#i forgot to post this one over here whoops

[systelon]

this game made me shit myself

[philosophiums]

If the sky falls down right now, you're the one that I'll worship...

[sandwhitches]

ೃ༄ 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐌𝐄? (𝐩𝐭. 𝐈𝐈)

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘀: bokuto koutaro, akaashi keiji, iwaizumi hajime, oikawa tooru & sakusa kiyoomi

𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰: how they pop the question! (hcs + drabbles)

𝗰𝘄: implied fem. reader, mentions of marriage tehehe, mushy corny top romance

𝗮/𝗻: part two yayyyy!!! i wanted to post this earlier in the day but i unfortunately have to be a functioning member of society from time to time blegh. iwa's part is dedicated to my lovely moot @froyaoya who just gets it. sorry for any typos!!! also working on requests from the event still hehehe

(read part 1 here!!!)

𝐁𝐎𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐎

» Look at this man, this beautiful blessing of a man, and tell me this is not about to be the showiest proposal ever

» He’s asking you to marry him and he wants EVERYONE to know (in the purest way possible)

» You knew what you were getting yourself into

» Is he nervous? No, maybe, he doesn’t want to think about it, OKAY?!

» Thinks the perfect time is asking you right after MSBY wins at finals, but one of his teammates (because he told them the plan…obviously) is like what are you going to do if we lose???? He almost dies on the spot because he totally forgot that was a possibility whoops

» There’s an easy way around that problem! Just win, duh!

Your heart feels as if it could just beat out of your chest with excitement as the last set ends, MSBY reigning victorious. Mind swimming with unadulterated pride, you’re already halfway down to the court once others begin to flood it, nothing you want more but the man who is currently wading through a crowd in search of you. 

For a brief moment, you pause at the sidelines, unable to find him, then remember Bokuto was probably in the midst of one of many interviews or something else much more important than a simple post-game congratulatory hug. Your conjecture is quickly smashed by the call of your name, paired with your boyfriend’s big, shiny beam of pure joy as he opens his arms for you. You let out a huff of laughter, then hurry over, practically launching yourself into his hold. 

Koutaro exclaims in delight, squeezing you close as he spins you around excitedly, “Did you see?!” You giggle, still holding onto his thick forearms as he places you down, “How could I not?” 

Bokuto’s chest puffs with pride before he bends over ever so slightly to give you a kiss that he’s been thinking about for the better half of the game. He dearly hopes that you didn’t see him dash off the court as soon as he was able to, making a quick job of fishing a ring box from his duffel bag on the sidelines as Atsumu cheered him on. Now, the box sits in the pocket of his uniform shorts, ready to be presented to you. 

“You did so good, Kou!” You add with an endearing smile, chest filling with warmth as his smile broadens upon hearing the praise, “Only because you were watching me.” Bokuto supplies in a chipper response, cheeks flushed. 

“I think you’re good, either way,” you chuckle fondly.

Koutaro clicks his tongue playfully, wagging his head back and forth in disagreement, “Nah, you’re the reason I’ve made it this far, after all.”

Though you beg to differ, it’s nice to hear it. You’re more than positive that Bokuto would have made it this far with or without you, still, you can’t help but count yourself lucky for being along for the ride.

What started as his hopeful attempts to impress you with showy spikes back in high school, what turned into a cramped downtown apartment, and what is now this moment that you share on the court. And while to you all of this seems so extraneous to his performance tonight, Bokuto can surely recognize where his motivation has been coming from, it’s only natural he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. 

“I want to be able to win every game in the future for you!” He declares, and it takes you a moment to register that he’s deadly serious, you’d nearly giggled in response, “I just want you to enjoy yourself, isn’t that what matters?” You speak up a bit over the crowd, head tilting. 

“Well, you’re right,” he shrugs, “But I also think you’re the biggest reason why I keep wanting to get better.” 

The sentiment makes a lump form in your throat, knowing that he doesn’t even mean to flatter you half of the time, he’s being entirely honest with you. That’s one thing you’ll never grow used to about Bokuto, how easily he can say something that knocks the breath out of you, and everything he tells you is undeniably true to what he believes. 

“So, that’s why I hope we can be together forever,” he adds with a simple nod, reaching into his pocket. You’re just about to agree, after all, he says such sappy things like this so often that it’s hard to tell when the words have more weight behind them. This time, you soon realize as he lowers himself to the ground, his words have the weight of the entire world. 

“I love you so much, you know? I’ll never stop, either,” Bokuto presents a ring box that looks absolutely tiny in his large hands, still, he’s ever so gentle in opening it to reveal a large diamond that glitters under the stadium lights. At this point, the people around you have paused their celebratory ministrations to watch, but none of that really matters to you and Bokuto. The most important thing in the world, you can’t ever deny, is the man staring up at you so lovingly. And coincidentally, you just happen to be the most important thing in the world to him, too. 

“I hope you’ll let me love you forever,” he speaks with sheer confidence and pride, as he does with everything else, “Can I marry you?”

𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐈𝐉𝐈

» Something simple but intimate, that’s just his thing 

» Definitely a winter proposal, Akaashi thinks the snow is just so romantic

» Takes you down to a snowy park to go ice skating (despite contrary belief, you probably had to hold him up almost the entire time, this man doesn’t exactly have any natural grace when it comes to treading ice)

» Afterwards, it’s the standard snow day affair, you two build a snowman and give it a name inspired by one of your countless inside jokes, the both of you engage in snowball warfare, he buys you a cup of cocoa and sits on the bench with you (and yeah, he helps you blow on it, he’s just that perfect)

» What you DON'T know is that all day he’s been waiting for the right moment to reveal the little gift he’s been harboring for you in his back pocket

You can’t remember the last time you felt cold in the winter at all. When you think about it, the icy bite of frozen wind hasn’t nipped at your cheeks in years, perhaps having something to do with the eternal warmth the man beside you incited, the sort of toasty comfort that made your muscles loosen and eyelids go heavy. 

Akaashi’s breath comes out in short, puffy clouds, then rolls out into nothing in a matter of mere seconds. The crunching of snow beneath soles of winter boots fills the silence and makes your heart sing, oh, how you love this time of year. Beside you, however, Keiji is struggling to discern what his instincts are telling him to do. Two separate thoughts of just do it now and wait for another time have been pestering him all day to the point in which he can no longer hold a conversation without feeling a nervous ache in his chest. 

“Ah!” You exclaim with surprise, tilting your chin up ever so slightly towards the cloudy sky. Akaashi peers at you first, then up in the direction you face, realizing that tiny snowflakes are beginning to fall down to earth once more. The world is so quiet during the winter, he thinks, even with the mirth surrounding the two of you in the busy park, the snow will always serve to bolster the sound in its milky white embrace. 

He chuckles to himself as you stick out your tongue, darting it upwards to catch a snowflake, and the sight nearly makes him forget about what he came here to do. If there truly is a perfect time, Akaashi isn’t sure he’ll ever have the confidence to pin it, but right now, things feel okay, they feel right. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs in a whisper, catching your attention. Akaashi doesn’t miss the snowflake stuck to your eyelashes, nor the stray speckles of snow glittering in your hair like sugar. Your cheeks flush, leaving you to grin sweetly at him in gratitude while he brushes snowflakes from your hair, “You know what I just realized right now?”

You hum, blinking up at him curiously for an answer, eyes training on the subtle upturn of his lips, the crinkle of his reddened nose. 

“I think this is the happiest I’ve ever been in my life.” Your heart swells and a flustered, almost sheepish, giggle falls under your breath at the compliment. Akaashi can be so romantic, sometimes, and it leaves you wondering if he even knows what he’s doing to you…he has to, hasn’t he? Keiji clears his throat, “Actually, that’s what I wanted to ask you about today.”

Furrowing your brows in confusion, you tilt your head at him ever so slightly, “What do you mean?”

Now it’s Akaashi’s turn to let out a sheepish laugh, slipping a knit glove off of one of his hands and placing it into his coat pocket, much to your perplexity. “I wanted to ask if you’d let me have this forever. There’s nothing else I’d really want more than this.” Suddenly, everything clicks in your mind as he reaches into his back pocket and lowers to one knee, that softened grin of his cracking into a wide beam once tears flood into your eyes.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I want to marry you,” the ring he’s since taken from the box shines so brilliantly under snowy sunbeams, and you realize Akaashi was right about one thing, this is the happiest you think you’ve ever seen him. 

“Would you let me have that? Will you marry me?”

𝐈𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐄

» This is the world’s best boyfriend in case there was any confusion (which there shouldn’t be)

» Unfortunately this man wouldn’t know subtle if it slapped him in the face and stole his lunch money

» If you get your nails done, Iwa always pays for them, but he is oddly persistent about it the week leading up to when he plans to propose…which is kinda suspicious to you but you let it go

» He’s a big nature lover!!! He loves going on hikes with you (and doesn’t even mind in the slightest if he has to wait up for you, all he cares about is spending time together)

» Suggests the two of you go to your favorite trail and is absolutely relieved when you agree (Oikawa’s already headed over to hide in the bushes for three hours with a camera)

Wiping the sweat off your brow, you let release a drawn-out heavy breath of relief to have finally made it past the steep monster of a hill you and Iwaizumi had been dreading to trek. It’s worth it, though, it always is. The past few times that the two of you have gone down this trail, you’ve never lingered long enough to get the perfect view that you’re getting now, overlooking treetops gone vibrant green like everything else in springtime. 

“I thought you weren’t gonna make it for a second,” Hajime snickers, pulling at the collar of his shirt to cool himself down, and you can’t help but ponder why he seems so different today. For one, he’s taken every excuse to put his hands on you, holding your waist or lacing his fingers gently into your own with a periodic squeeze or two. Not to mention, he also can’t seem to be able to take his eyes off of you, which isn’t anything new in the slightest, save for a brand new depth to its usual shine that has puzzled you. 

“Are you kidding?” You scoff playfully, “I’m the one who almost had to drag you the rest of the way!” The two of you both know that is further from the truth than anything, but you still laugh, you always do. How can’t you feel such a dizzying high of joy when you’re together like this? Iwaizumi slips his backpack off his shoulder, presumably to grab a bottle of water, leaving you to admire the view once more. 

Today seems like it was made to be enjoyed, the trail isn’t as humid as it has been before, but it was just as lush, budding with the forest flora of early spring. Hajime noticed this too, in fact, not only is today perfect to enjoy, but he knows for certain it’s perfect for something else. And it’s now or never, he thinks, making sure your back is still turned as he grabs a navy velveted ring box from the front pocket. 

You glance back over your shoulder to make sure Hajime is sharing the view with you, that he too can see how terribly romantic everything can be when you care to notice it. He gulps, quickly tucking his hand behind his back as he comes up to place the other palm on your shoulder with a slight squeeze of affectionate warmth. “So pretty,” you note, knowing it goes without saying. 

Hajime nods, chewing on his lower lip in thought, until he’s unable to fight a shaky grin of excitement. You sigh contentedly, turning to face the sun again, relishing in the spoils of your hard work, and Hajime speaks up once more, “Today is perfect, isn’t it?”

You nod wordlessly, and he stares fondly as ever at the nape of your neck, knowing for certain that anything with you involved will always be perfect. That’s why he’s doing this, isn’t it?

“That’s why I thought today would be nice to ask you this.”

Your brows crease in confusion at the statement, prompting you to glance back over your shoulder again with a hushed hum, only to jump in surprise at the sight of him much lower to the ground than before. A hand flies to clasp at your mouth, Hajime gazes up at you from one knee like you hung the stars in the sky, and in fact, you might as well have. You’re the reason everything in his life is beautiful, why the thought of being without you is worse than death. 

“Don’t cry,” he chuckles adoringly at the sight of you falling apart, knowing it’s hypocritical of him to say with fat tears brimming in his own eyelids. Hajime carefully pops the ring box open, a quivering grin and creased brow are the only things standing between him and weeping.

“You know,” he starts, sniffling, “The only way I want to spend the rest of my life is with you, all I need to be happy is you.”

“Will you let me have the privilege of getting to marry you?”

𝐎𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐖𝐀 𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐔

» Showpony (in the most loving way possible)

» He was going to have an airplane spell “Will You Marry Me?” in the sky before Iwa shut that down 

» Bottom line, he needs this to be as romantic as possible, it’s the most important night of your relationship by far, after all!

» New Years is right around the corner and what’s more romantic than celebrating another loop around the sun with fireworks?

» I’d imagine you two would be in Argentina so on New Years Eve he’ll suggest that you head down to the beach to watch fireworks pop over the city in the distance

» Much to your surprise, there’s already a picnic set up for the two of you upon arrival (this man is so extra. I cannot.)

Fireworks occupy the inky sky in the distance, brilliant, vivid speckles of light begin to dwindle as they fall to the earth. You’re entranced by the display, the dazzling red of another large firework bursts across the sky like stardust, glittering on its way down. And while the celebration is a sight to see, Oikawa couldn’t keep his eyes on it if he tried.

In his opinion, you were countless times more appealing to stare at, the way your eyes light up when another crackling display of gold goes off in the sky, how the flickering lights make the shadows on your face dance. This is something he could never get sick of, it seems. 

“You’re staring.” You mumble under your breath coyly, giving him a cursory once over, then looking back at the fireworks. Oikawa laughs under his breath, “How could I not? You’re stunning.” 

As he expected, you groan playfully, nudging him, “You are the corniest person I’ve ever met!” Tooru likes this bit, the one where he tells you something he wholeheartedly believes and you pretend you don’t hear the pure sincerity when he says it, “It’s true!” He scoffs in mock-offense, “You’re so gorgeous, am I allowed to say that?” Oikawa tilts his head back with a whine. 

You’re looking at him now, still sitting cross-legged on the beach towel; and Oikawa’s bubbly mood quickly goes flat with the realization that you’re not just beautiful, you’re captivating. He’s not sure what he’s done right in order to be sitting on this beach with you, eyes lingering on the way salty sea air blows gusts of wind past you softly, sending your hair to ripple like tendrils of smoke. 

Just in those few seconds, he knows that he can’t wait any longer to ask you to let him have this view for eternity, and he’s hungry to walk straight into the future knowing you won’t stray too far from him wherever the two of you may end up. Tooru sits up straighter, fixing his sweatshirt as he shifts to rest on his knees, raring to figure out how to begin to say what he wants to. 

You’ve since taken notice of his movement, smiling softly in confusion at him while he gives up on fighting the urge to stare at you, brown eyes glimmering with something warm each time another firework bursts in the sky. “Can I make a promise to you?” Oikawa whispers, head tilted. 

With perplexity, you shrug, then smile with a focused eye on his expression, “Sure.” He clutches your hand, “I promise that I will always be here for you, even if you don’t ask me to be there, I will always make sure you know how much I love you,” Oikawa’s voice goes low with uncharacteristic solemnity, and you’re on the verge of asking him what this is all about before he shifts to one knee, bringing a black ring box from behind him to light. 

You can’t help but gasp, sitting back on two knees, face now leveled with his. You can perfectly see his expression soften, melting into something entirely new. Oikawa knows he is falling in love with you all over again, he’s been the head over heels kind of smitten, but now? Now his love has grown to become a need to have you with him in order to continue on living.

“And I…” the box opens, a diamond reflecting the bright colors spilling across the sky enters your watery vision, “I want to be able to make these promises to you at the altar, and I want to spend my life living up to them.” 

“Will you let me keep my promise and marry you?”

𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐒𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐈

» Wants something quiet, you know? When it’s just the two of you guys, it’s most romantic

» You come home after a tiring day of work and he’s doting on you more than usual (which is saying a lot considering you’re the apple of his eye as it is)

» What’s this? Your hunky boyfriend made you pasta dinner? Oh okay.

» GODDDD no matter how many times you two eat together he always pulls the chair out for you even if it’s just at home, he’s subtle in the loudest ways about how much he loves you 

» Actually pretty nervous because doing something like this is so vulnerable and I can see that as something that frightens him a bit

» But it’s you!!! If there’s anyone he’d ever feel comfortable being 100% vulnerable around, it will always have to be you!

