan; formed after the founders were banished from Roaringclan for a coup against the new leader.

Whisperingclan:

Mood Board

Territory: the tallest mountains, rocky, though with some trees, grass and bushes interspersed with the stone. There are a few small creeks and pools running through the mountains due to rain and snow run off, there are also several caves within the mountain. The winter is the worst here with the high altitude and high snowfall.

Camp: the Whispering Cave, a large cave filed with mystical glowing crystals which seem to whisper with the words of the Starclan ancestors. There are several pools above the cave, from which small streams of water fall through cracks in the stone into the cave.

Borders: the River marks the border with Roaringclan and SIngingclan; the border with Growlingclan is only marked with scent markers, though the change in territories can also be seen in the mountain peaks becoming lower and sharper in Growling territory.

...

Roaringclan:

Age/Origin: One of the oldest clans, formed at the same time as Singingclan and Echoingclan; territory was once larger, but was taken over by humans.

Territory: grassy, hilly, plains. Notable features are small patches of trees and bushes, a lake, a muddy/ soil patch by the river, and many little burrows to be found amongst the hills.

Camp: the Abandoned Burrows, a circle of empty fox burrows surrounded by trees and bushes.

Borders: the River marks the border with Whisperingclan; the creek marks the borders of Singingclan and Weepingclan; and on all other sides a human fence marks where their territory ends and the Human Farms begin.

...

Weepingclan:

Age/Origin: Second youngest, though still far older than Whisperingclan; formed from Singingclan separating into two clans, not from any all out fighting, but the realization that there were two obvious separate groups (in skill and personality) in the clan that could survive better in the separate territories.

Territory: marsh lands and dark forests made up of willows and oaks. The forests have soft thick wet peat, though there are some rocky places. Tall grasses and reeds grow around the marsh giving good cover.

Camp: The Weeping Grotto, a large cave opening within a rocky area of the forest of which is surrounded by the largest and oldest weeping willows of the territory.

Borders: the border with Roaringclan is marked by the creek; the border with Singingclan is marked by scent markers, though the change in territories can also be seen in the change in types of trees; the small piece of border with Echoingclan is separated by the river at it's widest, though both clans lay claim to half of the row of stepping stones which could connect the territories; the border which is not shared with any clan stops where human trails (hiking trails) begin, farther from there are human dens and farms.

...

Singingclan:

Age/Origin: One of the oldest clans, formed at the same time as Roaringclan and Echoingclan; originally encompassed Weepingclan as well, but they amicably separated into two clans for better survival.

Territory: forests made of oak and birch along with meadows filled with wildflowers and grasses. Through the center of the territory runs the River and a small creek shoots off through the territory as well. the river is banked by reeds and other water plants.

Camp: the River Hollow, a space surrounded by trees in the center of the island in the middle of the River within their territory.

Borders: the border with Roaringclan is marked by the creek; the border with Whispering and Growlingclan is marked by the River; the border with Weepingclan is marked by scent markers, though the change in territories can also be seen in the change of types of trees; and the border with Echoingclan is marked with scent markers, though it is easy to tell where it is, it is where the sand begins.

...

Echoingclan:

Age/Origin: One of the oldest clans, formed at the same time as Roaringclan and Singingclan; originally encompassed Growlingclan as well, though unlike Weeping and Singing, the separation was born from civil war, the losing side being Growlingclan.

Territory: a beach, almost entirely sand with only costal plants growing in the territory. There is a cliff line which is made up of rock, at the higher end of which the beach is mostly rock with tide pools, weathered stone arches, and the opening to a system of sea caves. This territory seems small, but the sea caves stretch out underneath for large expanses, and even under Growlingclan's territory, Echoingclan lays claim to all of the cave system even under other clan's terriotories.

Camp: the Sea Caves, mostly the large cavern formed at the front opening of the Sea Caves but some cats may even make their own dens in smaller off shoots of the caves as well.

Borders: most of their borders are at the sea's edge, though their borders with the other clans are marked with scent markers; it is easy to tell where territories end however. the border with Singingclan is where Singing's grass begins, and the border with Growlingclan is where the mountain's stone begins.

...

Growlingclan:

Age/Origin: Third youngest, though still far older than Whisperingclan; formed from Echoingclan separating into two clans, two factions in the clan had formed and went into a civil war, Echoing won and banished the losing side to the far less hospitable side of the territory.

