#crystal strider

[dailycharacteroption]

Lastwall Sentry (Pathfinder Second Edition Archetype)

(art by GeorgeVostrikov on DeviantArt)

So, two weeks ago we covered both the Knight Reclaimant and Knight Vigilant archetypes, both of which require and are extensions of the Lastwall Sentry archetype. Well, guess what we’re finally covering today?

At the end of the life cycle of 1st edition and the advent of 2nd, the nation of Lastwall, a long-time bastion against not just The Worldwound but also the remnants of the Whispering Tyrant’s forces and the threat of his return was destroyed by the superweapon developed by the returned lich ruler and his resurgent armies.

However, while their bastions have been destroyed and their nation turned into a twisted wasteland of undeath and corrupted life known as the Gravelands, the defenders of Lastwall have not abandoned their post. Instead, those who remained renewed their vows and swore to hold the line and one day be victorious over the forces of darkness.

Whether they join one of the two divinely-empowered factions among their number or stick with their role as guardians and defenders, these warriors remain resolute against evil. Today, in this entry, we’ll see exactly how they do so!

The base dedication of this archetype requires the trainee to first learn how to properly use a shield to block incoming blows, but once they take the dedication, they can do so reflexively. In addition, they train to become more physically fit and learn more about their hated enemy: the undead.

Many also learn to always be ready against the undead, almost never being caught off guard by the classic ambushes and attacks of unquiet souls and necromantic abominations. However, they might be fooled by undead disguised as the living, or vice versa.

Incorporeal undead are the bane of any shieldbearer, but some learn to utter a prayer of protection to instilling their shield, as well as any shield boss or spikes, with just enough power to reach into the ether and block or strike foes with said shield for a few seconds.

For many, the title of sentry isn’t an empty role, and many are especially good at spotting danger or distant threats.

Others become so familiar with undead foes they almost always have a decent chance of recognizing their nature and abilities.

The guardians of Lastwall would rather face total oblivion that rise again as an undead monstrosity and become a threat to the very people they fight for. As such, some learn divine or occult methods of suffusing their bodies with trace amounts of positive energy that lingers after death, preventing all but the most powerful forces from raising them as undead, and making their corpse actually toxic to the unliving.

Similarly, many train to inure themselves to negative energy and harmful necromancy.

Though sometimes others may have differences of opinion or goals that run counter to these sentries, most will not slay the living if they can help it, learning how to better deal nonlethal blows against them when a peaceful resolution cannot be reached.

When one is part of a shield wall, it is often important to know how to push foes back with one’s shield, and so these warriors do, especially if they are also champions with a knack for using both hands to strike with a shield.

Some have fought they undead so long the can sense their presence, giving them an early warning against unseen foes.

The undead hoards just keep coming, and one must often adapt to the quirks of different undead types on the fly, and so these sentries do, recalling their weaknesses and how to pierce them in the same motion as they strike.

Like any foe, the undead are capable of mistakes and poor luck despite their relentlessness, and many of these warriors train to capitalize on that, punishing such fumbles with a mighty shove driving them back.

Rather it be by personal prayer, the blessings of a priest, or sheer willpower-driven occult power, more experienced soldiers of lastwall find their weapons able to strike true against spectral foes.

Some that revere a goodly deity sometimes channel a bit of their god’s blessing into their shield, causing it to flare with positive energy and light to harm and drive back the wicked undead.

Even negative energy is not exempt from their shields, giving them a new way to absorb the harm caused by the undead.

Necromancy is an insidious school of magic on the offense, and as they continue to inure themselves, they learn to better resist such spells which would have a partial effect even when they would succeed.

Those that have honed their senses against undeath can refine them further into a more precise sense, letting them better root them out.

True to their part as members of a shield wall, these warriors can protect others with their shields, not just themselves, and they often reflexively move to interpose the shield if it is an undead assailant.

Death and corruption are old companions of these warriors, and they not only better resist such effects but also try their best to ignore feelings of nausea and unwellness.

Whether it be divine intervention or a spot of uncanny luck in the face of doom, but these guardians sometimes find their shield holding out against one more attack when others would splinter and shatter.

It’s a simple lesson, if evil magic is being cast or manifested nearby, you disrupt it however you can, and some learn to do this with their raw spiritual power alone.

Some of the most powerful sentries are so resolute that they don’t just resist the life-sucking power of the void, but all forms of harm that undead would do to them, standing firmer against the deathly tide.

This archetype is one half improving your shield usage, and one half resisting and retaliating against the undead. As such, it really is meant primarily to be used by champions, fighters, rangers, as well as any sort of class build that makes heavy use of a shield in one hand and a weapon in the other. I will say, however, that a lot of the feats available to the class really are “you resist the deathly effects of undead, but in a different mechanical way”, which gives the homebrewer in me a headache. Even still, if you’re planning on building a shield-based character that fights a lot of undead, and this archetype is available, go for it, and remember it can also be a stepping stone for two other specific archetypes!

It really is inspiring to see heroes emerge from tragedy, to see people be subjected to the absolute worst that life has to offer and say “You will break before I do.” I suppose that’s why such characters are so popular across media.

Long has the Shining Legion stood firm against the horrors of the armies of Kados. However, when the necromancer king recruits a cadre of summoners, the legion will find itself against an unfamiliar foe in the form of hordes of elementals, including massive crystal striders and the like.

Though stout of heart, Pebbo the grippli is an odd choice indeed for a member of the Holy Phalanx, but he insisted he could be of use despite his small size, and he meant it, offering to train his very own underfoot brigade of smaller peoples to supplement the main shieldwall.

With the prestige of both the knights reclaimant and the knights vigilant, it’s often easy to assume that the sentry legion is full of those that couldn’t hack it in either of those groups, but that couldn’t be further from the truth, as most are proud of their role as defenders. However, there are rarely those that live up to the stereotype, and though some learn to move on from those feelings of bitterness, others do not, forming a festering cyst in the unbreakable shell of the legion.

[maryelmodest]

💖🎀💖~6 Fanarts Challenge which I made a long time ago on Instagram :3~💖🎀💖

[mint-flavoredd]

So, uh,

recently got into homestuck

[crystal-clear-crystalline]

[ ID: A series of drawings featuring head shots of various characters on a grey background. In order, the characters are: a stern Rock Howard (Fatal Fury) looking away, a cocky Shen Woo (King of Fighters), a serious Hiryu (Strider Hiryu) looking at the viewer and a serious K' (King of Fighters) looking in the distance. /. End ID ]

It's self indulgent cute boy hours so here's some pretty simple head shots

It was a struggle trying to translate these lads into my style while still looking like themselves. Also some light experimentation with coloring

[randominktm]

a few sketches from this week that I liked, aka a bunch of homestuck and an Onica just for the funnies, along with my mental thought process when redrawing Dave's hair for the 5000000th time.

[homestuck-music-tournament]

Crystalanthemums

Album: Homestuck Vol. 5 Composer: Alex Rosetti Leitmotifs: Crystal Characters: Dave Strider, Jade Harley

You may know this from:

[S] Jade: Open FreshJamz! (Flash Broken)

[S] Jeff: Return. (From MSPFA "Sburb: Refresh")

[S] ==> (From MSPFA "Homestuck")

[nyaskitten]

I made another mech! This time it belongs to none other than my wife, Nya Jiang from LEGO Ninjago !!!

Please reblog :D

[pupsmailbox]

MINECRAFT ID PACK

NAMES︰ alex. amber. amethyst. ash. azalea. blaze. block. briar. brick. brielle. brier. brook. carver. celeste. clay. cobble. cree. crystal. daisy. dawn. dusty. ember. end. eve. flint. flora. forge. garnet. gemma. granite. grayson. harper. hazel. hero. holly. hopper. iris. ivy. jade. jett. juniper. lapis. laurel. lilac. lily. magnolia. maple. marigold. mason. meadow. miner. mira. moss. nova. oak. onyx. opal. pearl. pebble. poppy. prairie. pyre. quill. red. reed. river. rocky. rose. rowan. ruby. sable. sage. sapphire. selene. shale. sky. skye. skylar. slate. smith. spruce. steele. stella. stephen. stone. sunny. terra. thalia. timber. torch. violet. wade. willow.

PRONOUNS︰ a/axe. adventurer/adventurer. allay/allay. ar/armour. ax/axe. bam/bamboo. bat/bat. bee/bee. biome/biome. birch/birch. bla/blaze. blaz/blaze. blaze/blaze. blo/block. block/block. build/build. bun/bun. cake/cake. chest/chest. clay/clay. cob/cobble. copper/cooper. cow/cow. cra/craft. craf/craft. craft/craft. cre/creative. creep/creeper. creeper/creeper. dark/dark. deep/deepslate. deep/slate. dig/dig. disc/disc. drown/drown. ely/elytra. elytra/elytra. en/end. end/end. end/eye. ender/ender. ender/enderman. enderman/endermen. explorer/explorer. fight/fight. flint/flint. for/forge. fox/fox. ghast/ghast. glow/stone. goat/goat. grav/gravel. heal/heal. hive/hive. hun/hunger. husk/husk. hx/hxm. hy/hym. ice/ice. kaboom/kaboom. kelp/kelp. lav/lava. love/love. magma/magma. mi/mine. mine/mine. mob/mob. mod/mod. moosh/mooshroom. mooshroom/mooshroom. musicnote/musicnote. nether/nether. nostalgia/nostalgia. nostalgic/nostalgic. oak/oak. ocean/ocean. ore/ore. over/overworld. over/world. pearl/pearl. phantom/phantom. pi/pick. pig/pig. pig/pigstep. pig/step. play/player. ram/ram. red/stone. sap/sapling. scream/scream. sculk/sculk. sea/sea. shea/shear. sheep/sheep. sho/shovel. shulk/shulker. shx/hxr. shy/hyr. skele/skeleton. skeleton/skeleton. skulk/skulk. slime/slime. sme/smelt. smp/smp. snow/snow. spawner/spawner. spec/spectator. speed/speedrun. spider/spider. spruce/spruce. sta/stack. sto/stone. strider/strider. surv/survival. survivor/survivor. swo/sword. tele/teleport. terra/terracotta. thxy/thxm. thy/thym. tnt/tnt. tor/torch. tree/tree. ve/vex. vwoop/vwoop. warden/warden. warp/warped. warrior/warrior. wat/water. wit/wither. wither/wither. wo/wood. wolf/wolf. xp/xp. zomb/zombie. zombie/zombie.