“What’s the special occasion?” You had snickered upon entering your dimly-lit apartment, raising your shoulders to make it easier for Kiyoomi, who’d taken to helping you slip out of your coat as soon as he’d finished kissing you hello. Your boyfriend said something along the lines of, “Just wanted to,” with that airy tone of his, donning a grin much larger than usual. 

Sakusa has never, and never will, be able to get over how utterly beautiful you are. Everything you do makes his chest ache with longing, even after having dated for years, he just has accepted that being around you will always make him go weak with adoration. “This is amazing,” you muse, twirling your fork around on the plate for another bite, “I think you should just take over dinner all the time.” 

The two of you laugh amongst yourselves quietly, “I can see it now, I’d love to come home to you in a frilly apron after work,” you add teasingly, tapping his shin with your socked foot under the table.

Kiyoomi simply shakes his head with a humored scoff, “I’m sure you would,” he drawls, taking a thoughtful sip of wine. He still can’t get over it, even thinking about it right now, you are the most beautiful thing he has ever laid his eyes upon and it’s not fair how easily you can render him speechless. In the candlelight, you remind him of a painting, a set of perfectly carved out features, each one intentionally placed with the utmost amount of care. You’re perfect.

Tonight will be the night that he asks you to please let him devote his life to you, for the simple feeling of him to be able to bask in your radiance. And if that, in your own words, means cooking dinner in a frilly apron for you every night, Kiyoomi struggles to really find any grievances he has with that. 

“I’d gladly do that for you,” Sakusa finally returns, earning a playful quirk of your brows, “Oh?” 

“In fact, you know, I’d really like to do that for you,” Kiyoomi stands up, much to your confusion as he steps to your side of the table. You almost don’t process the way in which he bends over to kiss the crown of your head on his way down to one knee, a hopeful smile on his face. 

“If there’s anything I want you to know, it’s that I’ve wanted to spend the rest of my life with you for a long time, now,” Kiyoomi slips a velvet box from his pocket and your jaw goes slack in surprise, a hand traveling to grasp at the collar of your blouse. 

“You’re the only person I want to spend the rest of my life with because you’re my best friend,” he says, voice faltering with a sudden onslaught of emotions, “And I think…I know that I exist to love you.”

You’re unable to speak, breath caught in your throat and hot tears threatening to overflow onto your warm cheeks, his voice comes out solemn and intentional, “I want to be able to love you for all the time that I’m able to.”

Kiyoomi presents the ring to you, a question he’s been dying to ask you for years forming on his lips as they part to ask it, “Will you marry me?”

[companion-of-the-dragonmark]

When Was the First Kingdom of the Wilderwest Built? (HTTYD Books)

Hello, my fellow Dragonmarkers! It's been awhile! As promised, here's the article concerning the plausible timeline of the Kingdom of the Wilderwest. This article was actually a very old one of mine that I had written during this month in 2018. Why didn't I post it on here? Because I wasn't on Tumblr until 2020. And by then, I had forgotten to post this on here. Whoops. Teehee. 😜

When did Hiccup the First end the First Human-Dragon War and built the First Kingdom of the Wilderwest?

Many fans just go with what Wodensfang says in Book 11, supporting the 1000-Year Dynasty mentioned in Book 11 rather than the 500-700-Year Dynasty suggested in Book 9. In fact, it's everywhere in the HTTYD Wiki. I guess it's because fans view Book 11 to be more accurate because it's a later book? I don't know; maybe I'm thinking too hard about this.

But I want to talk through this and thoroughly go through the pros and cons of both sides of the argument and do this right. I'd love to know what you guys think about this.

Anyway, on to the topic!  

Possible Contradiction?:

In the First Book — the Book that we're all familiar with — in Chapter 6, Page 68, says that:

"The Dragon (speaking of the Green Death) had crawled down into the depths of the ocean and had gone into a Sleep Coma. Dragons can stay in this suspended state for eternity, half-dead, half-alive, buried under fathom after fathom of icy-cold seawater. Not a muscle of this particular Dragon had moved for six or seven centuries."

Wodensfang's account of Hiccup the First in Book 9 "How to Steal a Dragon's Sword", on Chapter 12, Page 203, seems to probably confirm this when he says: "Five or six centuries ago, when I was young, it was a very dark age, and the dragons and humans were at war."

He goes on further explanation in Page 208 concerning the Green Death: "...Merciless flew to the north, and to the Open Sea. He lived so long a loner that perhaps over the centuries he forgot his youth as leader of a dragon army and became quite an ordinary killer. Rumor was that several hundred years later, he was known only as the Green Death, one of the many monsters that terrorize the Deep Sea."

So you're probably saying, "Great! There it is! There's your answer! It was 600-700 years ago! Problem solved, right?"

Wrong.

In Book 11 "How to Betray a Dragon's Hero", on Chapter 6, Page 98, Wodensfang tells the story of how the Dragonmark came to be, as well as a more detailed history of the Kingdom of the Wilderwest and the story of Grimbeard the Ghastly as a boy, and how he changed the Mark. 

He says at the beginning of the story: "Once upon a time, Hiccup, a thousand or so years ago, when I was young and about the size of a Saber-Toothed Driver Dragon, I met your ancestor, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the First, and I gave him the Dragon Jewel and trusted him with the Jewel's Secret."

In Page 100, Wodensfang repeats this by saying: "For over a thousand years, it seemed like I had made the right decision to entrust the Secret of the Dragon Jewel to the humans."

I know right? I'm as confused as you are! Didn't he say in Book 9 that it was "five or six centuries ago"? Maybe even SEVEN centuries ago? Why the change? Did he suddenly get the Dragon equivalent of memory loss due to old age? Does he not know how to count?

Here's the confusing thing: if he was rounding, this might explain it. But the thing is that you can do it with small numbers, but as the number gets bigger, you can't round up in great jumps.

(Warning: Math Ahead!)

For example, say that the number is 8, you round it up to 10 (in certain circumstances) because 8 is closer to 10 than 5. However, if it's 6, then you have to round down to 5 because 6 is closer to 5. The only time that it doesn't is when you're rounding up in percentages (55.678594375 would be 56, for example).

You can't round up to 1000 years from 600, or even 700. That's too high of a jump. Especially when you're telling a historical account. For one thing, it's inaccurate, and for another, it's lazy. And it'll spread lots of confusion.

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A Roman Piece to a Nordic Puzzle | The Hint's in the Roman Numerals: 

So then, which is it? Was the Kingdom of the Wilderwest built 600-700 years ago or 1000-odd years ago? 

First off, allow me to redirect your attention once more to the references concerning the Green Death (also known as Merciless):

The Green Death Takes His Tea by Crownflame on DeviantArt

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"The Dragon (speaking of the Green Death) had crawled down into the depths of the ocean and had gone into a Sleep Coma. Dragons can stay in this suspended state for eternity, half-dead, half-alive, buried under fathom after fathom of icy-cold seawater. Not a muscle of this particular Dragon had moved for six or seven centuries." 

And this one:

  ". . .Merciless flew to the north, and to the Open Sea. He lived so long a loner that perhaps over the centuries he forgot his youth as leader of a dragon army and became quite an ordinary killer. Rumor was that several hundred years later, he was known only as the Green Death, one of the many monsters that terrorize the Deep Sea." 

According to these two quotes concerning the Dragon Merciless, it would appear that the events were about roughly 600 years ago. The problem is that the first quote says he had been in a Sleep Coma for six or seven centuries. I don't know about you, but that doesn't seem like a lot of time to me for him to have forgotten his past and about his nemesis Hiccup. It sounds like in the latter quote, Merciless lived and journeyed alone for a long time — about 100-200 years or more — before he fell into a Sleep Coma.

What might help support this is the mention of what he had eaten in Book 1, Page 129: "He was awake now, and he had coughed up the last thing he had eaten, the Eagle Standard of the Eighth Legion, with its pathetic ribbons still flying bravely."

Now, yes, the HTTYD books are exaggeratory and any historical references are "purely coincidental," and that the Roman Dragonrustlers were about during Hiccup the Third's time (but after Book 3 was said to have fled back to Rome — which is inaccurate because Hiccup's time was during the Viking Age, over 300 years after the fall of the Roman Empire. However, I have a theory that'll explain that in the future). 

But what if we DID get historical here? According to history, the only 8th Legion in Roman history was the Legio VIII Augusta, one of the oldest Roman legions in Rome's history (along with the Legio VI Feratta, Legio VII Claudia, and the (in)famous Legio IX Hispana). They were stationed in Gaul (modern France) near the modern-day Strasbourg area (called Argentoratum in Roman times). It was founded in 65 BC by Julius Caesar during the Gaul Wars. It continued service presumedly until either before or until the Fall of Rome (400-500 AD). 

Of course, since it continued service until that time period, then it's impossible for the Green Death to have eaten the Legion, right?

As Old Wrinkly used to say: "It's not im-POSSIBLE, only im-PROBABLE. The only thing that limits us are the limits to our imaginations." 

So, taking this sagely advice, let's think about this carefully.

According to Roman history, the Eighth Legion was disbanded during the first of Rome's Civil Wars (called Caesar's Civil War and the conflict was between Caesar and Scipio) soon after the Battle and Siege of Thapsus (modern-day Tunisia) in 46 BC for unknown reasons. It was reconstituted in 44 BC by Caesar's adopted son Augustus for Caesar's veterans who had loyally served him and helped him defeat Mark Antony and gain power as Rome's first Emperor.

So basically, there's a two-year gap between the disbandment and the reinstation of the Eighth Legion, which means that Merciless could've easily have eaten the Legion during that time and nobody would've been the wiser, and when Augustus reinstated the Legion two years later, he filled the ranks with other veterans who had served Caesar and Augustus.

What do you think? Plausible?

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Possible Connection to Dragon-Aging and Dates in the Book of Dragons:

Now, in Book 1, in the back of the How to Train Your Dragon book that Hiccup reads (similar to the Book of Dragons in the film) in Chapter 4 on Page 53-58, it says that the last stamped due-date was on "16 May 866 AD". The first and second due-dates stamped on there before that were "10 June 789 AD" and "9 April 835 AD".

However, there's no mention of when that book was borrowed, or when it was returned, or the gap between the date and when Gobber the Belch had burgled it from the Meathead "Public" Library. The Hooligans seemed to have had the book for a while. So the current date of the time of Hiccup's first memoir could be anywhere from 866-900 AD — if not later! 

Suffering Scallops, it could even be in the 1000s AD!!! In Book 7, Hiccup writes in his epilogue that: "Now I am an old, old man, and the world that I created has no need for dragons. They have retreated from the civilization that I brought, along with the wolves, and the Berserks, and the monsters of my childhood."

In 1015 AD, Berserkers were outlawed, and the practice of "going berserk" as a profession and the rituals involving their cults were forbidden until by the turn of the 12th century, Berserkers had all but disappeared from human history. The end of the Viking Age was considered to be between 1066-1100 AD, so, scallops, Hiccup could very well have lived during this time.

(This could explain the crossbows in the TV series, as they were beginning to show up around this time, as well as Hiccup's quote in the first film: "300 years and I'm the first Viking who wouldn't kill a dragon!") 

And, in Book 12, Hiccup also explains in his epilogue that Sea-Dragons like Toothless can live for thousands of years, so maybe 1000-year period might be correct? There's no mention about the other sea dragons, apparently, so I guess they don't live nearly as long?

The problem is the period of growth in the Sea-Dragons. Wodensfang was probably of-age by the time he meets Hiccup the First, and he was "the size of a Saber-Toothed Driver Dragon" then. Then, as the decades and centuries went by and the Kingdom prospered, he grew to be "as large as a mountain". Then he says that hundreds of years ago, he began to "shrink in old age", as Sea-Dragons are small in young and old ages, but in adult stages they're colossal, until he shrunk to the "size of a large Viking hunting dog (probably a Norwegian Elkhound, which lived during this time and was used mainly as a guard and hunting dog)" during the time of Grimbeard the Ghastly. By Hiccup the Third's time a hundred years later, he shrunk to the size of Toothless.

Furious was still considered a baby during Hiccup the Second's time, but grew to be the size of a small elephant. Then 100 years later, he became the size of a mountain, when it doesn't seem that Wodensfang grew that big that quickly (though, to be fair, the Berserks had been feeding him well with human sacrifices for the past 100 years, among other foods, so he probably grew to be that big because of it.) He must've had an early growth spurt. lol 😂

That being said, the reason Furious and Wodensfang have different growing speeds may be likely due to Furious having been fed well since his hatchling days. Whereas it's hinted by Wodensfang himself that he's had a difficult life in his younger days, which is one of the reasons he joins Merciless' rebellion against the Vikings. So the struggle for food could've stunted his growth until he met Hiccup the First later on, at which point he grew faster as more food was available.

Meanwhile, there's Toothless, who's a baby, and has been the size of Wodensfang since the first book, and, according to Hiccup in his epilogue in Book 12, hasn't really grown up at all despite it being 62 years since the events of Book 12 (which if Hiccup was 10-11 when he got Toothless in Book 1, this would make Toothless 65-66 years old by Hiccup's death) and is still able to sleep on his chest. 

He must be a late bloomer. lol 😂

Then there's the Green Death — or Merciless — to consider. While he was Furious's size during Hiccup the First's time, and was considered to be a young dragon, then several centuries later, if not more, when he meets Hiccup the Third, he's still the same size! Do Sleep Comas delay aging and growth or something?

So basically we have FOUR Sea-Dragons who grow and age at various speeds! So I don't think we can glean anything from this.

So . . . 1000 years or 600-700 years? Honestly, I seem to get more confused the further I try to explain it! I hope you're having better luck keeping up than I am at the moment! lol 😂

<><><><><><><>

Time For a Little More Math! (cue the groans!):

Okay, I'm going to do a little more math. To be honest, graphs, charts, and basic math is the only math I love. If you don't like it, then skip if you'd like, though you'll miss out on the cool part. 😉🧐

I've done the calculations and I'll do my best with it. If there are any mistakes, please let me know and I'll correct them. 

I'll be using current time from 866-1100 AD and then add the date to when the Kingdom of the Wilderwest could've been established in Hiccup the First's time. 

I will be using the terms CTP (Current Time Period) and DFP (Dynasty Foundation Period) to avoid confusion.

Whew! Okay! Now that THAT'S done and over with, let's get to the average ages of the Kings of the Wilderwest to further prove (hopefully) which date it might've been. 

I've organized it into different sections. Before Hiccup the Third, there were 12 Kings of the Wilderwest. So I'll divide the number of years that the Dynasty could've lasted to the number of Kings to get the average lifespan that each of the Kings have to be in order for this to become plausible.

Now granted, some of these Kings could've died young (20s-30s), or very old, or in their middle-ages (pun not intended). This is the AVERAGE lifespan for each king -- not a literal statistic for each and every King. 

Unless, of course, if we were fanciful people, we might've theorized that there's some sort of magic spell in the Dragon Jewel that Wodensfang didn't mention that causes all of the Twelve Kings to die at the same age. 

In that case, if true, and if every King DOES INDEED die at the same age, then since Hiccup the Third dies at the age of 75/76, it would've been 900 years since the foundation of the Kingdom of the Wilderwest since every King would've died at the same age that Hiccup had died.

But we're not fanciful people . . . and that would be ridiculous. lol 😜

However, you're probably noticing that there are no 1000 Years among the statistics that I just showed above. That's because I had just remembered that the Kingdom of the Wilderwest collapsed a hundred years before Hiccup the Third's time. Meaning that if the Dynasty and Kingdom lasted for 1000 years, then only 900 years of that has passed as a kingdom.

<><><><><><><><>

Conclusion:

So . . . WHEW! That took a long time to write (5-6 hours, though the time could've been cut in half had I not done the statistics, but then where'd be the fun in that? lol 😜)

I apologize if any of this went over your head or overwhelmed you with informational overload. If it did, then I sympathize because I'm feeling this as well — and I'm WRITING THIS! 

