#like whatever ill live ill move on its whatever man but also im biting you so hard

[sucktacular]

Finds out about the most perfect concert ever in May (I love TBM and boyfriend loves Essenger)

The tickets:

I'm going to kill you AND myself fuck offffffffffff

[beomglocks]

happy (very) 'belated' father’s day

summary : the only father willing to come to the dinner

pairing : dilf neighbor!soobin x (legal)!reader x beomgyu (?)

warnings & other: i wrote the day after fathers day, the title is edited bc im posting this like WAY later LOL, threesome (?), degradation, some beomgyu (no incest), sub!beomgyu if you squint like really fucking hard, definitely not a normal relationship, slight exhibitionism, some possessiveness, DON’T read if you’re uncomfortable with age gaps, edit: REwriting this, this one is for the dilf soobin stans, eat up, don't say i don't feed yall, enjoy <3, kind of proofread

w/c : ~4k

you realize it now.

after living side by side with mr. choi soobin and his son, beomgyu, for a couple of weeks, you’ve started to realize something quite interesting.

1. your mother has a liking for tall lean men.

2. she also has a liking for trying to set you up with the tall lean mens’ son.

now, you wouldn't say you're exactly opposed to getting close to beomgyu. he's conventionally attractive and he seems like a nice boy but you're very much more attracted to the one who created him. it made sense after all.

"give these to mr. choi for me?" your mother all but shoves the roses and chocolates in your arms. you look down quizzically at such gifts. "it's not valentine's day.." you trail off.

you have a strange feeling that soobin would be put off by such acts, not seeming to be as out there as your mother. she doesn't care.

"it's fathers day..well it was...yesterday," she shrugs, fixing her bombshell red lipstick. why was she doing herself up? well a certain mr. choi was coming over.

despite the fact that your own father was out of the picture, that didn't stop your mom from wanting to celebrate every holiday in existence. unfortunately, the only willing father in town to partake in your mother's antics was mr. choi.

he liked to rile her up, you notice. soobin liked to toy with your mother's clear affection towards him, just as he did you. he also liked to throw it in your face sometimes. you didn't say what you observed but you knew he liked to make her feel wanted by a much younger, much more handsome man.

without another word, you decide to give the outlandish gifts to your neighbor. you sigh, looking down at the gifts. some assorted chocolates, nice flower arrangements, and what seems to be a sealed note? you want to roll your eyes but a part of you wonders if soobin would really like these kinds of things.

when you get to the door and ring the bell, the door swings open and there's stands the man himself. he's more put together than you at the moment so you feel out of place even at the front step of his house.

"always a pleasant surprise~" he smiles. his eyes trail down to the gifts in your arms. "for me?" his eyes grow wide and his pouty lips, the ones which you suddenly can't stop staring at since they seemed to be stained cherry red, lay slightly agape.

"from my mom," you deadpan, holding the gifts out. "she's generous~" "overbearing," you correct. "we seem to have different views then," he shrugs. "where's my gift from you though? this can't be all," he ponders in faux thought.

you smile shyly, looking down in embarrassment. "what did you get me baby?" he teasingly leans down closer to you to properly see your face. "could it be perhaps-"

before soobin can place a hand on you, beomgyu comes from downstairs. he's looking sharp, which suits him a lot, you admit. his hair is parted, giving you a teasing view of his forehead. regardless of the fact that he's wearing casual clothes, a stark contrast from his father who dawns an all black attire, beomgyu still manages to make it work for him.

"we'll be seeing you at the dinner," soobin clears his throat, noticing your apparent staring at his son. you can tell that he feels off put by your slight attraction to beomgyu. however small or minuscule it may be its still there to him.

the dinner goes almost exactly how you thought it would. soobin and your mother hit it off, talking about whatever they could to distract themselves from their children for a while. to your surprise soobin barely interacts with you. he seems too occupied with entertaining your mom to pay you any mind.

you're not sure why but this bothers you. beomgyu is occupied in the bathroom at the moment so you can't help but glance in their direction every couple of seconds. your mom is currently leaning against soobin's broad shoulder, laughing at something he's previously said. so he’s a comedian.

you watch as he looks down at her with a satisfied smile on his face. you bite the inside on your cheek and as if on cue, soobin looks up in your direction and smirks. it's almost as if he's taunting you. you bite down harder until you taste something metallic in your mouth.

you're not sure where this feeling of jealously is coming from and you know it's not healthy but you can't help it. maybe you've gotten too attached to your older neighbor in these past couple of weeks.

beomgyu comes out of the restroom with a sigh, walking back into the living room where you are. he can feel a weird tension in your general area but decides not to comment on it. suddenly you stand up, catching beomgyu off guard.

"come on beomgyu!" you say loud enough for everyone to hear especially soobin. the man in question practically pauses in speech midway to look over at you and his son. he eyes you both, mainly giving you a glare that will be engraved in your mind but you don't care. he needs a taste of his own medicine.

"come on let's go to my room, i need to show you something~" you urge him along. meanwhile, you say those words while staring straight at soobin. you hear your mom assure him that it's ok, "the kids are doing their own thing." you knew you were being childish and petty but if soobin wanted to fuck around with you this is what he would have to deal with as well.

you drag beomgyu along to your room who seems quite eager to be in this position. all he knows is that there's a weird tension between you and his father but that's as far as his knowledge goes.

when you both arrive at your room you close the door behind you and lean back on it. "is everything alright?" beomgyu hesitantly asks. you sigh, ushering him along to sit on the bed with you. he looks around subtly at all the little items in your room. everything seems to reflect you well, in his opinion. "well.." you try to stall.

you look up at him through your lashes. "you like me right?" beomgyu stares at you with wide eyes, "i-i mean yeah?" he stutters at your boldness.

"then lets try something," you smile at him, casually pulling your shirt over your head. "let's see how long it takes for your dad to come see us in this position," you say to yourself.

soobin doesn't need to be a rocket scientist to know what's going on here. he knows you're being a brat on purpose but he doesn't care because it makes it all the more fun. he will say he's surprised that you're using beomgyu, his own son, to get to him.

at first, he was getting annoyed with how you seemed to take a liking for his son which is why he wanted to rile you up by seeming extra interested in whatever your mom had to say. now, however, he knew he had a plan for that. you were not going to outsmart him, he wouldn't allow it and he would just have to put you in your place.

"excuse me but i need to use your restroom," soobin makes up a bullshit excuse to get to where you are. "oh of course!" your mom nods at him, instructing him towards the one upstairs. perfect.

"ill just finish up the dinner then!" your mother offers. "great that's enough time to put this slut in her place," he thinks. he smiles at your mom heading for upstairs.

"beomgyu you look like you just saw a ghost," you chuckle lightly, looking down at him. "y/n," he groans at the sight of only seeing you in your bra. he reaches up to grab your breasts, fondling them as delicately as possible. "you can be rough," you offer.

without even bothering to knock on the door, soobin opens it to see you both on the bed in a lewd position. you shirtless on top of beomgyu. he sucks his teeth when you both look back in alarm at the door being burst open. "y/n," he chuckles, almost sadistically.

you can already see the look in his eyes and suddenly you feel bad for not only yourself but beomgyu as well. you try to subtly grab your shirt again in shame but soobin's glare stops you. "what do you think you're doing little slut?" he folds his arms over his chest. not even caring that beomgyu is in the room, he walks over to you and grabs your hair causing you to yelp in surprise.

"s-sir.." soobin narrows his eyes at you then they flit over to beomgyu. "sit over there," he motions to the beanbag in the corner of the room. "i want you to learn something from this." without another word, beomgyu scrambles over to the seat, his heart beating in fear and excitement strangely.

you feel heat rising up your neck and to your cheeks as well as your dripping pussy. "don't be embarrassed, im sure this was your plan all along," soobin tsks, shoving your face down into the sheets. you breathe out when he rips the skirt and underwear from your body without a second thought. the racy thong that was supposed to be his surprise for father's day discarded in a second.

"soobin-" a smack to your ass. "that's not my name."

he doesn't even give you a chance to correct yourself, messing with your sticky juices before entering his cold fingers into your hole. you try to stifle your moan by burying your head further into the sheets.

"god you're so wet," soobin comments. he slowly moves his finger in and out for a while, practically torturing you with how meticulous and slow he's being. "please," you whine pathetically. "please what?" he slows his movements to stare at you with a raised eyebrow.

"please f-fuck me, please, i need your cock," you beg shamelessly. beomgyu breathes heavily, trying to forget about his growing boner but not being able to ignore it. he painfully wants to do something about it but he's not sure if he's allowed to touch himself.

he opts for subtly dragging his hand to his clothed crotch and palming himself through his pants, as uncomfortable as it is. in the meantime, soobin rids himself of his own pants, shaking his head.

he lightly smacks your throbbing pussy and you jolt. "do you seriously think you deserve it? fuck, look at you, can’t wait to be fucked like a bitch in heat~" you whine, wiggling your ass wordlessly in his face to hopefully get what you want.

soobin rubs your clit with narrowed eyes, making sure beomgyu is watching. he could care less that beomgyu is touching himself. he drags some of your cum from your hole to your clit and sighs. "alright then.."

he aligns himself with your hole and without another word slips his cock in with ease, completely bottoming out.

you want to scream at how big he is but you're only left with ragged pants as you know you're unable to make any loud noises. it seriously feels like you could be torn apart at any minute but you love the feeling of soobin’s cock filling you out.

"you're so tight seriously," soobin breathes. he can barely move at first. the way his dick fits inside of your pussy perfectly. he almost wants to comment about how you were practically made for him. he's sure if he flips you over right now, he would see the outline of his cock in your womb.

after waiting a bit for you to adjust to his length he finally starts moving. "shit-" he breathes. you have to grip the sheets to stop yourself from yelling. soobin's hands find their way to your waist and when you look to the side just for a split second you can see beomgyu fighting for his life to not moan out loud.

"look beomgyu-" soobin says in between jagged breaths. "if you wanna fuck around with his pathetic slut this is how you treat her." a moan gets caught in your throat when soobin pounds into you at once. "ah- i-" a part of you wants to apologize and is trying to but he won't give you a chance to speak.

"isn't that right my slutpuppy? did you have something to add?" at the sound of the nickname your walls tighten around him and he sends a harsh smack to your ass. "you're enjoying this aren't you?" he rolls his eyes and sighs heavily.

soobin thrusts start getting faster and faster, beomgyu watching with his mouth agape at his father kissing and sucking at your neck to muffle his own moans. beomgyu can only bite his lip and noises from his throat barely pass his lips as he reaches his high.

soobin growls at seeing your eyes focus on beomgyu so he starts slamming his cock into you at an animalistic pace and you think you might break.

beomgyu bucks into his hand as he cums from the sound and sight of skin slapping added with the tiny noises you'd make. not too long after you feel yourself shudder, unable to warn soobin that you had come you squeeze your eyes shut and let out a whine instead.

"fuck- ok baby," soobin understands as soon as your walls squeeze around him. he pants a couple a times and as soon as he reaches his high he pulls out, pumping his cock to let his cum shoot out on your ass.

"s-sir," you moan. "shhh it's ok." soobin sighs heavily, coming down from his own high to tend to your broken state. he looks over at beomgyu, who's head is lulled to the side as he gazes at your sweat and semen covered body.

soobin sucks his teeth deciding not to say anything to the boy and let him chill for a minute. he shrugs his pants back on and carries you in his arms to the nearest bathroom.

you cozy up to his warm embrace, letting out a sigh. "baby we need to clean you off.." you hear him whisper. you almost completely forget that there's a dinner that's supposed to be happening and you cant just go to sleep with soobin like you'd want.

a sudden coldness hits your body and you shiver. "ok," you agree. his cum is already starting to dry on you and you want nothing more than to be cleaned like he offers. you're not sure how you'll explain your change of clothes to your mom but you're sure you'll come up with something later.

no words need to be spoken after what happened and you're glad because you're not sure what to say. soobin doesn't seem keen on talking at the moment either, too focused on cleaning you off, so you decide to stay quiet.

it's silent in the bathroom until you both hear your mother all out. "dinner's ready!"

you chuckle, breaking the silence as soobin looks up at you with a questioning eyebrow. “happy father’s day.”

[blxetsi]

modern eren jaeger dating headcanons

lowercase intended !

college!eren jaeger x gn!reader

warnings: mentions of p*rnhub

- firstly, this man is CONVINCED it was love at first sight (he ALWAYS tells you this too)

- "babe when i met you i just KNEW you were gonna be mine" "no you didnt" "yes i did- hey dont stop holding me 😣"

- you guys met because you were tutoring him. (he was failing history 😔💔)

- after weeks of shy touches and shared giggles he FINALLY brought his grade up and didnt need you anymore

- that didnt mean he didnt want you tho ;)

- asked you out on a date (and by that i mean to a party smh 🙄)

- and the rest is history 😌✨

- hes the kind of guy that flirts with you even though youre together

- "so uh,, you come here often 😏"

- "eren youre in my apartment 😐"

- he tries to invite you everywhere that he goes with his friends

- like,,, EVERYWHERE

- jean and reiner wanna organize a boys night ? hes pulling out his phone getting ready to text you and saying "oh is it okay if y/n comes ? i didnt get to see them much this week i miss them 🥺" like mf this is for The Boyz 😡😤🥶🥵🔥‼️

- youre weirdly close with sasha, shes just really cool

- eren will call you at the most inconvenient times for the stupidest reasons

- one time he called you while you were doing an INTERVIEW for work and you wanna know what he called you for ? to tell you he bought a bunch of silly string to use on jean.

- bitch im trying to get PAID. rn . trying to make a LIVING. so i dont end up below the POVERTY LINE. tell me about ur silly string after i secure the bag 🙄‼️

- is very touchy. like very touchy.

- but also respects bounderies

- hes NEVER mad when you have something to say about him or your relationship together

- you dont feel comfortable with the pda ?? He Wont do it Again

- you think you two could work on communicating better with each other ?? hes already googling ways to do that

- he cares and cherishes you and the bond you two have created together, hes not gonna try and ruin that

- is a fucking lightweight. dont go with him to parties.

- but if you asked him to hold his drink he will NOT forget about it.

- a couple times he broke the plastic cup he was gripping it so hard 🤩

- is also the type of guy to just protect others ?? like for no reason

- he sees a guy trying to get close to a girl who had made it abundantly clear that she didnt want that ?? hes going over there and playing bf to protect that stranger

- he can thank first year drama class for his superb acting skills 😌✨

- will literally help anyone he sees in a bind

- also his brother is weirdly cool ??

- his parents live far away but his brother only lives like,, 40 minutes away from the university

- hes like an older brother to everyone 🤩

- if you like reading classic literature zeke is your guy to talk to. has so many ideas and opinions on those stories and stuff, and will NOT hesitate to lend you a book of his

- eren has led lights in his room. he ALWAYS has them on the colour red

- he doesnt understand why ppl think hes horny bc of the red lights ?? his eyes just adjust better to the red lights compared to the blue 😔

- he has stretch marks all over his body 🤩 like on his biceps, tummy, back, thighs, etc. etc. doesnt really think about them anymore but he used to be SO self conscious of them in highschool. he saw berty (bertholdt) with his shirt off once during his freshman year and saw how he had stretch marks too, and immediately thought they were cool

- he likes to play with your hair and scratch your scalp, but he likes it when you braid his hair because he thinks it makes him look pretty

- will get you weird things because they remind him of you

- one time he came to pick you up for your date and before you could even KISS HIM hes pushing you away and pulling out a tiny ceramic frog 😐

- "no you dont understand zeke took me to a thrift store today and i found this and it reminded me of you-" "i look like a frog to you ? is that what youre saying ?" "NO ! its just so cute, and youre so cute so i had to get it. do you like it 😊"

- doesnt like most meats, his only exceptions are chicken,

- thats it 😐

- you guys were having a picnic and you made sandwichs (with the sliced turkey meat) and he took one bite out of it, looked you in your face, and spit it back into the baggy without breaking eye contact

- likes just laying in bed with you. has a playlist of songs like arctic monkeys and shit like that, just sitting in the dark with a song on low volume, whispering whatever he wants into your ear is like,, the DEFINITION of love in his book

- also can and will recite lines from shakespeare plays to you ?? will be at the most randomest times. you could be sweeping and he'd just wrap his arms around you before whispering "two households, both alike in dignity. in fair verona where we lay our scene. from ancient grudge break to new mutiny, where civil blood makes civil hands unclean."

- okay mf this isnt english class 😐‼️ but thank you 😁👍

- will always try and do new tiktok trends and make funny videos so he can "blow up"

- he gets on average like 20 views 🤩

- he likes seeing you and his friends get along, it just makes him so happy that you love mikasa and armin just as much as he does, and hes so thankful that youre all friends

- likes to help you reach whatever you cant, and if youre taller (even by an inch) hes making you grab things for him

- he doesnt have a major yet, and he doesnt really know what he wants to do with his life, but being a hairstylist sounds cool

- whenever youre having a bad day mentally, he'll just give you your space unless you say otherwise

- he doesnt know if its the best idea, but he knows when he gets into a bad headspace he wants to be alone

- if you do say you want him with you, he'll lie right beside you in bed and spoon you, and if you want he'll put on the arctic monkeys playlist and whisper about the project he worked on for his business class

- he doesnt like sharing, BUT will steal your shit all the time 🙄

- "oh hey heres that thing i borrowed from you" "oh my fucking god eren i thought i lost that months ago"

- may not understand everything he learns in class, but he always tries bc this is his education !! his parents saved up a lot of money for him to be able to go to university !! hes gonna try his best to make the most of this

- i feel like he would play baseball at university. he asks that u wear his jersey to every game so "everyone knows that the most beautiful person attending this educational establishment is MINE" like,, k ill wear the jersey 🙄🤚

- has a list of the best websites to use to illegally stream movies, anime etc.