[kitmon]

Oh Yeah, That's Right | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Newly graduated, you and Eddie take a trip to Lover's Lake to celebrate.

Pairing: Eddie Munson (Stranger Things, 2022) x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 9.3k

Tags: smut (18+ only), porn with a lot of plot but I promise it's worth it, drug use (weed), skinny dipping, swimming while intoxicated (don't do this, you will die), sex out in the open, Eddie is kinda a perv but that's just his way of flirting with reader, unprotected sex, Eddie refers to reader as "Pigeon" or "Pidge," it's just a nickname

Author’s Note: I've had this fic in mind since last June and omg I'm so excited to share this! It definitely is a labor of love and something that I wanted to be really good, especially since it is my first smut piece for Eddie (which is wild considering I've loved him for an entire year already) but I am very very proud and I hope that you enjoy it just as much as I do. Also, a big thanks to my bestie @queenimmadolla for beta reading and leaving me the most hilarious notes ever, I love you! And with all that said, enjoy!

The crunch of gravel under your boots is ambient bliss to your ears. Accompanied by the soft ebb and flow of the lake’s tide, the sound of untouched nature; the crickets and the cicadas, the skittering of small paws and the flustered flutter of birds and nocturnal creatures of the night frightened by the stuttering of your breath, taken by the glittering sight of Lover’s Lake at twilight, all glowing with the beams of the moon. Water striders glide across the liquid black mirror, the ripples in the water look like they carry diamonds on the crests of their waves before simmering into smaller crystals that turn fluid and slip between the gaps in the pebbles to return to their home. 

Eddie cuts through the silence of your appreciation with the harsh slam of his door, causing your shoulders to tense and your head to turn to look over the hood at him, his lithe frame strutting towards you as the corner of his lips reach for the dips in his cheeks.

His voice is deep and lilting as he speaks to you, “Told you I knew a spot.”

“Lover’s Lake isn’t a ‘spot,’ anyone over 16 and horny knows about Lover’s Lake,” you retort, eyes remaining unimpressed as he sidles up beside you.

“Well, would you look at that?” He teases as he spreads his arms out and studies himself in front of you.

You giggle, pushing your fingers into his chest and sending him back a step as you ignore him, walking towards the edge of the water. Your boots give way under the clacking stones before you shift your weight, crouching down with your arm around your knees as you pick at what the tide brings in; the forgotten shell homes of gastropods, the algae that grounds itself to the heaviest rocks and sways with the movement of the water like blades of grass in the gusts of April. You submerge your hand into the water and wrap your fingers around the flattest stone you can find, the water teasing the hem of your sweater. 

As Eddie’s heavy, less than subtle steps approach you from behind, you stand with a bit of effort as your unpracticed joints groan, examining the grey, marbled layers of the rock before leaning back and launching it over the water before it plops once, twice, three times before sinking on its fourth splash. Eddie whistles low and your head turns to watch him, all haughty hip-jut and sass-laced hands over sides.

“Not bad, Pidge.” He leans down and doesn’t even study hard before snatching a rock. “Not bad at all,” he mumbles before tossing it with an imperceptible flick of his wrist. The soft-edged stone sails over the water, jumping in six skips, effortlessly beating out your measly three.

“Show off,” you chastise with an unbothered smile as you stock off to where the grit of the shore is lessened by the flatness of the rocks, sitting gracefully before falling to your back to watch the unperturbed night sky glisten with smatterings of light that twinkle and wink down at you. Eddie falls beside you, grunting as he attempts to make himself comfortable over the uneven terrain. You sigh through your nose and turn to look at him.

“Now what?” You question.

He looks down the length of himself, pursing his lips as he takes a minute to inspect the journey from his chest down to his crotch, before turning to meet your eyes, a playful glint in the dark abyss of his own, “Wasn’t kidding when I said I was horny.”

“Not gonna happen,” you smile, matching his mischief as you place your arms behind your head.

He pouts in faux disappointment before brightening again, “Well, darn, then it’s a good thing I brought this to pass the time.” 

He reaches his hand into the denim of his pocket, struggling against the tight fit before brandishing a crumpled joint that had been stuffed away inside. You sit up with him and laugh in your throat as you watch him clumsily try to straighten it back out. The pink muscle of his tongue peeks out past the seam of his lips as he rolls the joint over the meat of his thigh like he’s thinning out pasta. Once it’s decent enough to smoke he brings it to his lips and mumbles out around it, “Would you do me the honor?” 

“Why, of course I could, Sir Dumbass-ington,” you tease with a jaunty shake of your head before reaching into your pocket, digging through your miscellaneous trinkets of gum wrappers, a pocket knife, and chapstick, silver flashing with the white light of the moon once you procure the boxy Zippo. There are vulgar engravings along the side, a relic of your father’s time in Vietnam now used to light Edward’s crinkly joint. You flip open the lighter with a satisfying clink, your faces suddenly shrouded in yellow, carving out the hollows and defining the angles of your faces as you lean it towards him. He dips the end of it into the flame, tutting at it while the stark light draws your attention to the soft slant of his nose, the whetted cut of his cheekbones, the hollow of his cupid's bow all puckered out as he sucks at the cigarette. He huffs in a good breath and, with voice strained, he declares, “Fuck, that’s some good shit,” coughing at the end of it as he hits at his chest.

“Well, don’t go hogging it all,” you laugh, reaching for the jay which he passes to you without complaint. Pinched between soft-tipped fingers, eyes closed, you sip at it and let the warmth of oncoming inebriation roam without restraint, the smooth burn of your throat oddly soothing and a relaxant that tames the tense energy within your muscles. You release it, hiccuping a puff of smoke before pushing it out past your lips where it floats up in waves of nihonga-like wisps, curling and uncurling before being swept up by the breeze where it sprints through the needles of pine trees and over the unbothered surface of the lake.

He watches the way the tendrils float past your puckered lips, puffed out in a sensual ‘o’ before they’re consumed by a stupid grin that pushes against the fat of your cheeks and causes your eyes to squint, all too endearing as the last dregs of smoke seep from where they can through the gaps of your teeth. You giggle as you pass it back to him, trying but uncaring of your failure to hide it behind grunts of fake throat clearing. He smiles at you, your incompetent subtlety comical, childish amusement infectious. 

“What’s so funny?” he asks, eyeing the joint for a moment before bringing it to his lips for another deep hit.

“It’s just,” you cut yourself off with another stunted giggle, “I could be eating mushroom risotto in a clean, crimson booth, sipping on champagne while my good ol’ Papa raises his glass and nods his head at me and says,” you deepen your voice and make your features stony, squaring your shoulders and puffing your chest, “‘we’re so proud of you, sweetie’ before tipping his glass back to three ‘hip, hip, hoo-rah’s.” 

As you finish, you gently take the joint from him, savoring the image of the thick appendages cradling it between deft fingers as you bring it to your mouth and inhale, your shoulders rising with the movement, gathering like a frozen rubber band before slackening as the hashish thaws you free. You simper on the exhale, jolting with a few coughs through your nose as you try to cover your smile with your hand, the other examining the unironed creases in the rolling paper, “Instead, I’m smoking a squished joint in the dark, sitting on warm-ish gravel, with you.”

You bring your legs into you, tying your ankles together with the weight of your palm in your criss-crossed position as he settles the heels of his hands back into the rocks to prop himself up. You move into his space, leaning over him as you tilt your head to reach his level and emphasize your question, “Why is that?”

His lips are barely curled in a tempered smile as he takes his turn with the doobie, rolling his lips in to lick at them before clarifying for you, “‘Cause you love me,” a breath of hemp-tainted air, “duh.”

It’s laced with boyish charm, a sort of supercilious confidence that floats along the shreds of his exhaled fumes, the jab washing over him like dribbles of water gliding down the waxy feathers of a duck’s back, flicking his head and sending the droplets flying like diving hawks back into the water. It’s the kind of breezy personality that only draws you closer, impressed by his ability to pick up on the minute insinuations between each line of dialogue, enough to know that all you could ever want is to be near him.

“Oh yeah.” It's spoken as if you really did need the reminder as you smile that dopey smile, the fuzzy, assuaged feeling of the drug settling into that saturated calm in your chest as you finish with grin-impaired words, “that’s right.”

The roach is all but a barely-there nub anymore, leached at until the brown-grey paper and bud are dispersed in speckles of crumbly ash across the lake-beach. Your muddled mind, though preoccupied with your earlier thought of Eddie’s ringed fingers, registers the minimal amount left and compels you to pick it up between index and thumb. Eddie, just as stoned as you, gives easily, the joint falling into your dainty fingers just the same as you mumble, decisively, “I get the last hit.”

Despite having the joint in your hand, you move forward, one hand bracing you as you lean over his torso. His fingers hover around yours, not protective but seemingly as a product of his dazedness. He watches you, taking in the way your lashes brush the hill of your cheek as you close them, the slow-motion way your plush lips wrap around the paper, your cheeks hollowing as you suck. The embers at the end glow a violent crimson before crumbling to the rocks where they burn out into white ash. You hold the smoke in your mouth, your throat burning with the prolonged presence of the joint’s exhaust as you turn to face Eddie, eyes half lidded and mind running on autopilot. You don’t need to ask, he already understands, parting his lips for you as you close in, tilting your head before releasing the smoke into his mouth. You can feel the heat of his face radiating against your cheeks and lips, the tip of your nose brushing along the side of his own. Your lips are less than a centimeter apart, a hair’s width away from brushing as the smoke curls through the space left between you, catching in Eddie’s mouth. 

Once it all leaves you in a hot exhale, you flick the charred butt into the rocks and turn to flop onto your back, the rubble, though dense, cushions you with rounded edges and eroded stone faces, soft to the touch. You relax beside Eddie who does the same, laying back with his arms cushioning his head, having closed his mouth, exhaling the smoke through his nose like Smaug perched above his mountain of treasures. 

He hums, satisfied and made to feel all warm inside, the gentle sound of your exhale accompanying him before he asks, “Wanna play a game?”

That makes you smile; he couldn’t just enjoy the silence, it had to be filled with banter or grandiose speeches or ‘games’ but you decide to bite, amused by him always. 

“Depends,” you sigh, “what game?”

There’s an impish pause where, through the lapse in conversation, you can hear the smirk playing on his lips. 