So my conclusion is that, basically speaking, regardless of the Kingdom being anywhere from 600-1000 years old, 100 of those years need to be subtracted since the Kingdom fell apart when Grimbeard dissolved it a hundred years prior to the current events of the Second Dragon War. So, realistically, the Kingdom — and the 12 Kings (including Grimbeard) — lasted around 500-900 years, and when Wodensfang tells Hiccup the Third about the history of the Wilderwest, he includes the 100 years into the timeframe when the Kingdom of the Wilderwest was first founded.

So I guess that, in the end, the actual date and timeline will be left up to the fans to headcanon for themselves.

If you could take anything from this, what would it be?

What current timeline do you think Hiccup the Third could be living in during the Viking Age? 900s? 1000s? 1100?

And how many years do you think that the Kingdom of the Wilderwest was established (including the 100-year gap)? 1000 years? 800? 700? 600? 

Please share your thoughts! I'd LOVE to hear from you!!! ^_^ 

Thank you SO MUCH for taking the time to read this and I am looking forward to reading any theories, corrections, suggestions, discussions, answers, and/or questions you may have. 

I hope this article finds you well, and I hope you have a splendid weekend! 

Long Live the Wilderwest!

— Companion of the Dragonmark

[oolongteaboba]

# ◞ ˚ �� RED LACE (OR LACK THEREOF)

info. rocket raccoon/f!reader smut. est. 3.2k words.

you and rocket share the same bunk, so you've been wearing nothing but a shirt to get his attention. and who knows? he might like you back.

a/n. hi hello first actual post on here! quick comment for the fingering part, just pretend rocket stole peter's nail clippers LMAO, i forgot to clarify that while writing whoops. also, you can alternatively read the fic here on ao3.

In the past year you’ve spent with the guardians and living on the Milano, you began to appreciate each of them unconditionally; you were family, and they were yours.  Peter, a Terran like you, was a great conversationist, and you bonded over things you missed from Earth.  Gamora’s intimidating sometimes, but she acts like the sister you never had and has your best interests in mind.  You haven’t known Mantis for long, but she’s kind and gentle; plus, she’s starting to warm up to you.  Drax is some fun company, although most of your jokes fly over his head.  Groot clings onto you like a puppy, and the sprout insists on sitting between you and Rocket during dinnertime.  And well, Rocket is… Rocket.

Aboard the Milano, you shared a small bunk with Rocket and Groot.  Tonight, Groot was in Gamora’s bunk since she had Groot-bedtime-story-duty tonight, so you and Rocket had the already cramped bunk to yourselves.  Sharing a room with the two of them wasn’t entirely terrible, but you do have to deal with Rocket’s tech stuff being scattered all over the floor.

His bed wasn’t too far from yours, with the space between you only about two feet.  He’s working on a new set of blasters; you’re laying in bed on your back with your right leg over the left.  After being engrossed with his equipment for who knows how long, Rocket looks up from his machinery to glance at you.

“Christ, does it hurt to put on some pants for once?”  Rocket interjects, and you turn your head toward him.

“We share a room together.  You’ve seen me change before, and that never fazed you.  Besides, Groot isn’t even here.  It’s just us.”  He only replies with a huff and an eye roll.  “Besides, why do you care so much?”

Rocket scoffs, crossing his arms and furrowing his brows.  “I’m not the one walking around in a loose shirt and fuckin’ red lacy underwear.”

You avert your eyes from his as your cheeks grow hot, and you pull the hem of your shirt down mid-thigh to preserve your already damaged dignity.

“It’s all that was clean,” you mutter below your breath, just loud enough for him to hear, although from the look on his face, he doesn’t believe you.  “Plus, it’s hot in here, Rocket.  The air conditioning isn’t working correctly, we’re in space, and you haven’t fixed it yet,” you reply, uncrossing your legs.  He inhales sharply, returning to his blaster.

“I told you already, I don’t have the right parts yet,” he snaps at you.  “Go fix it yourself if you’re gonna be a bitch about it.”

“So the oh-so-great Rocket Raccoon can build bombs from scrap material but can’t fix the AC unit?”

“I ain’t a raccoon,” he snarls, and it takes every fiber in your body to resist the urge not to continue teasing him.  “And I told you this shit already: we don’t have the needed parts.”

“Y’know, maybe I’ll start walking around with pants on if the air conditioning is fixed.”

Rocket exhales and lets out a small pfft that almost sounds like a quiet laugh.  “You’re bein’ whinier than Quill right now, know that?”

“You’re so sweet to me, Rocket.  Have I mentioned you’re the kindest person on this ship?” You smile, albeit sarcastically, and the corners of his mouth instinctively curl up in response.  You catch his brief smile for a fleeting moment and make eye contact, but he promptly looks away in embarrassment.

(You might tease him about it later, though.  He’s smiling because of you.)

“Go to sleep, doll.”  Rocket absentmindedly shoves the machinery onto his makeshift nightstand with a slight grin still etched on his features.  His disposition has improved in the past year; he smiles a lot more, though he tries to hide it, and the guardians have noticed.  Not that he’d ever admit it, of course.

“What about you?  Aren’t you going to sleep?”  His eyes look into yours, albeit briefly, and they’re warm, brown, and pretty, and you internally berate yourself for not noticing them sooner.

“Nah.  You Terrans need more sleep than I do.  And you look terrible, by the way.”  You fail at attempting to stifle a giggle at his sudden change in demeanor, which Rocket barely notices.  

“Aw, thank you, Rocket.  Love you too.”  Your eyelids flutter, and you pull a blanket over your body.  “You might not be Terran, but you should sleep too, y’know.  You’re always reprimanding Groot for staying up late, you hypocrite.”

Rocket’s features soften; he shoots you a toothy grin, although there’s a thought nagging at you, telling you there’s more than just sarcasm in his eyes.  “Yeah, yeah.  G’night, doll.”

You shoot Rocket a smile that’s brighter than the damn sun before shutting your eyes.  Unfortunately, you’re asleep before you can say ‘good night’ back.

-

Three nights later, tonight is Drax’s turn for Groot-bedtime-story-duty.

The temperature in the Milano isn’t as nearly inhabitable as last time, all because of you and Quill’s endless pleas for the AC to be fixed.  Thankfully, Peter hates absurdly hot weather just as much as you do.  Either that or hatred of heat is a Terran thing.  Somehow, the broken air conditioning didn’t affect the other non-Terran guardians on the ship as much.

Al Green’s Let’s Stay Together plays faintly in the background; you’re lounging on your bunk, back against the mattress, as you read one of Quill’s childhood comic books when the door opens, and Rocket enters your shared bunk.

As soon as he walks in, Rocket scoffs and rolls his eyes.  “For the love of god, I fixed the AC as you asked.  Put some goddamn pants on.”

“Hello to you too, Rocket,” you give him a smile before continuing reading, too focused on Quill’s comic book to notice Rocket’s blatant gawking at your exposed legs.  Your leg props up on the other, leaving almost nothing to the imagination.  “And I said maybe I’ll wear pants.”

He jumps in bed, setting Quill’s helmet at the foot of his bunk.  After a job that included killing Abilisks, Peter reluctantly handed it over to Rocket for some significantly postponed repairs and upgrades.

“You’re lucky, know that?  You’re the only person on this ship besides Groot whose shit I tolerate.”

“I love you too, Rocket.  Although, I’m pretty sure you’d shoot Quill if he started walking around the Milano with no pants on,” you answer, eyes still glued to the comic book.

“The only difference is that Quill isn’t the one walking around in his underwear.”

“Rocket, I honestly can’t see why it’s a big deal.  It’s been days since you won’t shut up about it,” you reply, setting Quill’s comic on top of your nightstand.

Rocket looks at you before sighing defeatedly, with some feeling that you can’t put your finger on captured in his eye.  You swallow your spit, and Rocket returns to his bold, unapologetic self.

“Fine.  Fuckin’ hell, we get it, it’s your bunk, and you can do whatever the hell you want-”

He pauses.  Rocket’s eyes trail down from your face to your body, taking in every inch of your revealed skin.

However, it’s too late for you to realize what exactly Rocket’s ogling at.

“Are you… not wearing anything under that shirt?”

You blink, promptly closing your legs (undoubtedly knowing it won’t do or change anything).  The already small space between your bunk and Rocket’s seems even smaller.  Your heartbeat picks up in your chest; Rocket is still rendered speechless.  You’ll never hear the end of it, you swear.  His gaze meets yours, but you don’t answer.  What feels like an eternity passes before Rocket speaks up, breaking the silence.

“You dirty fuckin’ girl,” he swears, his tone both degrading and impressed.  Rocket steps down from his bunk and closer to yours, his eyes drinking you in.  From the look on his face, he looks as if he’s about to devour you whole.

“Rocket.”

Hesitantly, Rocket steps back, giving you space.  “Shit, sweetheart.  I’m sorry.  Tell me to leave, and I will.”  He’s reluctant, although the tent in his pants slowly grows, and he isn’t hiding it well.  “We can forget about this.”

“Wait,” you immediately protest before rationale can stop you, grabbing his wrist before he can pull away and leave.  “You can stay.”

From the look on his face, it doesn’t take him much convincing.  He knows what you’re thinking of (and knows what you want).  Rocket tenses; a few moments pass before he speaks up, unsure of what to do next.

“Can I touch you?”

You groan in response, both desperately and unashamedly.  Both your voice and body are tempting, practically inviting Rocket in.  He’s thought of you like this: both in daydreams and dreams, but he never would’ve imagined the moment (or you) to be more perfect.  “Please, Rocket.  I need you so damn badly.”

(Rocket’s definitely gonna bring this up later.  However, anything but him is entirely off your mind.)

He gladly complies, and his hands go underneath your shirt to meet your chest before massaging your breasts.  The sensation of his paws is foreign but welcome, one hand playing with your nipple as his tongue swirls around the other, gently nipping at your flesh.  He continues sucking, maintaining eye contact while your face burns from the intimacy.

The sound of Rocket’s mouth leaving your tits makes an explicit and wet pop sound, and drool pools in the corner of his mouth.

“Fuck, doll, I’ve been thinkin’ of doing this forever.  Couldn’t stop thinking about you since I got a look at that pair of that red, lacy underwear of yours and could barely keep my fuckin’ hands off.”

Rocket continues his ministrations on your chest, with one hand traveling down to your thigh, close to your puffy clit.  You elicit a formerly suppressed moan from your lips, much to Rocket’s inflated ego.  His pace is slow and teasing as if he’s waiting for you to break and beg for him to quicken his pace.

“Shit, you’re so pretty like this, all for me,” Rocket whispers in an intonation you can barely hear, almost impressed by how receptive and eager you are for his touch.  The ache between your thighs gradually amplifies from his praises, and you weaken at his attention.  Your breath quickens as his fingers trail up your thigh and languidly circles around your needy clit.  All words are stripped from your tongue, leaving you unable to speak.  Rocket’s fur almost tickles your skin as he marks love bites on you, hard enough to bruise.

“Fuh- fuck, Rocket, you feel so damn good,” you pant, air seemingly wrung out of your lungs.  “I need-”

You’re cut off by Rocket giving your cunt a firm spank, drawing out an embarrassingly vocal moan.  “Need what, dollface?”  He grins with a look of pride planted on his face as he gives your breasts and cunt much-needed attention, albeit slowly.

“I need you inside me,” you mewl, your cheeks feeling hot from the humiliation.  You know Rocket knows what you want; he’s eager to give it but wants to hear you beg for it first.

Somehow, his grin grows even more.  His slow circling on your clit stops, and you audibly groan, wordlessly begging for him to continue.  “I’ve barely touched ya, and you already want my cock inside?”

“Fuck you, Rocket,” you huff, heat building inside your lower abdomen and goosebumps growing on your skin.  “Please, I need you.”

He slips a paw inside your dripping cunt, and it takes a few seconds to get used to the new feeling.  “Gotta be patient, sweetheart.  You’re so pretty when you’re like that, know that?”

You nod, relishing the feeling of his fingers finding your G-spot, then slowly curling upwards.  Though his hands lack girth, he makes up for it with agility.

“Was this 'no panties' stunt all for me, dollface?”

“Yes. All for you, Rocket,” you answer absentmindedly, too focused on how good his fingers feel inside you.  Rocket’s fingers develop a languid rhythm, scissoring and stretching your walls to fit his cock.  You bite your lip to keep back a whimper but fail.  With every movement from Rocket, you feel yourself melting into the blankets and mattress, reduced to putty in Rocket’s hands.

“Keep going,” you mutter, surprised at your current capability to form words.  Rocket’s fingers gently press against your G-spot, eliciting a moan.  “G-go faster, Rocket.”

Instead of speeding up as you hoped, he completely stops, leaving you to writhe underneath him.  You tense up, missing the blissful sensation of his paws working inside you.  “What happened to you saying ‘please,’ huh?  You can do better than that, dollface.”

You tighten around his fingers, and you can practically feel the grin on his face as he waits for your pleas.  “God, fuck, Rocket, you know damn well what you’re doing to me,” you groan, heavy breaths interrupting almost every word.

“Try again, sweetheart,” he retorts, savoring the desperation all over your face.  Eager to feel more of him, you steadily move your hips, fucking yourself onto his fingers in response to his refusal.  “Beg me for it, and I’ll fuck you, just like you wanted.”

“Please, Rocket?  I need you to fuck me, please; I want your cock inside me so goddamn badly- please just fuck me already-”

Rocket, convinced by your pleas, complies and interrupts you by undoing his clothing and unzipping his pants while you whimper at the sudden removal of his now-soaked fingers.

He lines his hips up with yours, the look on his face ravenous; he finally pushes into you slowly.  You’re left to grip tightly on his shoulders, watching as his cock disappears into you.  He’s smaller than an average male human but relatively girthy, and you feel his tip brush against your G-spot.  You whimper from his entrance, feeling full as he completely bottoms you out, massaging your inner walls.

Rocket’s breath hitches as he slowly starts to work you open, his hands spreading your thighs apart for better access.  He groans, setting a languid pace as he ruts into your warm and inviting cunt.  You raise your hips a little higher in response, aching to feel more of him.  His current tempo is sloppier than before, now being guided by his pleasure instead of yours alone.  The wet sound of Rocket’s hips rolling into yours is pornographic and explicit; you can hear him fucking in and out of your cunt.  You’re sure that your wetness has gotten all over Rocket’s fur by now, but at the moment, he doesn’t mind.

One of his hands leaves your thigh to offer attention to your swollen clit, gently circling around it, while the other hand grips you harshly.  Rocket becomes noticeably more vocal as his pace quickens, albeit opting for low grunts and moans.  The pleasure builds up in your lower stomach, and your lower lip trembles as you grip the bunk’s bedsheets.

“Shit, Rocket, you feel so good,” you mewl, stumbling over your words while he erratically thrusts into you.  Rocket’s greedy for every moan that leaves your lips, hoping to wring every one of them out your mouth.  He grunts, pace unfaltering as your walls flutter around his cock, tightening around him like you don’t want him to let go.

“You’re doin’ so well for me, sweetheart,” Rocket huffs, his almost soft voice contradicting his frenzied rhythm.  You whimper and whine with each thrust, enjoying how Rocket fills you up with his cock, and how the curve hits your G-spot.  “Such a good fuckin’ girl for me.”

Tension builds in your stomach, and your toes curl from the sheer pleasure.  Despite Rocket’s unrelenting tempo, the feel of his hands and the look on his face is strangely soft and tender.  His fingers circle around your clit more quickly, and you feel heat spread under your skin.

“Rocket, I’m getting close,” you murmur, the burning coil within your abdomen intensifying with each second he pumps inside you.  With a moan, you let out a shaky breath as he rocks his hips into yours, feeling dangerously close to your climax.  From watching him loudly groan and how he haphazardly ruts into you, he’s also close to orgasm.

“Fuck, doll, you’re so beautiful like this,” Rocket praises, inhaling sharply as his cock twitches inside you.  “C’mon, sweetheart.  Cum on my cock.”