NSFW ! -------

- also hates pornhub. knows about all the controversies and shit about the website and doesnt use it. supports smaller porn companies that respect their workers 😁👍

- his parents love you. Im Serious

- carla asks about you all the time (hey mommy 😏) and his dad wonders about you too even though hes more lowkey about it

- always has to open the door for you or pull out your chair for you. no matter what setting youre in he Has to do it bc hes a gentleman

- bohemian rhapsody is his comfort film

- i think eren thinks that Youre the One for him, and this idea is solidified when you two graduate together 😍

- he takes you back to the library where he first met you, gives you a promise ring and just asks you to move in with him, hes not ready for an engagement and he knows you arent either, but he knows that youre it for him, and he just wants to be with you for as long as youll allow it

GAH this felt all over the place and very mediocre but i hope you enjoyed !!! remember asks are open so feel free to request something 🤩

[the-hate-keeps-me-warm]

More than a memory

Sorry if this is formatted really horriblly I finished this up on mobile I hope you like this there’s about 2 paragraphs I cut of ruby nerding out

Once they got to Vacuo oscar was sorta unofficially a huntsman now laws are a lot looser here so he’s been saving quite a bit of money from going on missions after team rwby and Jaune came back it was weird they were only gone a month but so much had changed the merge was almost finished he could feel it every day he felt less like himself he didn’t even object when Theodore called him oz anymore he and ruby weren’t as close anymore whatever happened wherever they were changed her he got bits and pieces from Jaune and yang but the others kept quiet he knew that he’d be gone soon so he wanted to leave something for her kinda like proof that they ever met in the first place so he was now standing in a vacuan market at 12 am alone with a lot of lien on him this was probably a bad idea but at one point he heard ruby ramble about this gun shop that they were the best at what they do so he called made an appointment it just so happens they prefer to see let’s just say unofficial clients at night he knocked at the door it read “bikal bullets” it opened and an old owl faunas man opens it his large yellow eyes are piercing “hello mister pine headmaster theodore told me to expect you” oscar rubs his hands together “yes mister bikal he said to come late” mr Bikal leads him inside on the walls hang dozens of expensive weapons “so mr pine what are you looking for” oscar took the blue prints out of his bag and set them down on the drawing table “um im looking for something custom built its for a friend” mr bikal takes the blue prints and examines them “these are pretty impressive mr pine did you draft these yourself theses yourself” oscar nods “mostly i had a little help with the math part of it but the mechanical stuff i did myself” mr bikal nods “something like this will cost a good amount even with the discount you get for being school staff” oscar nods “do you have an estimate on the price and how long it'll take to make” mr bikal snaps his teeth “around 12000 lien and 2 weeks” oscar nods he had 140000 saved up but he did want to buy some more things for the others “alright i can uh i can afford that” mr bikal goes over to what looks like a drawing table and pins them up “i will start work immediately mr pine you make your payment on completion if you desire the school has credit with me the price includes 3 magazines and a case so that will also be custom made shall you pick it up or would you prefer its delivered” oscar stands uncomfortably as mr bikal starts measuring out pieces of fine metal “ill pick it up dont worry” mr bikal nods and says “alright mister pine your can go now its not a good look for a young man to be out so late especially so close to the red light district” oscars face gets red “yes of course” oscar leaves and walks back to the academy sneaking back into his dorm room was easy tho nora did pester him about where hed been he had left a note saying when he would be back for the next 2 weeks he kept a poker face nora helped him set up his bank account so the sudden spending of 12000 lien did give her pause so she decided to ask him about it

He was sitting on his bed reading some Treatise about some long-forgotten subject she knocked on the bedpost and he looks up “hey Nora did you need something” she sat at the end of his bed “hey what did you spend 12 thousand lien on” he hides his face “please don’t tell anyone it was on something for ruby” she smiles “ah young love I was worried that you wouldn’t make your move so what kind of thing sets you back 12 thousand it’s something big right” he nods his head “its a gun i-i had it commissioned for and it’s not really cause I’m trying to make a move or anything it’s more like a going away gift” Nora frowns and shakes his leg “where you going taking a vacation or something” he feels tears bite the edge of his eyes “Nora the merge it’s soon I know it won’t be long until I’m gone and I want you all to remember me but her especially I don’t want to be just a memory” he struggles to keep the tears at bay but nora pulls him into a hug tighter but somehow softer than her usual ones “hey you will never ever be just a memory you will always be you and even if your not you'll always be one of us we all love you so much” and then the damn breaks and he sobs into her shoulder “i don't wanna go away nora i want to live i wanna go to school see my aunt again” she rubs his back and says “i know sweetie you'll get to do all that ok i promise” he sniffles “nora i need you to do something for me if i do disappear ok i need you to go back to my aunt and tell her everything ok it can't be oz ok don't tell her how to find him it won't make sense i'll just hurt worse i dont want that for her” she nods “i won't ever have to do that ok but i promise” she holds him until he stops crying and they take a a a nap they always helped him calm down

Finally, after a long 2 weeks, he goes to pick it up when he goes inside Mr. Baikal shows him the box it’s a beautiful dark red mahogany wood he opens the case and looks at the pistol inside its silvered handle and barrel were beautiful he’s almost afraid to touch it the engravings were perfect exactly as he had drawn them if not better the moon and rose he had designed look perfect he takes it gently in his hands he looks down the sights the night sights glow a brilliant carmine red he looks at the magazine even it was of an amazing quality everything down to the smallest detail was exactly as he pictured it he sets it back into the case “thank you, mister, Bikal it's absolutely perfect” Mr. Bikal smiles and nods “I’m glad everything is to your satisfaction Mr pine if you find there is anything wrong with it or you want something changed everything I make comes with a lifetime warranty the paperwork is in the case as well as a certificate stating that I am in fact its builder” they shake hands and oscar takes it home in his bag he excitedly gets back to his dorm he sets it down still in his bag on his bed now all he have to do is give it to her

He sits on it for a few days but finally decides to just give it to her oz has his reservations about this but decided that oscar deserves this to maybe say goodbye in his own way

Ruby was going on walks around shade it’s something he noticed so he waited for her to go on one of those walks it was cool in vacuo at night the air was nice compared to the oppressive heat of the day she was meandering along the walkways he followed behind her a bit the case hung heavy in his bag even tho it wasn’t heavy at all after a while she sits at an old wooden bench overlooking the gardens he approaches and she perks up “oh hey oscar are you going somewhere” she says pointing to his bag he shakes his head “do you mind if I sit” she shakes her head “no go-ahead did you need to talk, something about Theodore?” he sits down on the other side of the bench gently setting his bag between them “no uh no I just uh I wanted to give you something” he opens his bag and takes the case out holding it out to her she takes it “it’s not my birthday is it this looks really nice you didn't have to do this” ruby says smiling “well i've been wanting to do something nice for you” oscar says rubbing the back of his neck she lifts the top and gasp gently lifting it from its case “oscar this is this is amazing” she drops the magazine and pulls the slide back making sure its clear and runs her hand along the engraving her symbol etched into the left side of the grip “oh thanks i uh actually designed it myself oz helped me with the math” she looks at him her eyes wide “oscar it took me 8 attempts to successfully design a functioning crescent rose gun design is really hard how long did you spend on this” oscar blushes “the idea kinda started in atlas i was gonna ask you to help me make one so i wouldn't have to rely on my cane but everything happen and when you were gone i kept messing with the idea and i kept thinking about you so i kinda ended up designing it for you more than me eventually do you like it” ruby scoffs “oscar do i like it i love it its probably the single greatest gift anyones ever given me” he smiles wide “really that makes me really happy I was worried you wouldn’t like it” she sets it back gently into its case “really Oscar it’s amazing you have a knack for design your gonna have to show me the draft notes and everything cause this is this is amazing I can’t wait to shoot it this is wow” she chokes up and he leans down “ruby are you ok” she nods wiping her face of nonexistent tears “no worries this is just really cool and sweet and god your so amazing” he felt his heart flutter and his cheeks heat up “the guy who built it that bikal guy you talked about was just as great as you always said” she puts a hand on his shoulder “are you telling me Hephaestus bikal made this Oscar” she says seriously “uh yeah why is that bad” she kisses his cheek and squeals “oh my god your amazing this is now even better god I could die happy wait his rates are insane how did you afford this” still recoiling from the kiss he bites his lip “uh huntsmen work” she narrows her eyes “how much did this cost Oscar it had to be expensive” he shakes his head “not telling it’s a gift you don’t need to worry about it just enjoy it” she punches his arm “I will but I am going to repay you for this somehow ok” “you already did” he says quietly he says rubbing the back of his neck “ruby I don’t really know how long I have left and I would like to spend at least some of it with you I understand if you don’t I know it might make it harder when I’m gone bu-whoa” he’s pulled into a hug she pulls his head into her shoulder and holds him tight “I wanna spend more time with you too but you will always be Oscar ok oz is oz you are you” he sighs and smiles “see what I mean by paying me back”

[letthefrogsbe]

remember when I was gonna write that parkner fic?

cool so I've decided I'm gonna, but because I cannot write for SHIT and I hate my writing every time I see it, ill just share my outline of what I have so far. its not coherent. sorry. 

Section one: aunt may dies. It’ll be like “it's been 3 months. 3 months since May was shot. 2 months and 3 weeks since she died.”

Something like that idc. Basically this section will base around peter living tony, because he’s not doing well, and he is only 17- which is not actually old enough to be on your own after something like this. Setting is established, with cameos from dr strange (who tony is dating and lives with (yeah bite me, this is my fanfiction i can make it what i want.) it will be made obvious that this takes place after endgame, which also means that tony is Not going to die. I’m not that mean lmao. The avengers are like largely together, there was not as much death in this as there was in endgame. Whatever. Everyone is very nice to peter because they know that for him its either this or him becoming a ward of the state so like.

Section two: harley gets kicked out. His mom finds out that he’s gay (from gossip sources idk) and kicks harley out. Im not going to write them having a big fight like in the moment, but harley will recount what happened somewhat to tony in this section, and then more to peter later in the story. Gay ppl trauma dump, we know this. Okay anywaysss so harley calls tony literally sobbing and like freezing fucking cold. IM SORRY IM BEING SO MEAN TO THEM I PROMISE THEY'LL GET A HAPPY ENDING. Okay. harley explains how his mom kicked him out. Tony asks why, harley says something like “she didn’t agree with my lifestyle choices” like bitterly. Tony is a good person in this (i know, im really taking some character liberties) and he’s in the mood for collecting strays apparently, so he has happy send over the quinjet. He can’t make it himself bc hes in fucking japan or something for the next few weeks,, but. Yeah! Tony also calls peter, who is presumably in bed and feeling depressed. “Hey pete. How ya feeling? Any better?’ ‘Not really, tony. Sorry.’ ‘you don’t have to be sorry-’ ‘damn tony you sound like my therapist.’ “sorry pete, but i do have something to tell you- you know harley?’ ‘only from what you’ve told me about him, but yea. He was the tennessee garage kid, right?’ ‘i mean. Yes. so- he’s gonna come stay with me for a while too- it might not be permanent but it will probably be a bit. He’s about your age, and he just has no where to go (just like u). He’s not going to stay in your room or anything, but with bruce and thor here, he will be in your apartment area.’ ‘okay tony.. Will i have to talk to him a bunch?’ ‘not if you don’t want to- i already warned him about you, so it should be okay. I wouldn’t worry so much pete- you guys are so similar in a lot of ways that i wanted to introduce you two long before he called me.’ ‘okay tony, i trust you. Thank you again for letting me stay with you :)’ (yeah that kind of got away from me)

Section 3: build up. this is a shorter section. Harley and peter are gonna meet in section 4. This section is harley’s jet ride (with an intuitive happy) and harley’s nerves about how he really isn’t worth this (i mean hes pretty intimidated tony sent a private jet just for him) and happy like reassures him. Hes still insecure though. Peter is also nervous bc what if harley doesn’t like him? What if he doesn’t like harley?? Tony did say they would get along, but peter hasn’t really been himself recently, so who knows? Yeah lots of that. I do want to emphasize though- peter is not completely unhealthily coping. Like he has a therapist and he has been reaching out to ned and mj, but its still an open wound for him. Obviously. He still has a sense of humor though, but its to cover these deep insecurities. Like the first month or so that he was with tony, he was reallllyyyy trying to not get close to him bc he sort of thinks he kills everyone around him. Like logically he knows this isn’t true, but he does really think the that non superheroes that he surrounds himself with are very at risk if they know about his spider-man-ness. The only people who know now are ned and mj (may knew too).

Section 4: the meeting of harley and peter. Keep in mind peter has been living in this apartment/area of stark tower for about 3 months now. He actually moved in while may was in the hospital because he couldn’t stand to be alone in the apartment when he knew why may wasn’t there. And um. Yeah. so peter is like comfortable in this space, basically. Also- the reason theyre in the same apartment is because stark tower was not really created with the idea of housing broken orphans in mind, so it only has a certain amount of residential space. Thor and bruce are currently staying there together (although no one really knows if theyre together, or if theyre just best bros who went through some extreme trauma together and are now inseparable. Hmmm wonder if thats gonna come up later) and theyre using one apartment, and happy lives there with his own apartment, and tony and stephen are currently sharing the penthouse, even though thats not public knowledge. Really only the people close to tony know that he’s dating stephen. So. this leaves just the one other 2 bedroom apartment for peter and harley. It has one bathroom, and the bedrooms are connected by a door but theyre pretty big so like. Theres a kitchen, a living room with a fancy ass tv, and a really pretty view (with a balcony bc <333). May died in march, peter got leave from the school in april, and it is now the middle of june btw. Tony is now peter’s official guardian (he was before may died anyways) and now has sole guardianship over him which he has fully accepted, even though peter and him both know that there are going to be times where he has to go out of town bc he does own a company after all. Times like right now. Harley is pretty nervous that tony isn’t going to be there to greet him and that he is going to have to like introduce himself to peter and everything. Cmon, theres no reason to feel like that, he’s the one intruding after all, he should at least be able to handle himself. (<--- harley’s thoughts). Yeah so theyre insecure super cool. A n y w a y s so peter was stressing about harley as he arrived, and so when harley walked in they were both complete bundles of nerves. Harley walks up but knocks. Peter actually jumps (bc spidey sense okay whatever) and goes to get the door. Oh my god these awkward teenagers i hate them so much (i love them). Peter kinda looks like shit, sorry king. He was a little bit crying earlier, then tony called and he switched into stressed out ball-of-anxiety mode. Distractions are good, its okay. Peter opens the door for harley and they like introduce each other all awkward (again sorry) and peter shows harley where he is staying. Harley doesnt really have muchhhh bc he was kicked out and all. He just has a suitcase full of clothes, his favorite blanket, his favorite stuffed animal (yeah whatever bc ofc he does) and his phone/charger. He sets all his stuff down at once. He thanks peter for letting him stay in his apartment and also said sorry. First thing peter noticed was harley’s accent. Stfu. peter asks why harley’s here- ok. Harleys had a long ass day. Too fucking long. He- he breaks down. He tells peter a lot. About how his mom found out that he was gay, and how she told him never to come back. Yikes. Anyways, this is establishing the beginning of their relationship as friends. Peter is there for him even though he doesn’t know him at all. Peter sees some of himself in harley in this moment, even though he’s not talking about himself yet. Eventually harley does ask about peter, and they really just get to know each other really quick. They have these deep scarring individual traumas, and neither has nearly recovered, but they find comfort in just knowing that theyre not alone in their suffering. At least for now. At least in this moment.

Section 5: the next day. Peter and harley spent that whole night talking about what they were going through. Peter said good night at around 5 am (there were no adults around they can do what they want to) and they both got good sleeps. In peter’s case, one of the first solid nights he’s had in a while. Harley was kept up a little longer after peter left, however, because he just couldn’t shut off his mind. It was really cathartic for him to just lay everything out there and for someone to just accept him. Peter told him he was bi, but he was.. Lucky. He had accepting people in his life. May was accepting. God, harley couldn’t fathom having lost everyone in his life, everyone he ever cared about, and still having the heart to sit and talk with the dumbass anxious gay kid who can’t go home anymore. His problems felt so small compared to peter’s, and all he could do was admire peter’s resilience and how he was seemingly able to bounce back from anything. God, peter was something. He couldn’t wait to get to know him more. With that thought circling in his head, he finally went to sleep at oh shit 6:30 am. Peter woke up around 1. Harley at 2. When harley woke up, peter was watching tv and eating cereal on the couch and he just sat down next to him. No words, just sleepy children being sleepy. They stayed like this for like an hour when someone knocked on their door. Enter stephen strange!!!!!!!!!!! Get excited people. Hes just coming in to check on them bc tony told him to, and he didn’t get the chance last night bc he was _busy_. K so now he’s here and hes awkward and he just wants to make sure these boys r okay bc theyve both been through too much recently, and it would be just the cherry on top if they didn’t get along. Him and harley had never actually met before so he like introduced himself and all that. Offered like if they needed anything he was there, and its only gonna be a few days until tony gets back (did i say a week earlier? Im retconning that bc i cannot find it in my writing so it is now retconned). Peter and harley just have to sort of explain to dr strange that theyre getting along gREAT and there is no need for concern….. And peter was even thinking about showing harley around the city a bit that night (something he had not yet told harley, but wanted to make it seem like he was doing well and not acting too depressed in front of Dr. Strange) so dr strange is like yeah !!!!!! do that, that sounds super fun petey !!!!!! and so now they have evening plans

ok ps I wrote this like 2 weeks ago and completely forgot I posted something on Tumblr about this fic idea, and so this is literally just how I talk to myself. was not gonna ever post this but then I decided to because I'm bored. there are more sections but I'm not gonna post them rn because this post is really fucking long already!!!!

[thiswasinevitableid]

7. Leshen Indruck your choice of rating!

Here you go! I went with SFW

It’s old wisdom that humans fear that which they do not understand. 

Indrid really hoped he would never learn the truth of that wisdom the hard way, but here he is. One misplaced attempt at aiding someone using his foresight and he’s been caught, blindfolded, and dumped in the middle of the vast Monongahela Forest. 

He just wanted to help. 

His foresight renders him less fearful than he’d otherwise be; he’ll be able to see threats coming and locate the resources he needs. If he takes his time, he might be able to use his visions to locate the nearest (friendly) village. And, like anyone who grew up near the woods, he knows how to hunt, fish, and forage. For someone who’s been left to die, he’s rather confident. 

Still, it sting a little.