“Truth or strip?” He turns his head towards you, and you follow, admiring the way his smile seems so uninhibited, roguish with his insinuation. You know it’s in poor taste to tease but you go on anyway.

“Mm,” you pretend to deliberate, pursing your lips from side to side, before giving in. “Okay.” 

His eyes light up with perverted hope, or more so astonishment at your agreement, mouth morphing from an awed slacken jaw to a lopsided grin. He moves to speak but you’re quick in intercepting him, “What do I get when I win?”

It’s back to astonishment, turning to lean on his forearm and gaze down at you, his eyebrows shooting up as he releases a disbelieving chuckle, “When you win?” 

“Mm-hmm.” Undeterred, you go on, trying on his haughty nature for a change, “What do I get?”

“Well, in the incredibly unlikely occurrence that you do win, I’ll…” 

He trails off, huffing a breath up that rouses his bangs, looking towards the sky for an answer strung somewhere in midnight thread, spelling it out for him behind the stars. He must find one there as he turns, benign grin aimed down at you that scrambles your chest with tender feelings that you force yourself to swallow down with a subtle bob of your throat and the added issue of a suddenly dry mouth.

“I’ll buy you that Cure album you’ve been wanting since August, even though the lead singer is a whiny little—”

You press your thumb over his lips, preventing him from finishing.

“I refuse to allow anymore of this Robert Smith slander,” you protest, removing your hand to tuck it back under your head. “You’re just jealous that he’s so attractive without even having to try,” you swoon.

“Careful,” he rolls his eyes at you, teasing, “don’t want any of that lipstick to ruin that pretty face of makeup you’ve got on.” He says this while trailing his index finger over the contour of your jaw, tickling your skin before you squinch up your face and rub your cheek to your shoulder to shoo him away.

“Ya know,” you roll over with a grunt to prop your head up on your hand while you lie on your side, “there’s something sexy about a man confident enough in his masculinity to wear lipstick.”

“Got any on you right now?” He asks, leaning closer, “Wanna test that theory?” He puckers his lips up and makes towards you. You waste no time in intercepting his tirade with your palm, lips connecting with gravel-roughened skin before you push his face away.

Dismissing the way he falls back to the ground dramatically, arms spread, and tongue lolled out as if your push was enough to seriously injure him, you redirect the conversation back to the initial topic.

“Okay, truth or strip,” you remind, mostly speaking to yourself and ruminating on the raunchiness of the idea, puffing a laugh out your nose as you wonder just what may have influenced it. “Seems like someone’s been taking a few too many trips behind the velvet curtain at Family Video but I’ll humor this,” you point a finger at him, raising your brows and lowering your chin as you eye him, “you’re lucky I’m stoned enough to play along.”

You start to hum out your first question before Eddie halts you, “Woah, woah, woah! We didn’t discuss what I’d be getting if I won.”

“Well, the reason we didn’t bring it up is because that’ll never happen,” you say, cheeky grin pushing against your cheeks as you press your finger to his chest where he glances down only to be met with your pointer finger flicking up against his nose. 

He wrinkles his nose before bringing his hand up to rub at it, sniffing when his thumb swipes at it, going on to insist with a nasally filter.

“Well, since you’re in a pandering mood, indulge me.”

“Okay, fine, I guess we can play pretend for a second,” you say with a minx-ish smile before flopping on your back again with an ‘oomph’ rattling up from your throat, dissolving into a hum as you play with your lips. You pull the puffy bottom one down with the tip of your finger before releasing it, the fat bouncing back into place before you speak.

“If you win, I’ll buy you a new pair of Reeboks.”

“What’s wrong with my Reeboks?” He asks incredulously, looking down the length of his body towards his scuffed, dirt-stained sneakers, the stitching all but frayed and loose, the soles uneven with wear. 

“You’ve needed new shoes since March, God knows what you got up to during spring break that you fucked ‘em up so bad.”

He ignores your suggestion and offers up his own, “That just won’t do, how about, instead...” 

He’s tilting his head to look down the length of your body, not lecherously though that wouldn’t be out of the question for Eddie, but almost as an excuse to hide the bashful tinge in his features.

“You let me take you out on a date? A real date. Not movie night but, like, dinner in that crimson booth you wanted with that fucking mushroom rice or whatever.”

“Risotto,” you correct him with an endeared smile.

“Risotto,” he nods.

The words don’t read as pushy, never pushy. Never entitled or expectant, just gleaming with that curious lift in the eyebrows and a hopeful shimmer in his smile. You mirror a similar girlish crinkle in the corner of your eyes, lips pulled at the edges as you speak, kind and gilded with the softest tone.

“Okay.” It’s so merciful that the vowels get swallowed by the click of the consonants.

Coming to an agreement, you sit up, shuffling a bit to sit with your knees brought up and secured with the linking of your hand over your wrist, Eddie following in the silent shift of bodies rattling grey and brown stones.

You sigh a breath through your nose that untenses your shoulders and relieves the pressure in your head a bit, bringing a lazy twitch of your lips as you ask, “Alright, who goes first?”

He flicks at a pebble on the ground, pouting out his bottom lip in thought as it skips in ‘tick, tick, ticks.’ 

“Rock, paper, scissors?” You nod and offer your fist, settled over the platter of your palm, Eddie doing the same before the barely audible pat of your hand against the other indicates a ‘one, two, three, shoot.’ He settles on rock, your gentle palm hovering in paper. You smile and gently drape it over his curled hand before he says, “Alright, fair and square, go ahead.”

You remove your hand as you tuck both under your bum before continuing in an unsure buzz, “Hmm, okay, the grossest place you’ve ever hooked up.”

He blows out a raspberry that trills his lips. “Easy! the men’s bathroom at The Hideout, second to last stall,” he gives easily, no hesitance, “Gotta try harder than that to win.”

It’s his turn and he squints down at the ground as he thinks before shooting his question, “Alright, most recent porn rental.”

You worry your lip, chewing at the corners and tearing at the chapped skin there. It feels too early to cave and for such an inconsequential question no less, but you know that if Eddie found out about the George Michael lookalike tape hidden between your box spring and your mattress right now, he would never, in a million years, ever let it go, so you figure you can spare a layer in favor of the never-ending humiliation you’d suffer.

You huff as you lean down to begin tugging at the laces of your boots but he tuts, “Shoes don’t count.” 

You scoff, “Since when?”

“We’ll be here forever if every unimportant article of clothing counts!” He explains with his arms spread at his side, dramatics on full display.

“You got a hot date sometime soon?” You counter with a lifted brow.

“Look, I’ll take mine off too so it’s fair,” he concedes, pulling at the laces of his ruined shoes. You sigh before continuing to pull your boots off, tossing them aside. You roll your socks off as well, tucking them inside your shoes so they don’t get lost in the dark.

Your toes flex, curling and extending without being encumbered, taking a moment to embrace the feeling under the pads of your feet, savoring the warmth that emanates from the erosion-softened stones. The rocks have been baked by the rays of the midday sun, cooling now that she’s hidden behind the jagged horizon of pine trees. Your fingers tease the hem of your sweater, ticking over the threads before you grip it and pull it over your head. Your modesty remains intact, though, by the white underlayer you wear. You spit your next question out with hardly any hesitation, “Last thing you masturbated to.”

He blanches under the white light of the moon, lips splitting apart. The momentary surprise on his face is colored by the flushing of his features and the attempted diversion of his throat clearing where he points his finger and eyes you with a look that reads ‘well, just you listen here…’ before it fizzles out as he decides against it. He compresses his lips, shaking his head and sighing as he starts to shrug both his vest and his leather jacket off, laying them over the rocks, the water creeping close to one of the splayed sleeves, teasing the faded and worn-out leather. Your lips curl, impressed for having got to him. 

It goes on like this for 20 minutes, invasive question after invasive question while garments continue to be strewn across the lakeside— belts undone with clinking clasps, buttons popped, shirts tossed to the side— until you’re both dressed only in your underwear. You’d think you’d both have the idea to be embarrassed being so exposed to the other but the both of you find it no different than when you go to the public pool dressed in bikini and swim shorts, though, to be fair, the fabric is much thinner than the nylon of your stringy swimwear and the way his milky skin glows under the celestial curtain of May is much different than when it burns in June. 

It’s Eddie’s turn as soon as he shucks off his black jeans, pale white chest and slender legs displayed with each clumsy wiggle of his feet. After nearly tripping twice over the denim, he grabs the garment and yanks them off from where they’re tangled with his toes, aggressively attempting to chuck them away but, with all his exertion, they flop to the floor with a pitiful ‘plop.’ You snort at his exaggerated display, laughing as he sits back down, leaning over on his elbow like a French muse lazed out on a chaise sofa; sultry, alluring, calling out like a siren with the way he exhibits the entire length of his body unabashedly. His breaths are heavy— that’s what draws your attention back to the present— mixed with his shared laughter as he trains his challenging gaze on you, all suppressed titterings hidden behind loose lips, aiming to get you on the same level as him; one item left. 

“Thought you were clever with that last one, hmm? Alright, what sounds do you make when you’re doing it?”

You laugh a choked, disbelieving noise at the audacity of the question, “You think you’re gonna pull a fast one on me, you perv?”

“Answer the question, why don’t you,” he implores, voice unconcerned with your accusation, that obnoxiously cocksure grin backing you into a corner. 

You narrow your eyes at him, scrunching your nose in petulant defiance before you falter in a histrionic groan of peevishness, rocking back while your legs are crisscross before leaning back forward to tell him, “I’m not gonna give you the satisfaction.”

What’s supposed to be stern becomes watered down with the way a smile is twisting your attempted snarl and Eddie remains just as calm as before, eyes becoming thin with the joy he gets from seeing you like this, all frisky and playfully mad at him. Oh, and half-naked, that makes him very happy.

You sigh, giving in to his hair-brained ploy as you reach back to undo the hook of your bra, fingers gliding over scratchy lace trimming and the creamy texture of the satin as you release the bond. The underwear falls limp over your chest, no longer supported and, as Eddie watches on, eyes vacantly focusing on the expanse of silken flesh beneath your collarbones as his tongue tempts the chapped skin of his lips, you stop yourself from sliding it the rest of the way over your arms. 

“Turn around,” you order, eyes stern.

“What?” He exclaims like someone has just committed a heinous wrong against him. “Come on! It’s just getting good.