Without a second thought, you nod, succumbing to pleasure as Rocket pounds himself into you, his hand rubbing at your clit.  Tiny beads of sweat pool on your forehead as you begin to finish, and Rocket rolls a thumb over your nipple, almost encouraging you to cum.  Your walls spasm around his cock, begging him to do the same.  The feeling of him inside you, combined with the constant attention your clit receives, is overstimulating, and you’re barely able to hold back from coming.

“Inside me, Rocket,” you beg, trembling from sensitivity and euphoria.  “Please, cum inside me.”

Rocket only grins, a smug look forming on his face.  The white coil only amplifies, reducing you to a wordless, desperate mess underneath him until it finally snaps, and you come undone on his cock.  Eyes rolling back from the increased pleasure, you see stars in your blurred vision; you spasm around him, and with a few last strokes, Rocket cums inside you, emptying himself inside you.  His pace slows as you convulse around him, attempting to milk every drop of his cum, and your heartbeat slows from its high.

His last strokes are sloppy and frantic; Rocket huffs as he finally drains every bit of himself inside you.  Your muscles tense from aftershocks, and you hear Rocket silently swear.  With an embarrassingly wet squelch sound, Rocket pulls out his cock, leaving some of his cum to drip from your cunt, and onto your thighs.  Trying to regain your strength, you momentarily remain silent, basking in the afterglow, and he does the same.

Your breathing is labored, still coming down from your high.  “Sorry I got your fur wet,” you beam, your knees still weak from copulation, and Rocket lets out a low laugh.  You shift your body over to the far side of the bunk, offering Rocket space to sit next to you.  Without a word, he complies, his back laid against your front, and he sighs in contentment.

“I’ll shower in the mornin,’ doll,” he replies, fixing his messy hair, attempting to freshen up.  Rocket’s head rests on your neck; hesitantly, you put your arm around him, but he doesn’t mind it, although it takes him a second to adjust to the newfound affection.  You contentedly sigh, languidly running your fingers through his soft fur, and Rocket practically melts at the touch of your fingers.

“Y'know, I really like you, Rocket,” you quietly whisper, although just loud enough for him to hear.  Rocket doesn’t respond for a few seconds, leaving you in empty silence and a tiny bit of nervousness. 'Love' is a strong word; the word 'like' is weaker. However, right now, both don't fit right coming out of your mouth. It's too late to retract saying 'I really like you,' but before you can conjure a second thought, Rocket gathers his voice.

“Yeah.  I like you a whole lot too." Your face softens, and you wrap your arms around him, surprisingly being met with no protest from Rocket.  You softly kiss his forehead and doze off into slumber, Rocket huddled in your arms. Tomorrow morning, you’re certain Star-Lord would barge into your bunk to wake you up for the next contract, but for now, you’re happy to lay in bed and worry about it later.

[ddejavvu]

i think you just spun my whole world with dbf! jake seresin. like i’m thinking about him going back to top gun to teach and you happen to tell your friends that miramar is the PERFECT place for your spring break. and he thinks he’s going to lose his mind when he sees you strutting into the hard deck with your friends. and when you see him and send him a smirk, he’s getting up to talk to you and rooster would be like “you still got it, old man” and jake’s just grumbling about “if only you knew”

🤭🤭 gAh okay i'm horny <3

this post is 18+ (and so are its characters), minors dni. (cw: age gap, don't like, don't read. rooster's about 33-34 in the film, i think, so i'm assuming hangman is somewhere around there, too).

"Woah," Coyote's low drawl breaks Jake away from the concentration he's administering to pool, "They're not navy wives."

"Navy daughters, maybe." Rooster snickers, and Jake turns to see-

Oh fuck, Jake turns to see you.

You and your friends, finishing off college strong with a spring break trip that Jake had no idea about.

"I bet they've got fake ID's," Coyote watches as you make your way over to the bar, and Jake scoffs, putting his pool cue down.

"Christ, guys, they're old enough to drink. They're almost through college, don't be creeps. Just-" Jake's eyes meet yours, and he startles as he realizes you've turned to look at him, your eyes burning and laser-focused on him, "-let me handle this."

"Damn," Coyote laughs, jabbing Jake in the side with his own cue, "Didn't know you were into cradle robbing, Hangman."

"She's not that young," Jake huffs, smacking the cue away from his side, "And- and I'm not doing anything! Fuck off, guys."

He's halfway over to you when the unmistakable voice of Rooster whoops, "You've still got it, old man!" and Jake's jaw clenches as he closes the distance between you.

"Y/N," Jake raises an eyebrow at you, smiling sweetly, "Care to explain what you're doin' here? If I recall correctly, you should be studying for something right now."

"It's spring break," You gush, sipping on a beer, the same kind Jake drinks, "I forgot you were teaching here! I just wanted to see the beach."

"Hm," Jake ponders, "Really? The beach is out there. In here," He switches his pointer finger from aiming outside to the wood floor beneath you, "There's booze."

"Booze is good, too." You shrug, taking another sip, "So, how's teaching going?"

Jake's eyes break off of your own mid-sentence to watch a young pilot's across the bar. The man's eyes dip greedily down your form, landing at the hem of your skirt that Jake decides is too short.

"Nope," He huffs, reaching towards your hip to yank the dress down, one hand braced on your shoulder to stop it from exposing your chest, "Let's, uh- let's go outside, okay? We can see that beach you came here for."

You let him lead you across the bar, back to the front doors that swing open at his touch. You don't see the aggressive middle finger that he throws to his laughing friends in the corner, but when he's done with the obscene gesture the hand falls to your shoulder, guiding you down the steps and into the sand.

"I didn't come here for the beach," You confess, just when you reach its waters. The ocean laps at the shore, seafoam nearly crowding your toes.

There's a long sigh from Jake, then, "I didn't think so."

"Oh? Why not?" You turn on your heels, back to the water. Your red dress looks fantastic in the moonlight, and Jake has a hard time keeping his hands off of it.

"If you wanted to take a spring break near the beach, you'd go to Florida." He reasons, shrugging, "Everyone goes there."

"Florida scares me," You admit, "Maybe I just like Miramar better."

He snorts, "Really? You'd prefer a bunch of hotshot dickhead pilots breathing down your neck?"

"No," You shake your head, sand soft beneath your toes, "I prefer the one that doesn't."

"Sweetheart," He sighs, but you cut him off.

"No! No, don't do that," You point at him, "Don't start spiraling. I know you like me, Jake. I know you do. And I like you, too! You're not a cradle robber," Jake cringes as he realizes you must have heard his friends earlier, "I'm the one pursuing you. I know that you really care about me, Jake, that's why I'm okay with it. You respect me."

"I do respect you," Jake nods, keeping his eyes on the sand, "That's why I can't do this to you. I can't steal you away while you're young, while you could be out having fun. It doesn't matter what I want."

"I'd have fun with you," You urge, "Jake, I flew cross-country to see you! I have one week off of school, do you think I'd make the trip if I didn't want it?"

You can tell he's thinking about it. He's scared, you know he's scared of what people will say, what people will think, but you know he's right for you. He's kind, he's respectful, he's caring. You both deserve that, and you're more than happy to give it right back.

"Just.. try." You beg, centering yourself in the sand before him, "Please? Just for this week, and then if it doesn't work, we can stop."

He reaches out cautiously, and you melt into the feeling of his massive hands on your waist. They stay respectfully chaste, not too low on the fabric of your dress.

"You want this?" He confirms, eyes shining in the light of the moon.

"I want this," You nod vigorously, drilling it into his brain, "Do you want this?"

Finally, he seems to relax, weight lifted away from his broad shoulders when you promise him that he's what you want.

"I want this," He hums, leaning in to bump his nose into yours. The first kiss you share is beside the moonlit beach, as is the second, third, fourth, tallying up to an uncountable number. More are shared later, across the seats of his car, between pillows on his bed, and in the airport just before you leave, and each one takes your breath away. They leave you restless to finish out your semester and see him at your graduation, and a thousand more will later be exchanged in the comfort of your shared apartment.

[strangersteddierthings]

Fic Masterpost

General Fic Tag Ao3 Account - All fics with [Ao3] next to them can be found here. Reference post for Steve's BMW

Bad News First, Eddie - Completed [Ao3] Part One 🦇 Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Final Part

Shovel Talk(s) - Completed [Ao3] Part One 🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Final Part

Porcelain Steve - Completed [Ao3] Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six🦇Part Seven🦇Part Eight🦇Final Part

What's Eight Plus Seven? - On Going - [Ao3] Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six

The Interview - Completed [Ao3] The Interview (Part One) The Response (Part Two) The Conversation (Part Three) Untitled Song - A The Interview Tie-In Fic [Ao3]

No Regrets - On Going Part One🦇 Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six

Good People - Completed [Ao3] Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part

My Default’s Self-Destruct (Oh, I’m Not Used to Normal) - On Going Part One

Envy, Baby. Written for Rustypeoplekillz for the Steddie Summer Exchange 2024. Eddie makes a new friend and Steve spirals about it.

Steve and Robin talk about how Steve wants to be romanced, instead of always doing the romancing.

Eddie's over dramatic, Steve talks him down, and they're okay in the end :)

Steve reflects on how other people make the decisions in his life and decides, y'know what? No. Fuck that and fuck you.

Beg You to Love Me - Steve and Eddie talk for the first time two and a half years after they break up. [Ao3]

Steve pines for Eddie and carves a pumpkin for the first time. He is completely normal about both things. [Ao3]

Eddie left, and has to face the consequences of that

Steve has great parents and goes to therapy. Too bad he forgot to tell his friends that [Ao3]

Middle School Meet Cute? [Ao3]

One sentence and one phone call are all it takes for Steve to realize he needs to go after what he wants [Ao3]

Steve's sad, Eddie's an (accidentally on-purpose) jerk, and the miscommunication gets solved? [Ao3]

Steve gets Vecna'd and a terrible rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody saves him

Angsty Ella Enchanted AU

Steve finds it funny, the differences between him and Eddie.

#81. “We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you want to stop and feel the rain?” [Ao3]

#23. “Just pretend to be my date.” and #60. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me.” [Ao3]

#60. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to seduce me." [Ao3]

#13. "I dare you to kiss me"

Requested by Anon - Eddie catches Billy throwing Steve around in the locker room; it leads to an unintentional deescalation of the situation and a conversation Eddie's surprised to have. [Ao3]

Steddie Week 2023: Day 1: Pining [Ao3]

Anon Prompt - Robin brags about her boyfriend to Steve. He's a little jealous, because he wants to brag about his own boyfriend but doesn't know if Robin is safe to tell that too. Until, whoops, turns out Robin's BF and Steve's BF are the same boyfriend. [Ao3]

Steve doesn't want to be put on a pedestal. Eddie doesn't understand, and tries to reassure Steve. [Ao3]

Eddie's friends try to prove Steve's cheating on him. Eddie doesn't take kindly to them trying to ruin his relationship for no reason.

Plot Idea I’ll never fully flush out or write but gotta get out of my head or it’ll never let me know peace again. It’s basically Steve sent from the future going all John Wick.

Steve-focused ficlet exploring the idea of Steve becoming a Mean Girl because he learned his tactics from Carol Perkins rather than Tommy, and how he regrets the results of that.

Domestic Bliss fluff fic that ends in a loving blow job. Minors DNI. [Ao3]

Childhood Best Friends AU where Steve and Eddie agree to learn the elvish script from The Hobbit so they can pass notes and no one can read them. Things get a little messy when Eddie moves away with no notice but Steve takes it upon himself to learn Elvish anyway. [Ao3]

Steve doesn't think before he all but crawls seductively into Eddie's lap accidentally. There's also not much thinking once he realizes what he's done, or in the aftermath of it. [Ao3]

Steve, Gareth, and Chrissy Are Cousins [Ao3]

Steve, Gareth, and Chrissy are all cousins, and Gareth doesn't want anyone to know that. For his street cred.

The Steve, Gareth, and Chrissy are cousins AU gets sad (Sad AU Part 1).

Steve realizes he's the only adult left In The Know in Hawkins; Gareth wants answers, one way or another (Sad AU Part 2).

Steve doesn't attend a funeral; Gareth goes with Jason&Co to Reefer Ricks (Sad AU Part 3).

The gang arrives at Skull Rock and Steve learns Gareth's now involved. Robin learns the truth (Sad AU Part 4).

Vecna gives Steve the vision and forces him to make a choice (Sad AU Part 5).

Everyone learns they are cousins now and it goes well. Gareth makes his own plan to save the day. (Sad AU Part 6).

Wayne joins the fight and Gareth ensures that Max gets saved (Sad AU Part 7).

The cousins reconcile. Max and Steve don't (yet). It's as happy an end as a Sad AU can get (Sad AU Final Part).

Time Travel Fix It Fic

Class of '85 [Ao3]

Save Max [Ao3]

September Prompts 2023

Coffee Smell ○ Horizon ○ Foggy Mornings ○ Jukebox ○ "Kiss me or leave me" ○ "Did you lie to me?" ○ Bonfire ○ Recipe Book ○ Gas Station

[cheffe-cool]

I have too many of these to put in one post and I’ll probably make more too BUT here’s a bunch of incorrect tweets from the Aouv guys.

For anyone curious

Alistair’s pfp is The Beast from Over the Garden Wall.

Hendrys is Greg, also from Over the Garden Wall.

Isobel is Olivia Rodrigo (I could see her getting into fights in stan twt lmao)

Briony is Gwen Stacy from Spider Man.

Gavin is one of the predators from the predators franchise.

Finleys is (I believe god) from Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

Reid’s is Pam from True Blood.

Ima be honest I forgot both the name of the author and of the horror manga that Elinors pfp is (whoops)

And Carbrey is just some dude in a sweater idk I got lazy

[alchemistc]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday

I didn't catch this notification until after I posted so here, have another tidbit from a different 'still in the notes app' fic courtesy of @beefcakekinard

He's reorganizing a cupboard to make room for the massive crockpot he'd found for a steal at an estate sale (thinking of the stew he wants to make for Evan the next time the Santa Ana's are chasing at their heels) when he notices. Evan's protein powder, still balanced on top of the fridge because he's hesitant to claim the spot Tommy had cleared for him weeks ago. Evan's spare immersion blender, brought over because he'd seen Tommy's old-school espresso maker and wanted to try his hand at foam art. Unsuccessfully, considering both of them were avoiding cows milk at the moment. The spare set of Jeep keys looped next to the garage door, which Evan hadn't asked him to return after Tommy changed his oil, and Tommy had taken to touching on his way out of the house like a wife stroking a token of her husband far off in a foreign country fighting a war. In the living room, the blanket over the couch is tucked and folded in a way Tommy can never replicate and doesn't try, because he likes the look of it, hanging neatly over the arm of the loveseat. In the garden, a second set of gloves, too unwieldy for anything but pulling thick weeds. In the bathroom, the mouthwash Evan swears by tucked next to Tommy's aftershave in the medicine cabinet. In the bedroom, two hoodies Tommy has stolen and stretched out the shoulders of - a flavored lube in the bedside table that they'd both laughed themselves silly about after one use and Tommy hadn't had the heart to toss in the trash the next morning - three department issue tee's folded neatly in his wardrobe that Evan outgrew years ago and has retrofitted for sleepwear - a book on the bloody history of the potato on top of the ancient PS4 setup Tommy still hasn't moved to the living room. And more - Tommy can see them all in his mind clear as day, and his heart lurches fondly, warningly, in his chest.

(I forgot to tag other people in both of these, whoops - no pressure tags @kirkaut, @devirnis @herrmannhalsteadproduction, @middyblue, @princessfbi, @26-cats-in-a-trenchcoat, @firehose118 and anyway else who wants to play)

[honeybee-taskforce]

WIP(+WIPublished) Wednesday!!

GOOD MORNING!! No banner today because I forgot to move my new ones onto my tablet where I post from work lol, whoops. Here is a sneak peek at the next chapter of ‘not strong enough’ which was posted over the weekend and you can find here !!

Carlos swipes between every app that he has not checked yet, eyes staring at the screen, completely unfocused. He should text TK, he said that he would. The world stopped when he danced with TK and it is the lightest he has felt in years. He wants to chase that feeling again and again and again.