Territory: Truly one of the harshest territories, the lower levels of the mountains, rocky sharp lands that end with cliffs along the sea shore that are too high to dare try to reach the sea. There are small groups of shrubs and small trees, but little else in the form of plant life. there are some small pools which are cherished as they are the only certain sources of water.

Camp: the Broken Crag, a cliff face which is broken in places revealing small caves where cats can make dens.

Borders: the border with Whisperingclan is marked with scent markers though the change in territories can also be seen through the mountain peaks becoming higher in Whispering territory; the small border with Singingclan is marked with the river; the border with Echoingclan is marked with scent markers though it is easy to tell where the border is, it is where the sand begins.

[matchamiko]

lol neuvillette just sucking ur nipples or smth is enough to have u going a bit insane right??? RIGHT????

Giggling so hard rn

Warnings: breast worship/play, dry humping, mentions of masturbation, mentions of penetrative sex; previously established relationship.

If there’s one thing Neuvillette is, it’s thorough. You ask him about one of his trials after he returns from the Opera Eclipse, and he’s talking for hours about every piece of evidence in the case; you shyly ask him to brush your hair and he’s producing several combs and brushes and an oil to massage your scalp; he decides to take you on what humans call a date, and you’re trekking through the purple fields in the countryside to the most darling little picnic spot and dining on pastries until dusk, and then returning to the city to stroll about the fountains and gardens arm in arm with the promise of a mightily thorough kiss at the end.

And he’s no different when playing your body like a fiddle. He's got you folded into his lap, office door locked, blinds only half drawn but there's no danger of anyone looking in, not when he's so wrapped around you that it's hard to seen even a glimpse of your bare skin. It started as a visit for tea, the leaves you brought from your village in the Vale fresh and still warm from being dried over a fire, chatting idly in the way you two did that Neuvillette found so refreshing and simple. Then it led to you shyly asking for a kiss, having missed him so dearly and so wantonly, shown in the way you gripped his lapels and leaned further into him with a questioning sigh and an answered grunt. And now, you're half dressed spread over his thick thighs, his coat strewn next to the two of you and his gloves somewhere with it.

"Let me taste you," he murmurs against the column of your throat, hands running up the length of your back and down again, squeezing your hips into a dizzying grind. Your breasts press deliciously against the cotton of his shirt, nipples slipping and rubbing over his chest and every time you shudder with pleasure, Neuvillette basks in the way you arch harder into him like a cat. You feel wonderful, writhing over his groin and trying not to let your darkest desires overtake you like you so often did. The precious little tea farmer he'd befriended and then courted and then decidedly and silently pledged himself to; you're full of dirty secrets and filthy wants that has him spiralling into territories he'd never even thought about before. And your tits were one of them, to put it frankly.

He's fucked you before, numerous times, to your hearts content and more often than not, to your dictation and command. It wasn't surprising that your precious Iudex wasn't particularly well versed in human seduction, and you bravely stood up to the task you had completely made up, of showing him everything you desired and introducing him to everything he desired. But today, in the secrecy of his office, the knowledge that just outside the doors, people mill about and wait for an appointment with him; Neuvillette steps away from his duties and demands the feel of your supple skin against his teeth.

"I admit," a hand grasps the fat of your breast, squeezing roughly with the whoreish rhythm you have going on with your hips, "I've been thinking often about having you like this, desperate and desiring me all from the touch I give you here," fingers pluck at your nipple before he dips his head and takes it into his mouth. He's done this before, too many times to count, but with him being fully dressed and you an absolute mess in his lap; it feels different, raw and unfiltered in the wavering sanctity of his office. You can feel Neuvillette's tongue flattening over your nipple, swirling and curling like he does between your legs and it sends you arching into him, further into his reclined figure and deeper into his lap. A dizzying moan leaves you chest when you feel the hot, hard press of his cock through his trousers, confined in such a way that it's mind numbing when you grind against it. He pulls back for a second, looking up at you with hair strewn about his face, cheeks red and ears redder, panting hot and wet against your skin.

"Don't stop, please," he doesn't care for your politeness, doesn't care for your request, doing as he pleases with your body; one hand gripping your bottom and urging you to grind against him, and the other grasping meanly at your tit. Neuvillette seems positively ravenous this afternoon, though it should have been obvious in the way he allowed you to push him over to the settee and mount him without asking.