“We never said anything about exposing ourselves,” you defend, maintaining your resolve. “Now turn around!” He grumbles but complies, scooting over the gravel until his back is to you and his hands are covering his eyes for good measure. He can hear the way the article flops to the floor as you toss it away, the atmospheric noise of your fidgeting and shifting is euphoric white sound to his ears as he imagines the way your ungainly arms and legs move with your undress. It’s a few more moments of shuffling before silence is restored.

“Okay,” it’s spoken with an underlying quiver, “You can look.”

He turns back to you with some awkward swiveling and finds you with your arms crossed over your chest, your knees brought up for extra coverage as your ankles cross over each other to protect his eyes from your area below. Your face is sheepish, lips twitching in anxious occupation as your eyes focus on your lacquered toenails to keep from finding his own stare.

His face morphs into, what was originally a giddied smile into a sympathetic gaze, features concerned with your sudden timidity. “We don’t have to keep playing, you know?” He tells you, more occupied with your comfort than any boyish fantasy.

“No, no, I’m okay, I swear.” You look up at him wide eyed before shaking your head to convey your fortitude. You straighten your back and take a breath to steady yourself, your once skittish expression softening as you lean closer to him and confide, “I trust you, Eddie.”

He beams at you, touched by your credence in him. “Not to mention, I totally need to smoke you in this game and crush that ego of yours.”

That amorous radiance at the center of his chest is smothered by your taunt and he rolls his eyes as he urges you to continue, “Yeah, yeah, now are you going to ask me a question or are you going to keep being a big sap?”

You giggle with your next query, “Okay, how big are you? Down there?” 

He grins at the question and raises his brows, “Didn’t your mother ever tell you that curiosity killed the cat?”

You match his overdone eye roll before pressing him, “Just answer the question.”

He maintains his Cheshire-ish impression as he thinks on it before admitting, “A bit over six inches. Something like that.”

“Mmm,” you hum, a moderate expression relaxing over your features as you shoot him a level headed grin, “‘something like that?’”

“Don’t believe me?” He challenges, eyebrows shooting up in his bluff.

“Oh, I believe you,” you giggle at the tail end of your words before caving to your levity, laughing through your punchline, “believe that you’re full of shit!”

He acts mock-offended, choking on his words as he scoffs and sputters, placing a hand over his bare chest, “I have just about the right mind to lose on purpose and wipe that so-sure smile off your face.”

“Please do, that record will look absolutely lovely with the rest of my collection.”

“Hmm,” he twists his lips as he eyes you with a squinted stare, “unluckily for you, I’m of the least sound mind right now so the game’s still on, sweetheart.” It’s a dare spoken as he invades your space, so close that you can feel the heat of his words over your cheeks, his eyes darting to your lips with the endearment. Your smug exterior hardly falters as you counter, “And I still plan on winning.”

He leans back, licking the enamel of his canine as he lets his eyes rove over your nearly exposed figure before asking, “Your biggest insecurity.”

Your pleased act falls away at the question as you roll your lips in, scrunching up the side of your face in displeasure before you figure that the vulnerability of the answer is less of an expense than being fully exposed in the dead of night with your best friend.

“Maybe how much I need the attention and validation of others.” It looks like admitting that causes you physical pain as your face is contorted into all sorts of wincing motifs. 

“It’s embarrassing to have to say that out loud,” you whisper into your knees as you lean forward into them, the joints obstructing your lips as you go on. “Especially to you, ‘cause, like, nothing gets to you.”

“Hey, woah,” he stops you in your tracks at the inaccurate perception of him, “Who said nothing ever gets to me?”

You cock your head at him as you send him a look that asks ‘really?’

“C’mon, Pigeon, you know me better than that,” he encourages as he gently knocks your leg with his fist, rocking you with the impact. “That whole standing on tables and dungeon master shit, it’s just a front.”

You bite your lip at the admission, suddenly feeling inadequate with your assumption.

“I mean, yeah, most of it’s like one ear out the other but when it’s something real, that’s the kinda shit that hits deep.”

“You just seem so,” you struggle for the words, twisting your hands about before you find it, “Unbothered.”

“Yeah, well, I just do that to impress you,” he laughs at the ground, watching as his pointer finger twiddles with one of his discarded rings over the lining of his jacket.

You smile at his sudden demureness, leaning forward as best as you can with your legs folded up against you to capture his cheek in your hand and lift his gaze to you. He’s got that sudden starstruck look in his eyes, where they go all big and glassy and his beautifully full lips part as he stares up at you like you’ve emerged from the sky, twinkling in moondust and star particles.

“If you shed a tear once and a while when around me, I’d be even more impressed.” You rub your thumb over the thin, discolored skin under his eye, purple and green from lack of rest. The corner of his mouth ticks up as he moves to look down again at his set of jewelry, lengthy lashes kissing the very tops of his cheeks as a warm hue spottily decorates his skin. The movement displaces your hand before you bring it back around your legs, happy with your effect on him; capable of shutting up the biggest attention whore this side of the Mississippi.   

You disrupt the silence with your next question, “If you knew you were to go to sleep tonight and not wake up in the morning, what’s one thing you’d regret not saying?” 

His eyes glow as they flit up to you, taking away from his fiddling before that same reticent smile takes over and you’ve stupefied him once more. He laughs a breathy sound, a bit embarrassed, before he stands up and clears his throat.

“Alright, you know the deal,” his hands are on his hips, still maintaining that underlying sass, “turn around.” 

A giant grin overhauls your features, “I won?” 

“Yeah, you won.” His stare is soft and enamored as he gazes down at you, looking almost delighted to have lost if it meant he was able to see that precious stretch of your lips over your teeth and the choice twinkle in your eyes. “Now turn around.”

You giggle as you tuck your head into your knees, the sound carrying, though muffled, from where you’re burrowed. You can hear the way he balances from one foot to the other while he extricates himself from his final article of clothing, the rocks under his feet clicking with his distributed weight. You shriek as you feel him shoot his boxers at you, scrambling to toss them off of you while he tells you, “Open your eyes, butthead.”

Your tee-heeing filters off into throaty huffs once you’ve gotten the offending item off before looking back at him and falling into a fit all over again. You roll onto your back once you’ve seen him: both hands cupped over his groin to shield your eyes while he fosters a sheepish look over his face, lips curled in. 

You straighten, eyes squinted and smile beaming as you ask him through a mirth-induced rasp, “Can we get a little spin?” You twirl your finger with your request, leaning back on one arm while the other stays wrapped around your chest. He kisses his teeth, huffing through his nose before obliging you, shuffling on his feet to do a full round. That only serves in starting you up again, the sight of his protectively clenched ass sending you into another frenzy of uncontrolled witch-like cackles. 

“Oh, this is rich,” you sigh, wiping an imaginary tear of gaiety away before you settle back into relative calmness. “Well, now that you’ve been thoroughly humiliated, what now? I’ve still got a buzz going.”

His dismayed pout is replaced by a mischievous grin as he looks out to the dock, not all that far from where you’ve planted yourselves, looking back to you with an expression that nearly worries you with how wickedly no-good it is. Before you can even make out the first syllable of your interrogation, he’s booking it, sprinting along the shoreline, twisting his ankles with the way he slides over the insecure beach front. He’s whooping and hollering, screaming ‘aye, aye, aye, aye’ as his feet clomp over the landing before he jumps off the dock in a gangly flurry of limbs, hitting the surface in a crashing splash that manipulates the water that reaches out for your form, so near the waterside.

You gasp in your throat, hurrying to your feet and chasing after him, tripping once or twice over the rocks before you’re planting yourself at the edge of the dock. Leaning over on your hands and knees, you call for him in a voice that tries to maintain still, “Eddie?”

You give him a moment to reappear, eyes flicking over the water to catch sign of him. He doesn’t respond and an unrelenting tension tightens within your stomach as you grow worried, continuing to scan the water in attempts of deciphering his figure through the murky darkness of the lake. 

“Eddie!”

The water opens in front of you with his reappearance, but you barely have any time to feel relief as he leaps up, the feeling taken over by a looming dread as he grabs you by your biceps and pulls you over the edge. You squeal as you tumble to the water before the sound is swallowed whole once you’ve collided with the surface. It’s dark and near unnavigable and the only way you find the bottom is by flailing your legs, shooting yourself up once your feet are able to catch a boulder. You scramble to the surface, sputtering a choked breath between a brief coughing fit. Through the waterlogged fuzziness of your hearing, you can make out Eddie’s booming laugh. You push your sopping hair out of your eyes to regain your sight, though it’s also distorted by water droplets that cling to your lashes, and lunge at him with angry fists and a peeved growl. He’s too swift for you, though, as he snatches your wrists before they can make impact, but what you can’t do with your body you’ll do with your words.

“You ass! I thought you’d gotten hurt and– and you– urgh!” He’s still snickering at the way your cheeks puff out with your labored breathing and how your dampened hair has turned you into what resembles an unhappily drenched cat, but he tries to damper them at the sight of your flaming temper. 

“I’m sorry,” he attempts to apologize through the laughter, but you have none of it as you try to pull yourself from his hold, grunting as you yank your arms away from him, but he just ensnares you as he wraps his arms around your waist to keep you nearby. He tries to reason with you, his voice falling into a softer, more understanding tone once he acknowledges your distress, “Hey, I’m sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.” 

He’s still smiling, looking down at your tetchy expression while a hand emerges from the water to brush your hair away from your face, petting you before coming back to hold your cheek in his massive hand. You ease with his touch and quit your huffing, though your eyes are still shadowed by the knitting of your brows, darting all across his face, so near and framed by brown, matted strands, made ebony by the lack of light, that stick in tangled swirls across the planes of his face. His bangs drip, disturbing his eyes as he blinks to keep the water out, the droplets landing over his nose and lips.

It’s then that you register the warmth of his hand between your shoulder blades, the heat of his sturdy chest against the plushness of your breasts, nipples pert and skin pebbled from the chill that ran through you from being dunked under. Even further, below that, where you’re still covered by now sopping cotton, you can feel the thick prod of something neat the junction where your vulva meets your thigh and your heart stutters, breath hitching and, suddenly, all you can do is look at Eddie with the same desperate expression he's giving you. His lips are parted, eyes clouded with lust as you take in the clumped length of his eyelashes that flutter with troubling water, the darkness of his brown irises, consumed by want and arousal, the beautiful slope of his nose as it catches the light of the moon, and the glossy plump pink of his lips that draws you closer. It’s all you can do to lean in at the same time he does and press your lips against his and, fuck, if this isn’t what they talk about in John Hughes movies then you don’t know what is. 