What holds him back is a sinking in the pit of his stomach screaming about how this will go horribly wrong. Years of taking care of himself and protecting the people of Austin have built a comfortable cement wall around Carlos’ heart. He hesitates to introduce it to the sledgehammer that is TK Strand.

What if TK is actually a terrible person and just knows some very nice people, all of whom Carlos loves? Tommy and Nancy, hell, even Grace spoke up and vouched for him. That does not mean he is actually perfect, though, right? TK struck gold by impressing the jackpot of amazing women in Carlos’ life so now Carlos has to follow it up?

It has been years since Carlos allowed himself to breathe and actually seek out a lover, or even a friend. The cement wall is brutal and blocks out everything he has convinced himself he doesn’t need in his life. Not until he has answers.

He sets his phone on the table and refuses to look at it for the next hour. He tries to busy himself with cleaning up some of the pots and pans that are dirtied in his sink.

Five minutes later, shaking his head and ripping off his dish washing gloves, Carlos is opening his text messages before he can second guess himself.

Tags below + open tag!!

Tag you’re it @heartstringsduet @alrightbuckaroo @lemonlyman-dotcom @nancys-braids @paperstorm

@im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @carlos-in-glasses @sanjuwrites

@falloutmars @never-blooms @your-catfish-friend @lightningboltreader @catanisspicy

@whatsintheboxmh @orchidscript @tellmegoodbye

[stevesjockstrap]

hallo hallo hallo, I am here to send you a prompt? If you’d like to do it? (You don’t have to, feel free to ignore this ask)

I feel like Steve would radio-in with everyone post-S4 after a nightmare or something, just to make sure he’s okay, but when he calls Eddie he sounds super upset by it even though he’s trying to play it off and act calm, and after Steve puts the radio away to go back to bed, Eddie goes “oh fuck no” and drives over to check on him in person?

Again feel free to ignore this, I was going to write it myself but I’m tired and have other fic stuff to work on so I thought I’d send it to you since you have requests open :)

have a good day 🩵

Hiiii 🖤 Thanks so much for sending this and for being patient with me!

Keep My Hands In Yours

• @stcreators event 05: dynamics whoops I forgot I was doing this

The ground shuddered under him and Steve looked frantically around at the group. “Move!” He managed to yell and leaped a few feet away, just as the dirt fissured under where he had been standing. Where they’d all been standing. He heard screaming and rushed back over to the edge, where Dustin was grappling to hold onto the edge of the crevice.

As he tried reaching for him, he turned into Robin. And then Max. And then Will. Their faces dirty, their eyes wide as they screamed for his help. As they lost their grip before he could reach for them and Steve screamed with them as they dropped.

Shooting up in bed, he was still screaming. His throat was on fire, his stomach in knots.

Knocking his lamp off his bedside table in his rush to grab for the walkie.

“All call check in. Repeat. Check in. Now. Over.” He realized when he heard his own voice that he should’ve waited another minute to calm down. Even to his own ears it sounded panicked and crazed. Oh well, as long as everyone responded he’d deal with their concerns tomorrow. His heart hammering in his chest, he waited for anyone to answer.

“Henderson clear. Over.” Dustin’s sleepy voice crackled through first.

“Wheelers clear. Over.”

“Sinclairs clear. Over.”

Steve paced his room as one by one they all checked in.

“It was a dream. It’s just a dream. They’re okay.”

“All good here. Steve, man, you alright? Over.”

A sob ripped out of his chest at Eddie’s question. After another long moment of trying to calm down, he knew if he didn’t answer he’d have everyone over here.

“Y-yeah. Yeah. Uh all clear. Good night. Over and out.”

He threw the walkie onto his bed and went to the bathroom, running cold water to throw on his face and the back of his neck. Letting himself ignore the hot tears as they came.

Eddie stared down at the walkie for half a second after Steve’s shaky answer. Then he was shoving the blanket off of him and looking for pants on the floor in the dark.

He’d never heard him sound like that before. Even in the middle of the upside down he was confident, in control and solid. Something was wrong.

Shoving his feet into his shoes, he went to their tiny card table to grab his keys and scribbled a note to Wayne. At Steve’s. Meatloaf in the microwave.

It wasn’t until he got in the van and saw the little blinking time that it dawned on him. Three in the morning. Steve must have had a nightmare. Called the check because it was a bad one and needed to make sure everyone was okay. He sped through town, cursing Steve’s parents in their Loch Nora cul de sac all the way on the other side of Hawkins.

He quickly parked next to Steve’s beemer and rushed to the front door, letting himself in.

The deathly quiet house sent a chill up his spine. He’d never really been here alone at night. Movie nights and pool days with the kids were never still or silent.

As he walked down the hall towards Steve’s room, he came out of the bathroom. He looked terrible. Face red and blotchy, dark circles under his eyes.

“Eds, you didn’t have to come. I’m fine,” he sighed, almost collapsing into the doorway.

“No you’re not.”

“Eddie… I-“

Closing the distance between them, he stopped his next lie with a shake of his head. “You don’t have to do that.”

Steve looked up at him with wide wet eyes and Eddie’s heart clenched. “D-do what?”

“Be the strong one all the time. You don’t think I have nightmares? Wake up screaming and look down surprised I’m not torn to shreds again? Huh? And I’ve only been through this shit once. You’ve-“ he reached out and took Steve’s shaking hand in both of his. “You’ve been strong for a long time. You can let it go now, okay? I’ll hold onto you.”

Steve let out a long breath and nodded, letting Eddie guide him back to his bed. This was new, but they’d been dancing around each other since Spring Break. Lingering touches and glances. Hurrying to look away before the other caught them.

Laying on their sides facing each other, their hands still laced together between them, Eddie watched as Steve’s shoulders finally relaxed from their protective hunch by his ears. His breathing slowed, but his eyes were still wide and never leaving Eddie’s face.

Taking the chance, Eddie slowly pulled their conjoined hands up to his lips, pressing a kiss to Steve’s knuckles. When he didn’t protest, he kissed across all of them before looking up into his eyes again.

“You take care of everyone else. But who takes care of you? All alone in this big echoey house.” He let go of his hand to push the wet droopy hair out of Steve’s eyes and off his forehead. Tucking the too long hair behind his ear, tracing down his jaw with his fingers. His gaze lingered on his lips, watching as they parted on a gasp.

“Eddie, please,” he breathed, so softly he may have missed it if he wasn’t staring at his lips.

“Anything sweetheart, anything you want.”

They searched each other’s eyes for a heart stopping moment before both moving at the same time. Eddie’s hands cradling the back of Steve’s head to angle his face up to deepen the kiss.

Kissing Steve was otherworldly. He could write dozens of songs about the way his lips move against his own. Eddie pulled him closer by his waist and felt his groan rumble through his chest. Softening their kiss, he pecked chaste kisses to his bottom lip then his jaw before pulling back.

Steve kept his eyes closed after Eddie pulled away. He was waiting for the other shoe to drop. For Eddie to remember who he was kissing. He wanted to stay in this bubble, this perfect moment forever.

He received a kiss to his forehead and it shocked him enough to open his eyes.

“Hi.” Eddie was smiling softly, his lips red and wet. He looked so soft, Steve wanted to kiss him again.

“Hi,” he said, uncertainly. His throat was tight again, new tears threatening to spill over.

Eddie noticed, of course. “Stevie. Hey. What is it?” He cradled his face again, so gently, wiping the tears off his cheeks as they fell.

Clenching his fists in Eddie’s shirt, he could only hold onto him and cry as he let the fear and worry and despair wash over him. It was strangely cathartic, crying in front of someone for the first time in as long as he could remember. Usually breakdowns were saved for when he was alone in his car or the shower, where he’d not bother anyone else.

“That’s it, let it all out,” Eddie said lowly.

It sent a new wave of sobs through him. He found himself pulled against a warm chest, tears soaked up by a worn soft band tee.

When the sobs subsided, the sniffling and tears slowed to a stop, wordlessly they moved as one until Eddie was on his back with Steve’s head settled on his chest. Deft fingers played with his hair, soothing the last gnawing doubts in his mind.

He fell asleep listening to the steady beat of Eddie’s heart. Everyone was safe. And now so was he.

🖤

Title from Everywhere, Everything by Noah Kahan, the bf has been listening to the album on repeat and this song is so steddie

[heepthecheep]

Inklings 2024- (Insert title here)

Whoops, I posted this last night but I forgot to tag you @inklings-challenge

I would like to sincerely apologize ahead of time for the formating. I can only post from my phone and Tumblr isn't accepting the formating from Google docs. I have no idea what this thing looks like on a computer and I promise that I know what a paragraph break is.

I managed my time really horribly, and I hope to improve for next year. I only got to go over this thing once and it shows.

I was also attempting to write something for a younger audience than I normally go for, because out of Lewis's works I'm most familiar with his Narnia series.

Aboard the New Eden, there is never a quiet moment. At dawn-or the closest thing to dawn: the flicking on of the incandescent bulbs startled awake a chorus of birds. The birds set off the wolves, dogs, and all other manner of dog-like things. Then the whole ship comes alive, squawking and screeching until breakfast is served. At night, the dark is full of insect song and the fluttering of leathery bat wings. It’s enough to cover the sounds made by a lone person. It could cover the sounds of many people, but as far as Ada was concerned, she may as well have been the only human aboard the rocketship. The crew existed in a world entirely separate from the live cargo in the great hold of the ship, stories above in the flight deck. They didn’t even come down to take care of the animals-they left all of that up to the Spitzes.

From where she was now, she could see one, a white fluffy thing with a curled tail. It awkwardly stumbled around on delicate hindlegs, struggling to pour a bucket of chum into a seal’s enclosure. The spitz grumbled as the fish finally plopped out onto the ground, pulling back its ears as the seal loudly barked. Placing the handle of the bucket in its mouth, the spitz trotted off on all fours. Ada waited until the clicking of the dog’s nails faded before she eased open the grate covering the vent in which she was currently crouched. She crawled out and stretched, wincing as she popped. Tiptoeing past the seals and their fishy meal, she made her way to another enclosure, this one for a pair of hippopotamuses. The larger of the two opened its mouth and bared its tusks at her as she reached between the enclosure’s bars.

“Easy, “ she whispered. “I’m not going to hurt you,”

She grabbed an unpeeled orange off of the ground and wiped the rind on her shirt. She took her fruit back to the vent and sat at the opening, tossing pieces of orange peel into the animal enclosures nearest to her. It wasn’t enough. She’d have to go out and look for more later, perhaps when they fed the elephants.

Ada jumped as something clanged loudly, uncomfortably nearby. She pulled herself into the vent and pulled the door closed behind her. She strained her ears, trying to hear above the din of machinery and animals, and her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. Footsteps. She tilted her head and listened: not from behind her in the darker depths of the air filtration system, not from out in the vast menagerie, but from above. The footsteps were too heavy for a spitz���s, too calm to belong to some escaped animal. It was a sound she hadn’t heard since leaving Earth, a sound that she had been dreading, a sound that could only mean trouble.

“Hello, Mister!” One of the spitzes called out shrilly. “Did you come to see our work? We’ve been doing good work, lots o’ good work!”

Ada slowly inched towards the grate, and peered outwards, praying that she wouldn’t be seen.

“Yes, I came to check on you and the others,”

She could see the spitz now, running excitedly towards the stairs to greet a young man. It was the same dog before, although it looked much happier than when it was working.

“Mister! Mister!” It barked, curled tail wagging furiously.

“But first, would you be able to show me where the supplies are being kept?” The man asked, reaching out to pet the dog on the head.

“Supplies? Which part?”

The man started walking again, towards the place where Ada was hidden.

“We have lots of supplies, but we’re only allowed to touch the stuff meant for the animals,”

“The vittles,” The man said. He glanced over his shoulder nervously.

“Vit-tells?” the spitz’s head tilted at the question. “Vit-tells?”

“I mean food. Things you eat. Where do you keep what you feed to the rest of the animals here?”

“Well, there’s a big icebox for all the meat on the other side of this floor. Most of the dry stuff is two floors down, ‘sept for the oats, which we keep up here for the hooved things”.

“I see,”

The man and the dog were eye-level with the vent. Ada sat as still as possible, taking small quiet breaths. The man’s eyes passed over the vent, but he seemed not to notice her.

“Do you want to go and see the supplies now?” The man turned back to the spitz and shook his head.

“No, I can find them on my own now. Thank you.”

“Are you sure?”

“You did such a good job of telling me, I don’t need to see it”.

The man patted the spitz’s head again, and the dog skipped happily around in a circle.

“Will the rest of the humans come down to visit us? We’ve been working so hard!”

The man shifted awkwardly and rubbed his elbow.

“I’m sure the rest will be down eventually,” The spitz’s ears and tail drooped. “We’ve been so busy, but we do appreciate your work.”

“Oh. Okay, well, there sure is a lot of work that needs to be done. You wouldn’t happen to have any treats on you?”

“No, sorry”. The man said, shaking his head again. The spitz scampered away, nails clacking over the metal floor. The man watched the dog go, then turned and looked straight at Ada. She stared back, stock-still.

“Who are you?” he mouthed.

“What?”

“Who are you? Are you one of the crew?”

Ada shook her head. “No- I’m with the spitzes”.

“Really?”

“Uh-huh,” Ada said. “A handler, if you will.”

“Well, I’m part of the crew, and I haven’t seen you around before.”

Ada slunk back further into the vent. “I could say the same for you. Where’s your uniform?”

“Where’s yours?” He squinted at her, leaning forward to peer through the grate.

“It’s being washed right now.”

“Which is why you’re crawling around in the dusty vent?”

Ada crossed her arms and scowled.

“That’s none of your business,”

They looked at each other for a few moments before the man spoke again.

“I’m Kaspar”.

Ada held her silence for a moment more, before sighing and crawling back out of the vent.

“I’m Ada. You’re not really with the crew up top, are you?”

“No, no, I am part of the crew…”

“You don’t sound like you do,”

Somewhere, something cawed out, setting off an echoing choir of screeches and cries. The two stood awkwardly, looking out over the menagerie. This time Ada broke the silence.

“Are you also not supposed to be here?”

“Here? On this ark?” He asked, gesturing to the vast room. “No, I’m not”.

Somewhere a donkey bayed forlornly, causing a monkey to start screeching in panic.

“I figured as much. The Spitzes wouldn’t know any better, but I do.” Ada said, brushing dust off of her shirt. “After all, I actually know-”

“Shh, shut up!” He hissed.

“Why? It’s absurd, you know. Breaking onto a rocket bound for Venus, hiding out amongst a bunch of animals,”

“Be quiet!”

“For some rich guy’s zoo-”

He pushed her into the vent and crawled in behind her, shoving her into the darkness.

“What!”

“Shut up, someone’s coming,” he whispered harshly. “C’mon, we’ve got to go”.

Ada nodded and started crawling away from the light. She looked over her shoulder, back towards Kaspar.

“Are you coming?”

“Yes, I am! I just wanted to make sure we weren’t being followed!” he whispered back. Ada continued through the darkness, Kaspar hot on her heels.

“There’s a spot ahead where it gets wider,”

A loud clang echoed behind her. Ada startled and glanced over her shoulder.

“Ow!” Kaspar swore under his breath.

“Watch out, the ceiling is low!”

Kaspar grumbled, before bumping into her.

“I said watch it!”

“I can’t see anything!”

Ada grabbed his hand and pressed it to the floor.

“Feel the pattern in the metal?”

“Uh, you mean the seam?”

“Yes. Keep your hand on it and your head low,” She whispered. Kaspar tapped the floor and nodded.

“Good, your eyes will adjust soon”.

They continued through the dark in silence. Behind them, they could hear the chattering of the spitzes. Slowly, the dark became less black, fading until the walls of the vent were once again visible. The ceiling was higher, high enough that Ada could sit up straight, although Kaspar still had a hunch in his back. Overhead, light filtered in through a different grate, along with the soft sound of bird song. She pressed a finger to her lips, listening for any indication that Spitzes or other people were above. After a moment, she dropped her hand.