After a few moments of rightfully-earned self-pity, he buttons up his coat and starts the slow, halting journey towards safety. 

Two days later, he’s pushing his way through branches and miserably pointing out to himself again and again that a town where everyone grew up with basic forest survival skills would exile one of their own somewhere that required high-level survival skills. 

The topography and scenery is so disorienting that he may have better luck if he covered his eyes, spun around ten times, and chose his path from there. It’s a dense landscape of deep greens and browns with splashes of bright color that he’d no doubt enjoy were he not constantly snagging on branches or catching his toes on roots. 

Worse, he’s had no luck catching food, and cannot for the life of him locate water. The fact it rained last night is the only reason he’s not dangerously dehydrated.

A sharp, high chirp draws his eye to the foot of a tree. Flapping sparsely feathered wings, a baby bird hops through the mud, her nest visible but unreachable. A meager meal, but a meal nonetheless. 

Indrid scoops her into his palms, clambers into the lowest crook of the tree, and sets her back among her siblings. 

His stomach chastises him the rest of the day, though the rest of his body rejoices when he finds a hollow in the base of a tree large enough for him to shelter within. From within the trunk, he spies vine sprawling across the ground, berries glinting in the light rain. Deep purple, meaning they’re Brambleberries. 

The handful he shoves into his mouth brings tears to his eyes, even though they’re not the ripest. How else do you explain the bitterness chasing the sweetness down his throat. 

Wait. Brambleberries don’t go purple until mid-summer. This is early spring. Which means those were-

“Chokeberries.” He curses himself, darting outside the tree once more, finger down his throat until his meal comes back up. Maybe he was fast enough.

His throat tightens in a prelude to closing. Sinking to his knees, gasping for air, he swears the ground vibrates with heavy steps. His eyes flutter close as he falls forward. As darkness slips over his eyes, he thinks it’s taking him a long time to hit the ground. 

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

Bitter metal on his tongue. 

“Nnnnf” Eyes still shut, he pushes at whatever is holding the spoon and it’s vile contents in his mouth. 

“None of that. You’re gonna need two more doses of this before that Chokeberry is outta your system, and they were hard enough to get into you when you were passed out. Swallow.”

He swallows.

A large hand pats his head, “There we go. I know, shit’s gross, but if you were fool enough to eat those berries, might stun some sense into you.”

Indrid sits up, rubbing his eyes, “I was delirious with hunger, forgive me for not remembering the exact seasons of fruits. Did you heal me only to insult me or-” his visions flicker back full force, revealing his host before he opens his eyes. He scrambles back, but instead of a wall or an edge he just finds a vast expanse of bed. 

Watching him with an amused set to his lips is a man three heads taller and much bulkier than Indrid, dark hair streaked with grey-green moss, eyes the dark green of pine needles, and nails like treebark. He crosses arms tattooed with green, gold, and bronze swirls, waiting for Indrid to collect himself. 

“A Leshen.”

“Yep.”

“Are...are you going to eat me?”

“What? No, I’m not gonna fuckin eat you. I don’t know which of my kind chowed down on humans but if I ever find out I’m gonna give ‘im a piece of my mind. Ain’t great to have people thinkin I’m a man-eater when the worst I done is throw a tree at someone.”

“That is still very alarming.”

The Leshen shrugs “I’m a forest guardian; I’m gonna guard.”

Indrid studies him, wary, drawing the covers up his chest without noticing. 

“Look” the Leshen sighs, “I ain’t tryin to scare you. Hell, made myself the smallest I can so I could be all comfortin. Noticed you in the woods earlier today and kept an eye on you, since humans-”

“Don’t often come here, yes, I am aware. I was extremely, forcibly exiled into your part of the woods.”

Green eyes blink, “Huh. Well, point is it didn’t seem right to leave you there to die, so I brought you here. Chokeberry is real easy to undo, assumin you got the right herbs.” 

“Thank you.” He doesn’t know what else to say. His foresight tells him the Leshens promise of no harm is true, but there are so many timelines for what he could say and how his host could respond that he freezes. 

“You’re welcome. You got a name?”

“Indrid.”

“You oughta rest up more, Indrid. I’ll be back with the next dose in a bit.” His host steps out to the hall.

“Wait, do I, ah, get to know your name?”

“Duck.”

He snickers, replies to the raised eyebrow with, “Apologies, I expected something tree-related.”

Duck smiles, “It’s a nickname.”

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

“What’s your plan?” Duck asks from across the breakfast table. The morning found Indrid well enough to walk and to eat without feeling ill, so he’s been perching awkwardly on a chair that’s too big for him as the Leshen makes plates of toast and eggs that don't come from any bird Indrid is familiar with. 

“I, ah, I don’t really have one other than ‘avoid going home’.”

“You were just gonna wander around until you found a village? I hate to tell you this, but there ain’t one for at least fifty miles, and I’m guessin that’s the one you came from. They must’ve used and enter to navigate here, because this part of the woods is hostile to travel by design.”

“Yours?” Indrid sips his tea, face to hide his distaste for its bitterness. 

“Yep.” Duck slides a jar over to him, it’s copper lid revealing sugar cubes within, “Don’t much feel like runnin into humans every damn day, and it means that even as y’all sprawl out more and more, there are parts of this wood that stay wild.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but it does little to improve my situation. Unless…” he bites his lip. 

“Unless?”

“Unless I could stay here. I’m not bad company, and I have some skills which could-”

“No” Duck shakes his head, “savin you is one thing, takin you on as a roommate is all whole other kettle of fish.”

“Ah. Right. Of course.” He sips his tea, reflection crestfallen. Maybe he’ll just finish this and then go back to sleep. 

Duck sighs, expression one of someone who already regrets the offer he’s about to make, “You can stay here for a month. After that, I’ll get you as close to a safe village as I can, and you’re on your own. Deal?”

Indrid grins, appetite returning in full, “Deal.”

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

Duck has a good guess as to what’s making all the scratching and clanging in his kitchen, but it’s still a surprise to see Indrid moving from counters to chairs doubling as stools to tend a pot that he can barely peer into.

The human’s gotten nimble over the last week and a half, thanks to his routine attempts to help Duck around the house. Everything is scaled to Duck’s smallest possible form, but that still leaves Indrid at a disadvantage. 

He’d be more inclined to help him if it wasn’t so obvious that his help is a ploy to convince Duck to let him stay. Look, he feels bad for the guy, but humans don’t have a great track record with his kind and he generally likes his peace and quiet out in the woods. He also notices that, left to his own devices, Indrid is messy. The area around the couch he uses as a bed is strewn drawings and unfolded clothes that Duck conjured up. Which means this is about Ducks favor, not a commitment to household cleanliness. 

That’s not to say having Indrid around has been unpleasant; the human is good company but also understands Ducks' need for space. He’s odd, and even though the foresight was the given reason, Duck suspects his fellow villagers would have found reason to exile him regardless. Indrid even said that living with Duck was the happiest he’d felt in some time. That wasn’t a ploy; Indrid is prone to saying unnerving statements without registering them. Thorns pricked Duck’s heart when he heard it and, that night, when Indrid fell asleep on the bed during their conversation about deer, he didn’t move him. Just brushed the white hair from his eyes and laid down a respectful distance away. 

“Oh! We’re in the timeline when you’re early.” Indrid waves distractedly as he wrestles open a jar, “I checked on you during the day through my visions and it looked as though you got drenched, so I thought something warm was in order.”

He’s smiling, and Duck’s gaze lingers long enough to see there’s no trickery in it. Yeah, being a forest spirit means storms are refreshing more than freezing, but the one today was so relentless he felt like it was eroding him away. 

“Thanks, Indrid. I’ll join you in a sec.”

The next morning, before he leaves he forms some nearby stumps into a proper step-stool, and transmogrifies the minerals of the earth into a solid set of human sized pots and pans. 

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

“I know you’re there, Duck. I may not have eyes in the trees, but I do have visions that tell me when someone is dithering about coming to speak with me.” Indrid smiles, checking the fishing pole he’s dug into the shore. He feels rather than hears Duck approach; in spite of his size, the Leshen moves through the woods more softly than a butterfly. 

“Guess those visions do make you harder to spy on than the average human.”

“A not at all creepy statement.” Indrid teases, then tips over when Duck playfully shoves him. 

“Shit, sorry.”

“It’s alright” he brushes off his arm, “the sand is nice and warm.” He picks up his sketchbook (stray pieces of paper sewn together) and pens (Duck turned flowers, fruit, leaves, and wood into them until Indrid had every color) and continues drawing. Half the reason he likes fishing is that he can draw futures (and for his own pleasure) while he does it. The other half is that he doesn’t want Duck to view him as a parasite in his home. Yes, for the first week, he did everything he could to demonstrate that he would make an excellent addition to the house made of twisting trunks and mossy floors. 

Now, though, he just wants to enjoy his time with Duck, even if that means not tidying constantly or cooking every meal. He hopes Duck enjoys it too, regardless of whether he lets Indrid stay. The Leshen is lonely, even if it only comes through on those days when his voice is like the wind through a weather-beaten log. Indrid wishes he knew how to assuage it, but a month is not long enough to learn such things. 

He’s slept in Duck’s bed these last three nights. It’s not purposeful, Duck is just so interesting to talk with and Indrid will lose sight of the time, will slump sideways and mumble that he ought to turn in, and then wake up in the early hours atop his host. It didn’t occur to him until this morning that Duck does that to keep Indrid from being uncomfortably squashed by his larger bedmate. And that Duck chooses to do that rather than carry Indrid to his own bed. 

“Hey, uh, ‘Drid?” Duck’s voice brings him back to the riverside, “would you, uh, wanna come with me on my rounds sometimes? Might be some nice things to draw, and that foresight of yours could be real helpful with some of the stuff I need to keep an eye on.”

His host looks nervous until Indrid nods, “I would be honored.”

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

Never has the folding of clothes made him so miserable. Yet still he tucks the garments into the large-but-manageable rucksack Duck gave him, placing his sketchpad safely between the layers of fabric.

“Weather oughta be good tomorrow.” His visions show Duck behind him, rubbing the back of his neck. He’s going to miss that voice, the way leaves rustle underneath the drawl. 

“That’s good.” He pulls the ties on his rucksack, sets at the end of the couch but doesn’t turn around. 

“I’d, uh, say you’re welcome to visit but, uh, well, you know how fuckin hard this place is to find.”

“Mmmm.” Indrid wants him to go, wants him to be brusque or happy, not awkwardly fond in a way that gives false hope of shared affection. 

“‘Drid there’s, there’s somethin I wanna, that is I’m thinkin...aw, fuck it.”

Indrid yelps as arms nearly as big around as he is scoop him up. Duck’s lifted him to examine flowers or see over trees, but the hugging is new. 

“Duck?” Carefully, he drapes his arms over his shoulders.

“Don’t go.”

“I don’t want to.” Duck always smells faintly of pine needles and green wood, and Indrid buries his face in his neck, inhaling in hopes of remembering it forever. 

“Then stay. I changed my mind, ‘Drid, life is so much better with you around.” 

“Okay” Indrid can’t get his voice above a whisper; this wasn’t in the timelines, which means Duck changed his mind at the literal last moment. 

“Really? You wanna stay?” Duck shifts him back, Indrid functionally sitting on his forearm with his legs half wrapped around his chest. 

The seer summons his courage, finds it lacking, and so closes his eyes before going in for a kiss. His lips find Duck’s cheek until a firm hand cups the back of his head, guiding their mouths together. At this size, their mouths are compatible even as Indrid remains pleasantly dwarfed. Duck breaks the kiss first but Indrid, hell-bent on making up for lost time, continues kissing his face until they’re both laughing.

Duck kisses his forehead, “I’m gonna take that as a yes.” 

[classywastelnd]

11/5/21

 tonight , i am sitting alone , my damp back again metal chair pretending to do work . looking pensive I'm sure. wearing all black , with neon accessories [ do shoes count as accessories ?

 all i know is im feeling good , im feeling on top of my game . But the game as hands . Im feeling like I'm winning this battle but the war wages on . the world is changing all around us , all around me … and  i heard a few months ago that the relationship between wild birds [ i think it was crows who live in wooded forests] and wolves. The stories goes -  ravens would fly over ehad and tell the wolves where their mutual food sources are  , and the wolves would follow the sounds of the ravens and  after the wolves where done biting the meat off the preys bones , the ravens would swoop in and pick at the remains. Can you fucking believe that shit ???? Also in the same vein ,i  saw this crazy picture of a monkey paddling on a boat . the story behind this apparently aquaphobic monkey ( now that i think of it , arent all monkeys aquaphobic ? ive never seen a primate swim ,.... not even in tarzan ) . The caption of the picture explained that the primate learned how to paddle  and essential leanred to use boat as a new way of transportation because  he wathed humans do it . Thats fucking whild !!! The cycle of evolution is upon us !

i wonder how much of a crazy scientist i sound like . someone put me in a white lab coat , smear it with some nondescript fluid for realness points and snap thick opqae plastic goggles on me . 

because thats not even the craziest idea this post is going to mention. 

 Im looking for local community labs to learn more about the benefits of cultivating proteins from yeast .... i also want to take up baking bread ; for which i will have to find a store that sells yeast .

 The first thing sound daunting but with a work ethic and an insermountable eergy i have stores inside me... im sure i can do it when i Lock in .,.. The second thing, the baking bread thing , my mother says that yeast is cheap and store ofte sell it although ive never seen in on store shelves, i’ll take her word. ooh what a novel idea for me ,i hate to admit . But yeah moving on , im looking for yeast and im gld that its cheap and i glad that its winter , beacuse i can already image me sucessfully pulling out a deep, dark , genuine and undeniably brown colored crust . Giving my bread baby [ that nickname doesnt sit right with me , ill find anothername for my bread babies / i’ve already given then an endearing name beacuse im vagule aware that it takes a long time for bread to bake ... like hours or sometimes days idk ] . I lost my train of thought trying to lookg cool typing stuff . imagine of i were sure typing nothing and was reading nightwin comics that whole time ?? HA 

speaking of nightwing , tiktok totally just outed him as a the man who cheated on starfire . Fuck , way to riun a fantasy . What haooened to him being wholesome and shit dammit , not even fictional men can be faithful. 

whatever , this gym is about to close . 

So , as for my close ; i;ve developed a mild taste for yeast , a distaste for Dick Grayson , i go to the gym now , and  people should be speaking more about modern evolution/animal social studies.

[divinityoswin]

for the caged bird sings of freedom

➳ this work is a multichapter fic

summary: Dragons were the ones who ruled the heavens, who soared above all. It was unbecoming of one to desire to live down on earth.// Sabo knows nothing of his past. Im knows, though. Im always knows best. 

In which Im finds themselves in need of an heir, and the newest slave at Mariejois seems to be the perfect candidate.

characters: Sabo

words: 2221

content warning: angst, slavery, abuse.

»»————-　♔　————-««

A free bird leaps on the back of the wind  

It’s strange, he thinks, that there was an entire world out there to explore, yet the town seems insistent on caging its residents in.  

He can see it - the bars that lock them in houses, the corsets holding the women in place and the stiff suits that restrain the men from running out and living .  Their very hearts are locked and sealed away, to the point that they would turn their noses up at the screams of those begging for mercy.  Its a cage of their own creation, and he wants no part of it.

Why did he want no part of it?

He couldn’t move, he couldn’t speak.  All he could do was lay down and stare at the wooden ceiling, counting the planks as his body swayed gently back and forth.  A bandage is wrapped around one of his eyes, as well as most of his body - and something is strapping him down to a bed.  The last thing he remembers is an awful sensation encapsulating the left side of his body, and then nothing.  But that’s not the problem here.  It also happens to be the only thing he remembers.

Oh, he remembers feelings , information - he knows he detests nobles, and he knows that there are four seas - five, including the Grand Line.  But he doesn’t remember himself.  No name comes to the tip of his tongue, and any attempt to look back into his past is only met with an orange glow within his mind.  Fire, he presumes, which would explain the numb feeling in his body.

The boy would cry, if it did not hurt to do so.  Instead of weeping, he wonders.  Wonders of where he is, of what would happen to him.  He would welcome death, if a voice in the back of his mind did not scream at him for thinking so.

“You gave everyone a nasty shock out there.”

The voice is serene, and it sends shivers down his spine.  He cannot move his head, so it’s up to the stranger to come into his own view.  Just out of the corner of his eye, he spots a flash of orange - not the warm kind, like the fire that once engulfed him, but a harsh, sharp kind.  One that clashes with the black the stranger is wearing.

It’s a woman, he thinks to himself.  Danger.  Danger.

Get out.

“It is thanks to the kindness and generosity of our Saint that you were rescued,” she continues.  It’s almost as if she’s preaching, and he wishes desperately he could escape.  The last thing he wants is a lesson . “Tell me, do you know why you are here?”

He cannot move, nor open his mouth, so he merely stares at her general direction and waits.  Minutes pass by, and he can feel her gaze boring into the side of his skull, until finally she steps forward and comes into his field of vision.

She has a sharp nose, sharp eyes, sharp lips, sharp cheekbones - everything about her is sharp .  As if she were made of razor blades.  Yet freckles litter on her sun-kissed skin, and her curly bright orange hair is braided in a way that reminds him of a flower he had seen but could not remember, and she smiles with a grin that looks like honey.  None of this does anything to appease him, however, and he finds himself locked in a staring match with her.  It’s only when she sighs and looks away that he breaks eye contact.  The ceiling is much more interesting, anyway.

“As I suspected.  Your head trauma renders you unable to move or speak.”

A quill scratching on paper.  She’s writing something down.

“I suppose it would be useless to ask for your name,” she says.  She tuts, as if it’s somehow his fault that he’s incapable of moving. “Mine is Doctor Hymn.  A pleasure to meet you.”

Unfortunately, it isn’t much of a pleasure for him.  In fact, it’s rather unnerving, and a bit stressful.

“I will be your Doctor for this trip.  You should consider yourself lucky you survived the accident.”  He feels her hand - warm yet not in a comforting way - rest upon his forehead.  He winces. “I will begin to ask you some yes or no questions.  You will respond with blinking.  One long blink means yes, two means no.  Understand?”