"I'm plagued with thoughts of you during matters that I should be attending to, important matters that garner my fullest attention and yet -," he suckles a bruise into the swell of your breast, held firm by his hands, squishing them together and nuzzling into the crevice between, breathing deeply enough to shudder, "All I can think about is you, what I want to do to you the next time we are alone, the next time you allow me to have you in such undignified ways," you're shaking when he regains his focus and takes your nipple into his mouth, tugging and nipping and gnawing like he does on his bottom lip when he's concentrating, suckling hard before letting go with a pop - allowing you to take a gasping breath and to look down at how positively enthralled he is at he taste of your doughy flesh,

"You don't need to be so formal while you're playing with my tits Neuvillette," you've always been more straight forward, more brash and crude, than him; having grown up in the countryside, in another nation, a whole other life to the one he leads. He leaves a wet trail from his tongue over your nipple, catching it between his sharp teeth and tugging enough to make you whine lowly, "I - can't stop thinking about you too, 'specially when I'm on my own," the implication is implicit but Neuvillette surges up into you, hips strong and knocking into yours with a grunt. He's filled suddenly with images of you writhing in your bed, hand stuffed between your thighs, fingers wet and slick in your cunt - the same he can feel pulsing and purring over his lap.

"Tonight, I've cleared my last appointment so I can spend it with you," he gasps, lips swollen from their assault on your breasts, eyes unfocused and pupils blown wide with want "After supper, after I spoil you like I have promised; you are showing me everything you do when you are alone and desperate for me,"

[jo-harrington]

Team Building (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: No one does Halloween quite like the Hellfire Club, and you just so happened to have promised to join them.

Previous Part: Closing Time

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. Mutual Pining and Slow Burn, Fluffy Fluff, Trick or Treating

Note: HAPPY HALLOWEEN and welcome back to the Store Manager Verse. I actually wanted to be further along with my chronological releases but it just never happened. This one is definitely probably one of the best timed releases with the holiday but there's a minor note that there's...maybe a reference to a yet-to-be published installation of the story. Eddie and SM are gonna be going on a little road trip at some point and will meet some of SM's family. DONT EVEN WORRY ABOUT IT FOR NOW. Just enjoy the shenanigans.

You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other writing.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

"You look cute today."

"Thanks!"

"You need to look less cute next week. We're doing zombies, remember?"

"Got it."

Every day.

"Did you pick up that fake blood from Melvalds like you promised?"

"Yeah it's at home."

"Ok great because...because I was a little afraid you were gonna forget about our plans."

"Don't worry Eddie."

He reminded you every day.

"Ok so we're meeting at Gareth's at 4 on Thursday."

"Alright I'll be there."

"No, uh, glitter makeup? We're going for realism. Shock and awe."

"I swear to god!"

Every day for an entire week, whether he was scheduled to work or not, Eddie showed up at Star Court to remind you that you had promised to go Trick or Treating with him and his friends.

It was cute endearing.

October--and more specifically Halloween--was one of your favorite times of the year at work. It was laid back and fun. No pressure from either Back to School or the Holiday rush, you could "dress up" with little costume pieces or fun makeup every day, and you could have a bowl of candy at the cash wrap that made everyone's day a little bit brighter.

And outside of work, you'd really embraced the season.

Correction, Eddie made you embrace the season.

Before moving to Hawkins, Halloween had always been incredibly...commercial. Costumes and decorations from the little seasonal aisle at the drugstore. The biggest display of candy at the grocery store that you needed to stock up on unless you wanted your house egged.

And your social life consisted, mainly, of outings with your coworkers. Pumpkin patches and haunted hayrides almost always became team building activities. That wasn't to say your coworkers--new and old--weren't your friends too.

But with Eddie...it was different.

A harvest festival outside of Muncie, horror movies late at night during a thunderstorm, warm apple cider at Merrill's Farm while looking for gourds that were shaped like your heads. Pumpkin carving on the porch at the trailer, cutting out bats and cats from black construction paper, and now Trick or Treating with his friends.

You thought, early on in your friendship, that it was just some throw away comment. But knowing him as well as you did now, you realized that he really meant everything he said.

Every promise was purposeful, especially when it came to the people he cared about. Which was why you were sure he was determined to make the night perfect. Not only for you, but for everyone.