“Okay,” she said softly, “Here’s my little corner of New Eden”.

“The vents! I hadn’t even thought of hiding in the vents until I saw you!” Kaspar exclaimed.

“Well, I didn’t think I could get away with hiding anywhere else”.

Kaspar glanced around the metal room and then pointed to the bedding on the ground and the small pile of clothing and supplies that she had brought with her. “You even had time to furnish the place!”

“Not really,”

“Hey, it’s more than I have! I wish I had thought of a hairbrush…” he said longingly.

“Where have you been hiding?”

Kaspar reached into his hair and pulled out a piece of straw, the same color as his messy locks.

“In the hay room,”

“Like…in the straw?”

“Yep! The day before liftoff I buried myself in the back,” He said with a grin, dropping the piece of straw into Ada’s hand.

“But then you came right out and showed yourself?” Ada asked, turning over the piece of straw in her hand. “Instead of staying hidden?”

“Well, the hay was getting used up. There wasn’t going to be much left for me to hide in.” Kaspar plucked the piece of straw out of her hand and stuck it behind her ear like a pencil. Ada snorted.

“So you decided to convince the dogs that you belonged here?”

“Correct!”

Ada rolled her eyes.

“It worked!” Kaspar exclaimed. “Earlier today I talked to one of them, and I got something to eat that hadn’t been chewed on by an animal.”

Kaspar knelt on the ragged blanket that was currently serving as Ada’s bed and smoothed out the fabric. He leaned against the wall with a sigh and closed his eyes.

Ada thought he had fallen asleep when he spoke again.

“What are you going to do when we reach Venus?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Ada said crossly. “Get off my bed”.

Kaspar scooted off of the blanket without opening his eyes.

“I’m going to get a job. There’s lots of work to be done at the menagerie. If there isn’t, then there’s plenty of work elsewhere in the settlements”.

“I see,” she uncrossed her arms and leaned against the opposite wall.

“So, what about you?”

Ada didn’t answer, instead turning to look down at the darkness of the vent.

“Ada?”

“I don’t know. When I left Earth-” she paused and thought for a moment. “When I left Earth, I thought I had nothing left. But now I don’t know.”

Kaspar opened his eyes and looked at her, even as she looked off into the darkness.

“How will I explain my arrival on Venus? Surely everyone will know that I’m a stowaway.”

“So? Stowaways exist, regardless of whether they’re wanted,”

“Yes, but do I look like I’m cut out for physical labor? Can you imagine me pouring concrete at some construction site? Or welding steel beams 500 feet off the ground?” Ada asked, clenching her hands into fists. Her eyes were burning from tears that she refused to let fall.

“Who said you’d have to do something like that?”

“No one, no one did, but I don’t know what I’m going to do!”

Kaspar laughed, the first laugh either of them had heard since leaving behind Earth.

“Are you laughing at me?” Ada asked incredulously. “Really?”

“You’re so worked up about something that hasn’t even happened yet,”

“And this is funny because…?”

“Because I know you’ll figure something out. You’ve gotten this far,”

“Without getting caught,”

“Yes, without getting caught! If you can make it here, you can make it anywhere.”

Ada finally met his gaze and smiled softly.

“I can make it anywhere,” Ada repeated. Though the tears still threatened to fall, her smile grew wider. “I can even make it on Venus”.

[spookyhollow1308art]

Completely forgot to post this whoops

but new mumu design :3 yes she is very fluffy

A friend recommended I name this AU a Mythos in time since I have dragons, werewolves, and other fantasy creatures in my au. I think it fits, but if anyone wants to suggest another name let me know!

I'll drop mumu lore here

So. Kinda took inspo from the headcanon that mu is Vanessa and princes child because it seems very canon in the game, given the hints and clues. Since my au Nessa is a werewolf, had to change mu's design to match the headcanon. Her breed of werewolf is a more "modern" werewolf, basically werewolf mixed with a golden retriever, the more modern the breed is the more it becomes like huskies and Yorkies and other dog breeds. Mu and Vanessa are both mostly werewolf with a bit of the fancy "modern" breed, making them look a bit more like dogs and having brighter fur. The prince and queen planned for an heir to the throne to help ease the werewolf and human kingdoms tension, but it already fell apart before the baby could grow up. The prince tried to flee and hide the baby, asking a brother of Vanessa to help send her to a safer place. He did, but it ended up taking her ahead a couple thousand years since he messed up the portal spell. She landed in "Mafia town" (before it was mafia town) stuck in a little basket with her red blanket that was left with her. A villager took her in, the rest of the island refused and was weary but they gave one person a chance to raise her. (Werewolves are considered monsters in this au, along with any non-human creature to humans.) She was taken in by a caretaker, and they tried their best to raise a fluffy baby they knew nothing about except fables and stories of werewolves. Eventually the Mafia came and took over the island, getting rid of mu's caretaker when she was a toddler and almost getting killed. Luckily she escaped, but is very careful and weary in the island. She misses her home, and is often ashamed of being a werewolf and feels guilty about it. She doesn't know where she came from, no one else does so she's very lost. A lot of the events that happened in her life like almost getting killed, the Mafia are very aggressive with her, and the townspeople would bully her for having fur, as you can imagine has caused her some trauma. She tries her best to live on her own. Eventually hat kid comes by, the events of the original ahit game take place but I'm still working through it- hat kid decides to not leave and gains a lot of friends, having to fix whatever timeline mishap happened on that planet that she encountered. She feels bad for mu and tries to help her, offering a new home and safety. She obviously isn't used to it for a bit but gets used to it after a while, and this is where the current timeline is. It's been a couple years, hat is still working on trying to figure out what's going on but is kinda slow with it (oops) and mu is healing, along with gaining some friends.

Oh and the red cape she has is the red blanket she came in when she was a baby, and she refuses to let go of it or wash it even though it reeks.. although she's taken very good care of it, she refuses to wash it. Maybe it helps her cope, and has the scent of whoever left her behind

[mushiewrites]

Just A Little Bit

well....it's certainly been a minute, hasn't it

but what better way to come back than lee!George week??? If you didn't know (or sleep under a rock), @wishitweresummer is hosting a lee!george week, perfectly named lee!GeorgeSummer (make sure to use that as the hashtag if you contribute)! if you click this link, you can find out all the details about the upcoming week! I got to do my own lee!george week last May and it was the most incredible thing, I honestly am so excited to see what everyone does!

okay, anyway, we're starting off with day 1 - first time!

this idea came to me randomly at 5:30 this morning when I saw a random text post, and it gave me the biggest shot of inspiration, and FINALLY cured my writers block! so much so that I...wrote a pretty long one. ha ha...whoops. aaaanyway, thank you to summer for hosting this awesome week and for cheering me on while you watched me destroy george in the ending, and thank you to my partner in crime @awkwardtickleetoo for listening to me whine about writers block for months, and for supporting me through it all AND reading this before it was posted. couldn't have done this without you both, thank you so much <3

OKAY I promise I'm done rambling, please enjoy the fic! :D

(lee!George / ler!Dream / ler!Sapnap : 4.5K words)

“Dream! Come on, I have to show you something!” 

Dream rolled his eyes as Sapnap called him from downstairs for the fifth time in under a minute, chuckling to himself at how impatient he could be. Despite being annoyed, he was also incredibly intrigued, and so he saved the video he had been editing before standing up to go see what all the fuss was about. On his short walk to the end of the hallway, he could hear George squealing and protesting, though he couldn’t make out what was being said. 

“What is so important that it couldn’t wait until I finished the video?” Dream called as he reached the thin railing at the top of the steps, clasping his hands around it and leaning forward to find where the two boys were. However, his eyes nearly popped out of his head as he took in the unexpected scene below him. 

In the living room was Sapnap, straddling a very squirmy George on the couch. George was screaming and thrashing around while Sapnap was beside himself with laughter through it all. They continued to fight as Dream quickly made his way down the steps, almost losing his balance as he refused to take his eyes off the two as he descended. 

“What are you doing-“ Dream’s question was cut off by a squeal from George, who was throwing his body around so violently it looked as if Sapnap was riding a bull. 

“DREAM! STOP HIM!” 

“Well, what is he-“ Again, Dream’s question was cut off by a scream, this time coming from Sapnap. George had attempted to knee him between the legs, and Sapnap had barely stopped it before it was too late.

“Well now you’re really fucked, aren’t you, George?” Sapnap leaned down close to his face, invading his space with a wide smirk as George’s eyes grew to the size of saucers. He shook his head from side to side frantically, spewing out apologies and practically pleading for his life. 

“No! No nohoho no! P-Please! Sapnap, come on!” George pleaded through nervous giggles as he continued to kick and squirm, attempting to escape the smaller boy in any way he could. But Sapnap held his own on George’s waist, clamping his thighs tighter together and giggling triumphantly when it effectively lessened the squirming.

“Can someone just tell me what’s going on?” Dream spoke up awkwardly, now standing at the end of the couch, unsure of what to do. Sapnap and George immediately looked towards the voice, almost as if they forgot the other was there in the first place.

“Oh, right! So, our best buddy Georgie here is- MHF!” George had successfully slapped a hand over Sapnap’s mouth, preventing him from sharing the information with their third party. Sapnap raised an eyebrow down at George, and no more than a second later Sapnap’s hands lowered onto his ribs. The hand over his mouth immediately dropped as George brought his arms to his sides, pressing them tightly against his body as he threw his head back, eyes screwed shut in what seemed to be agony. 

“George are you-“

“Oh don’t worry, he’s fine! He just doesn’t want you to find out about his little secret.” Sapnap cut him off once again, causing Dream to run a hand through his messy curls in frustration. 

“Shut UP, Snapmap!” George hissed from below Sapnap, articulating the dreaded nickname as he reached both hands up to try and cover his mouth again. Unfortunately for George, Sapnap’s strength was too much for him, and his wrists were scooped up into a tight hold. 

“If he doesn’t want me to know, it’s okay!” Dream blurted out quickly, seeing how panicked George was becoming. Sapnap shook his head as he chuckled, looking down at George with wiggling eyebrows before he turned his attention back to the blonde.

“No, it’s nothing like that.” Sapnap started, his chuckles turning into bright giggles as George struggled harder than he had before to break free. The older boy let out a scream, trying to talk over Sapnap, which in turn only made him more keen on exposing him. George continued to scream every time Sapnap attempted to even open his mouth, and finally fed up with the boy, he placed his hand harshly over George’s mouth. When the noise was finally muffled, Sapnap flashed Dream the biggest smile he had ever seen in their time living together.

“The big secret is that our little friend here…” Sapnap raised his eyebrows as his mouth hung open, pausing for dramatic effect to make Dream laugh. “Is extremely, devastatingly, ticklish.”

Dream felt his jaw drop slightly as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, no doubt looking like a lost puppy as his two friends watched his reaction. George whined behind Sapnap’s hand, squealing when Sapnap released his previously held wrist in favor of roughly squeezing his cheek. The pinching hand was quickly slapped away, but Sapnap made sure to keep his other pressed tightly over George’s mouth. Dream made his way over to where they were on the couch, standing over them and shrugging his shoulders at the two.

“…Really? That’s it?” Dream questioned, not understanding what the huge deal was.

“No, like, Dream. You have to see it. It’s kind of insane how ticklish he is.” Sapnap explained, giggling as George began screaming behind his hand again. Dream looked down at George, purely out of curiosity, and was surprised when the brunette immediately turned his head to face the couch cushions. He chewed on his bottom lip as he turned his gaze to Sapnap, questioning the action, but it went ignored.

“I’m serious! You need to see it! No, wait. Actually, you need to experience it. You need to tickle him, Dream!” Sapnap exclaimed, giggling again when George tried to buck his hips up to make Sapnap lose his balance. 

“No, come on Sap, I can see he doesn’t like it.” Dream spoke softly, craning his neck slightly as he leaned his body forward to try and get a glimpse of George. This only made him lean into the cushions more, now trapping Sapnap’s hand between his mouth and the couch. 

“No no, don’t mind him! He’s fine, Dream! Just scribble your fingers here!” Sapnap poked at George’s lower tummy twice, making George jolt underneath him and causing Dream to jump back at the panicked action. 

“Sapnap, no, we don’t have to-“ Dream tried again, shifting his weight nervously from foot to foot, watching as George fought for his life underneath the youngest boy. Sapnap finally removed his hand from over George’s mouth, successfully opening the floodgates to his screams and frantic laughter. George kept his forehead pressed against the cushions, leaving room for him to continue yelling as he blindly battled with Sapnap’s hands that were actively trying to render his own useless. 

“It’s fine! He loves it!” Sapnap countered through bubbly giggles, his voice growing louder to drown out George’s girlish screams as he finally managed to wrangle the small wrists down against the couch. 

Dream crossed his arms and tapped his fingers against his elbows in thought, trying to find the words to make Sapnap stop, when George finally turned his head away from the couch. This left room for the two to finally make eye contact. It was brief, only lasting a few seconds before George turned back towards the couch, but Dream knew immediately what was really going on. It wasn’t that George was uncomfortable like he had initially thought; it wasn’t because he hated it. 

Dream was incredibly familiar with George’s tells. Like how his nose would scrunch up whenever he tried a new food he didn’t like. The way George would mess with his hair whenever he got tired, always tangling small strands around his pointer finger without a thought. Dream knew that  whenever George would stomp down the steps to steer clear of him until he satisfied his inner hunger-beast. 

And he definitely recognized this particular George.

The deep red in his cheeks. The glassy eyes. The continuous whining through his protests that seemed never ending. Dream knew what this really was. George was simply embarrassed. 

Realizing this, Dream felt all the tension in his shoulders melt away, finally allowing his arms to drop and a smile to form over his face. He took a step forward, his knees lightly pressing into the seat cushions as he leaned his upper body over George. Already anticipating he would hide further into the couch, Dream brought a hand up to lean on the back of the couch to steady himself and used his free hand to run through George’s hair. Dream’s smile widened when George let out a high pitched whine at the feeling, angry at his body for betraying him as he leaned into the touch. 

“Someone’s embarrassed.” Dream stated nonchalantly, sending George into another round of loud protests that had Sapnap in near stitches. Hearing both boys giggle only made George’s blush spread, and he quickly hid his face back into the cushion as his face continued to rise in temperature. 

“Awh, is wittle Georgie embawassed?” Sapnap teased, squeezing his wrists a few times playfully to make George struggle against him more. To his surprise, George wasn’t fighting back nearly as hard anymore. Dream was still scratching lightly at his scalp, and the longer it went on the more Sapnap felt George relax beneath him. Slowly, Sapnap released George’s hands, silently observing as the wrists stayed pressed to the couch despite not being held down anymore. 

“You’re both idiots.” George mumbled quietly into the fabric, bringing his left hand up to cover his ear and the visible side of his face to hide his own smile. Sapnap reached out to grab onto his wrist, ready to pull it back down, but Dream stopped him before he could. Sapnap met his eyes in confusion, only to have his features soften a few seconds later when he understood the silent agreement Dream was trying to make. 

“Oh, come on, George. I can tell you love this. Just let it happen.” Dream suggested, receiving a high pitched growl in response. His hand never wavered from carding through George’s hair as he slowly brought himself down into a kneeling position, therefore freeing up the hand he was using to balance himself against the couch. He brought the hand down the front of the cushion slowly, allowing George time to stop him if he wanted to.

But he didn’t. Just like Dream expected.

“If you need me to stop, just tell me, okay?” George’s nod was almost missed, and would’ve been if Dream hadn’t been watching the blush slowly spread onto his ears. The tips of them were beginning to turn a deep shade of red, and Dream wondered if his cheeks were the same hue. He quickly dispelled the curiosity though, not wanting to make George shy away while in this very vulnerable position. 

“Mh mhhm.” Sapnap and Dream exchanged a quick glance to see if the other had caught what George said, but unfortunately neither did. Sapnap sat back on his heels, providing George more space to breathe as Dream did the same. The only touch left on George was the hand steadily scratching, with Dream’s fingertips lightly resting against the seat cushion next to his torso. 