He’s not exactly sure he’s in the right mindset to be answering questions.  After all, he’s still delirious from whatever ordeal he had been through, and everything happening now is driving him into a state of panic.  But Doctor Hymn’s grip on his forehead tightens, and he finds himself shutting his eyes before opening them again.

“Good, good.  Now. . .”

The floorboard creaks as her hand is removed from his forehead.  She’s stepping away, scribbling something more down, and humming to herself.

“Were you planning on assassinating our Saint?”

He blinks twice.  She’s talking absolute nonsense to him.  Even if he couldn’t remember a thing about his past, he got the sense he wasn’t the kind of person to kill others.

“Are you currently dissatisfied with the World Government and its system of governance?”

What a strange question, especially to one such as himself - a child.  He blinks twice, because he feels blinking once would be a mistake.  But in his heart, he feels something stir within him, and it takes him a moment to realise he’s lying to her.  

Why was he lying?

“That’s wonderful to hear.  Now, are you a strong young man?”

He can’t move a muscle, so he instead rolls his eyes and gazes at her general direction and waits.

“Not when you’re injured, of course,” Doctor Hymn clarifies.

He blinks once.  At least, he assumes so.

“Very well.”  She sets aside her notepad and quill, and takes a seat next to him. “You’ve passed the test.”

What test , he wants to ask, but of course nothing escapes his lips.  Doctor Hymn seems to understand his confusion, though, and continues.

“Discard your name.  It doesn’t exist anymore.”

A sentiment that would work if he could just remember his name.

“From now on, you will be called 0731.”

0731 shivers.

                                                    * * *

It takes 0731 only a day to understand the meaning behind her words, and to know exactly where he is.  Well, not exactly - but he senses something is important about where he is, and that it doesn’t bode well for him.  As far as he knows, he’s on a ship, he’s in some sort of medical area, and there are some very, very important passengers on board.

Doctor Hymn, the only person he has been allowed to see so far, refers to these passengers as ‘Saints’, speaking with such reverence as if they were holy creatures.  0731 can only assume that they’re either actual Gods, or they were simply nobles who had become so twisted in their self-worth and ego that they thought themselves to be so.

Something tells him it’s the latter.

Whatever the case may be, he isn’t allowed to see them.  Not yet, anyway.  Doctor Hymn tells him he’s too sickly to see anyone but her, and he knows for a fact it’s true.  Just the mere act of breathing, of his chest moving slowly up and down in ragged gasps, is painful.  Moving his body around - now that is physically impossible.

As for his company, she’s not bad company, but something about her sets alarm bells in his head.  From the way she dresses in a blinding white, to her vaguely familiar hair that he couldn’t quite place, to the freckles dotting her skin that looked so out of place with her cold eyes.  Every word that came from her tongue reeked of honey and venom, and now, as he lays down alone, he feels grateful she’s not there.  Probably off worshipping her saints, or something.

He would snort, if it weren’t agonizing to do so.

It just leaves the case of what exactly he is now.  And he has a inclination he knows what that is.

Slavery.

Despite his amnesia, he’s still very much aware of the term and concept.  The disgust runs down his spine and he shudders.  The very idea that one human being could be considered lesser than another, to the point that they’d be kept as pets , is sickening.  Yet here he is, a slave in all but his heart - his name already taken - travelling to who knows where and being stuck with who knows who .  He hears screams and cries from somewhere on the ship, and wrathful yells, and then silence.  His imagination goes wild, and 0731, for an instance, considers biting his own tongue off.

He doesn’t, of course.  Something in the back of his mind tells him not to.  But the instinct is still there.

The door creaks open, and the clack of high heels against wood resounds across the entire room.  0731 knows who it is, from the three times she’s been in already.  Doctor Hymn, here to check up on him no doubt.

As far as answers go, she’s told him nothing.  Not that he exactly asks many questions, considering the whole cannot move and talk situation, but that’s beside the point.  She keeps secrets close to her chest, and while he’s sure she’s never lied to him, she’s never told the full truth either.  Instead she gospels and speaks of her saints and expects him to know what she’s referring to.

“The blood samples have been completed,” she says.  She’s somewhere behind 0731, fiddling around on what he presumes to be a desk. “You have no illnesses, as far as I can tell.  As for your current condition. . .”

He feels her gaze bore into his skull.

“You’ll have to bear with it for a little while longer.  Once we get to Mariejois, you’ll be at the hands of the finest doctors in the world.”

The name Mariejois is unfamiliar to him, but it’s an indication of where he’s going, at least.  If only he knew where that is.

Something sharp pokes into the back of his spine, and suddenly it feels like knives are sticking into his back.  It takes him a moment to register that Doctor Hymn is lifting him up.  Not that it makes it any less painful.  He wants to scream, to cry, but any words hurt to say.  She seems to understand he’s in pain, however.

“This is only temporary.  We can’t have you drinking when you’re lying down, can we?” she says.

He wants to curse her, but all that comes out is a pathetic whimper.  

Doctor Hymn pours out a glass of water and brings it to his lips.  He’s parched, he realises, so he swallows it gladly.  Yet it stings and hurts down his throat.  Tears build up in the corner of his eyes, and he grimaces.  Doctor Hymn looks mildly concerned.  He wonders if she’ll be his solace during this time.

“We’ll have to fix that soon,” she says. “Our Saint would not want a product that cannot even drink.”

His heart breaks into pieces, and he loses whatever semblance of hope he has left.  As she straps him back into the bed, he’s dumbfounded.

“We’ll be arriving at Reverse Mountain soon.  Brace yourself.”

With that, she’s gone, and leaves him alone yet again.

0731 wants to scream and break free.  He wants to kick everyone’s ass and go someplace else and to be free .  Free of his shackles, free of this world, free of his fate.  Everything about now is choking him to death, it’s gripping his heart tightly and ripping it apart.  It’s not just about his injuries.  It’s not physical.

Not that they help much with that, either.  The injuries, that is.

So, instead, he stares at the ceiling, and begins counting in his head again.  He’s almost up to the final plank he can see when a sudden jolt breaks him out of his concentration, and the feeling of the straps scraping against his wounds sends him on fire.

Chaos is happening outside.  He can hear that, at least.  Screams, muffled yelling, rushing water .  It almost sounds like a waterfall.  Then, the entire ship rattles and shakes, and with it so does he.

To say that it is painful would be an understatement.  It is excruciatingly so.  His body is in no condition to move, let alone so violently, so being jerked around like that . . . it did not do him any favours.  It lasts for about two minutes before there’s a moment where he’s almost floating off his bed, kept down only by the straps, until he lands straight back down and the shaking begins again.

“Ah - Ah!”

His voice finally comes to him, in a hoarse whisper - but his voice nonetheless.  And at what a spectacular time, too!  For he was, as far as he was aware, about to die from the violent jerking and his injuries.  

Never again.  He never wants to go through that ordeal again.  Now the ship rocks gently, as if it’s on calm waters once again.  A clock ticks nearby, voice from above still muffled and still yelling, albeit quieter than before.

Staring at the ceiling, he begins to sob.  

It doesn’t take long for 0731 to scream.

[mousehole5000]

 this is it... the final post.... 226 through THE END!!!!!

this shit with mu qing and the river of lava is SOOOO dramatic im loving it

oh my god theyre on a FUCKING bridge of course they are okay let’s go boys

“You’re right. We’re alike. You think me odd, I think you to be rather weird too.” - so what im getting from this is that xie lian and mu qing are the only characters in this book with working gaydar okay yup got it this checks out

god... the fact that xie lian is ready to be like “look mu qing we can just forget about the past it doesnt matter we dont have to be friends i know you dont like me but im not gonna let you die over it” and then mu qing is like “.... god i really do admire you huh”

“You...certainly...are rather amazing. You’re...also...a better person...than me. Long story short, I...very much wanted...to become your f-f-friend.”  - going to think about this for the rest of all time im about to become utterly unintelligible im overcome with emotions

“And, at the end of the white silk band, Feng Xin was gripping Ruoye with one hand while the other was holding on to a steel-faced Mu Qing, and he shouted towards him.” - the fucking IMAGE of this im gonna cry this is everything i could have asked for im so happy also mu qing dangling there like “ welp. guess ill live“

“Feng Xin was almost burnt by that pillar of fire, and he shouted in outrage. “WHAT’S WITH THIS BAND OF DOG SHITS, ATTACKING PEOPLE WHILE THEY’RE DOWN, SO VILE! FUCK YOUR ENTIRE FAMILY!” Xie Lian responded, “IF THEIR ENTIRE FAMILIES ALL LOOK LIKE THAT, YOU SURE YOU WANT TO FUCK THEM??” - theyre so funny!!! and theyre best friends!!! theyre joking together now in the middle of all this i could cry theyre back!!!

“Using sticks as arrows, he held the bow with one hand and used his teeth to bite back the bowstring.” - no clue how practical this is but okay archer boy. hot

i actually have so many little quips between the three of them highlighted but we’d be here all night if i included them all. im literally so delighted by this omg worth the wait

“Each sabre strike slashed to the bone. It wasn’t like Xie Lian had never seen Hua Cheng use the sabre before in the past, but his style had always been easy and leisurely, nonchalant and casual. Rather than say he was handling a weapon, it was more like he was toying with a small knife. Yet those blade marks were filled with killing intent. It was easy to imagine just how skilled the one exchanging blows with him was, and how perilous this battle.” you have no idea how mad i was when i read this and thought we missed witnessing the fight between hc and jw omg

“Behind him, Feng Xin muttered, “Dear fucking god, may all the gods and buddhas grant their blessings, that better absolutely be Crimson Rain Sought Flower, otherwise he’s gonna go mad!” “Stop your rubbish,” Mu Qing berated. “We’re all the gods and buddhas ourselves and we can’t grant shit, just keep up with him! Look at the stumbling way he’s running, he’s gonna trip and fall to his bloody death before he even sees the man!” - okay i know i said no more quips but this is literally too funny i just wanted to read it again

“ However, for whatever reason, that vicious ghost, in its muddled state, took that large group of live mortals under its wing and fled for many days. In the end, they were still surrounded by millions of ghosts, trapped in a dead end, and it was going to be eaten along with those humans.” [...] “That vicious ghost almost made a move against those humans, but for some reason, in the end, it didn’t. It instead used one of its own eyes as the price to forge a blood weapon. That vicious ghost was already forcibly hanging on with its last breath; after digging out its eye it should’ve broken apart completely. Yet somehow something had shocked it, and it instead woke to its senses completely. “ - THIS IS AMAZING ARE YOU KIDDING ME???? IS THIS ALL WE GET ABOUT HIS GHOSTLY LORE?????? HUA CHENGGGGGGGG

“What a terrible offence, his old habit had come out, and he quickly apologized. “I’m sorry! You don’t have to listen to me!” Hua Cheng, however, only smiled happily. “Everything gege tells me is the best advice, so why wouldn’t I listen?” - this isnt the fucking time afjdkfjsdkl they really never stop

“So you can hold the illusion of a perfect Crown Prince of Wuyong to face and dismiss the Jun Wu now. Isn’t that your objective? Did you think I don’t know what you’re thinking?” “THAT’S NOT IT!” Guoshi cried. “Stop getting tied up in right and wrong, victories and defeat, I’VE NEVER THOUGHT THAT WAY BEFORE!” - jun wu only being able to see xie lian as his successor and believing that thats all anyone else sees too... okay

honestly this whole final showdown was a blast i cant put everything in but it was so much fun to read. the DRAMA the LAVA the SHOUTING t

“Hua Cheng had poured too much spiritual power into him. There really was too much, so much that it was completely outside the amount the cursed shackle could withstand.” - okay.... okay... the love you give will set you free... okay....

“With Jun Wu in his grip, he carried both their bodies and forcefully slammed into the incomparably-solid rock wall! He used all of his power in this smash, and in the rumbling and crashing of rocks, he also heard the sound of something breaking.” [...] “A moment later, Jun Wu suddenly asked, “That move. What is it called?” “...” Xie Lian raised his sleeve and wiped away the blood on the side of his face. “Shattering boulders on the chest.” YES!!!!! YES!!!!! xie lian actually lived that life!!!!!! i loved this detail so much

“After a moment of silence, Xie Lian took off the bamboo hat carried on his back, took it in his hand, and covered it over Jun Wu’s face.” - xie lian... good... another detail i love. a hat that protects from the rain, given in a moment of need, even to someone who has caused you hardship... we do not forget the kindness granted to us

“There was gratefulness, there was shame, there was heartache, there was wild joy, but above all else, there was incurable love.” - :pleading: i wish it was just that easy tbh. “i have to tell you about the worst parts of myself” “ive already seen them and i dont care i still love you“ truly the dream

“ It’s been so long since anyone listened to me talk, won’t you stay? Don’t...actually do this. I won’t be able to take it. Twice, it’s been twice already! I really don’t want there to be a third time!!!” - the bit about just wanting someone to listen to him talk... xie lian... :(

emily corpse bride moment.... i knew it had to happen.... butterflies.... death and rebirth.... inevitable

xianle trio bickering about ruoye..... mu qing complaining but not letting anyone else fix it... im so happy

“The Rain Master sat down on the spot, looking like she was going to perform a passing service for her. After all, Xuan Ji was the only one left of the Kingdom of Yushi besides herself.”  - xuan ji you sure the hell were... a character. this little moment tho..... yushi huang... many thoughts

“ Who hasn’t made promises, or swore to the mountains and the seas when they were young? Talking of affection, of love, of forevers. But, the longer I hang around in the world, the more I understand, something like ‘forever’ is impossible. It’s never going to be possible. Having it once was already good enough. No one can truly achieve it. I don’t believe in it anymore.” - jian lan im happy for you bummer it didnt work out with feng xin but yeah that was looooong ago. also this quote me same mood kin but its chill. having it once was already good enough

although yeah tbh if theres anyone who can have a forever like that... it would be a ghost and a god

fasdfjadklfj GOD... pour one out for ling wen.. but is that not the truth of this world? the one can be pardoned for being good at paperwork that no one else wants to do? isnt that the plot of the shawshank redemption?

okay but the fact that all xie lian’s friends come to visit him while he waits for hua cheng is making me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.... fengqing coming together to try to get him out of the house but get scared off by his cooking... amazing

“Last time, they spent eight hundred years running towards each other. This time, it only took an instant to fall into each other’s embrace.” - im completely unaffected by this. im not lying i swear (i am lying im very emotionally affected)

okay i love this final wrap up chapter party its so fun. mu qing moving on from the broom thing!!! good for him!! the beggars get their reward!!! the fun ghost city chefs!! SQX!!!! and he xuan is?? here too??? he’s hungry??? fjadlkfjsdl

“The grounds that Feng Xin and Mu Qing had just swept were once again filthy from that giant crowd of muddy feet. Mu Qing gripped his broom, looking like he felt someone had infected him with fleas, and his eyes were wide.” - me when my dad comes into the kitchen when ive just finished washing dishes i get it king

the little folklore bit... fun!!! oh my god its over..... :(

that was really fun i had a blast reading it and on the whole really liked it i WISH soo badly that hua cheng had gotten more outside of being cunty and devoted even tho those are both important i just wish there was more about like how he got by during those 800 years and like did he ever have doubts? what shaped his worldview was it all xie lian or was it his experience as a mortal as well? why is he so mean to e’ming? theres bits and pieces here and there and i know it was already SO long but that really would have been great if there was more about hc cuz tbh by the end, at least for me, the hualian relationship didnt actually feel as fleshed out as the xianle trio relationship like i still liked hualian’s dynamic and it was really sweet how much they clearly really liked each other and  everything but i kind of wish some of the other subplots had been dropped or diminished in favor of more hc development i think that would have been cool

but anyway thats some of my thoughts and i really did enjoy the hell out of book 5 that was a riot and uhhh thanks to everyone who read these or commented *lends you spiritual energy through a high five*

[foryouthegays]

in stream, ren started talkin abt why hes afraid of horse lips (yes, really), and i vaguely decided to summarize it live, it was hard, have this:

when i was a young child, my mom took me to a horse farm, or a ranch or whatever, and she wanted me to start socializing more with girls, and one of her friends had a daughter my age who was into horses, they had horses or whatever, and one afternoon we went over to the ranch, and she didnt tell me that there was gonna be a girl involved, and we went to this horse farm, and lo and behold, there was this girl. and listen, this girl was fineee, da m n, at this age i dont think id ever spoken to a girl, and i was already completely lost as to what to do or say, all i can remember is that she was really pretty, and i was digging it, 

and she was a horse girl, obviously, she had like three horses, a really wealthy family, and at one point the moms were like well now we have to get the kids to talk, and her mom was like why dont you go show him your horses! and at the time, perfectly innocent suggestion, and we awkwardly went over to the stables, and we pranced down to the stables, if you will excuse the equestrian pun.

 we go to the stables, and the horses were in their cage-well, its not a cage,,,what do you call it? an enclosure- and we were just chatting and whatnot, we were getting along, things were going well, until she suggested that i feed the freaking horse, and when youre like 12 years old a horse is MASSIVE, when youre 12 you can pretty much stand under a horse, theyre BEASTS with massive lips and massive teeth, and that horse was eyeballing me, ive never been eyeballed by a horse until that day. it was looking me up and down, all back up, whatchu comin in here for, dont 'chu be touchin my girl, that horse KNEW, like back then i was thinking that there was an opportunity for a kiss, ya know, kiss noises, 

and them [horse] lips man, those lips were quivering, and i had never fed a horse before, u have to put ur palm all flat and theyll chop down on the food, and listen, i'm not going to be feeding an animal if it can potentially be biting my fingers off 

listen, there is NO NEED to be feeding an animal that can be biting your fingers off. anyway, obviously, wanting to impress the girl, and potentially kiss noises getting a lil smooch action, and she showed me, putting her hand real flat, and the horse eats up that carrot, and im so scared im shaken', and that horse looks at me with fire in his eyes and he is NOT messing around, and when i put that hand out to that horse, he moves his lips around my hand and on that carrot im pretty sure he was trying to bite my hands, he was NOT going for the carrot, he knew i was goin for that girl and he did NOT like it, and his lips were goin all around, and i did not do a very manly aHH and drop the carrots, and it was at that moment the girl realized i was not going to be a horse person. also, i'm terrified of horse lips 

that took so long and it wasnt even the whole thing, ill get the actual timestamp later but its around 3 hours into todays stream

[citialiin]

FIVE SONGS

list five songs associated with your muse and its meaning to them as a character, or to you as the writer. this can be applied in-character or out-of-character. it can go as deep as looking at the song’s real-world origins or meaning along with the themes it carries to the muses’ story, values, or experiences, or as simple as if your muse would listen to this kind of music, or even if you just listen to these pieces for inspiration.