Especially the handful of little sheep that were newcomers to Hellfire.

"The freshman," he explained on Sunday as you worked on your costumes together. "They're little turds but...I dunno, they have potential."

You'd already heard about them at the beginning of the year as Eddie gushed about his new recruits; younger brothers that Eddie sort of always wished for but was thankful he didn't actually have.

"They're not gonna think I'm some like...weird old person right?" you laughed self-consciously, thinking back to Jeff's comment when you said you wouldn't buy them beer. And sure you were not that much older than Eddie, but you were sure you were ancient to a bunch of 14-year olds.

"You're the coolest person I know. And I'm the coolest person they know."

"You saw how my brother is though," you waved your hand dismissively. Jimmy's words--who would have guessed your boyfriend's not lame like you--wouldn't stop echoing in your head though.

Boyfriend. Boyfriend. Boyfriend.

Eddie still wasn't your boyfriend.

They must have echoed in Eddie's too because his cheeks flushed and he immediately became bashful. He ducked his head into his shoulder a little bit and refused to meet your eyes as he hacked away at the sleeves of the old flannel in his hands.

"Your brother," he finally replied, "is a little turd too. I'm sure the kids will worship you. More than they worship me. I promise. Everything will be alright."

---

Before you knew it, Thursday rolled around.

You were running late to get to the Emerson's to get ready thanks to a last minute visit from your DM. Who knew that pictures of you and your team for the company-issued costume contest would take so long?

Still, to save time, you decided not to change costumes until you got to the house. Seeing as Eddie had grand plans for everyone's face paint to make them look as close to Day of the Dead as possible, you figured you would be fine.

However, you were not expecting the entire gaggle of boys to stare at you with stars in their eyes as you stepped out of your car, duffle bag full of torn old clothes and gallon of fake blood in-hand, done up like a glam metal superstar.

Or as close to it as you could get with the accessories you carried at the store. Rainbow hair extensions and glitter spray, layers of chain jewelry, and too much cheetah print.

"You," Eddie began as he pushed through the group to get to you. His face was already a ghastly pallor thanks to a layer of facepaint from melvalds, exactly as he had envisioned. "Are a traitor and a turncoat, a disgrace to the uniform, and your status as Corroded Coffin's number one fan."

"I've literally never heard you guys play," you rolled your eyes at him.

"Did my lesson about the different types of metal mean nothing to you?" he clutched a hand over his heart and then reached out and fiddled with your jewelry. "And didn't I say no glitter."

"I just need to use the bathroom to wash it all off. Then you can make me gross and moldy like you."

"It's not mold. It's rot. Get it right." You flipped him off and he grinned. "Hey sweetheart."

"Hi."

"Nice of you to finally join us."

Eddie threw an arm around your shoulders and led you into the garage. You said hi to Jeff, Gareth, and Dave, and then he introduced you to the sheep.

Mike and Lucas and Dustin and Will.

They were all a little bashful as Eddie went down the line; it was reminiscent of when you met the others, except less fun facts and more silly tidbits meant to embarrass the kids.

Will the Wise whose worst stat was intelligence. Dustin who had a girlfriend in Utah--

"She's real, I swear."

--Mike who had already gone through two new characters because he couldn't roll to save his life. Literally. And Lucas who liked sports.

"Oh my god," you scoffed at Eddie. “You make it sound like sports are a scourge."

"They are."

"You like hockey."

"I," Eddie paused. "Tolerate hockey."

You grinned triumphantly and said hello to each of the boys before ducking into the house to get changed.

"Dude, she is way out of your league." you could hear Mike whine, followed by a dull thud of a fist hitting an arm.

"That's what we've been telling him the whole time," Dave cackled.

---

Eddie and Will were the masterminds behind the zombification process--bickering back and forth about what scar went where and how gross that pus should look as they applied facepaint--but all the boys tossed in their creative input.

"Oh my god, do you still have that rubber eyeball from lunch? We can glue it to Jeff's hand."

"What if--don't touch my hair--what if we--don't touch my hair."

"More blood! More! MORE!"

Before you knew it, two hours had passed, it was dark out and gaggles of Trick-or-Treaters were already filling the streets. Gareth's mom had set herself up on the porch with a bowl full of fun-sized candy and wished you all farewell as you took off down the sidewalk.