“What was that, baby?” Sapnap tried to be as soft as possible, understanding the importance of keeping his tone neutral so as to not spook George.

“My…my hands.” 

“What about them?” Dream spoke next, leaning a little closer in to hear the muffled speech. 

“I just. I can’t keep them down once you start.” He practically whispered, bringing his other hand up to cover his face completely as he spoke. Dream moved his hand from the couch to rest it against George’s bicep closest to him, rubbing soothingly over the shirt sleeve with his thumb. 

“That’s okay, angel, if you need to stop me you can.” He reassured George, carding a little more harshly through his hair as a playful gesture with his gentle words.

“Well…it’s not that I want to. I just…can’t help it.” George let his voice trail off into a whisper, obviously embarrassed about his confession. He quickly tried to twist his body away from the two, but was stopped by Dream’s sudden grip on his arm. The older boy whimpered, allowing himself to be returned to his position on his back, facing the ceiling. His hands were still clamped tightly over his face, a poor attempt at blocking the two from seeing his blush. Dream and Sapnap just about cooed audibly at that, but stopped themselves before they ruined the calm atmosphere they were currently in. 

“Do you want me to hold your wrists down for you?” Dream asked. George slowly spread his fingers apart, meeting Dream’s eyes before speaking. 

“No, not you! Sapnap!” He barked, closing the gaps in his fingers when the two laughed at his outburst. “You think I want Sapnap to do that to me? He’ll kill me!” Sapnap sat up on his knees with a hand thrown over his heart like he had just been shot, offended by George’s accusation. 

“To be fair, he does have a point, Sap.” George giggled quietly at the comment, causing Sapnap to poke timidly into his lower ribs with both pointer fingers. Dream watched as George’s body jerked to the side, amazed at how such a tiny touch could produce such a reaction. 

“See! I told you he was bad!” Sapnap playfully slapped Dream’s shoulder when he noticed him looking, further proving the point he was previously attempting to make. 

“Shut up!” George screeched from behind his hands, moving them up his face slightly until he was able to lightly grip some of his hair that draped over his forehead. Dream shot one last warning glare Sapnap’s way before he turned back to George, delicately gripping his wrists and moving them slowly towards Sapnap; slow enough that George could stop it if he wanted to. 

But again, he didn’t. And again, it was exactly what Dream had expected. 

Sapnap took George’s wrists, moving them down until his hands rested against the couch on either side of his thighs. Dream sat up further, crowding a little more into George’s space in order to place both hands on either side of his ribcage. He looked down at George, searching for any sign that he wanted this to stop, that he was uncomfortable, too nervous, but Dream found none. And so, he lifted his hands from the couch and let them touch down onto George’s body, not moving them yet, but resting so he could get used to the feeling at his own pace. 

“Fuck!” George cried out when he felt Dream’s fingers press against his lowest set of ribs, throwing himself upwards as his back arched into the sky against his will. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned his face into the couch again, embarrassed by his own reactions. 

“I didn’t even do anything yet, George.” Dream snorted.

“I-I know but, like, I know you’re gonna!” George whined, throwing his head back when Dream poked his cheek to get him to return his head straight so they could see him. He kept his eyes closed, refusing to look at either of them but still obeying Dream’s quiet request anyway.

“It’s alright, Georgie. It’s just a little tickling.” Sapnap teased, vibrating George’s wrists softly into the couch as he spoke. George giggled at that, followed by a deep exhale he didn’t realize he’d been holding in. And after that much needed release, his nerves were finally calming down. 

“I know, I know. But it’s still, like..y’know, flustering or whatever.” George grumbled, peeking out of one eye to see what the two were up to. Just as he decided to do that, though, Dream poked gently up his ribs, directly up to the highest ones, stopping there when George shrieked in response. 

“Plehehease please please! No!” His laughter was louder now that Dream was focused on such a tiny, hypersensitive spot, unable to hold it in any longer. Sapnap giggled along with George as he made sure to keep the squirmy boy down, leaning forward slightly to put more of his weight into restraining George. 

“You’re okay, George. Like Sap said, it’s just a little bit of tickling, right?” It was Dream’s turn to tease him, relishing in the feeling of being the one to make George react like this. He pressed two of his fingers into both sides of his upper ribs, rubbing slightly to see what George would do.

“FUCK NOHOHOHO!” George was howling at that, the sound of heavy thudding coming from behind Sapnap as George drummed his legs against the couch as he thrashed. Dream wished he could whip out his phone and snap a picture of Sapnap, who looked as if he’d just found a goldmine. Technically, it was Dream who found it, but Sapnap’s reaction was just as good as George’s was. 

“Are you doing okay?” Dream asked loud enough for George to hear over his own laughter. He saw a slight nod but decided to pause entirely to make sure, not wanting to overwhelm George. 

“Yehehes, I’m okay, just…please, you hahave to move!” George pleaded as he let his head lull to the side, breathing heavily through his nose as he recovered from the mini tickle attack. Dream rolled his eyes as he watched George’s chest heave up and down dramatically, still surprised at the intense reactions such little tickling was causing.

“Okay, giggly boy, I hear you loud and clear,” Dream began, lifting his hands up and wiggling his fingers over George’s torso. “How about…here?” 

“Wh- NO!” George’s protest came too late as Dream tapped his fingers gently over his lower tummy, kneading gently into it and giggling softly to himself when George squealed in response. He felt his finger catch on the edge of his bellybutton, making George’s laughter jump an octave. Dream ran his fingers over the spot directly under it, back and forth, over and over, until eventually deciding to spider them out towards his hips. Sapnap bounced as George attempted to buck his hips into the air, squealing when Dream’s thumbs found his hip bones and rubbed into them roughly. 

“Oh, there’s good, huh?” Dream commented, looking up to Sapnap for confirmation while George was busy laughing under his fingers. 

“Definitely a good spot. I like to get there when he’s being annoying.” Sapnap answered, laughing when Dream tweaked his hip bones again, causing George to squeal through his hysterics. He noted the spot in his mind and continued his ticklish journey to the spots that made George laugh the hardest. His squeezing migrated up to his sides, eyes widening when George suddenly twisted his whole body away from Dream. Sapnap used his knee to press into George’s hip, trapping his waist down against the couch so Dream could continue tickling up his sides. Dream tested the spot further, letting his hands dip under George’s shirt to skitter cold fingertips along the warm skin. 

“Dohohon’t! Plehease!” George begged as Dream’s fingers continued their venture, making sure to knead over each and every rib as they climbed higher and higher. Sapnap watched in awe as George squeezed his eyes shut tighter, a few stray tears collecting together at the outer corners of his eyes as he continued to laugh himself silly. 

“Please? But I have to! You wanted this, remember?” Dream reminded him, using two fingers on each side to act as if his fingers were actually walking up his ribcage. George squirmed from side to side, as much as he could with Sapnap’s full weight practically holding him in place. 

“‘H-Hold my hands Sapnap! Dream, don’t tickle me too much pwetty pwease!’” Sapnap mocked, breaking out into his own laughter when George let out what could only be described as a lion cub’s roar trying to cover up Sapnap’s teases. 

“Stohop, idiot!” George pleaded through his laughter, kicking harder against the couch as he tried to expel the ticklish energy that was coursing through him. 

“Awh, Dweam, I think the pretty kitty is angwy!” Sapnap pretended to pout, sticking his bottom lip out as much as he could as he looked at Dream for fake sympathy. Dream gasped at the comment, feigning surprise at George’s complaints.

“The pretty kitty is angry?” Dream stopped tickling for a moment, removing his hands from under George’s shirt and bringing one up to rest under his chin as he pretended to think over his options. “Well, I think I have just the thing to help with that!” 

“Wait, no, nonono!” George cried out, throwing himself forward to try and counteract Sapnap’s weight to knock him off balance, but all he accomplished was giving Sapnap more of a reason to make him suffer. 

“You wanna play it like that, baby boy? Okay, I can do that.” Sapnap spoke flatly, stopping his moments for a second before throwing himself further over George, flinging his arms up and over his head, pressing his wrists deep into the cushions as George begged and apologized profusely under him. 

“Noho NO! I’m sorry! I’m sohoho sorry!” George tried to talk his way out of his impending doom, but it fell onto deaf ears as Sapnap leaned forward slightly, dragging his wrists up further until George’s arms were practically straight up over his head. The position had him completely stretched out, not only extending the area of his torso, but more importantly, leaving a very vulnerable opening under his arms. 

“Sorry won’t cut it, George. We want you to be happy! We can’t have our little kitty angry, now, can we?” Dream spoke over the screaming, ignoring the many apologies and threats that were now being thrown their way. “You leave us no choice, pretty boy.” With that, Dream lunged forward, letting his fingers dance under George’s arms with speed and precision that only a ballerina could possess. 

It was an understatement to claim that George lost his mind. 

George screamed out, high pitched and desperate as Dream’s fingers made circles under his arms, zoning in on the very centers. His laughter was hysterical, having no choice but to lay there and take whatever tickles Dream decided to make him endure. There was a brief pause, just to let George take in a quick gasp of air, and then Dream was back to the torment.

“Surely it can’t be that bad, George.” Sapnap chortled, watching as the small body below him writhed in ticklish agony. Dream took this opportunity to shove his hands inside of George’s shirt sleeves, using his two pointer fingers to gently scribble at the outer parts of his armpits, watching for every tiny jump and twitch from George as he did. 

“Yeah, I’m sure I could be doing something much worse,” Dream smirked, looking up at Sapnap with raised eyebrows as he began to spider all ten of his fingers under George’s arms. “Something like this, right? That’s worse?” 

“Wh-wait, wa-AHAHAHAIT! NOHOHO!” George was full on shrieking now, squirming and thrashing and throwing his body every which way to try and escape the torturous feeling. As Dream continued the tickling, George quickly lost his ability to speak, just blurting out little half pleads here and there whenever he got a second to breathe. His head was titled so far back the two thought he might snap it off if he leaned it back any farther. The tears that had been clinging to his eyelashes finally fell, rapidly descending down each side of his cheeks, right over his ears, that were burning hot from all the laughing. 

“Okay I think- woah! What- Sapnap!”

Just as Dream had noticed the tears and decided to put an end to George’s torment, Sapnap had other ideas. He let go of George’s wrists, allowing him to fling them down, nearly decapitating Dream in the process, in favor of reaching behind him to squeeze the inner part of George’s thighs. His laughter refused to go any higher, and so it went silent as he pounded his fists against Sapnap’s own thighs. 

“Okay, Sap, that’s enough. We’re not trying to kill him!” Dream reached behind Sapnap, quickly putting an end to Sapnap’s vice-like grip on George’s thighs. Sapnap rolled his eyes with an overexaggerated sigh, annoyed that his fun was ruined before it even got started. 

“I guess you’re right.” Sapnap pouted again as he climbed off of George, picking up his legs and placing them over his own thighs as Sapnap sat on the couch next to him. He rubbed at the sore muscles, giggling when bubbly laughter exploded from George at the action. 

“Y-You were supposed tohoho be nihihice!” George weakly pointed a finger in Dream’s direction, causing the two boys to laugh along with him when he pointed the complete opposite way of Dream, his eyes still closed as he took in quick gasps through the leftover giggles to try and steady his breathing. Dream slid his arms under George’s torso, picking him up and maneuvering a very limp George into his lap as he climbed up onto the couch next to Sapnap. He draped George’s back over his thighs, using his arm as a headrest for George. 

“I know, I’m sorry. It’s just hard not to get carried away when I’m tickling someone this cute.” Dream smiled down at him, bringing his thumbs up to rub the tears away from under George’s eyes. A moment later, George’s eyes fluttered open, his hands coming up to rub his knuckles harshly into them as he got used to the light again. 

“Yeah, yeah. Remember that when I get you both back, later.” George threatened, giggling up at the two when they exchanged nervous glances. “Yeah, that’s right. And don’t think you both will team up on me again. You’re both too smart for that. You’ll turn on each other, just wait.” 

Sapnap and Dream turned towards each other, smiles slowly fading into determined looks. Suddenly George was on his back on the floor as they both scrambled to run out of the living room, trailing each other up the steps, shouting threats and cursing each other as they made their way to their respective rooms, slamming the doors behind them. Not even a second later, George heard his phone vibrating like crazy on the couch cushions above him. He picked up his phone, smirking when he had messages from both boys, detailing each other’s weaknesses and vowing to make amends with him to take the other one down. George giggled to himself, standing up and walking over to where Patches had been sitting on the other end of the couch, snuggling up with her.

He had them exactly where he wanted them. 

(you can find this fic on ao3 here!)

[mylifeisactuallyamess]

Sanctuary part 2

Chapter 6: Ghosts of Kamino

A/N: I posted this on AO3 and forgot to post it here 🤣 whoops!

Warnings: Description of panic attack, disassociating, canon violence, Hemlock being an intimidating bastard, Stitch is having a rough time, mentions of reconditioning.

Word Count: 3.6k+

Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7

Masterlist

A soft noise brought you to awareness, your entire body stiffening as you tried to figure out who was in the room.

The infinite smoothness of Nala Se flooded your mind and it forced your eyes open. The Kaminoan was sat down, her long limbed body almost folded in half to sit in a human chair. Large, dark eyes blinked at movement from the bed and she seemed to suck a quiet breath in. A touch of relief reached you as the first groan left your lips. Your entire body was on fire, muscles screaming from the rough workout they had been put through recently.

“Why are you so relived to see I’m alive, Nala Se?” Your throat was dry, sticking and causing you to cough. Slowly you sat up, gently taking the offered glass from the pale hand that held it out.

She didn’t answer right away, her eyes travelling over the floor and back up to you while she tried to form a reply. “All the specimens are important,” she finally said and you paused mid motion.

“All? You mean the clones?”

“No. There are others.” You wanted to say you were surprised, but the depths that Hemlock would go when it came to prisoners did not surprise you.

“I felt them,” you murmured. Remembering walking past the large double door and feeling the faint shimmer of another presence, one that resonated with yours. “They are kept here, others like me.”

Nala Se bent her long neck slightly, gesturing slowly with an open hand. “There are others. But not like you.” Her voice was light and firm, breezing through the small room. “You are different.”

Taking a long sip of water you quickly assessed the creature before you. She didn’t seem hurried or anxious today. In fact, she was down right chatty. “How am I different from any other human you have taken blood from?”

“I knew you were special, from the moment you were pulled out of the pod.” Everything you thought you knew zeroed down to this specific point as you repeated what she’d said, your lips moving around the words as if it helped you process them.

“A pod.”

“Yes. Jedi Master Sifo-Dyas came to us, talking about a brewing conflict within the galaxy. He wanted to help his fellow Jedi.” Your fingers gripped the cup, the only solid thing that was tying you to reality. “He offered his genes to create more Jedi. We tried, of course, but the failure was widespread. Most of the units did not survive infancy, much to our dismay. Their M-counts interfered with the healthy development, Master Sifo-Dyas declared the Force was not allowing them live. Apparently it tipped the balance,” she explained quietly.

“What does any of this have to do with me?” Your heart beat erratically, tension prickled down your scarred arms and you began to chew on your nails.

“You were the only one to survive.”

“That’s impossible,” you scoffed. “Tech found that Sifo-Dyas was—was my father, not my…donor.”

“CT-9902 would not have found anything linking you to Kamino, because I erased it,” she stated as calmly as someone commenting on the weather.

You winced, but still your teeth pulled anxiously at your skin. “This is insane,” you told her with a nervous half laugh. “Why are you telling me this? Does Hemlock know?”

“He does not.” Tugging on your lower lip you rocked slightly on the bed. “I fear what he will do to you if he does find out.” Your thoughts were swirling, each breath hitched a fraction in your throat as your eyes lost focus. The man you had been told was your biological father, wasn’t your father at all. He had shared his DNA with the Kaminoans to make Jedi clones. They didn’t survive, none except you.

“Why did I end up with Jango?”