TAGGED BY: @dansiere​​, who did such a good detailed job they even included an “honorable mentions list” ? i am embarrassed to type mine out now TAGGING: @blossomingbeelzebug​​ @zhrets​​ @dirtyfilthysunshine​​ @prcphesise​​ @hyakiru​ @foxcharmed​

01. kaun komsott - ros sereysothea

this song actually lyrically has absolutely nothing to do with ziggy !!!!  kaun komsott /  កូនកំសត់ actually just means “poor/pitiful child” it’s just a khmer dub of a song from a taiwanese movie lol but i feel like this is the kind of music he would listen to that made him fall in love with, like ... humanity, as dumb as that sounds. it’s time period appropriate (late 60s/early to mid 70s), the song is really good and it’s SO emotional.  i could see him sitting in the apartment of his bandmates after being “found” and they teach him how to use the record player and he sits there going through each and every record they have and listening to this and its like the fucking scene in ratatootie where the goddamn rat can visualize tastes as colors but he would be so enamored with the song he would see it in colors or something i dunno.  something has definitely fucking happened to my brain because ever since nat and alex and i rewatched ratatootie we keep referencing it for our characters. anyways i ended up using an instrumental of kaun komsott in the final film i made as the song that plays during the end.  so this song just also means a lot to me because it’s part of how i made this character and the film/story i animated to go along with him, i am sure you are all absolutely sick of hearing me talk about it <3  

02. who can i be now - daveed booweyywywy now you found me, now can I be real?  can I be real? if it’s all a vast creation / putting on a face that’s new someone has to see / a role for him and me someone might as well be you

one of z’s most obvious character motifs is figuring out self identity through adopting different guises.  he markets himself as being so overly confident and almost arrogantly certain of himself -- rock god space idol whatever -- as his own way of learning who he thinks he might be underneath it all.  i think at first it started off a little innocuous, a ‘ fake it till u make it ’ thing at the least and maybe more obviously a ‘ im not a human so i have to pretend to be someone else ’ deal, but over time it became almost all consuming and just obliterated all his previously held sense of self in favor of some weirdly demented version of who he wanted to be.  683 starts off with the same core personality traits as ziggy: maybe he’s a little vain, a little selfish, but he’s very interested in creativity/self-expression and he wants to be thought of as a unique individual and appreciated for his differences.  but the difference is that 683 isnt an arrogant asshole who has no regard for other people in the slightest.  so yeah ... who can u be now ... is it worth it to adopt a different guise or should he go through the effort of figuring out what parts of his personality were corroded by human influence and what parts are genuinely him?  my big endgame thoughts for his story would be that he eventually just decides to retire from the public eye and fucks off entirely.  this would be over the course of a long long long time -- maybe he has a good 20 yr run in the industry -- but there are some things about him he has to deal with (mental health issues, drug addiction, also the fact that you’re a freaky alien creature who doesnt age like a human so you’re physically like 46 and you still look like you’re 25?) so he inevitably decides he doesnt need the horrible pressure of fame and he ought to just live his life for himself.  i think this would be a nice final song for him to sing/perform -- then he goes into the dressing room and cuts his hair and just vanishes. bye.

03. sunny afternoon - the kinks Help me, help me, help me sail away Well give me two good reasons why I oughta stay 'Cause I love to live so pleasantly Live this life of luxury Lazing on a sunny afternoon

1. i think this would sound A LITTLE like the kind of music he would write/play albeit i feel like his would be more exciting and have more samplings of like laser noises or pewpewpew or weird spaceship sounds BUT.  its also pretty time period appropriate.  even in “modern” verses ziggy is inexplicably obsessed with the 1970s, he likes bell bottoms and thinks groovy patterns are neat and he owns too many lava lamps.  anywayz. 2. just the general idea of feeling unfulfilled with luxury -- even if ziggy enjoys his fame and wealth and the absolutely insane amount of pussy/dick he gets at some level he is still cognizantly aware of how weirdly empty he feels.  he ditched atomina and came here because he felt unfulfilled and bored and unwanted.  now he feels wanted (clearly, everyone loves him) and he feels entertained (earth is So Good at fun distractions) but his fulfillment still isnt quite there.  he’s getting there -- but in exchange of being able to live this life of fame, he’s had to kind of change everything about himself and live this almost caricature version of himself, and he knows he cant keep it up forever.  the luxury will run out one day and he’ll be a washup and no one cares about celebrities once they stop being hip.  it is literally only a matter of time before ziggy has to find out who he is because no one can be a “rockstar” forever.

04. i hate jimmy page - mindless self indulgence SUCKAS CAN REACH OUT TOUCH ME EAT ME BITE DA FUTURE & FUCK DA PAST  I'm lower than most animals and fear what might be weird and all those voices in my head have every right to be there i ain't a girl just cause i rock the boat i ain't a boy just cause i rock your world

i mean he does hate jimmy page but that’s beside the point. its just a good song about being a crazy rockstar and has the same Craziness that i feel like accompanies his character ... just go listen to it you will understand. there is nothing to explain here.  even the lyric “ill show u how official midgets jack me off” like just accept it. it’s whatever  but yeah i aint a girl i aint a boy ... i guess his gender (or lack thereof) never really comes up in rp but its still an important part of his character.  if any of u guys ever call him a man in prose again ill kick ur ass.  gender is like an accessory to him and he just takes whatever aspects of masculinity/femininity he prefers and discards everything else.  to him he’s just as much a “man” or a “woman” as he is a “human” which is to say he isnt, at all, and he just pretends to be because he feels obligated to.  also ziggy’s brain kind of sounds like this...just Noises.  his brain sounds like a microwave that’s been going off for 26 years.  i think his brain is a single uncooked pinto bean rolled in glitter that’s been left in a box with a cobweb

05. ghostride - crumb daydreaming I stay in the backseat / the slow beat rocks me back to sleep keeps me on automatic  press my face up close against the glass i see the people when they pass they move so automatic you wake up when I go down / the radio reminds me I'm alive we've been hearing it all night

i care more about 683 on atomina than i do about ziggy on earth sometimes (BUT I CARE THEM BOTH. DO U?) so ... 683 feeling aimless and drifting but trying to find purpose through passion, a person, some sort of concrete meaning -- going through the motions of life makes him feel empty he spends almost every day going through the same toil while feeling guilty or like a burden and also feeling like he’s ultimately nothing more than a replaceable cog in a machine. his species had a near extinction = bottleneck which made them so genetically similar they’re almost clones of each other.  no one ever seems to do anything wrong except him, he finds no joy or fulfillment in anything at all.  all he ever wanted (which isnt a selfish desire at all) was to feel purpose, or feel wanted, or appreciated. inevitably he leaves because of his own imagination -- he yearns for something More, and he doesn’t know What, so he figured he ought to at least Try instead of waste his life away. also atomina is supposed to sound like “automatic.”  do NOT make fun of my bad scifi.  i am trying to mimic the way 1970s scifi is endearingly cheesy.  come here.  i just want to touch you with this knife.  gently tho it wont go inside of you. bro you are bleeding. bro we are bleeding and i keep putting the knife in your soft parts.

[starkerforlife6969]

Starker, Hades Stark

TW uh...it’s a bit dark? Just watch out cuties. Mild Dubcon. Abuse of authority. 

“Stark?” Comes a voice.

Tony doesn’t turn around just yet. He lets the voice delight the fire in his bones as it sinks down through his body. Oh how delightful, a voice. For once, no meaningless screaming from the demons, no tortured groans of agony from the dead- no, this is something different. This is- a voice.

He turns, smirk changing in a look of- disbelief.

That’s a mortal.

It’s a- a mortal, in- in Hell, in his country, but- how-

Tony drinks in the sight of him. His eyes flash crimson as he takes him in. “A human,” he breathes, and the boy trembles in the face of his immensity. “Not even a demigod, not even half…” he crosses the stone hall in a flash and the boy lets out a shriek but he doesn’t move. Tony leans down and presses his nose against the boy’s throat, breathing in the scent of his blood. Not even an enchanted mortal. This boy is pure. “Oh,” Tony purrs, tracing a clawed fingernail over the boy’s cheek. “I think you have quite the story to share, don’t you?”

The boy swallows hard, but stands his ground. “If you’ll hear me, Hades.”He offers, sweet as anything.

Tony grins. Sharp. White. Too many teeth. “How many of my names do you know?”

He lifts his chin and looks almost brave when he says: “Enough.”

“Well, you have my attention and my ears,” he sighs, trying not to betray how thrilled he is. It’s not Steve, or Zeus, or whatever he’s going by these days, coming down and lecturing him again. It’s not a goddess from Olympus demanding leniency from the fates, it’s not another boatful of writhing corpses, no this is a human. A very, very pretty human. Tony never gets to see them for very long in this state. Alive. He wants to treasure it. “But here is not the place.”

He transports them, in a whirl of fire and flame, into his palace.

The walls glitter with crystals, the floor is studded with gems, and Tony glides to his throne, and waves a hand, lighting a path of the floor on either side of the mortal with ashy, whisping smoke. “Begin.” He orders. 

The trembling mortal nods. “My name is Peter Parker,” he begins, and he has very lovely brown eyes. Tony marvels at them. “My Uncle- my Uncle Ben, he- he-“ his voice shakes and Tony raps his fingernails against the throne’s arms. This is boring. Oh, he’s heard this plea before- Peter seems to notice and tries to hurry through. “He died.” He spits out, “and I- I heard that you- that you sometimes show mercy-“

Tony wants to laugh. “Darling boy,” Tony purrs, “you’ve been cruelly misinformed, I’m afraid.” 

Peter barrels on. His skin is milky white, his hair is silken and wavy and Tony could study him for centuries. Have mortals always been so beautiful? He thought that was reserved for gods like him and the other Olympians. “I also heard that you make deals against formidable beings. Was that wrong too?”

Tony eyes him with a grin. “Are you a formidable being, Peter Parker?”

Peter doesn’t smile. “I made it here, didn’t I?” He hisses, and Tony lifts his eyebrows and waves him on. He has to give the human that. “I found the entrance in the mountains- I came down into hell, and I found your river. I tricked the man with the boat with fake gold, I jumped off half way and swam through the Styx, I navigated the realms and I’m here. I found you, with no one’s help. I am formidable.”

This is…true. Tony tips his head consideringly. The boy has made it here. He snaps his fingers, and the smoke disappears. The crystals twinkle iridescently. He likes this boy. He likes the supple, human form. They can be so pretty when they last. “And what would you like to make a deal on? Sweet Uncle Ben, I assume.”

Fierce brown eyes glitter up at him for taking the name in vain, before Peter gets down onto his knees very slowly. Purposely. And Tony leans forward to drink it in. God, he loves it when they beg. Peter must know this. “You made a deal with Orpheus.” Peter whispers, “When he played the harp for you, you let his wife come back from the dead.”

Tony licks his lips in anticipation. That one act of kindness seems to make everyone think he has a soft spot. Oh, they’re wrong. “Don’t you remember what happens next?” He whispers eagerly. Orpheus and his wife are down here too. In agony somewhere. He should pay them a visit. 

“You had a condition. You always have a condition.”

“You humans,” he purrs approvingly, leaning back, “you get smarter every time I see you.”

Peter doesn’t blink at the compliment which is graceless. Tony will train that out of him. “I want my Uncle Ben to be allowed back to Earth. Happy, alive, well. Return him unharmed and do not harm him once he’s free. Do you understand that? Can you…” a little more hesitantly, “...can you do that?”

Such things are child’s play. “Without lifting a finger, little one. Be assured. But what do I get for such an act of kindness?”

“It must be lonely,” Peter muses with faux-idleness, looking around the glittering palace. If he’s impressed by the millions of diamonds, he doesn’t show it. He looks clever and calculating. “All alone down here. No one to talk to.”

Tony bites. “You’re offering to stay?” He asks, just a little impressed. It’s not the first time someone has made the trade, but it’s been a long time.

“I am.”

Peter looks assured, like this is a deal he’s sure Tony will take and Tony- well, like he said. It’s not the first time. “This has been fun, little human,” he sighs, whistling, so two of his most deformed monsters, with too many bones at awkward angles appear and grab hold of Peter’s arms. “But I’m afraid I’ll pass. My friends here will see you out. And you’d best not come back if you know what’s good for you. Tell your friends about me.”

Peter yelps, struggling against the hold determinedly, his eyes wide as saucers. “What would you accept?” He screams in desperation.

Tony flies across the room and stops just before his face. Nose to nose, he looks deep into the whirlpool of the boy’s eyes, and sees his own face reflected back at him. “Letting me set the terms?” He growls, using a clawed nail to slice open the mortal garment that covers Peter’s chest. His torso is pretty just like his face. For now. The boy nods. So young. Barely a man. Tony’s lived for eons. “Human life is…far too short.” He says thoughtfully,  “I’d have a…companion in you for barely a blink of an eye.”

Peter frowns, “how can that be helped?”

“Oh, it can be helped.” Tony murmurs, and he lifts up his hand. In it, he conjures the glass vial full of ambrosia, and Peter stares at it in awe. “This is ambrosia, sweet boy.” He strokes his free hand through Peter’s hair and the two demons gibber excitedly like goblins. “One sip, you’re a god.” His fingers tickle down the boy’s throat, over to his chest and resting over his heart. “Mine not just for your life, but for eternity.”

The vial gleams and Tony presses it into Peter’s hand, stepping back and gesturing for the demons to release him. Peter slumps once he’s released, staggering to find his footing and staring at the vial in shock. “Eternity?” He breathes, “you want me for-“ he rapidly changes tactic. “One million years.” He offers.

Tony laughs, a full booming laugh, it’s been so long since he’s had one of those. “Very clever boy. I know how much you humans love an end in sight, but this is not that story. If you want your precious Uncle Ben to rejoin- your darling Aunt May, is it?” Peter’s eyes widen, and Tony smirks. “There’s nothing I don’t know,” he whispers. “When I want to know it. If I’d wanted to- I would have known when you found the door and how you made it through, but when you get to my age…” he chuckles, “a little surprise is a good thing, right guys?”

The demons chort and snuff.

Imbeciles.

“What happens if I drink the whole vial?” Peter asks, lifting it up curiously. He doesn’t sound upset. He’s considering it. The possibility of a companion- of a companion in his bounds- so beautiful, and only enhanced in beauty by the ambrosia has Tony desperately keen. His fingers seem to thrum with hope. What a human emotion.

“The more you drink, the faster it happens, that’s all.” The more painful it will be. “It’ll hurt less,” he whispers enticingly, because he wants to see the boy cry in pain.

Peter licks his lips and looks him right in the eye. “You’ll free Uncle Ben?”

Tony grins and draws a silver cross in the air. It twinkles and dissipates. “He’s already free.”

Peter pulls the cork, and downs the whole vial.

Tony and the beasts howl with glee.

[cuilective]

Announcement: New Muse(s?) Incoming

Actually, possibly two, though I’d like a bit of input first if at all possible.

The one that I for sure have in the works is an OC I had back when I first joined the pokemon roleplaying community back during the ORAS hype: my Team Aqua grunt Alphonse. He’s a tall gangly softboy whose signature pokemon is a sassy Girafarig he named Banana. He’s a pro at names, guys. Always dooting a kazoo or trying to cheer people up with puns, he’s the sweetest ‘villain’ around. Joined Team Aqua more for the roof over his head and steady income but couldn’t really care less about the team’s ultimate goals, but the team in general has become so much like a family to him that he’ll do whatever he can for them.

Now, there was one other muse I wanted to add... but I can’t really pick between the two OCs. I’d like to see which one, if either, y’all might be interested in interacting with? Or maybe both??? I’ll ramble a bit about them each beyond the cut cus it’s kinda long oops... there’s tl;drs under each character if it’s too much to read at once gjbdfgh

One of the two would be a trainer unaffiliated with any team or organization, Cooper Evans. His signature pokemon is an Espurr named Marnie, who is an intense busybody and a walking callout post of a cat and likes to abuse her telepathy to pester people... when Coop isn’t around, anyway. She’ll only behave around him. As you can see through the link he doesn’t have a very human appearance, so trying to figure out a pokeverse for him has been a bit tricky.

I’m still figuring it out, but first option is he might be a human/ultra beast fusion made secretly in Aether’s underground labs out of an unofficial ultra beast called UB Infinity or Neuroboros, a serpentine psychic/poison purple dragon captured by Aether and kept under lock and key to be studied while it slumbered away biting its own tail. The fusion was with a comatose and deathly ill young Cooper in a desperate attempt by an Aether scientist to bring him back from the brink of death.

Or I’ll remove the Aether aspect entirely and he’s fused with various mundane pokemon in an attempt to give him a stronger body. Pokemon like Nidoking, Espurr, and Feraligatr, and possibly others were used. Either way he takes on a very inhuman appearance and has to find a way to fit in without, yknow, scaring the living daylights out of people. He typically does this by dressing like the Poke Maniac trainer class. Big stuffed nidoking suit to hide his tail and ears in with slots to put his horns through, and a simple cloth mask to hide his jagged teeth. He’s got an excuse for any odd trait of his when asked. But ye, he’s at least 19 and an absolute meme. An obnoxious little meme. He hasn’t given up on dabbing yet, but when it comes to memes his favorite has to be the classic rick roll.

I have yet to find a fitting faceclaim of him due to his unique face, so chances are I’ll have to commission some simple icons. But until then I’m thinking Shigeo Kageyama would do well enough, since it’s close enough to his previously human appearance. gamefreak tried to be slick with allistair the purble masked spooky boy but coop was first!!!!

TL;DR: Psychic Purple Little Man Tries To Blend In With Normal Humans, Has The Power of Anxiety And Anime On His Side. And A Cat.