A veritable hoard of the undead, with ripped clothes, foaming mouths, blood-soaked hands, and pillowcases to double as treat bags.

To your surprise, there was a lot more to Trick or Treating than you had initially thought. All your childhood, you'd just gone door to door for a few blocks, rang a bell, got some candy, and at the end of the night traded treats with your brothers or your friends.

To Hellfire, it was just as involved as any of their DnD campaigns. And it's how you learned more about each of the boys, and surprisingly, more about their fearless leader.

Lucas and Mike were the perfect strategists and, as you began your trek, listed off neighborhoods that gave the best candy. You got the in-depth analysis between full-size and fun-size candies, chocolate versus peanut butter versus nougat, and you made a mental note to be more mindful of the choices you put out at the cash wrap for next year.

Dustin and Eddie were the navigators mentally mapping the distances between each neighborhood and how quickly and efficiently the group could get around.

"We should have just taken the van," Eddie scoffed when Dustin suggested Loch Nora first, the furthest trek of the night.

"No, then we'll end up back at Gareth's by 10. We just need to walk fast, it'll be perfect."

"And my mom is making a casserole for dinner," Gareth piped up. "She said you're all welcome to stay."

"Why don't we end at my place," Mike suggested. "We can just hang out in the basement and my mom will order pizza."

"No one wants to sleep in your dusty ass basement Wheeler," Dave scoffed.

"We're definitely skipping school tomorrow," Eddie pointed at all of the kids. "I hope you all know that."

Dave and Jeff, much to your surprise, were the "war generals" as they so graciously called themselves. They had a few rolls of toilet paper and a carton of eggs tucked away in their pillowcases, in case they came across--

"The enemies!!!" The older boys hollered into the starry night sky, quickly earning glares from other kids and parents as they passed.

"And who would that be?" you asked. The entire group looked at you like you'd grown a second head. "I'm sorry I'm not well-versed in Halloween mischief."

"Oh it's gonna be fun corrupting you." Eddie laughed wickedly, and started ticking off examples on his fingers. "People who tell us we're too old to trick or treat."

"I thought you said no one cared!" you exclaimed.

"Most people," he clarified, "don't care. But someone called the cops on us. What was it? Last year? Year before?" He looked at the older boys for confirmation.

"Mrs. Peterson who likes to sic her dogs on the kids who get too close to her rose bushes," Lucas offered next.

"If someone has their porch light on, but doesn't answer the door."

"When someone gives raisins instead of candy," Will supplied, ignoring Dustin's quiet, I like raisins.

The list went on: people who made fun of their costumes, the one house where the guy sat on his porch and douse kids with "holy water" for engaging in devilry.

"And Jason Carver," Eddie finished with a flourish.

They all looked at you for some kind of objection...or maybe your approval? You weren't too sure.

But at your soft nod, they all whooped and hollered and a few of the younger boys even took off running so they could jump and scare some of the kids who were just minding their own business.

"See?" Eddie asked and grabbed your hand in his as you followed at the back of the group. "And you were afraid they were gonna think you were some gross old lady. They're trying to impress you."

"Impress is a stretch."

"Ah ah ah," he shook his head. "I will hear none of it. I told them all that they were to be on their best worst behavior. Make sure you have the best time. That they are mere peasants here to serve the Queen of the Undead."

You let his hand go and pushed him away from you, even though your heart beat a little faster knowing he wanted them to behave around you.

"Go before I gnaw on your brains."

"You promise?" he waggled his eyebrows at you suggestively.

"Go!"

---

It was an eventful night.

You moaned and groaned and shuffled your way across Hawkins, just like the zombies in Romero's movies, to get all sorts of sweet treats. Candy and popcorn and fresh-dipped caramel apples that someone was making in their yard in Loch Nora.

The group successfully TP'd one house, and you'd even personally egged someone's front door after they called the gang delinquents. You were not athletic in the slightest, but you hit your target dead on, and basked in the boy's gleeful war cries.

You were grateful for Eddie's suggestion of sneakers because you'd walked more in those 4 hours than you had during any Black Friday or Christmas Eve double shift in your entire career. You were sure even a day at Disneyland couldn't hold a candle to the Hellfire Club Whistle Stop Walking Candy Tour of Hawkins.

The boys all took to calling you mom pretty early in the night after you stopped Jeff from chomping into a handful of starbursts.