“Master Sifo-Dyas was worried his actions would draw the attention of the Jedi Council or others who might use this information to their advantage. He looked at you like the daughter he could never have, and I let him take you. Hiding you within the Mandalorian community was both a good and bad idea.”

“Why did he leave me behind?” You whispered, not sure if Nala Se would have the answer.

“Jango Fett did what he thought was best for you. With whispers of the growing hostilities, he decided to hide you before he came to Kamino.”

“Ridiculous,” you mumbled, blinking back tears that burned your eyes.

Nala Se leaned forward, her large arms dipping between her folded legs. “You must be cautious. Dr Hemlock is showing more interest in you after the incident with IC-1309 and IC-1262.” Your mind scrambled around, linking the designations to the clones and the fight in the training room.

“What will he do to me?”

“What he does to everyone,” she responded with an air of regret.

“Which is?” You prompted, watching the way she gracefully rose in a single fluid motion.

“Take everything he can from you.”

“W-why did you tell me this? Won’t he know you’re in here talking to me?”

“Dr Hemlock has left the facility,” she explained. “I have told you so you know to hide this part of yourself from him.”

“It’s not something I can control, the visions…” you trailed off, wanting to tell her everything and yet, still not sure if you could trust her. For the millionth time you wished yourself parsecs away, with a bunch of defective clones that had looked after you since they found you.

“I have altered your blood results in an effort to keep what you are, hidden,” she added softly, as though she assumed it would reassure you.

“What is he looking for?”

The Kaminoan regarded you with unblinking, emotionless eyes. “He is working for the Emperor.” You knew this, you weren’t sure how but this information wasn’t new. “I will do whatever is within my power to keep you safe.” You waited a couple of beats before looking back up.

“Nala Se.” She paused facing the door. “Is there a way out of here?”

“No,” she whispered, confirming your worst fears. “Not for us.” You let her go. Frozen on the bed as you tried desperately to stave off the gathering emotion that clawed at your chest, threatening to spill out in waves that had no end. Staggering to the shower, you quickly shed your clothes, diving under the stream of warm water and letting your tears quietly mingle with the drops on your skin.

It was crushing. Realising that, once again, you had no idea about your own past or who you were. Your hands curled against your arms, squeezing you in a hug that you wished was coming from someone else. You tried not to think about them, the Batch. It was agonising not knowing if they were ok, where they were or what they were doing. More than once it had crossed your mind that the Empire might have them.

Your legs gave out, the close walls of your tiny shower barely managing to keep you upright as you slumped onto the floor. Your teeth were chattering, a reaction of shock and stress mixed together while your body tried to muddle its way through. A soft groan left your lips at the tightness in your chest, each breath felt like you were pulling glass into your lungs. This will pass…this will pass…

Logic never prevailed in these moments, sweeping you away on a flood of intrusive thoughts that had you sobbing. The heels of your hands dug into your eyes, trying to press the horrific images of dead clones and empty armour from your mind. You despised the fact you were here, surrounded by everything your friends were fighting to destroy and you couldn’t do anything. Nothing. You were useless. Trapped like a womp rat in a cage with nowhere to turn, the unknown pressing in from all sides.

Your breaths quickened, dark spots danced in your vision and the shower suddenly become suffocating. You didn’t even turn it off, spilling out from the cubicle to lay bare and wet on the floor as you shivered.

This hell was your life now. Who could say for how long.

You waited a few days. Staring at the greys walls in a blissful state of disassociation. You could barely bring yourself to eat, it all tasted like ash in your mouth anyway. Crying did nothing to alleviate the pressure in your mind, so you spent all the time trying to distance yourself from it.

Until the day Scorch came back.

His grey and sunshine yellow armour splashing across your eyes so harshly you had to squint for a moment. Something had changed. His presence felt darker, more threatening and you shrank away from him. “Up.” He demanded harshly through the vocoder. “Move.” The end of his blaster jabbed you in the shoulder and you felt that warm flare of anger spark in your gut. You held onto it, relishing in something that wasn’t lifeless and hollow within you. You quietly followed him down the corridor, eyes drawn to the double doors on your left. You could feel them, bright spots at the edge of your senses, as though they were just beyond your fingertips.

The red glow of the barriers made all the tiny hairs on your body stand on end, an uncomfortable feeling and one you wished would end as quickly as possible. Scorch led you out the other side, turning left this time and leading you to a turbo lift. The doors opened and the light sucking black armour of Niner was revealed, a shadow in the glaring whiteness of the lift. Scorch seemed to hesitate, a swift flare of frustration rose from him but he pushed you into the lift anyway.

Niner’s visor turned to look at you, the blue against the black was unsettling and you wrenched your gaze away to watch the lights on the lift display change. Scorch shifted beside you, seemingly adjusting his position as casually as possible, but then you sensed Niner tense up behind your shoulder. They were communicating within their helmets, much like the Batch could.

The lift glided to a stop and the door opened smoothly. “Move out,” Scorch practically snarled. You went first, stopping after a few paces when you realised you had no idea where to go.

A hand gripped your arm and you yanked yourself free. “Don’t touch me, di’kut.” Niner pulled back his hand, helmet tilting as he regarded you.

“Now where did you learn that word, verd’ika?” Your anger flared at the veiled insult in his tone but Scorch shoved you in the back.

“Enough. Don’t make me change my mind.” He wasn’t looking at you, his helmet facing Niner.

The shadow clad clone retreated a step, a sigh coming through his helmet. “Fine.”

You were still seething, making a note to take Scorch’s blaster and shove it where the sun didn’t shine, when a door a few meters away opened.

His blue eyes were like shards of ice. Now they narrowed, pining you to the spot and your steps ground to a halt. Doctor Hemlock’s presence rolled over your senses like oil slicks over water. Thick and cloying it muted everything, snuffing out your anger and replacing it with fear.

“So good of you to join us.” His voice was like a hydrosnake hissing in your ear. The unspoken threat of his menace, a shadow on every word and it had you wanting to flee in the other direction. “Escort her inside.” Hemlock turned and you had no choice but to follow, looking at the clasped hands behind his back. His black gloved hand flexed, clearly trying to ease some discomfort he suffered from.

The commandos flanked you, Niner on one side and Scorch on the other, giving you nowhere to run. As if you could anyway.

It took you a moment to realise where you were, but when you did, the dread raked forcefully down your spine. A chill permeated the air, filling you with something cold and lifeless that spread down your limbs. The room was larger than you thought, no mist shrouded your surroundings and the red glow was muted to the four large tanks on the edges of the platform. The machines you had seen in your nightmare were huge, not leaving much room to move around. Bulky and intimidating, the nearest one to you had dark stains near the straps and you swallowed down a nervous lump in your throat.

Hemlock looked around, like a man surveying a kingdom, his attention running over the tanks and for the first time you noticed the screens. Each one had a read out for the occupants vitals and your stomach flipped in disgust.

A presence loomed behind you as Niner almost pressed his armoured chest into your back. Clearly an effort to keep you in place. You’d rather take your chances with the commandos than you would the Doctor. His presence was twisted into something dark and ugly, something that screamed at you to run away.

“You have been holding out on me.” Hemlock turned slowly on his heel, his eyes running over the equipment until it finally settled on you. He cradled his gloved hand in the other, a weirdly vulnerable gesture coming from a man who held nothing humane within him.

The ability to speak had fled, Nala Se’s recent revelation about your origins, kept your lips tightly sealed. Trepidation made your insides quiver as he took a threatening step in your direction. He looked almost disappointed when you didn’t respond. “No curiosity?” He asked in that liquid velvet tone. “Where is the fire you brought with you?” He stepped closer, causing your heart to skip a beat and your breath to hitch in fear. He terrified you.

Hemlock hummed quietly in contemplation, so close now, you could taste the rank tang his presence gave you. The lines on his forehead were thrown into sharp relief, tracking like permanent scars across his skin.

“I have spoken to the Emperor, about you.” He spoke softly but you were not in danger of missing a single word. Still you kept your lips pressed together, watching him step even closer to you. You sunk into Niner, hating how the clone was stopping you from leaning away as Hemlock tipped his head towards you, bringing his face uncomfortably close. “He knows what you are.”

You trained your gaze over his shoulder, trying desperately not to react to the whispered words as they ghosted across your throat. “He has been watching you for a while now,” Hemlock continued, turning his face so he could gauge your reaction. “I have been granted permission to bring you to your full potential. I was told how invaluable you would be to our efforts here.”

“I will never help you!” The words were like acid, spilling from you in a rush. You were breathless, struggling to fill your lungs with air that didn’t make you choke.

“There she is,” he murmured, drawing close enough to brush his nose along your cheek for a brief second. When he stepped back you were helpless against the power of his clear blue eyes, reluctantly magnetising your own to them. He gave the smallest smile but it did nothing to soften the severe features of his face. “I apologise, for giving you the assumption, that you had a choice.” His gaze drifted and firm hands closed around your arms before you felt their intention to grab you.

Instantly you reacted, heaving your body in the hope one of the clones would lessen their grip, but it felt like you were fighting statues. They were rigid, their hold on you like beskar cuffs. Hemlock watched with a sick satisfaction in his expression, allowing you the illusion you could fight, when in fact you were as helpless as a babe. You tried to find something on the smooth floor to dig your heels into when the commandos moved you to stand beside one of the massive machines. Your heart was pounding in your ears as you eyed it, hoping your intuition was wrong.

“Do you know what these do?” Hemlock asked you, his tone mild and conversational. Again, you refused to answer. Blowing an exhale through your nose and glaring at him with as much hatred as you could muster. “This machine has the potential to reshape an individual, to wipe the slate clean, so to speak.”

A dull memory surfaced, one of a clone in a box. He had no name, no designation…he had been wiped clean. You tried again to shake off Scorch and Niner, even though your exhaustion was growing. You refused to be erased. To have your memory wiped until you couldn’t remember anything except what Hemlock told you. To lose what little shreds you had of yourself; the brief months of happiness with the Batch, with Tech, was soul wrenching. Tears teased the corners of your eyes and a small whimper broke free as you squirmed.

“You know what that means.” He looked pleased at your reaction.

“You can’t do this!” The smile that toyed with his lips became crueler.

“But I can. No one can stop me.” He backed away, curling his hands behind him as the triumph gleamed in his eyes. He gave a nod to the clones before turning away and some tether of anger forced you to speak.

“You are just another monster, in a long line of monsters,” you shouted. “Whatever you do to me, will not break me.” Hemlock’s shoulders flexed slightly, his hands gripped each other and you thought he was going to continue walking away.

He turned, a deep lined frown marked his brow, his eyes were so intense they almost glowed as they burned into you. He stepped forward and you automatically tried to shrink away, but Scorch and Niner still had a firm grip on your arms.

Hemlock sighed, heavily. The heat of his gaze tracked over your features, making you more nervous the longer he scrutinised you.

“I admire your sentiment,” he spoke softly, reaching out to run his fingers along the tense edge of your jaw. You jerked away, revolted by the feel of skin on yours, but he snatched at your chin with a bruising grip. “But you have never faced a monster, quite like me.” The volume of his voice did not changed but his words became harder, losing the pillowed edge he usually softened them with. “And, I can assure you…” he sucked in a breath, revelling in how helpless you were against him. “You will break.” His fingers pressed painfully into your cheeks, forcing your jaw to open. He watched you try to fight his grip, gaze trained on your mouth, a faint curl lifted his lip when he succeeded in causing enough pressure so you had to comply. “See?” Hemlock’s velvet tone teased your ears. “No one goes against me…” his eyes locked with yours. “And wins.”

The Doctor finally released your face, the sting in your cheeks a hateful reminder of how helpless he made you feel. “Put her in.”

Your body reacted. You had no idea what you were saying, words spilled forcefully from your mouth. Your feet left the floor, kicking and hitting whatever you could reach, but it did no good. You were pleased to hear Scorch grunt with exertion while he fought your legs into the bindings. Niner had a harder time with your arms as you arched your back and tried to find purchase on his armour with your fingers.

“Hu’tunn!” You screamed, spitting at Niner. You were too worked up to notice he froze beside you, or the way Scorch looked at him from the bottom of the machine. “Ni’duraa!” The bindings rattled with every jerk you gave, ignoring the pain as they lashed tightly against your skin. The tangy smell of blood reached your nostrils but you didn’t care. You just wanted out of this machine.

“A fascinating display,” Hemlock murmured. His soft voice cutting through the screaming chaos in your mind. Your entire body was pounding with each frightened pulse in your chest. Being restrained like this — trapped with no way of getting out — made your panic a living, breathing creature. One you thought you had left behind.

“Please,” you whispered through dry lips, eyes searching for Niner’s visor. Hemlock followed your gaze, his glacial eyes narrowing for a moment.

“You will remain here until you give me what I want.”

Your arms were still moving, shifting and slicing your skin on the restraints. Tears slid out of your eyes, wetting the inside of your ears.

“What do you want from me?” You cried out to Hemlock, desperate to be free while hating how pathetic you sounded.

He smirked, bending at the waist to lean over you slightly. “I want complete control over you.” Hemlock reached in, pressing his thumb in the middle of your forehead. “You have something hidden inside you that I want, a gift you will not acknowledge.” You tried not to sob, grinding your teeth against the urge to wail, ignoring the pain he was creating in your head. “You have secrets,” he breathed, clearly enjoying the reaction he was getting from you. “And they will belong to me, eventually.” You hiccuped quietly, eyes fluttering as the pressure between them vanished and he straightened. “Proceed.”

The machine hummed to life, causing your muscles to tense as you readied yourself for what was to come.

But no amount of bracing could stop the searing agony that ripped through your body, and stole who you were.

[postmail]

hey guys i love you. its my birthday in three days have some queeshmael (and other assorted stand-alone ishmaels and queequegs) moby dick fanarts that ive drawn over the course of like... several months that i never posted because i thought they looked like shit. and tbh i still do. but also theres beauty in everything and also also i need to lead by example of fearlessness in posting shitty ass fanart just for funsises. just because it makes me happy. some of these are outdated but idgaf. enjoy inconsistent character designs lol

its under the cut cause uh wow thats actually a lot more than i expected? whoops?

okay funny story i actually lied up there a little bit i drew this several months ago and was so madly in love with how it turned out that i never posted it because i didnt want the inevitable lack of attention to sour it for me. its a little outdated now but i still love it, i just want to put here so i never lose it. ishmael please go to therapy

newer art yet somehow even more outdated designs? i think i was trying to be a bit more experimental and didnt like how they came out. i still dont like the designs very much but looking back now i dont think the art itself is actually that bad.

never posted because i just couldnt get the anatomy quite right. i actually kind of miss when i colored grays like this idk how i forgot that actually wait i should start doing that again-

this one was for mermay, just pure silliness and cringe for the soul. more of that awesome gray shading line stuff that i need to start doing again, but i didnt like how queequeg's face looked. and also i think i felt a bit silly about this? like i thought it was too cringe or something? idk why tho its kinda cute to me now. best of wishes to ishmael in his goal to fuck that fish man

more inconsistent queequeg designs! i really liked this one when i first drew it, but i thought it was too small to post on its own, being just a itsy little doodle for shading practice. now i can post it :). wonder who it is thats talking to him?

another little drawing! this one i never posted because 1) i fucked up when drawing it and accidentally drew it way too small and 2) i accidentally made it waayy too similar to another moby dick fanart by another more popular user and i didnt want other ppl accusing me of copying or smthin... i jusr didnt think this piece was particularly worth the risk of that. i think its fine now tho.

incredibly shitty doodle i really only made for myself ft. incredibly innacurate drawing of a sperm whale. ngl i still think the joke is funny tho.

shhh dont tell the cringe police about this one but this is a queeshmael fankid i made. her name is rachael and she cannot make normal facial expressions to save her life. she loves listening to her dad infodump its interesting to her. she knows so many incorrect facts about whales! whoopie!

this might have been a valentines special? idk. i was gonna redraw it but then i forgor. let this be a lesson to you: finish your drawings, or else you'll only have the older version to show to people (its okay i still like this a little bit)

oh shit i ran out ok bye guys hope you liked your gay whalers peace and love on planet earth