My other option... Aleksey Volkov (< each name is a link! warning for shirtless old sketch in the second half???), the ‘Beast of Rocket’. (Not to be confused with pokespe’s ‘three beasts of rocket’) Though likely without the fluffy ears/tail... maybe. I dunno. I’m kind of attached to them. He’s at least around 30 years old. He studied the differences and commonalities between humans and pokemon--particularly humans with ESP and pokemon that are said to have originally been human. His goal was to unlock the 'innate power' he believed each human to have, which was comparable to a pokemon and its moves/abilities. His theory was that ancient humans had powers akin to pokemon and his goal was to activate those ancient genes in modern humans.

His experiments were getting some interesting results, but he got the attention of Team Rocket before long. They abducted him and his wife and daughter, using his family as leverage to get him to work for them. Their goal was to use him to find a way to harness the energy of pokemon to give humans superhuman abilities, much in the same line as what he was doing already. This was in a particularly cold part of the world, so traits were chosen from ursaring, piloswine, and mightyena to create a superhuman who was perfectly suited to fighting in subzero temperatures.

When it came time to test what he currently had, he refused to test on anyone else but himself. It worked, in a way, turning him into an actual manbearpig... but also scrambling up his head to the point where he was difficult to control and no longer seemed to remember anything in regards to the project, or... much of anything else, actually. The project deemed a failure and not even remembering his own family, what he became was instead used as muscle for Team Rocket whenever they need to dish out knuckle sandwiches for whatever reason. Typically loaned out to the different executives and admins, either as a bodyguard, enforcer, or something of an assassin, as any evidence left behind would point to some wild pokemon attack, not a human, right?

His faceclaim would be Klaus Von Reinherz. I mean, look at him!!! the lil tusks... the sideburns... it him.

TL;DR: Doctor Prettyboy is forced by Team Rocket to make a super soldier potion. He tests it on himself and becomes Manbearpig. He is now huge and angry and strong but can’t remember anything else. Team Rocket is keeping him as a sexy, sexy weapon. Quite possibly over eight feet tall even while slightly hunched over.

I genuinely can’t pick one or the other because I love them both and think they’d both have a lot of potential for neat interactions. Can you see your characters interacting with either of these? Do you have any interest or questions? Please feel free to reply, send an ask, IM me, whatever. Be as honest or nosy as you want, I’ll even take anonymous input if that’s what folk are more comfortable with. I just want to be selective with which characters I add to this multimuse because I don’t want to end up with 50 characters and only end up using like 3 of them, yknow?

[your-iron-lung]

No Shade in the Shadow of the Cross 10

aka ‘The House That Dripped Blood’; available to read on AO3 HERE

Story Synopsis:  Some weird low-key occult parties start popping up that Steve can’t in good conscience ignore and takes it upon himself to investigate. Billy gets caught up in the consequences of his meddling, and isn’t it funny? For all the strange things the Upside Down has thrown his way, it’s werewolves that Steve has trouble accepting exist.

Chapter Word Count: 7927

Pairings: Eventual Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington

Genre: Supernatural/Drama/Horror-ish

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

Next Chapter: 11

Notes: if you follow me you may have noticed i havent posted in a while- this is bc i spend all my time playing ffxiv instead of setting aside determined amounts of time to spend on writing/drawing and i have a bunch of artist alleys coming up that im ill prepared for and im terrible at budgeting UH YEP bad excuse but WHAT CAN YA DO here we are

(ive also set up a ko-fi account if you want to give drop me some tippy tips if u enjoy the word things i do) ((no pressure tho))

"Bigfoot."

Hopper leaned back in his chair; let it creak and groan under his weight until he knew it was at its limit, and then pushed it a little more. He studied the no-nonsense expression on the hunter before him, and intrinsically knew that the man was speaking truth.

"Bigfoot," the old man said again, speaking a little sterner than he had before once he recognized Hopper's amiable expression of disbelief. "I seen't him out in the woods just the other day."

The aging man had lumbered into the police station almost immediately after Hopper came in, bundled in some worn hunting gear that looked almost as old as he was. The deputies had offered to speak with him after hearing his initial claim, but they'd been refused when Callahan couldn't stop smirking. The old hunter had insisted on speaking with Hopper, who leaned forward now, taking the stress off of his chair to take a sip of the coffee Florence had brought in for him. He didn't look at the old man as he drank.

"So let me get this straight," Hopper began, setting his coffee aside to rub at his forehead, "you came in first thing in the morning worried about a missing friend of yours, but now you're telling me you're worried about Bigfoot."

"You know me, Jim," the hunter said, a slight hint of pleading desperation edging out of his voice. "You know I ain't some crazy old coot. I ain't seen Lamm in a long while, and yessir I'm worried 'bout him, but when I went out to his cabin to check on him I seen it: I seen Bigfoot!"

As incredulous as the claim was, Hopper believed him- not about it being Bigfoot, exactly, but he believed that the man had seen something out there in the woods, and it had the possibility of being that something he'd spent the last two weeks fruitlessly searching for.

Regardless, he didn't want to let the old hunter know he was taking him seriously. The last thing he needed was for his community to think he believed in this sort of nonsense, but people in town were going missing, and people he knew were getting hurt: if his only lead should turn up in the form of an old man believing he'd caught sight of an urban legend, then so be it. He'd follow it through, but he'd be subtle about it.

"You sure it wasn't just a trick of the light or something, Wes? You know your eyes aren't what they used to be," Hopper remarked casually, softening his voice to let him down easy. "And this isn't the first time Lamm's gone missing; you know he's one of those types of shut ins. Remember those weeks he was gone hunting 'vampires'? He's the kind of guy who lives in his own head more than he lives out here, he'll turn up again on his own time."

The hunter's lips twitched into a frown. "Alright, maybe Lamm is a little off kilter," he relented, averting his eyes for a second, "and maybe it weren't Bigfoot, but the tracks it left were huge 'n mighty, by God, and I ain't seen nothin' else like it before. If it weren't Bigfoot, then at the very least it had big feet, Jim, and I ain't never seen feet quite like 'em."

Interest piqued, Hopper became more attentive. "How's that?"

"Well, they was stretched out lookin', for one." The hunter paused, tilting his head slightly as he tried to recall the details of what he'd seen out in the woods. He held his hands up, spaced apart in an approximation of how long the prints he'd found had been. "Human lookin', almost, which is what had me thinkin' it coulda been Bigfoot. They weren't the tracks of somethin' native 'round here, and I only caught but the barest glimpse of it, but it was tall, Jim; taller'n you or I."

That sounded right; the prints he'd found and unsuccessfully tracked were, as the hunter said, 'huge 'n mighty' and matched the description of what he'd just been told. It didn't take an expert's opinion (though he had consulted one) to discern that the markings just weren't natural. Hopper set his mug of coffee aside and pulled out a notepad from one of his desk drawers. He uncapped a pen and held it to the page for a moment before writing down a few preliminary notes for himself on the top line.

The hunter cocked his head and leaned forward to look at what he was writing and said, "That don't look official."

"Because it's not; this one's just gonna be between us, alright?" Hopper said, looking up to meet Wesley's blue, watery eyes. He held the stare long enough to get his point across, waiting for a sign of affirmation before looking back to the notepad and pressing the tip of the pen to the paper. "Tell me where and when exactly you saw this 'Bigfoot' of yours."

The day was cold and grey at its start, with harsh, biting winds ushering in thick clouds that blocked out any hope of the sun ever making an appearance. Steve eyed the sky apprehensively as he made his way back to his car, wary of the way the clouds looked as though they might start dropping hail on him at a moment's notice. Billy feigned disinterest as Steve opened the rear passenger door and leaned in to shove the box of things he'd bought at the Hunting & Camping store into the backseat. Even with his vision obscured in part by the sunglasses he'd elected to wear, he didn't miss the strong look of annoyance that graced Steve's features when he came around to the driver's seat and entered the car with a pout.

"That guy give you a hard time or something?" Billy asked as Steve buckled in and put the BMW into reverse, turning in his seat to hastily jerk the car out of the parking lot. "Why do you look like someone shit in your cereal?"

Steve clicked his tongue. "He just kept asking what a 'kid like me' needed with a bunch of chains and rope and shit. My god, he just would not let it go, like he thought I was trying to build my own sex dungeon or something. Fucking annoying."

"You mean that's not what we're doing?" Billy asked, grinning a bit at the way Steve's face pinched up in disgust. "What'd you say?"

"I told him the truth; said it was to tie up a werewolf. 'It's a full moon tonight, y'know? Gotta tie 'em down or they go all crazy on you', I said to him, and you know what he said to me then?" Steve asked, speeding out of the little downtown shopping area Hawkins played host to and sounding every bit as gossipy as Carol did when she caught wind of a scandal.

"How the fuck would I?" Billy drawled, turning away from the conversation to watch the scenery pass by disinterestedly.

"He said, 'Damn fool kids will never learn'," Steve said, ignoring him. "'Damn fool kids will never learn', like, what the hell does that mean?"

Billy shrugged. "Who knows? As long as he accepted daddy's plastic then what does it matter?"

Steve clicked his tongue again in annoyance and rolled his eyes. "Fuck you."

Feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on, Billy declined to retort. They rode on in silence, the chains in the box Steve had bought clinking together softly in the backseat before the radio was finally turned on to mask the sound.

Regardless of whether or not Steve actually believed something was going to happen to Billy that night, he couldn't deny that the whole day leading up to that evening just felt… off. From meeting up with Billy earlier that afternoon to go by the camping store, to grabbing lunch together before heading over to the Henderson's house, it all felt wrong.

It was something Steve had difficulty pinpointing the origins of, but as they began work on clearing out enough space in the cellar for Billy to do whatever it was he thought he was going to do, he soon came to realize that the feeling of wrongness seemed to stem from Billy himself.

Few words could better describe Billy than 'annoying' or 'smart-mouthed', but he'd been uncharacteristically tight-lipped all day. He'd become a remarkably dull version of himself, and Steve wasn't sure quite how to handle that.

Usually one to argue and bite back at everything Steve said, when he'd begun dishing out instructions on how best to clear out some floor space in the cellar, Billy hadn't talked back to him a single time; merely lit a cigarette and blinked at him slowly, silently acknowledging what had been asked of him before getting on with it.

It was unsettling. Steve could almost say that he hated how submissive Billy was because of how used he'd gotten to the back-talk and smart-ass remarks Billy usually had ready for him, and though, yes, there were times he had wished for this kind of attitude from him, the silence and absolute subordination coupled with all of the other behavioral changes Billy was exhibiting were enough to set Steve on edge.

Billy kept tonguing the gaps in his teeth where they'd fallen out over the course of the week, and he never seemed to realize he wasn't alone. Sometimes he'd jump at the sound of Steve's voice, or shake his head and crease his brow in confusion when he turned around to see Steve moving stuff somewhere behind him, but arguably the worst part of it all was that he stank.

He'd tried to mask it with an overabundance of cologne that had nearly suffocated Steve when they began working in closer quarters, but buried beneath that was a hint of something that smelled awfully rotten. If he had to, Steve could liken it to the stench of the monster they'd encountered in the woods, but he chose not to, instead chalking it up to a severe case of nervous b.o. or something. The implications that the scents could be related bothered him too deeply to believe, and even then he wasn't sure he really wanted to know what the source of the smell was.

The stench of decay emanating from Billy's person was worrisome enough on its own, but with so much to do in order to get ready before sunset, Steve had a hard time figuring out where to primarily apply his focus: there were simply too many things going on for him to worry about one thing more than another.

The giant hole in the wall that Dart made to tunnel out of the cellar was his immediate concern, but Dustin had done a good job of hiding it from his mother by placing a tall shelf in front of it, essentially blocking it off. That didn't mean it wasn't entirely inaccessible, but Steve wasn't sure what more he could do about it. In all honesty, he'd forgotten about it until he'd tried to move the shelf aside and then found himself peeking into the eerie tunnel. He'd knocked over several things in his haste to put the shelf back in place, but Billy hadn't seemed to notice it, and if he didn't, maybe he wouldn't think to use it if- or when- he lost himself to whatever supernatural effects he was experiencing.

"Big if, though," Steve muttered aloud to himself. Turning away from the shelf, he looked over to where Billy was inspecting some old power tools, turning a nail gun over in his hands before setting it back in the box he'd pulled it out of. "So, are we good or what? This baby-proofed enough for you?" Steve asked, startling Billy out of whatever ruminations he'd been lost to.

Billy looked at Steve blankly, face impassive and emotionless. He frowned, and then looked around himself as though he'd forgotten where he was. When he spoke, his voice was monotone and devoid of his usual arrogance as he said, "I don't know, Harrington; is it?"

"You tell me, man, this was your idea." Steve watched as Billy returned his focus on the box of tools he'd originally been rummaging through. Picking up a hammer, Billy balanced its weight in his hands before gripping the handle tightly. Steve distrusted the look in Billy's eye as he held it. "What are you, a child? Quit rifling through their shit, put it back," he said.

Billy didn't reply or even acknowledge that he'd heard him. Ignoring Steve's demand, he stepped up to the abandoned work bench to splay his left hand out over the wood and lifted the ballpeen up.

"What the fuck are you doing? Put it down," Steve said again, his voice rising slightly in pitch when he understood what Billy was doing. He started towards him in an effort to stop him, but halted when the hammer was brought crashing down.

It missed his hand, but the force of the impact splintered the wooden table's surface. Steve gaped as Billy turned around, a cocky little smile turning up his lips.

"Someone could get hurt real bad down here if they weren't careful, huh, Harrington?" he said, a fierceness that Steve hated to admit he'd missed charging his voice. "But we've been real careful cleaning this shithole out, haven't we, pally?"

"You sick piece of shit, give me that," Steve snapped, snatching the hammer away from Billy's pliant grip. "Fuck you, Hargrove; you could've just said you wanted to move this shit out of here."

"Had you pegged as being more of a visual learner," Billy sneered as Steve threw the hammer back into the box of tools. "Your concern was touching, though, really."

"You're the one who came asking me for help, fuckface. Begged me, almost, if I'm remembering right. 'Oh, Steve, help me, I'm so scared of fake movie monsters!'"

Steve hadn't meant to rise to the taunt, but Billy's insufferable attitude had him stooping to his level as he hoisted the hefty box of tools in his arms and lugged them over to the stairway. Billy laughed dryly at Steve's mocking tone.

"We both wish that fucking thing had been fake," he said as Steve placed the box on the ground at the foot of the stairs beside the box of supplies he'd bought earlier. They were both quiet for a moment, their attempt at a conversation dying as quickly as it had been brought on.

"Only one thing left to do then," Steve said morosely.

Billy blinked and turned to face the stairway, eyes rising slowly up to where the cellar doors were propped open wide. Steve felt the guilt of having to lock him in prematurely and had to remind himself that he wanted to be locked in.

"Better hop to it then, Harrington," Billy said lowly, lips curling back into a familiar grin, but without all his teeth in place to flesh it out, Steve found the display to be more unsettling than annoying. "Let's get this sex dungeon set up."

Steve grimaced. "Not even in your wildest dreams, Hargrove."

"Nothing's off the table in my dreams, pretty boy." Billy breathed out a small laugh at the disgusted look on Steve's face, but the grin he'd been displaying slowly fell away. "Is it getting dark yet?"

"Uh, kind of, but the sun hasn't set yet," Steve replied, stepping up into the stairwell to check the status of the sky. It was as dull and grey as it had been all day, the overcast weather acting as a harbinger for the snowfall the local meteorologist had foretold was coming. "If you took off those fucking sunglasses you'd be able to tell."

"These are for your benefit as much as mine," Billy snapped, frowning suddenly.

"Yeah, okay, whatever that means," Steve said dismissively as he began to fish out the cords of rope from the box, letting them spool out onto the ground before gathering them into his hands. "How do you uh, how do you want to do this?"

"Aw, is this kitten's first time tying someone up?" Billy purred, not moving from where he stood in the middle of the cellar, directly under the light. "Who knew 'King' Steve's favourite flavor was vanilla."

Steve rolled his eyes as he brought the ropes over, wrinkling his nose at the mixed smell of rot and cologne that got stronger with proximity. "I've dated girls kinkier than you'd know what to do with," he retorted as he gestured for Billy to hold out his hands.

"Oh please," Billy said with a snort, "there are no kinky girls in Hawkins or I would've found them by now."

"You're obviously not looking hard enough," Steve muttered in response, gesturing again for Billy to hold out his hands.

Shrugging out of his leather jacket and tossing it over the work table he'd splintered, Billy held his hands up obediently and watched stoically as Steve wound the rope around his wrists, binding his hands together roughly.

"What's should our safe word be?" Billy teased, smirking as Steve wound another, longer length of rope over the original knot.

"There is no safe word because this isn't a sex thing!" Steve insisted angrily.

Flustered, he sighed irritably as he wound the long part of the rope around Billy's waist, hating how close he had to get in order to make sure the rope was tight enough, though Billy seemed to be enjoying how close he'd gotten. He kept shifting his weight around, trying, it seemed, to get Steve into a more compromising position. Annoyed, but determined to finish, Steve did his best to ignore Billy's constant movement and the disgusting, rotten musk that was wafting off of his person to finish tying him up.

"Why do you fucking stink so goddamn badly?" Steve finally asked with a scowl, repressing the urge to gag as he tied the ropes off into a clumsy knot. He stumbled away from Billy, reaching up to pinch his nostrils shut so he wouldn't have to smell the rot anymore, but the rancid scent seemed to have lodged itself deep into his nose. "You smell like a dead Calvin Klein model or something, holy shit, did you use a whole fucking bottle?"

The amusement Billy had held while taunting Steve left his face. His smirk shrunk into an awkward grimace as he looked away in embarrassment.

"I don't know, alright?" he admitted bitterly. "It doesn't matter how much I bathe, and between that and my eyes I have no idea what the fuck's going on with me."

"What about your eyes?" Steve asked hesitantly, unsure if he really wanted to know the reasoning behind why Billy had insisted on wearing sunglasses all day.

Billy faltered for a moment, hesitating briefly before reaching up and plucking the sunglasses off his face. With both hands bound together, he awkwardly folded the legs against the lenses and tucked them into the collar of his button up. He turned his gaze to Steve, who couldn't help but suck in a slight breath of surprise.