"Your braces," you reminded him, motioning to your teeth. "You're gonna snap a wire; you hate the orthodontist."

He groaned and all of the boys started snickering. Eddie, of course, was quick to shame him.

"Listen to your mother!"

And the nickname just stuck.

Of course Mike--who you noticed tried to emulate Eddie most out of the group of freshman--had a retort.

"If she's mom," he said smugly. "Does that mean you're dad?"

The boys all started making kissy faces and you had to laugh as Eddie got a little flustered.

After watching him flounder for a comeback, you decided to help him out, so you crossed the distance and pressed a quick peck to his cheek before you turned and shook your finger at the boys in a disappointed way.

"Next person to sass your father," you started. "And you're all grounded." They all looked a mixture of confused and worried for a second.

"What does that mean?" Lucas asked nervously.

"It means you start the next session with half of your hit points," Eddie finally recovered, voice growling in a threat. The boys all clammed up and turned to head to the next house.

"Sorry about them," he shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Nah, it's ok," you smiled reassuringly. "They meant well. Still...til death do us part, I guess."

You both froze and you started panicking.

Why had you said that?

Still, Eddie was able to make it all better. He shuffled his feet and cracked a smile, then gestured to your costumes.

"Or uh...undeath. Considering."

Still, you had butterflies in your stomach every time one of the boys called you mom and dad for the rest of the night.

---

By the time 10 rolled around, you were back at the Emerson's house. Gareth's mom greeted you all excitedly with sodas and plates of hot buffalo chicken casserole with crispy tater tots on top, and you all sat in the garage to eat and divvy up your haul.

"So," Eddie slumped on the sofa next to you at some point after dinner was finished. You were tiredly watching Lucas and Dave argue the merits of Three Musketeers versus Milky Way and glad for the distraction. "Did you have fun?"

"Of course."

"Enough to do it again next year?"

"Is this your way of telling me you guys trick or treat every year?" you joked. "Because I kind of picked up on those hints all night."

"More like...I don't know," he sniffed awkwardly. "You still planning to be my friend next year?"

"Stop asking me that," you hit the back of your hand against his chest. "If I got to see you be a big dork with your gaggle of kindergarteners--"

"Hey!" came Will and Mike's whine from a few feet away.

"--and I'm still here, nothing's gonna scare me away Eddie."

He grabbed your hand to stop you from hitting him again, but stayed silent for a moment, eyes darting back and forth between yours as his tongue worried his lip.

You got nervous the longer he hesitated to say something, and once he did, you had the sneaking suspicion it wasn't exactly what he'd really wanted to say in the first place.

You hoped it wasn't what he wanted to say. Hoped it was just something he couldn't say in front of his friends.

"Then you don't mind if we do Alien next year. And before you say anything, I think I would make a great Ripley. I already have the hair for it and I'm pretty sure I have that same underwear."

"Sure Eddie," you agreed a little stiffly. "Sounds perfect."

He smiled, but it didn't quite meet his eyes.

Still, the two of you stayed huddled together on that couch for the rest of the night, surrounded by friends.

Hands held comfortably together.

Next Part: Promotion

[jigensass]

Anddd added to the collection.

[wedriftlikelonelyplanets]

Imagine Landoscar having a fight about their weird situationship and lestappen take the opportunity to have Oscar for themselves since they've always been interested, making sure Lando knows, and when they do it, Oscar moans Lando's name the entire time, which they're all into ofcourse so max records it and sends it to Lando.....so that idiot can man up and take his man....

c:

ANON

OH ANON, I hope you're proud of yourself you have once again made the brain go brrrrr. This wouldn't happen in like canonical GITHHHW verse, HOWEVER it's fun to think about it as a spin-off.

PLEASE APPRECIATE this drabble under the cut. USFW warning for phone sex (kinda?)

Lando's fucking miserable, sprawled out on the couch, he doesn't think he's understood a single word of the fucking anime show that he queued up on Netflix. Can't stop thinking about Oscar, the jump of his jaw, his clenched fists, "Lando, can you just fucking listen to me for one second?" desperation bleeding into his tone. "Can we talk about this?"