It just feels… right. Like the final piece of a puzzle clicking into place or the final cassette needed to complete your favorite artist’s discography sliding against all the others on the shelf, leaving no gaps, slotting so perfectly together. You hum into his mouth, dragging your hands up to wrap around his neck, pulling away, not to exchange any words but to tilt your heads to the other side, deepening the smush of your lips. He can hardly contain his yearning as he does his best to bring himself as close to you as possible, nose digging into the softness of your cheek, teeth clipping the gummy flesh of your lips. His tongue begs your approval as it glides against the seam of your lips and you waste no time in allowing him entry, your muscles meeting in the middle, sliding against each other as you taste the herbal tang of weed on him though you’re unsure if there's any delineation between your taste and his as you suck at his bottom lip.

Eddie detaches from the mess of your kiss, saliva stringing between the two of you before it breaks, falling into the mix of water. He connects to the height of your cheek, placing a romantic kiss there that lasts what feels like forever as you sigh, closing your eyes as you take the wrist of the hand that he uses to hold you like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever been lucky enough to touch. He starts trailing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw and neck, nipping at the delicate skin occasionally between his love-pecks, laving his tongue over them when you shiver against him.

“Eddie,” you keen in a needy cry, the syllables soft and aching as he holds you to him tight, never letting you dip below the surface as his fingers dimple your skin with his relentless grip as he grows excited. He separates from where he was lavishing your skin in kisses and soothing licks to mutter, “Fuck, I’ve wanted you for so long.” It sounds lost, like he’s not speaking entirely to you, almost talking to himself, like he can hardly believe he’s got you, right here, wanting him back. 

“Eddie.” You draw his attention as you thread your fingers into his dripping head of hair, begging, “I need you, Eddie.”

“Fuck, I got you, Pidge,” he pacifies, connecting your lips again, murmuring into your mouth, “‘M always gonna take care of you.” 

You cry against him as his hands drift lower to your thighs where he urges you up, hiking your body higher and dragging you against his chest as he carries you, beginning to find purchase on the algae-slick rocks to bring the two of you to shore. He lays you down over his jacket and vest, supporting your head as he rests you there, protecting your back from the gravel, unconcerned with the safety of the treated hide as your more than damp skin connects with the lining and soaks it through. 

He’s clumsy, all adolescent vigor and enthusiasm, swallowing every sound you give him, complimenting every curve of your body with the hollow of his palm, tracing the contours of your figure with the calloused pads of his fingers. You’re no better, dragging him closer by the roots of his mane, scratching along the muscle and bone of his back, breathing wanton noises and arching into the divots of his form. When he leaves your mouth, you breathily whimper, feeling his amused chuckle rumble against the tender skin of your neck as he pays the planes of your body all the attention they could ever hope for. 

He licks the protrusion of your clavicle, kisses the notch between the bones before lifting himself with his arms and takes in the luscious sight of you; skin dewy, gathered droplets glowing pearly like the diamond stars above, lips swollen and spit-shined thanks to him, breasts heaving with the exertion of your lungs. His hand lifts to bring it over your stomach, dragging his thumb from your navel up between the line made by your ribs before he takes your breast into his palm and massages it. His eyes are foggy, unable to focus on anything other than the way the fat and tissue bulge through the gaps in his fingers. He’s brought back by the touch of your fingers ghosting over his cheek and brushing back a clump of hair, tucking it behind his ear. 

His eyes lift to yours, catching sight of your adoring smile made real by the way he worships you, touching you like you’re art. The corners of his lips lift in a sheepish grin, made embarrassed by the way he's been caught.

“So much for looking away.”

That has you throwing your head back, releasing such a sweet peel of laughter that forces Eddie to lay a kiss between the valley of your breasts, chuckling along with you, before taking you by surprise when he latches his mouth to your nipple. It makes your laughter blend with an approving gasp and a resulting groan, your fingers encouraging him with scratches to his scalp, the sensation making him moan over the skin, providing delicious vibrations that have you releasing gorgeous sounds, encouraging you to roll your still-clothed hips against his thick, hot, hard-on. You’re glad he bestows you with enough mercy as to not have you eat your words because he definitely is something like that. 

With a particular flick of your pelvis, the cushy head of his cock catches on your folds through the scratchy material of your underwear and he releases you with a pop, head tipping up as his eyes snap shut and he releases a stuttering breath.

You bring his head down for a kiss, soothing the scrunched nature of his expression before he separates with a huff, burying his head into the crook of your neck while he hugs your body close to him, asking, begging, “I need to be inside you.”

The desperation is enough to have you responding, just as wrecked, “Please, Eddie.”

He untangles himself at your go-ahead, leaning back on his haunches as he takes your legs and admires the way the soaked fabric of your underwear clings to your puffy lips, the white of the material leaving nothing to be imagined. He traces over the hem of the leg opening with his thumb, your coarse hair peeking out and tickling the pad of his finger before he brings it to slide through your folds over the cotton. You jolt and whine as he travels from your seeping hole up to your aching clit, rubbing it in caressing circles before he takes your legs and lifts them, closing them together and placing them over his shoulder so he can drag the garment over the length of your legs. He savors the way it guides his eyes over your perfect skin, all that’s been exposed and what hasn’t before he drags them over your feet, where you kick them off. He chuckles at your fervor before taking the item and tossing it away. He kisses the muscle of your calf, eyes still locked on yours before he takes your legs and spreads them once more. At the sight of your exposed cunt, all glittery and soaked, he releases a low groan, leaning down to lay a kiss just above your thatch of hair.

You arch your lower back to present yourself to him and remind him of what you’ve been begging for, mewling in an insistent, pettish way. He straightens a bit, leaning forward on his left arm as he gathers his ruddy and leaking length into his hand and pumps it once and then twice before rubbing the weeping head through your slick.

“Don’t worry, baby, m’gonna treat you so good,” he assures.

With his promise made, the head of his cock presses into you and you squeak. The sound falls into a satisfied groan, melding with the heavy grunt Eddie releases at the breach. “Shit, you’re so fucking tight," he rushes out, "and damn warm, too, holy shit.”

He leans over you again, elbows supporting his weight, and with his shift, his cock buries deeper within you, making you cry out as he nudges against your sensitive velvet walls, the thick veins catching against your nerves and making your body sing.

Given a moment for both of you to catch your breath, Eddie starts to rock into your wet heat, slow gentle thrusts matching the rhythm of the lake as the incoming waves lick at his knees. They’re yawning and slow, pitching both of your bodies with each snap of his hips against yours. Your arousal coats him and leaks out with each retreat of his hips, your creamy release raveling your mess of hair and squelching with each kiss of your pelvic bones. 

Your noises mingle together in high pitched keens and deep, gravelly groans and curses. You hug him tight, bodies mashed together as your arms hug him from under, nails fighting to keep him close to you as they scrape along his skin and leave glowing irritated markings where they pass while your legs lock at the ankles over his ass to keep his hips from venturing too far from your own. 

His head hangs low above your chest, watching as he exits and enters in and out of you, listening to the wet slap that disappears with the gentle crash and retreat of the waves. His bangs, still clumped with moisture, tease the skin of your breasts, dragging up and down with each of his thrusts, the chill droplets of water that dangle like crystal beads from the ends causing a rash of goosebumps to spread. His breathing is heavy, panting and gulping thick as he moves with you, fucked out on your pussy and the salt of your skin on his tongue when he kisses your chest. You watch as the muscles of his shoulders sway with him, his pale, near translucent skin, speckled with beads of water that you can't help but lean down and lick, kissing, biting every inch of skin you can reach, falling back once he ruts forward and prods at that spot that has your belly tightening and your cunt clamping over him.

“Shit, Eddie,” you gasp, the sound muffled to your own ears, taken over by the chirp of crickets and cooing owls, the croak of sleeping frogs that burrow in muddied soil and fall to rest, their heartbeats slowing with the chill of the earth. The head of his cock keeps tapping against that patch of nerves that has your body shaking and you plead with him, through the way you tighten your legs around his slender hips, to move faster and to hit harder. He understands your subtle request and delivers you firmer, quickened thrusts that have each one of your nerve endings chiming like a silver bell, feeling surrounded by his adoration of you with each kick of his hips that has you ringing in ‘ah, ah, ah’s.

He falls over you, unable to hold himself up anymore while also craving the complete touch of your skin as he winds his arms around your waist and presses his cheek to yours. His hold on you forces you still against him and intensifies the reach of his cock, his dick ramming into you and making your voice jump with each of his pounding thrusts.

The sound of him leaving and then sliding right back home, the clapping of skin on skin is lost to the night while your ramblings of how good he feels and how much you care for him, every word is captured just as every peck against your skin is memorized in a fizzing prickle against your flesh and every sigh and grunt is cataloged in the back of your mind; this is how he sounds, this is the rate of his breathing, this is how he loves.

The thought overwhelms you in a way that excites your senses, suddenly hyper aware of all of the little details: the smell of his cheap cologne invading your nostrils in an intoxicating burn, the feel of his hair, coated in product, made crunchy with hairspray and tickling your cheeks and your lips, the way he fucks into you in the softest, most adoring way. It’s the way he holds you and the way that he protects you, the way that he breaths your name like they’re the most essential set of syllables he’ll ever utter that makes you feel so good that you think you can cry and it’s the prick of your tear ducts and the sniffle caught in your throat that ensures it.

The way he’s moving inside you, you’re tumbling to that glowing end, breathing growing tighter, and Eddie can feel it. He can feel it in the way your skin is hot to the touch despite the late spring temperature and the way your cunt squeezes and chokes his cock every time he drives it back into you.  

“I’m so close,” you whisper into his ear, voice trembling, and he growls, the aggressive noise dissolving into a whimper as he lifts his head to look down at you. His eyes are lidded and the weight of his bottom lip hangs as he readies a strained response that gets caught in his throat.

He notices, then, the streaks along your cheeks, illuminated like liquid silver against your skin and his eyebrows grow taut as he reaches to hold your face and wipe at the water there. “You okay, Pidge?”

His thrusts begin to slow, afraid he may have hurt you, but you refuse to allow that, tightening your legs and securing your arms over his shoulders as you call for him to continue.

“No, no, don’t stop, please.” He returns to his set pace, and you moan for him in a blissed-out haze, turning to kiss his palm over every line, pecking the swirled pads of his fingertips and loving the feel of the grooves against your lips. 