His eyes were so bloodshot they looked ready to start bleeding straight out of the sockets. There were hardly any whites left in the sclera to be seen as Billy winked at him, looking immensely uncomfortable at the way Steve was gaping openly at him.

"Do they- hurt? Or whatever?" Steve asked, unconsciously taking a few steps forward to get a better look. In the dim lighting of the basement, even the blues of Billy's eyes looked reddish.

"What's it to you if they do?" Billy snapped, suddenly irritable. He squared his jaw and looked away, unable to face the amount of concern Steve was showing him.

The worry Steve felt for the both of them in that moment grew stronger as he backed off, letting the matter of the changes in Billy's physicality drop, despite how alarming they were. "If I don't hear anything an hour after the sun goes down, I'll let you out," Steve said abruptly as he walked backwards towards the stairwell, grasping for the hand rail behind him blindly, unsure why he was so reluctant now to let Billy out of his sight. It was what they'd agreed upon earlier, and he said it meaning for it to sound reassuring, but the way Billy's lips twitched made it apparent he didn't interpret it that way.

Billy didn't respond.

"Well, uh, I guess that's it then," Steve said as he bent down, placing his box of chains atop the box of tools Billy had been messing around with before lifting them up together to carry them up and out of their man-made dungeon.

The cellar doors shrieked loudly as they were closed, a high pitched agony that erupted when the metal grinded against itself uncooperatively. Steve didn't mind that so much as he hated the sound the chains made as he wove them through the door handles, reminding him of what he was doing and who he was imprisoning as the steel rattled sharply against the doors. He winced at the commotion, but continued to loop them through the small door handles until no more could be fit between them. He tested their sturdiness by attempting to pull them open, and to his pleasure, they remained shut. The doors were secured; the cellar, as far as he was concerned, was now a suitable prison. All that was left of him now was to play the role of the jailor appropriately.

He stared down at his handiwork for a moment before the cold, blowing winds prompted him to seek shelter. Already a few snowflakes were fluttering out of the sky, flying into his cheeks as he turned away, re-gathering the box of tools in his arms and headed for the door Dustin promised he'd leave a key for.

Searching under the backdoor mat, Steve found the promised key, and true to the rest of Dustin's word, the entire home was empty, save for the cat that chirped a greeting for him from atop the kitchen counter. With a deep intake of breath Steve glanced at his watch, stepped inside, and shut the door behind him, wondering if he really was prepared for the worst. In the trunk of his car his bat waited for him, ready to be put to use just in case shit really did hit the fan, but he found himself questioning if he'd really be able to use it; bludgeoning monsters to death was one thing, but turning it on a boy he knew was only a monster figuratively was something else entirely.

For both his and Billy's sakes, he hoped it wouldn't come to that.

Shrugging out of his thick coat, Steve set it down beside him as he took a seat on the Henderson's couch. He glanced at his watch again, dismayed by the fact that time wasn't progressing as fast as he wished it was and sat in anxious worry about what the rest of the night might have in store.

But at least he was comfortable and warm.

The cellar was not.

It wasn't the cold that Billy minded, so much as it was the anticipation: when would the transformation start? Exactly at sundown? A little before? A little after? Would he actually end up transforming? And why the fuck did the word 'transform' make him so damn uncomfortable? The unknown factors surrounding his circumstances were almost worse than any of the physical symptoms he'd been experiencing as of late, and he'd been experiencing a lot.

Anxiety wasn't something Billy had a lot of experience with, but it was the only thing he could think of that explained why his heart had been beating oddly all day. It was running at a notably higher rate, as though he'd been playing basketball or working out extraneously, and brought on palpitations he wasn't used to dealing with at the elevated speed.

In short he felt terrible. His whole body ached like it was going through puberty again. Both his arms and legs were sore in ways that mimicked the aches that came with growing pains when he'd had them, but he couldn't understand why he would begin to hurt in that way again. He hadn't had the energy to work out in two days despite eating practically anything he could get his hands on, so the soreness in his limbs was unwarranted. Either his body was preparing itself for the coming night, or he was having an incredibly drawn-out heart attack.

Standing at the foot of the stairwell, Billy felt the cold permeating in through the closed opening and moved away to find a better spot to wait. He wanted rub his arms to bring some warmth into them, but couldn't with the way they were bound. Already the ropes were beginning to dig into his wrists, rubbing uncomfortably against his skin as he realized he wasn't actually that cold anyway, despite the frigid weather; his body temperature had been on a steady incline leading up to now, leaving him with a rosy complexion and a near constant fever, the long-term effects of which left him feeling severely disoriented.

He could barely remember meeting up at Steve's house only a few hours ago to carpool to his kid friend's house, riding with the windows down in spite of the severe wind-chill as they went into town to get lunch and buy rope. Even though they'd ridden together, he couldn't remember now if they'd actually talked about anything or not. All he could remember were the low tones of the radio and the resonating throbs of the wind as it swooped in through the open windows, rushing to fill the audial space between them. It was as though his mind had been steeped in a fog, and he couldn't accurately think through it: everything was clouded over, incomprehensible, like waking up the morning after a bender and being unable to remember everything he'd done the night before, but knowing all the same that he'd taken part in some memorable shit.

Would there be pain, he wondered, and would it come on as suddenly as it had to the character in the movie he'd made Steve watch? Even though 'American Werewolf' was just a movie, stories like that had to spawn from some sort of truth, didn't they?

The dim little lightbulb that hung overhead flickered briefly, drawing Billy's attention to it as he took a seat at the work table's bench, wishing his eyes weren't a dry and sore as they were.

Coming from above, he could hear the muffled sounds of a TV show permeating through the cellar's ceiling. He couldn't help but think ill of Steve in that moment, but if their situations had been reversed, he probably would have been doing the same thing; he couldn't fault Harrington for finding a way to pass the time, though he wished he had something similar to do for himself. There was nothing interesting to hold his attention, and time passed at a dreadfully slow rate.

Stretching out on the bench, he laid himself down slowly, mindful of which parts of his back hurt the most, and gazed up at the cement overhead disinterestedly. He listened to the muffled sounds of the distant television, trying to conjure an image in his mind that corresponded with what little dialogue he could hear, but the rapid beating of his heart overpowered the noises coming from the TV. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing in an attempt to lower his heart rate, but it just kept going, pounding in a determined rhythm that seemed to be quickening with each passing minute. A bead of sweat trickled down from his scalp and over his ear as he wondered if the tingling he felt in the tips of his fingers was because of the cold or from the ropes being tied too tight.

He flexed his fingers, opening and closing his hands into a fist to try and bring sensation back into his fingertips, but to no avail. They remained numb, and the cause of which eluded him.

Frowning, Billy stiffly sat up and began to pinch at his skin, belatedly realizing that the numbness was spreading slowly down the lengths of his fingers, a sensation that sent a chill running down the length of his spine.

"Oh," he said. "Oh shit."

The pain, when he finally did begin to feel it, started in his feet. There were still thirty minutes before the sun went down.

Billy licked his lips nervously as he tried to get his boots off, his numb fingers and bound hands fumbling uselessly with the laces as the pain centralized in his toes and grew in sudden intensity. He was no stranger to pain, but this was unlike anything he'd ever felt before: it was sharp and stabbing, with each throb of pain stemming from the bones in his toes, as though they were growing more pointed in an attempt to pierce their way through his skin as they elongated. He could feel them cracking; each joint slowly popping free of itself as the bones began to push themselves forward.

"Oh, shit," he repeated, and could hear the muffled sounds of a laugh track from whatever sitcom Steve had turned on upstairs roaring in delight as he struggled to finally pull his boots off.

The stabbing sensation didn't relent, even once his shoes lay discarded by his feet. He peeled away his socks with shaking hands and stared down at his toes.

They'd turned a bright, beet red and were bulging like they might burst apart, his skin bubbling up around toenails that were already starting to peel off. He couldn't help the whimper as he tentatively felt them, a pain like touching a freshly popped, skinless blister causing him to draw his fingers back.

It was real. It was happening.

Sweating freely now, he reached away from his feet to brush his dampened hair away from his forehead as sweat rolled down the sides of his face. He paused when he felt his hair pull free from his scalp, clinging to the back of his hand stubbornly. Billy stared at the loose, curly strands with a horrified expression and reached up with a shaking hand to grab more. When he pulled, a handful of his hair came away easily, eliciting another whimper from deep within his throat. Disgusted and frightened, he threw his hair away to the floor.

Breathing quickly, he hastily rubbed his hands free of the loose strands in a panic and tried to calm himself. His whole body trembled as he breathed in deeply through his nose, wondering if he should try to call out to Steve to alert him that the worst case scenario was indeed unfolding. Another laugh track from upstairs came through the ceiling as he felt a sharp, sudden stab of pain in his ribs, prompting him to gasp loudly and curl forward over himself. He could actually feel some part of his ribcage shifting inside his torso as he tucked his arms in to his sides. Any lingering thoughts of trying to remain calm left him as he transitioned from panic to full on fear.

He stood up not knowing what he was going to do, but regretted it instantly: as soon as he put weight on his foot, his ankle collapsed in on itself and brought him to the floor. A shout almost came out with his fall, but he managed to internalize the pain as he was used to doing and grit his teeth as his foot essentially broke itself in half.

The central part of his foot that arched snapped without warning. Billy swore loudly and reached for his foot instinctively, wanting to hold the break in place, but he couldn't bear the agony that came with the contact. Warm tears leaked from his eyes, and when his other lateral arch also split in half, he couldn't help but cry out.

From up above, the noises coming from the television ceased. Steve must have heard him and was listening for him now, trying to gauge whether or not he should intervene. Billy clenched his jaw tighter, determined to keep quiet, but gasped loudly when two of his molars gave out under the pressure, snapping to the side and coming loose of his gumline. The copper taste of blood filled his mouth as he spat the teeth out, shuddering uncontrollably when he felt the vertebrae in his spine begin to pop, one by one, pushing up against his skin that was quickly beginning to feel too tight.

Huffing in great breaths of air, he panted heavily as the bones of his tones finally pierced through his skin, causing most of the flesh surrounding them to burst open like little balloons. Blood splattered across the floor in gruesome, miniature arcs and Billy finally, finally became undone. He shrieked, unable to keep silent any longer as new appendages could be seen inside the flayed bits of bloody skin, slowly growing outward, already a part of him.

Warm tears of pain streaked down his face in thick lines as the skin of his feet continued to be ripped apart, making way for more muscle, new flesh. He wiped at his eyes helplessly and thought he could hear Steve's voice distantly calling out his name, asking if everything was alright.

He blinked, his vision blurred by the tears that would not clear away as he pulled himself over to the stairway.

Shaking wildly all over, Billy stretched out on the floor, realizing belatedly that the waistband of his jeans was growing tighter and tighter. Hissing sharply, he cursed himself for not having the foresight to undress himself as he hastily tried to undo his belt. A pain similar to the initial agony he'd felt in his toes was beginning to manifest itself in his fingers as both of his hands slowly began to turn red, swelling up under the bonds of the rope as he fumbled with the buckle, desperately trying to get it to come free.

"Fuck!" he shouted in frustration, his clothing growing ever tighter as his body continued to bloat. He felt like he was being pinched in half with his belt acting as an unneeded tourniquet. "Fuck! Fuck!"

"Hey! Talk to me Hargrove, what's going on?"

Steve's worried voice trilled down through the cellar doors as he continued vocalizing his frustrations. Billy felt an organ in his abdomen shift out of place before popping, prompting him to groan and curl in on himself before he threw up. His couldn't undo his belt as his vision began to darken.

"Hargrove!" Steve shouted, banging a fist against the steel door. "What the hell's going on? Talk to me!"

"Fuck you!" Billy screamed, unable to articulate anything else as he tried to rub the blackness out of his eyes, but the more he pressed his fingers to them, they more they began to hurt.

A pressure was building up behind them the more he rubbed, and as it increased, his vision grew ever darker. He kept blinking, over and over, feeling his eyes bulge out of their sockets and against his eyelids, trying now to keep his eyeballs in place. He was hyperventilating when he finally went blind, the pressure behind his eyes becoming intolerable eyes before it finally came too much, and his eyes popped free.

He felt them slide out onto over his checks and onto the floor, the slimy, blood-slick nerves leaving tracks of blood on his face as he became totally and completely blind.

"No," he whispered to himself, retching again on the floor as he scrambled across the cement, trying to find the stairs, unable to see. "No, no! This isn't real!"

Beyond the cellar doors, Steve had his ear pressed against the slight crack between the panels, desperately trying to understand what was going on. He wasn't sure what to make of the noises he was hearing, unable to determine if Billy was just trying to mess with him or if he was in actual distress.

"Hargrove," he said impatiently, turning his head to try and peak in through the crack to get a glimpse of what was going on, "you gotta start talking to me, man; what the hell's going on down there?"

"I'm fucking blind," he heard Billy shout, his voice rife with fear. "I can't see anything!"

His voice was shaking as he spoke, and Steve knew then that whatever was happening was legitimate; Billy wasn't one to openly show weakness.

"Okay, stay calm," Steve stammered, but he wasn't sure if that was actually sound advice or not. "It's- it's going to be okay, okay?"

Billy howled, and Steve understood that the pain that carried with his voice must have been terrible to get him to shriek like that. He licked his lips anxiously, not knowing what support he could possibly offer him. He continuously opened and shut his mouth, words of encouragement dying on his tongue before he could manage to speak them.

And then, all at once, the cacophony of agony ceased.

Steve couldn't hear anything over the rapid sound of his breathing for a moment before he finally spoke: "Hargrove? Is… are you okay?"

"Hurts." Billy's voice, quiet, strained, and barely audible over the sounds of things (flesh, fabric) slowly tearing, sounded disconcertingly like he was speaking with a throat full of water. It was gargling and grotesque; completely unlike the smooth, honeyed voice he'd become known for.

"Okay, what, uh, what… what hurts?" Steve whispered in response, fear quieting his previously urgent tone.

"Everything."

"Shit," Steve said to himself, backing away from the cellar door panels as the sounds of something large and heavy being knocked over made him jump. "Just, uh, stay calm," he said, though he wasn't sure if he was saying it to himself or Billy. From down below, he heard Billy groan loudly before going silent again.

Steve's heart was pounding as he hesitated, unsure of what to do. All the details of Billy's haphazardly concocted plan fled his mind as he tried to think back on what they'd agreed to do if something ended up happening, and his first instinct was to open the doors to go down and check on him. He looked at the chains wrapped tightly around the door handles and bit his lip before crouching down and pressing his eye to the crack.

The overhead light wasn't bright enough to reveal much, but at the base of the stairwell there was a small circle of illumination. Steve squinted, ignoring the cold of the steel as he pressed his face against the door, trying to see all that he could.

Blood stains. Torn bits of… something he couldn't quite make out. Dark masses on the stairwell; lots of evidence that pointed towards Billy transforming, but no trace of Billy himself.

"Hargrove," Steve whispered, and then shook his head to clear himself of his cowardice. "Hargrove," he said again, louder and with more emphasis, "dude, you have to talk me through what's happening down there."

He waited, unconsciously holding his breath as he waited for a reply. It was steadily growing darker as the sun slowly sank, making it all the harder to see into the cellar from the tiny slit. Frowning and unable to see anything, Steve turned his head and pressed his ear against the door. From somewhere in the depths of the cellar he could hear something breathing heavily. It was moving, too; he could hear something shuffling, moving around the floor space cautiously.

When he turned his head again to see through the crack, he caught a glimpse of... something large and hulking cross under the light, tall enough to set the lightbulb swinging. He couldn't help but suck in a sharp breath of air, his lungs and throat burning with the sting of the cold weather. The thing- whatever Billy had become- halted just outside the rim of light. Entranced, Steve found he couldn't move as it emitted a low, threatening growl that sounded more like a man impersonating a dog than an actual beast.

From his limited viewpoint, he couldn't see the way the muscles in its legs were tightening, or how it had begun to crouch; he didn't have time to react as it sprang forward, jumping up the stairs in a single leap to ram itself against the doors.

The chains held the doors shut, but the sudden impact smashed the metal against Steve's nose and soon all he could smell was blood as it drained out of his nostrils. He fell backwards, holding his nose as the Billy-creature growled again. Horrified, Steve could only sit in the snow and watch as the doors lurched forward when Billy rammed against them again, trying to escape. The second impact loosened the restraints, and all Steve could do in that moment was watch as they rattled uselessly in place, beginning to slip through the handles as they hadn't been properly locked into place.

Cursing to himself, staggered to his feet and rushed to grab the chains, but as Billy threw his body against the doors again it soon became obvious that even if the doors stayed shut, they were about to pop free of their hinges entirely. Blood dripped down over his lips and onto the metal panels as he tried to think of what he could possibly do to counteract the damage Billy had done. In an act of desperation, he threw himself against the steel and hoped that his added bodyweight would be enough to keep them in place.

If it managed to do anything, he couldn't tell. Almost immediately Billy was throwing himself against the doors again, nearly bucking Steve off.

"Stop!" Steve cried out, grasping for the chains to hold them in place. His fingers scrabbled against the cold steel links even as Billy let out another deep, throaty growl. With the doors as loose as they were, Steve was almost certain the doors wouldn't survive another body-slam. "Give it up, Hargrove!" Steve said again, desperately. "Just- fuck, Billy, stop!"

He braced himself for another impact, but it never came. Eyes closed in anticipation, Steve blinked them open and exhaled shakily, his fingers trembling as he let the chains go. Crystalized air puffed out in front of his face over and over as he rolled off the doors and stood up unsteadily, trying to wipe away the blood that had already frozen over and turned to crust on his upper lip. Somehow, miraculously, his pleading had worked, but before he could take comfort in that fact, other disturbing sounds began to creep back up to him from down below.

Things were being tossed around; the metallic clang of old paint cans being bounced off the floors and walls mixed with the hoarse, angry vocalizations of the creature Billy had become made his blood run colder than the air currently was. The noises Billy was making were at once both animalistic and human, deep and throaty and more akin to the bellows of a moose than a man or wolf.