Lando wasn't ready. Doesn't know if he is ready to commit to a relationship with the teammate he's worried is going to edge him out of the team. He already knows his feelings for Oscar are larger than life, but there's an inherent level of vulnerability that comes with admitting them. Doesn't want to feel like a sad, drowned cat in the rain when Oscar admits he doesn't feel anything near the same.

Though, he supposes, that's likely impossible, when Oscar just fucking walked out because Lando was refusing to define things.

He's not used to seeing Oscar angry, it's another piece of the puzzle slotting into place of the things he knows about Oscar. That even his anger is a subtle thing. Tense jaw, a squeeze of his hand on the back of his neck tight enough to mark red crescents into the skin, long sighs, narrowed eyes. Thinks maybe the only other time he's seen Oscar prettier is when he's laid out underneath him begging to come, or when he's standing on the podium with that first place trophy in his hands, eyes glowing.

He buries his face in the throw pillow with a pathetic sound, half-sob, half-whine, wants to pull out his phone and apologize, but there's pride in the way. The insurmountable barrier. He wants Oscar to come running back to him, not the other way around. Wants Oscar to realize what he's missing.

His phone vibrates insistently on the coffee table, and he ignores it until it stills. He glances at it with teary eyes, with a sniff, hopes that it rings again. It does. It's not Oscar though, it's a facetime request from Max.

He wants to ignore it. He's not in the mood to fucking talk to Max right now, to listen to him talk about iRacing, or whatever fucking race shit he wants to bring up. He's not in the mood for a debrief. Isn't even in the mood to be social, unless it's downing shots at Jimmy'z.

He lets the phone fall silent a second time, thinks it's the last of it, shifts on the couch and reaches out to check the notifications, despite the fact that he knows it's just going to be the two ignored FaceTime requests from Max.

A text from Max pings through as he opens his phone.

Answer your fucking phone, mate

Then the FaceTime starts again. He tilts his head back, swipes away the vestiges of the tears that he felt gathering earlier, and composes himself. Takes a deep breath and lets it out. Swipes to answer, and is met with Max's face, smile canine and sharp.

"Are you missing something?" there's something assured in his tone of voice, almost superior, and Lando's confused for a moment, head tilted as he focuses on Max. He almost misses the background noise, almost misses the brief shift in the camera, of Charles' face, head tossed back. Almost misses the soft murmured whine of his name.

"Lando," It's Oscar's voice, Lando's name punched out of him breathlessly.

"What the fuck, Max," Lando's tone is sharp, hand clenching into a fist where it's settled in his lap.

"He came to us, asking so prettily for it. He's lovely, Lando, really," Max's voice smooths into something a little softer, adoring, glances back at the scene behind him. His eyes soften immediately, as Charles leans over to press a kiss to his lips. Stays like that for a moment, before he returns to the task at hand. "Very good at listening to instructions,"

"He is not saying anything other than your name," Charles voice is soft from the background, "Isn't that right, mon petit?" Charles is presumably asking Oscar, where Lando can't see him. Hears the whined "Yes," in response to the question, and curses his traitorous cock when it twitches in his sweats.

"Even when I'm fucking him, it's your name he is crying," It's punctuated by the sound of skin against skin, and Lando can't help the whine that escapes him.

"Do you want to see?" Max asks, and Lando nods, on autopilot. Max switches the camera view, and it's enough to make Lando breathless. Oscar's lying on his back, chest flushed, eyes teary, legs wrapped around the narrow dip of Charles' waist, mouth open. Thoroughly fucked out and then some. His cock is hard, flushed and red, leaking pre-come all over his abdomen.

If Lando squints, he's pretty sure he can already see come streaked across his chest.

His fingers are fisted helplessly in the sheets, head tilted back as Charles fucks into him, as he whines. "Lando, please," Lando's name a sob on his lips.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Oscar," Lando's voice is almost reverent, "With them and even then you can't stop thinking about me?"

Oscar's eyes fly open at the sound of his voice, he meets Lando's gaze from the impersonal barrier of the cell phone, and with a particularly well timed thrust from Charles, he's coming all over again. Back arched, come streaking over his chest, tears glistening in the corners of his eyes. "Lando, Lan, oh my god," Lando's name a chant on his lips.

"I'll be over for him in a few,'' is Lando's snarled response through the phone, and he hears Max's sharp laugh before he hangs up.

Is glad he's got the browser tabs open on his phone for a few select toys, because no one else gets to have Oscar after this.