“I’m okay, swear, Eddie," you gasp, head tilting back as you get lost in the heavenly sensation of his cockhead snatching against your walls. "Just feels so good.” You look up at him with sultry eyes that implore him to keep fucking into you and the sight of you all puppy-eyed has his abdomen clenching and his breath catching.

“Fuck,” he chokes.

You whine at the wrecked crack and desperation that laces his voice, reaching your hand up to pull his head down and kiss him, muffling your cries into his mouth as his groans echo within yours. His thrusts grow erratic and unmeasured, and you thrill at his increased speed, breath hitching with the way his thumb travels down your body to rub speedy circles into your clit, each flick causing fireworks to erupt behind your eyelids.

You flinch as you cum, the warmth in your stomach releasing in a white-hot wave of pleasure that has you shaking with the force of it, crying Eddie’s name as it springs like a bound coil finally allowed to relax. With the spasming of your pussy he has to pry himself away from you and pull out, fisting his cock in hurried tugs until he spills all over your stomach, painting your soft skin in streaks of his release.

You hum at the feeling of his warm cum coating you, finding it comforting as you draw him closer, cooing at him and holding his face in your hands as he finishes in stuttering waves before he falls over you, careful not to crush you under his weight. You find the smear of his finish between you not unpleasant and neither does he it seems as he negates it and releases a contented sigh with his head buried into the furnace of your neck, wrapping his arms under you to hug you tight.

You smile at his affection, nuzzling your nose into the side of his head, sighing with him before he admits, slightly slurred, “Fuck, you’re so fucking good.”

His profession has you cradling his head closer and squishing your nose deeper into his forest of hair, smiling like an idiot as you only chuckle in return.

You smile, kissing his head, before murmuring into his locks, “Not so bad yourself.”

You can feel his smile against your neck before he kisses it, and you giggle at his tranquil display of satisfaction.

“But don’t think I’ve forgotten; you still owe me Head on the Door,” you remind while sniffing up the leftover snot in your nose and wiping at your eyes with the heels of your palms. He extricates his face out of his little hovel and looks down at you with that troublesome glimmer in his eyes.

“I mean, may be a little hard, I’ll have to take down the whole door, but I’ll give it a try.”

“Eddie!” You chastise as he barks a booming laugh that has his stomach rumbling against your own. 

“Aw, c’mon, I thought my overpowering sex appeal would wipe that weirdo from your thoughts completely!” He groans in faux disappointment.

You giggle at his theatrics, “Nope, you better count your days because as soon as Robert Smith accepts me as his second wife, your bags are packed.”

He whines as he lays his head beside yours, cheek pressed to the scratchy denim as he moans, “You’re so mean to me.”

You pet his drying hair over his shoulder before pecking a kiss to his mouth, “It’s only ‘cause I love you.”

He hums a brief laugh, “Oh yeah, that’s right.”

[k9offline]

🦴 INTRO

last edited: 22/08/24

Welcome to my kin blog! Heres some stuff to get to know me, my identity & my blog. I'd prefer if you read this before following me, but im not ur dad. Just know i block freely.

ABOUT ME

🍁 You can call me Red! Or my real name, if you know it. Im an autistic 16 year old guy (he/it) and i identify mostly as a canine cladotherian— But i have other identities. Im also goth & scenemo, which isnt important but i wanted to say it lmao

🍁 I am brazilian american (1st generation) but ive never been to the USA despite this, and i am self taught in english so im sorry if i fuck up 💀 im also learning french though i heavily dislike it.

🍁 I have a mate and he is the goat (hes a cat actually) and he does not post at all but you should still follow him @vampiresvanity

🍁 I love getting new mutuals!! please ask to be my mutual i probably will never say no. and feel free to dm me as long as youre under 25

🍁 i follow from @120red

MORE

fandoms: homestuck, warrior cats, furry, scott pilgrim, pokemon, etc

games: wolfquest, planet zoo, the wolf among us, rdr2, transformice, stardew valley, brawl stars

books: dracula, frankenstein, owls of ga'hoole, wings of fire, watership down

music: my chemical romance, modern baseball, lapfox trax, pierce the veil, insane clown posse, korn, the cure, scary bitches, s3rl, yaelokre, sublime, etc

movies & shows: wolfwalkers, how to train your dragon, wolfblood, MTV downtown, invader zim, the lion king, oliver & company, bunnicula, animaniacs, sweet tooth, etc

collectibles: littlest pet shop, charlie bears, plushies, feathers, crystals, model horses, random ass trinkets

IDENTITY

╰┈➤ KEY:

★ = spiritual

☆ = psychological

✮ = physical

𖤐 = all of the above

✦ = heartype

✰ = copinglink

? = still figuring it out

🥩 Dhole (Cuon Alpinus) 𖤐

🥩 Wolf (Canis Lupus) 𖤐?

↳ 🦴 Sea Wolf

↳ 🦴 Yellowstone Wolf

🥩 Wolfdog (Canis Lupus x Canis Lupus Familiaris) ☆✮

🥩 Werewolf ☆✮

🥩 American Crow (Corvus brachyrhynchos) ✦

🥩 Dog (Canis Lupus Familiaris) ?

↳ 🦴 English Cocker Spaniel ✦

↳ 🦴 Border Collie 𖤐

🥩 Black Flying Fox (Pteropus alecto) ✰

Im also dave strider from homestuck and fan from inanimate insanity but i do not talk about it much here

BLOG

this blog is where i post mostly about alterhumanity! this may be my experiences, tips for others, aesthetic shit and bla bla bla. its mostly just a space for me to be open about it.

WILL BLOCK: antikin, anti agere/petre, proshippers & comshippers, zoos, kink/nsfw accounts

THIN ICE: kin-for-fun, non alterhumans in general

BYF: i curse a lot. i change my pfp based on the 'type i feel most connected with. thats practically it lol

TAGS

#info :: information about me/my blog

#favs :: favorite posts

#asks :: answering asks

#howls :: stuff about alterhumanity

#barks :: random unimportant posts

#wags :: stuff that made me happy

#wholewolf-reblogs :: reblogs

#my art :: drawings i make

#stuffs :: misc things i make

#moodboards :: moodboards. duh

#home :: hearthomes & nature pics

#me if u even care :: 'type pics lol

pixel gifs by @bugsb1te

[datcloudboi]

List of Video Games Turning 10 Years Old in 2024

Alien: Isolation

Assassin's Creed: Rogue (the one where you play as an Assassin turned Templar.)

Assassin's Creed: Unity (the one set during the French Revolution.)

Atelier Escha & Logy: Alchemists of the Dusk Sky

Azure Striker Gunvolt

The Banner Saga

Bayonetta 2

The Binding of Isaac: Rebirth

BioShock Infinite: Burial at Sea (the DLC where you go back to Rapture)

A Bird Story (a sort of spin-off of "To the Moon")

BlazBlue: Chrono Phantasma

Borderlands: The Pre-Sequel! (is this a sequel to 1 or a prequel to 1? I forgor)

Bravely Default (in North America)

Broken Sword 5: The Serpent's Curse

Call of Duty: Advanced Warfare (the one with K*vin Sp*cey)

Captain Toad: Treasure Tracker

Castlevania: Lords of Shadow 2 (to date, the last new Castlevania game to release)

Child of Light

The Crew (going offline at the end of March)

D4: Dark Dreams Don't Die (a wonderfully strange game from the guy that made Deadly Premonition)

Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc (in North America)

Danganronpa 2: Goodbye Despair (in North America)

Dark Souls II

Deception IV: Blood Ties

Demon Gaze

Diablo III: Reaper of Souls

Disney Infinity 2.0

Divinity: Original Sin (from the team that would go on to make Baldur's Gate 3)

Donkey Kong Country: Tropical Freeze

Dragon Age: Inquisition (the winner of GOTY at the very first TGAs)

Drakengard 3

Earth Defense Force 2025 (EDF! EDF! EDF!)

The Evil Within (from the creative director of Resident Evil)

Fable Anniversary

Fairy Fencer F

Far Cry 4

Freedom Planet

Guilty Gear Xrd Sign

Hyrule Warriors

Inazuma Eleven (in North America. And digital only.)

Infamous: Second Son (as well as its expansion, First Light)

Kirby: Triple Deluxe

The Last of Us Remastered (just one year after the original version came out...)

The Legend of Korra (the game from PlatinumGames that you can't buy anymore)

Lego Batman 3: Beyond Gotham

Lego The Hobbit

The Lego Movie Videogame

Lethal League (from the team that would go on to make Bomb Rush Cyberfunk)

Lightning Returns: Final Fantasy XIII (the third and final chapter of the Final Fantasy XIII trilogy)

Lisa: The Painful (yes, really)

LittleBigPlanet 3

Lords of the Fallen (not to be confused with Lords of the Fallen, which came out in 2023)

Mario Golf: World Tour

Mario Kart 8 (the original version)

Metal Gear Solid: Ground Zeroes (the prologue to Metal Gear Solid V: The Phantom Pain, which came out 18 months later)

Middle-Earth: Shadow of Mordor

Might & Magic X: Legacy

Murdered: Soul Suspect (it's like Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective, but not as good)

Natural Doctrine

Oddworld: New 'n' Tasty! (a from the ground up remake of the first Oddworld game from 1997)

Pac-Man and the Ghostly Adventures 2 (yes, it got a sequel. I don't know how or why.)

Persona 4 Arena Ultimax

Persona Q: Shadow of the Labyrinth

Pokemon Omega Ruby & Pokemon Alpha Sapphire

Professor Layton and the Azran Legacy (the last time that Professor Layton himself was the protagonist. At least, until the New World of Steam comes out)

Professor Layton vs. Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney

Pushmo World

Risen 3: Titan Lords

Sacred 3

Samurai Warriors 4

Shadowrun: Dragonfall

Shantae and the Pirate's Curse (the 3rd one)

Sherlock Holmes: Crimes and Punishments

Shovel Knight (yes, really)

Skylanders: Trap Team (the 4th one)

Sniper Elite III

Sonic Boom: Rise of Lyric

Sonic Boom: Shattered Crystal

South Park: The Stick of Truth

Steins;Gate (in North America)

Strider (the one from Double Helix)

Sunset Overdrive

Super Smash Bros. for Wii U and Nintendo 3DS (or Smash 4 for short)

Tales of Xillia 2

Tales of Hearts R

The Talos Principle

Theatrhythm Final Fantasy: Curtain Call

Thief (the reboot)

This War of Mine

Toukiden: The Age of Demons

Transformers: Rise of the Dark Spark (this game merged the storyline of the War for/Fall of Cybertron games with the storyline of the Michael Bay movies. I’m not joking)

Transistor

Valiant Hearts: The Great War

The Vanishing of Ethan Carter

The Walking Dead: Season Two

Wasteland 2

Watch Dogs

The Witch and the Hundred Knight

The Wolf Among Us (sequel this year!)

Wolfenstein: The New Order

Yaiba: Ninja Gaiden Z

Yoshi's New Island

[moustacherie]

Another IS OmniMech!? This time a Strider -- it's like a Javelin, but even more so. This particular paintjob is nothing special, just more of the Arkab theme that's been touched on in previous posts. The model, however... This is the Strato Minis "Reiver" from their Retrobots line. Technically, it's made for their HardWar game, but c'mon. We all know what this guy is meant to be. Wink wink nudge nudge. Seriously, those guys made some amazing battletech proxies, and I hate hate hate to use the past tense, but their webstore has been mostly emptied out due to a corporate restructuring as they seek out an owner for their IP. Best of luck to them, but their stuff may, for now, be unobtanium.

Finally got one of these guys done. The Charger, patron saint of brass-balled Mechwarriors everywhere.... or maybe you're just on punishment detail. The PGI design that they used for MWO and MW5, of which this is, is just so iconic that it pains me to see the way CGL went for their new plastic Charger coming out next year.

Nothing special to say about the paint job except that Basilicanum Grey may be a bit too dark for a Legion of Vega paint scheme. Let's talk about that BASE, though. Not to toot my own warhorn too much, but damn I'm proud of it. Crackle paint on two sides, layered buildup of technical paint for the riverbed and banks, drybrushing shades of beige for highlights, ProAcryl pale ivory down the riverbed and then a mix of blue and green AMMO Crystal Acrylics (bit heavier on the green than I intended), gloss varnish on that, then 2mm Gamers Grass tufts mixed with terrain flock lets the scene just bloom.

[happyely2]

Pairing: Portuguese D. Ace x Fem!Reader

Rating: 18+ | The rating will be red this time, so if you are a minor skip this reading or highlight your age in your bio.| sex scenes, cuddles, and much more very explicit.

Summary: 31 prompts for 31 days of October. Life on Moby Dick is always hectic and has become more so since Ace boarded this ship and became part of the family.

✒️Prompts taken from the contest (even if I don't participate) organized by the Italian Fanwriter page. I only translated the prompts into English, I hope you like it.✒️

🌊Writober PumpSea🌊 #day 6 - Saltiness

The island you found was desolate.

A desolate paradise just for you.

It took a couple of days of sailing with the medium of Ace and so much coffee to keep him awake, but in the end you managed to get to the island where you would have spent a couple of days just for you. You only talked to WhiteBeard about it, showing him that you had come into possession of a Loge Pose and a map during one of your last raids on an opposing ship.

And the old man gave you permission to go and explore the island in question, and he also told you to call every once in a while so that everyone would not worry.

So you left, backpacks and supplies for the journey and at dawn you were already at sea.

"Ace look at that crystal clear water!" You said by taking off your sandals and dipping them in the water while the Strider slowed down, you had found a natural inlet that created a sort of open-air cave and a small white sandy beach waiting for you.

According to the map that was the only point through which you could access the island or you had to climb a rocky wall and walk around the rocks.

"We gotta anchor the Strider, be careful, all right?" Ace said stroking your hair and then taking a top to throw on the rocks next to it to tow it to shore.

You nodded, you took off your clothes, and you stayed in your bathing suit, you took Ace’s dagger, and then you dived into the water, it was pretty deep, and the bottom was full of corals and fish that you didn’t seem to mind.

You went deeper to catch some fish and start exploring the surroundings to understand the map directions.

You stayed underwater until the Strider’s shadow disappeared, and only then did you decide to surface with the small loot you had procured.

"So what?" Ace was on the beach, had already set a fire and with fallen trees he had created benches on which to sit and had begun to prepare the tent.

"Look, I caught a lot of fish!" you said by showing him your loot and he laughed and left a kiss on your cheek.

"I’ll start cooking them, it’ll take a while if you want to take another bath you can." He said as a snap of his fingers lit the fire. You nodded and went back into the water, using the rocks to dive in and start looking for other useful information. The bottom was full of sand, with rocks and corals at least five meters high, swimming in it was quite easy and even the passages themselves were very easy. There didn’t seem to be any dangerous predators.

A good yellowfin fish walked by and started following them.

It was better to stock them up because you had travelled light.

You went out a couple of hours later from the water, Ace had dedicated himself to cleaning the fish and had him cooking on the fire, he had also been so careful to take off the bone.

You hung the rest of your loot on a branch so as not to put it on the ground and you lay down on the tablecloth that one guy had prepared for you to dry in the sun.

A hand on your back made you smile, Ace had sat next to you, with food ready, two giant bowls of rice and fish in hand.

You tied your wet hair and sat next to Ace to enjoy the shade and the light sea breeze that he had taken to blow.

"How was the water?"

"Beautiful, you don’t know how many corals I’ve seen of different colors." You responded by leaning on him and eating your meal: "No predators, no small sharks, no moray eels, or they’re somewhere else or I don’t know." You said biting your meal.

Ace laughed and after a while he took the map you brought.

"At least that makes things easier for us. The treasure should be here, sorry to make you do all the work." He said Ace by finishing his meal and placing the bowl on a rock near you and carefully observing the designs and directions that were present on the parchment.

"Don’t worry Honey, sometimes it’s right that I do something too, usually you do everything." You kissed him on the shoulder and Ace grinned and lay down with you in the afternoon sun to get some rest.

You have fallen asleep close to each other with the background noise of the sea.

Until the Lumacofano started playing insistently and made you wake up suddenly, Ace took him and the calm and calm voice of Marco interrupted the silence that had been created.

"We’re fine, we were resting." Ace said with his voice still sleepy. The sun was still high in the sky, you hadn’t slept too much.

"Better yet, do you have any news?"

"We found the spot indicated by the map, but as we suspected there are no caves on the surface, they will be underground, it will take a while to catch the treasure." You said while you stretched your legs and arms.

Before you started and before you podevate enjoy your short vacation.

"All right, let us know if you need anything, I should be able to find it in a short time and I recommend that you hear." He reiterated Marco closing the conversation.

"Still with this story they know very well that if we don’t call everything is fine." He said Ace putting the Slug back in his place and then taking his hat from the rock in which he had laid it.

"Do you want to start seeing where the treasure is?" He asked you as he saw you were tying a waterproof bag to your waist.

"Yes, I want to use the light before the sun goes down." You answered by turning to him and smiling at him.

Ace nodded and handed you his knife, just in case it was always better to be prepared he told you, despite the absence of predators did not trust to let you swim not without protection.

"You see that rock there in the middle, it swims immediately in that direction and you notice something strange, I’ll come and get you right away." Ace said by snapping a loud kiss on your cheek.

You nodded and went into the water.

Your exploration lasted literally until sunset and was really very profitable. The currents were not strong and the crystal clear water had allowed you to find the chest immediately, along with everything that was on the bottom.

It was a great haul. Ace helped you get him out of the water by exploiting the rocks that emerged from the sea and before the sun went down you had almost everything.

"Tomorrow we will organize the space on the Strider for tonight we can rest." He said taking your life and taking you for a ride in mid-air.

You laughed happy, for once a mission proceeded smoothly. It was too good to be true.

The camp was ready, dinner was ready, and the inventory of what you found had already been made by Ace as you brought something back to the gala.

You wore a perforated sundress and you enjoyed the evening with Ace, he asked you every detail of the bottom, the fish you saw and many other things.

Ace a little envied you, having eaten a fruit of the devil could not stay with you in salt water.

It was a shame because he would have liked to take long swims with you to explore the seabed.

"Ace... will you help me get the salt out of my body?" You whispered in his ear resting for a moment your lips on the lobe and then withdrawing almost immediately and melting the sundress that you had put on your self.

Ace envied you a little bit, but he always liked it when you asked him to help you get rid of salt in your body.

"With pleasure my love." said your man approaching you and holding you close to him. Ace wasted no time searching for your lips, he bitten them urgently and licked them immediately after.

She took advantage when you hatched her to better deepen the kiss, Ace made you taste the salt that was deposited on your body.

You scratched his hips and Ace sighed inside your kiss when you started tinkering with his belt.

But first he had to get the salt out of your body.

Ace has abandoned your lips, descending down your neck and savoring every inch with his burning tongue. You have arched your back to feel it closer to Ace has harpooned your butt with his warm hands to pick you up and lift you and brought you near a rock to make you sit.

A thrill descended down your spine in contact with the cold rock, but Ace’s warm tongue warmed you up right away. Your top piece had flown away and now it lay on the white sand as Ace’s mouth moved greedily over your breast.

Ace was licking, biting, sucking hard, and nippling you, making you scream with pleasure, and you were alone and you could afford it.

"What a hungry sailor." You whispered to him, clutching his hair and pulling a little when Ace bit his nipple hard.

"Ahhh..." You groaned your legs, looking for some satisfaction.

"Yes I am a very hungry sailor." He told you by licking the other nipple and taking them both together, starting to caress them and bite them with his teeth.

You screamed again for pleasure and Ace enjoyed every single groan that came out of your lips.

He loved taking you to the edge.

He continued his descent of kisses on your belly, biting and scratching the skin near your navel and then quickly removed the piece from under your costume, noting with pleasure the stain that had formed on it.

"Someone here needs to be properly controlled." He said as he knelt on the sand and used the height of the rock to be able to admire you better.

"Acee..." You tried calling him, but your voice died in your throat when his tongue crept in. You arched your back again as Ace’s hand came back to tighten your nipple and the other one held your leg still.

"Shhh Love, let me take this salt off you." He whispered to you, got back inside you and made you scream at too much stimulation.

Her fingers had penetrated you, middle and index fingers, as her tongue made circles around your clitoris and tapped it just enough to make you wince and moan loudly. You had tears in your eyes from how much it was stimulating you.

And you felt like you were reaching the limit.

You tried to stop him, to get up, but his hands stopped you, he tightened your thighs tighter and intensified your tongue movements.

"Aceee... I.... I come..." You said arching your back and seeing for a moment the stars closest to you. And Ace didn’t walk away, but he ate all of you.

"So good just for me." He told you by kissing your lower belly and slowly going up to your lips and then catching them in a needy kiss

You held it to yourself, making your breast adhere to her chest and feeling the thrill of her cool red pearls in contact with your warm skin.

You heard a rustle of clothes, Ace’s boots flying somewhere and then his presence pounding on your lower abdomen.

You have moved the hips of instinct and you have widened a little more the legs and Ace entered inside your pussy with one and only push, going to hit your sensitive point.

"I found a treasure." He whispered in your ear, made you blush and started pumping inside you.

"Perhaps I’d have a bigger reward if you behave yourself sailor." You answered him kissing him again urgently. And Ace went crazy and started pushing harder into you.

One thrust, two spines, three thrusts and you screamed with pleasure when Ace hit that spot again, it didn’t give you time to recover that it kept pumping all its length inside you.

You could feel your walls tightening tightly to his cock and getting wetter and wetter as he kept hitting incessantly and nonstop.

"Love..." A whisper, a poorly restrained groan and a silent request.

You nodded and kissed him again and allowed him to pour into you.

You both came, collapsing on the cold rock and panting, but happy.

Ace picked you up once he got out of you and brought you by the fire. You curled up on him and listened to his heartbeat.

"We should do this more often." he said while playing with your locks of hair.

"What?" you asked leaving a kiss on his chest.

"Look for underwater treasures." He responded by rekindling the fire with his power.

"Maybe next time you could be the sailor who stole the mermaid’s tail." You said already imagining the situation.

"Ohhh... and what would this mermaid do to get her tail back." Ace bit your neck, and you sighed at his hand, and it was creeping back into you.

"Ahhh... I think he could do anything Love." You kissed him back.

"It took you three whole days to recover all this stuff?" Satch looked at you puzzled. I mean, it was a nice haul, but generally it would have taken less.

"How much sun did you take?" asked Marco noting your tanned skin and the fact that there was no sign of the costume.

Izo laughed, or if he laughed relishing the scene of your interrogation. Marco and Satch didn’t want to admit the evidence, and White Beard also laughed with him.

"Three days? What did you do?"

You turned red to remember the days you spent sunbathing and making love to Ace on the beach.

"Come on, Satch, any self-respecting pirate is very careful to make sure he’s got all the treasure." Ace’s hand had rested on your back, even though it was next to you you could feel the grin that had appeared on his face perfectly.

Oh he took all the treasure.

"What’s wrong with our little sister?" Izo approached you, seeing you red as a pepper: "Too strong a heat stroke?" He winked at you while you took his cheeks to pinch him and Ace laughed.

"These two will drive us crazy Marco." Satch enjoyed the scene alongside Marco and the Fenice nodded.

You really were the worst generation, you and Ace.

[ladisgarde]

Armand may not have the cloud gift*, but he can experience the exhilarating sensation of soaring through the air at high-speed all the same – on skis.

(New headcanon: Armand is into winter sports, in particular cross-country skiing. I wrote a poly drabble?)

Of course he wouldn't be able to use any ski lifts at night, but it's nothing to him to make his way uphill, fast. He quickly learned the technique and refined it for himself. For a mortal, it would be most unsettling to witness his ascent, something like a water strider climbing upward in bobbing movements. Truly the silhouette of a giant insect moving at alarming speed.

It's not like he would ever beg a more powerful vampire to carry him to the peak, so that he might slalom back down again. He would rather die before he did that, honestly.

Marius preferred to stay at the foot of the mountain, where the lone hut they spent comfortable hours in was. He didn't approve of Armand travelling too far away on his tours, kept warning him to not slip and fall into an icy crevasse, because then "neither he or Daniel would be able to hear him call for help." His maker insisted that he carry an electronic device that allowed him to be tracked, just in case. The fussing annoyed Armand greatly. He wouldn't be that inattentive. He'd only be in danger if someone attacked him, and who would dare to do that?

"So come along with me, my beloved," Armand would tell Daniel. "If we go now, we can climb 2,800 metres and come back long before daybreak. The moon is bright, and I want to show you the Northeastern summit. And it will be safer when we're together, is that not so?" Two vampires were indeed stronger than one, even against the steepest slope. And Daniel could always call for Marius.

Daniel did join Armand in his excursions now and then, and they enjoyed the magnificent panoramic views together. A winter wonderland spread out for miles beneath them. But Daniel's enthusiasm wore off with him getting cold a lot quicker. In time he would prefer to hang around the hut instead; reading, crafting, spending time with Marius. Marius, on the other hand, could not be moved to go near any high-alpine mountain chains, at least not for sport. He would always remind that he had something to review, most notably the latest draft of the council's Rules and Regulations handbook.

It was unsurprising that Marius brought paperwork with him on their holiday. But he did find something new to occupy his hands with. Though not particularly fond of ice as a material, he challenged himself to shape large blocks of them into eye-pleasing sculptures. He carved another crystal flower, honing his new skill.

When Armand came back to the hut from another one of his nightly mountain trips, his heart still singing from the final spurt, he saw Daniel lying flat on his back in the snow, stargazing. A bit further away, Marius was intently working away at their workbench. Carefully the knife carved into the block of ice, Armand couldn't tell what he was sculpting. Upon looking at Daniel again, he saw that his fledgling had made a snow angel. Daniel smiled and invited him to make one too. Armand refused.

"Snow-white wings suit you a lot better than me," he said. Daniel shrugged. Marius said nothing.

Carrying his skiing equipment, Armand stepped around Marius to reach the door. His heart skipped a beat when he saw what he was working on: a bust of himself and Daniel, beautifully carved in ice. Armand's head was placed a little higher, his shining curls carefully framing his face, eyes half-lidded. How did Marius manage to make his eyelashes so detailed? Daniel was close, his cheek by his collarbone, moist lips parted. Both of them looked sensual with their bare necks exposed.

"If we leave this here, it will be destroyed when winter is over," Marius said thoughtfully. "I did not think that far ahead."

"Master... you have outdone yourself. I will carry it to the tip of the mountain where it is coldest all year round, so that I may look upon it again by next season."

Daniel came to join them and stared at the ice statue, impressed. "Masterful, indeed... But it's missing something important." He stared pointedly at Marius, who raised his brows. "I'm mean you, Marius. You're missing from the sculpture."

Marius smiled. "I just made it for myself, you know. For practice." ("For practice!" Daniel exclaimed.)

Putting down his tools, Marius placed his arms gently around both Armand and Daniel. "Never mind that now. We should head inside. You both are more precious than anything that my hands can make." So saccharine his words, the younger men both couldn't help a blush. They leaned in close and allowed themselves to be led into the warmth of the house.

(Imagine Armand getting himself trapped in ice after all. Is this what Marius felt that one time? His maker and fledgling can't hear him!! His iPhone got lost. Maybe he can summon Lestat? Obviously, a terrible idea.)

*Armand DOES have the cloud gift, making this an AU scenario

[thehazeldruid]

Strider's Cowl

~A Glamour/ Enchantment to conceal yourself from those who would wish you ill will~

What you will need

a hoodie, jacket, or sweatshirt (I used my favorite hoodie)

A white candle

your favorite incense

What to do

Wash your piece of clothing, to rid it of any lingering old energies, then cleanse it as well, if you feel it necessary.

Prepare yourself however necessary. Shower, meditate, ground, center etc. I personally waited for a storm to build up the energy I used for this enchantment.

Raise the energy however you wish, through calling the elements, crystals, your own energy. Once the energy is at your disposal, light the candle and incense and set the piece of clothing out in your workspace, either folded or unfolded, it’s up to you.

Channel the energy you’ve risen into the item. Visualize the energy flowing from your hands as you wave them over the clothing, flowing into and building within the clothing.

As you are filling it with your energy say “Like the lone rider through the storm, let me be kept safe from eyes that seek harm. Let me pass through shadows unseen, and pass by others with the greatest of ease.”

Hold the clothing up in the smoke of the incense, allowing the smoke to curl around it as the incense burns down. It is done.

Clean up, and wear the enchanted clothing whenever you need to stay out of sight or wish to go unnoticed by those who mean you harm. This enchantment can be re done as often as necessary. I also ended up stitching an “I am hidden” sigil inside my sweatshirt (which I actually no longer own, thinking back on the first time I did this one.) This can also be complimented by carrying gemstones for safety and protection in your pockets.

Happy Casting, and stay safe witches!

M.G.

/|\

The Hazel Druid

[hmshermitcraft]

(I made the ask with xisuma and ren getting engaged when Ren was king, sooo. Why not add a royal wedding)

Xisuma is looking at himself in the mirror on his and rens room in the castle. He was wearing a beautiful royal wedding dress that fades from white to light red, voidwolkers wear there soon to be husband or wife's favorite color somewhere on their dress and xisuma didn't that would be ok to have rens favorite color somewhere on his dress but ex told cleo and stress (they made the dress) and they surprised x with a off the shoulder ballgown wedding dress that faded from white to light ren. (Xisuma cried when he saw it). xisuma is also wearing a crown on his head that has small end crystals in it.

Xisuma sat in front of the mirror as the girls and Keralis got ready, but Gem was doing xisumas hair.

After getting ready, they took some pictures as they waited.

Ren was wearing a suit, and he found out about voidwolkers wearing their lovers' colors, so he got a green tie, and he also had a crawn with redstone in it. Doc and Cub were there helping him get ready and themselves.

After both parties were ready, the wedding started, and someone would have lied if you said ren didn't cry when he saw xisuma for the first time in his dress.

The wedding went off great, and everyone they knew was there, and everyone cheered when rem dip kissed xisuma after the I do's

It was a beautiful blend of both their cultures and each other. Ren jokes that red looks good on Xisuma (anything does in Ren's eyes) and Xisuma threatens to bring out the strider suit more often.

The crowns seem to switch between the couple as the reception goes on. Up until Xisuma starts musing aloud about if he could get the redstone to do something, and then both crowns get confiscated by Cleo away from the somewhat tipsy grooms and guests.

Xisuma manages to stay awake a bit later than usual, but he still ends up being one of the first to turn in. Ren sneaks out with him, giggling the entire way back to their room and through getting their wedding outfits off. They'd love to say they got up to anything that night, but in reality they just sat and gushed over how gorgeous the outfits and each other are until they fell asleep.