Steve stood in front of the cellar doors not knowing what to do. Already their plan was falling apart, and he was quickly becoming aware of how vastly unprepared he was to handle the situation. He wanted the security of the bat in his trunk, but didn't trust himself to leave the doors unattended for the length of time it would take him to run back inside and grab his keys to get it, but he felt so weak without it.

Another loud, crashing noise came from within and Steve stilled, listening intently. Faintly, he could hear Billy snuffling about, and after the sun finally completely descended, all was quiet. His nose was throbbing as he stood attentively, but when nothing more could be heard, his stomach sank.

With trembling hands and his mind screaming at him to stop, he knelt by the doors and slowly unwound the chains from the handles. The fact that he couldn't hear anything coming from within didn't sit well with him; he had to make sure Billy was still down there.

He tried to shift the chains as quietly as possible, but with how nervous he was, he had a hard time keeping his hands steady. They rattled noisily against the door, grating on his already frazzled nerves as they slid free. Heart pounding madly, Steve carefully pulled the doors open and took the first step down into the cellar.

It was silent. He couldn't hear anything as he hesitantly took a second step, mentally berating himself over and over for being stupid enough to walk defenseless into the lion's mouth. He had no idea what Billy was capable of now, or if he'd even recognize him enough to (hopefully) have enough sense to not harm him. The lightbulb that dangled freely from the ceiling was swaying, throwing its light around erratically, showing him glimpses of the gore that lined the steps.

Eyes wide, Steve gagged at the sight of the flayed strips of bloodied skin that were splattered near everywhere. He had to avert his eyes as he took another step, making slow progress as he was careful not to step in any of the mess. At the bottom of the stairs he warily peered around the walls, hoping he'd only stuck his head into the lion's mouth figuratively. To his immediate relief, but long-term dismay, there was no trace of Billy to be seen in the space of the cellar.

Exhaling deeply, Steve tried to even out his breathing as he came to stand in the middle of the room, looking around to assess the damage. As the swinging lightbulb steadied, he turned towards where the shelf that was hiding the tunnel had been and found it on the ground, knocked to its side and several feet away from where it had originally been positioned. His shoulders drooped at the realization of Billy's escape.

He went and stood before the opening of the tunnel and felt all hope of remedying the situation vanish. A numbness overtook him as he recognized his responsibilities of keeping Billy captive had changed; he was the only one who knew about Billy's circumstances, and he was the only one who could do anything about it now. Distantly, and much further away then he would've liked, he could hear the muted, labored sounds of Billy's breathing as he escaped confinement through the underground system.

The burden of his responsibilities threatened to overwhelm him in that instant, but instead of letting himself be overtaken by despair, Steve took a deep, steadying breath and rolled his shoulders back. He hesitated for only a minute before he took charge and ran in after him, disregarding his urgent need to turn back and get his bat out of the car. There was no time, he thought; no time to get a weapon, no time to get a flashlight. If Billy was now as the werewolf in the woods was, then he was capable of speeds greater than Steve could muster, and every second mattered. If he lost his trail now, then it would be lost to him entirely. There was no time; he had to go now or he wouldn't go at all.

Alone and unarmed Steve ran, chasing after Billy into the dark, cold tunnel, hoping he would be able to catch him in time, and dreading the repercussions that would come if he couldn't.

[melanoradrood]

WIP Wednesday

So this is from my Nanowrimo fic, which is the soulmates AU, which is a rewrite of Rogue One, more or less, with Cassian and Jyn as soulmates ( spoiler alert? ). Anyways, I’m pretty sure I have a title locked down, but I’m not going to start posting this fic on AO3 until I get probably another chapter done, just because the chapters are so meaty, BUT, take this little bit from the middle of Chapter 1. Chapter 1 covers Lah’Mu, Kafrene, and Wobani, btw...

Enjoy.

She pretends that her parents are here with them, her father writing away with what little light they have, her mother fixing the hole in Jyn’s leggings. She imagines her doll with her, and imagines that the rocks around her are actually sky, showing the stars.

She closes her eyes, and she tells herself the constellations, as if she can see them. She whispers them to herself, and pretends like someone, maybe even her soulmate, can hear her.

She’s so cold, so wet in this place. A storm has been brewing overhead, and despite the fact that she is within a cave, underground, the water runs, and it drips, drips onto her skin, onto her cot, onto her clothes. The longer she remains wet, the colder she gets, and she shivers, trying to hide under every blanket. The weather only gets worse, and the darkness never seems to stop.

Three days, three long days, and then, the hatch opens above her head. She recognizes the face immediately - he’s a friendly one, but she gives no response, save to climb up the ladder, her bag on her back. He does not look surprised to see that she is alone, and when she climbs out of the hole, they close the cover, although no one will be seeking shelter there again.

There’s a ship, with three big men with him, waiting at the mouth of the cave. They all look her over, tiny thing that she is, but she lifts her chin, raising herself up with all of the strength of her mother. Her mother never let anyone look down at her, and they give her a nod before she turns and looks at the one that came for her, Saw.

“They shot her,” she says, and there’s sadness in the man’s eyes. Pity, perhaps… or maybe understanding.

“And your father?”

She shakes her head - she doesn’t know the answer to that, not for fact, but she knows what she suspects. They wanted him - wanted his research, wanted his work. They would take him alive, if they could, and her father was not one to fight. He was likely still alive.

“How did you get away?” he asks, and her eyes go wide with surprise - she had done as told, had run when told, so how- “Your face, were you struck?”

She touches at her eye, where he gestures, then lets out another shake of her head. There’s no pain there, but she can imagine what it is - her soulmate. They must have gotten into another fight.

“My... “ She shows him her hands, where the knuckles are scraped and bruised. Saw gives her a nod, then sets a hand on her shoulder, leading her to the ship.

“My Papa… he’ll have a scar, where they shot her, won’t he?”

Saw is quiet for a long moment as they walk up the ramp, and he settles her into a seat in the back, sliding her bag under the chair. He then kneels in front of her, taking her hands in his.

“Most likely, yes. A mark where she was shot, to show the pain within his soul.”

“Will the mark hurt?” she asks, and it feels like a stupid question, but her father had reared back from what looked like pain when her mama was struck.

“The soul is what aches,” Saw answers wisely, as though he has known that pain, has felt that loss. “The wound is only a sign of the part of him that is now broken.”

Jyn nods, then looks down at her knuckles, scraped and marked.

“I never want to meet my soulmate. They make you do stupid things…”

She doesn’t want to think that her mama was stupid, not when she was so brave. Perhaps, if her mama had struck down the man in white, the troopers might have left her papa alone… but how could her mama think that she might fight against all of those fighters and lived? Her mama had fought for nothing, and now she was dead.

“My child… you will meet them one day, and you will only feel complete with them. It is a gift from the Force, one which you cannot fight… you are young, still, and we can talk on it later. Close your eyes and rest.”

She nods, sniffling a little, and Jyn realizes then that she’s crying, tears running down her cheeks. She was supposed to be brave, and here she was crying. Her hand runs under her eyes, brushing them away, and then her hand goes to her neck, to her mama’s necklace.

Her necklace, now.

Her eyes go towards the viewport, and as they take off from the planet, she can see in the distance that her house is now a ruins. There’s nothing left on Lah’mu, it seems. Nothing but ash, and dirt, and tears.

Her eyes close after a long moment, and she tries to wash it all away, to forget everything, to forget the past. She cannot change what has happened to her…

Ash… dirt… tears… and memories…

Dirt… sweat… tears…

Running… dripping…

Her eyes fly open, and for half a second, Jyn thinks she might be back in that cave, deep underground. Her next thought is that someone has come for her, and that this time, it’s not a friend. When she sits up, though, and realizes that the wetness on her skin is from the dripping ceiling, and that she’s no longer on Lah’mu…

Her hand reaches out to grab the rag she had left drying in the small space that is hers. It’s damp, but it’s better than letting whatever liquid drips from the floor above remain on her skin. Her eyes flick over towards her cellmate, still sleeping.

A guard walks by, but Jyn knows that it’s the middle of the night, and that it’s only memories, memories that haunt her, memories of a lifetime ago, of a girl that no longer exists. Her mama is long dead, her papa is long gone, and Saw had abandoned her, left her behind.

Everyone left her behind, everyone save for…

She looks down at her hand, sees a familiar bite on it, the bite from a blaster, used in close range, as a pistol. Sometimes, whoever her soulmate is, they grip the blaster too tight, the firing catching back on tender skin. There hasn’t been a mark in some time…

They recently shot someone. She tries to not concentrate on that too hard.

Her gaze goes out of the cell, and she tries to clear her mind. Her parents, Saw, her soulmate… none of them matter. All that matters is that she has been caught, captured by the Empire. They do not know her true name, but she knows that the name Erso means something to the empire.

If they find out her real name, find out who she really is…

A prison camp on Wobani will be the least of her worries.

For the first time in her life, Jyn is caught, trapped. There’s no way out, there’s no backup plan, no rescue crew. She’s alone. Entirely alone. And no one is coming to save her.

...

There’s a hunger deep within him, but it is not his own. Cassian has to ignore it as he moves through the busy crowd, glancing down at his hands, checking that his gloves are in place. It wouldn’t do for someone, a stormtrooper, to see the dark ring around his wrists. Granted, those marks were also not his own, but then they would ask for scandocs, and well… better to get in and out, without being spotted.

The stink in the air is nearly unbearable, but he’ll be off this piece of junk soon, heading back towards Base, or wherever the intel takes him. He hopes that Tivik is good on his word, because he keeps hitting dead ends. Jedha, though… Jedha is overrun with the presence of the Empire, and for no valid reason. Something is happening on Jedha. He just needs to find out what.

The smell of food makes him feel ill, and he knows he has eaten enough to sustain him recently, but it doesn’t help when he still feels hunger. His thoughts wander for a moment, where are they, that they’re so hungry, that they’re kept in shackles - no. No, he doesn’t have time for thoughts such as that. Things like soulmates… they have no place in a war. Those are for dreamers and fools. Nothing more.

His gaze flicks down the main street as Cassian reaches the alley where they agreed to meet, and he sees no troopers facing towards him - not that a man going down an alley is much concern, but he wants to be aware, wants to know if any are following him. He had been careful, as always, but… well, it was his job to be careful, to aware. He was good at what he did, the best, in fact.

You had to be the best, otherwise, you ended up dead.

The man is where he said he would be, and Cassian tries to put on an easy smile. There’s stress written on Tivik’s face, a sign that the intel, it has to be good. No one gets nervous sharing details about nothing.

His gaze goes back towards where he came from, and no eyes search him out. Stepping forward, he hopes that they will be out of the way… away from interruptions.

“I was about to leave,” Tivik says, and Cassian can only shrug, the grin tightening.

“I came as fast as I could.” And he had. He had had to dodge patrols to get there, but he had half run, when able. The news had to be good, the intel worth it - it was worth running there for. He pulls off his gloves, trying to get relaxed, to slow the man down, and he shoves them into his jacket pocket, out of the way. His wrists burn, but he ignores them.

[the-writer-ofthe-fandoms]

Gift of Sight (Lucifer Morningstar)

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar/Reader Words: 1.7k+ Warning(s): None A/N: OOF i am back everyone! kind of. ill try and write more today ^^ I hope you enjoy! The ending is bleh btw im sorry  Request:�� Can I request a Lucifer Morningstar x reader? The reader has a gift of sight and she can see his true form even when he looks human to other people? He's surprised she isn't afraid but she's more turned on than anything. He falls for her easily since she isn't afraid of who he really is.

   You checked over your appearance one last time in your mirror before you left your new apartment in Los Angeles. You had recently moved to L.A. from your hometown due to a job transfer. You were a crime scene photographer for your hometowns police and the LAPD needed a new one, so they offered you a well-paying job and you accepted. Your whole body buzzed with excitement and nervousness for your first day.

   "Can't forget my camera on the first day!" You said to yourself. You grabbed the black case and made sure to check that our camera was there before you left out the door. You took an Uber to the LAPD and arrived ten minutes early, just as you planned.  You wanted to get to know some of your co-workers and to get a tour of the building.

   As you walked up the steps to the precinct, you notice a very beautiful woman walk out of the building. She had long black hair with tan skin, which complimented her dark outfit quiet well. You made eye contact with her and for a few seconds, her face shifted into something else. Half of her face was still the same, but the other side was like it was burned or rotted away, leaving grey and black skin. Her once dark eye looked clouded with a yellow tinted white.

   She stared at you as you both walked past each other, she stared too. The woman's face was pure shock before and you decided best to just look away and keep walking forward to the building. Whatever you just saw was strange, but you tried your best to just let whatever happen go. You needed a clear head for your first day.

-

   You've been at the LAPD for two hours and you were already having a blast. You were spending most your time with Ella Lopez, the forensic scientist for the LAPD. She is very outgoing and made sure you felt at home; even giving you a tour of her lab. Currently, you both were in the lab as she told you about all her close friends who work alongside with her.

   "Chloe Decker and Lucifer Morningstar are like the top team here." She explained, "They work well together but Lucifer can get a bit... arrogant? Yeah that can work for him. But he is still a good guy nonetheless. Chloe is great too. She's a good worker and an awesome friend."

   "I can't wait to meet them." You smile with excitement.  

   "Oh, I can't forget about Dan Espinoza! He's a really sweet guy and a good detective, despite his past."

    Ella told you more about people in the station, and some of the gossip too, just to keep you in the loop. As she told you the relationship theories between one of the officers and the janitor staff, she dropped her story mid story and dragged you out to the main floor, towards two people at a desk.

   "Lucifer! Chloe! Meet our new crime scene photographer!" Ella smiled as she called out. The man and woman turned around and smiled as well. Your eyes went to the blonde woman first, she had a kind look and presence about her.  

   "Hello, I'm Chloe." She greeted, shaking your hand.

   "I'm (Y/N). I can't wait to work with you." You responded.

   "Hello, darling." The man's British voice pulled your attention away from Decker. You looked to the tall, handsome man. But once your (e/c) eyes met his dark eyes, his face became distorted. You were taken back his face, it was red and marred, his eyes were sunken in while their color was a blood red. You gulped and broke eye contact with him, his face was back to normal. From the look of his face Lucifer was also taken back as well.

   "Well, I should probably get you more familiar with the lab, (Y/N)." Ella pulled you away, back into the lab room. "What was that?"

   "Did... Did you see that?" You stuttered, wondering if she too could see what you had just saw.

   "Yeah, you and Lucifer were making googly eyes at each other! Like you were having a rom-con 'love at first glance' moment." Ella exclaimed with a grin on her face. "Oh my gosh you guys are soulmates!"

   "What? No! It's just," You paused for a second, wondering if you should tell her wat you had saw a few moments ago, "He looks a lot like someone I know back where I used to live, I thought he might've been that person."

   "Oh, uh huh..." She smirked but thankfully she dropped the subject and went on to showing you the lab.

--

   You through your keys on the corner table and closed your apartment door. Despite it being an easyi-sh day, you still were tired after all you learned. You put your bag down and immediately put on pajama bottoms for some comfort before going to the kitchen. Right as you were about to make yourself some food, there was a knock on your door. Your head fell back and you groaned but went to answer the door anyways. To your surprise, Lucifer Morningstar was standing in front of you.

   "Oh hey, Lucifer... How did you find where I lived?" You asked, a little cautious since he hardly know him, and because of what you saw.

   "Easy, the police data base." He smiled, but you can tell by his body language he was nervous.  

   "Why are you here, may I ask?"

   "It's best if we talk sitting down... Can I come in?" He asked. You nodded and invited him, watching him carefully as he strutted towards your couch.

   "Would you like something to drink?"

   "No thank you dear." You joined him on the couch, he was squirming and fidgeting. "Well, I'll just right to the point: you can see my devil face."

   "That's what you call it? A devil face?" You didn’t mean to giggle, but it was a funny way to describe it. "Wait was that woman I saw in front of the L.A.P.D. a demon?"

   "Mazikeen? Kind of scary looking, wears a lot of leather, half her face gone?" You nod, his description of her was exact. "So how can you see us both? I mean, how can you see our faces? How does it work? How-"

   "Whoa whoa, Lucifer. I don’t know anything, I didn't even know I could see your true faces until today!"

   "You have to come to my apartment tomorrow, to test how much you can see. Starting with my angel of a brother!" He exclaimed. "I cannot believe I found a human who can see my devil face, this is amazing!"

   "So, I guess demons and angels are real..."

   "Sorry if seeing my face is frightening or off putting. I know for you humans it can be a lot to take in."

   "No, no! You don't scare me. I was startled at first, but it isn't so bad. I bet you’re a real sweet guy...devil?"

   "Do you really mean that, (Y/N)?"

   "Of course, Lucifer. Can't judge a book by its cover, right?" You smiled sweetly while he stared with his mouth open. "Would you like to stay the night? Just to chat and figure out my whole seeing thing."

   "I would love to darling."

--

   It has been a month since your first day at the L.A.P.D. and to say you and Lucifer were close was an understatement.  You two were attached to the hip. He would hardly ever leave your side and grew extremely protective of you; even Mazikeen and Amenadiel grew close and protective of you. Chloe and Ella were you closest friends and Dan become a brother to you, you quickly grew your own little family here in Los Angeles. Lucifer even introduced you to his therapist, who connected with you due to you both have seen his real face.

   You were currently at a diner near Lucifers apartment with him in tow. He and you were getting breakfast before work. He sat across from you, enjoying a traditional American breakfast, while you enjoyed (food of choice). You picked up on his nervous behavior and notice his face seemed to flash in-between human and Devil to you, a thing you noticed when he felt anxious.

   "Is everything alright, Luci?" You asked, using the nickname you picked up from Amenadiel. "You are more fidgety than usual."

   "Oh yes of course! Of course, dear." He replied to quickly, taking a bite out of his food.

   "You know I can tell you are lying, your face is flickering."

   "I guess I need to get this off my chest." Lucifer wiped the corners of his mouth with a napkin and cleared his throat, before he stared directly into your eyes. "You are... the first human to see my face without me purposely showing it to you, and you fully accepted me for me. You always support me but you are never afraid to speak up if I do something truly stupid. I guess what I am attempting to tell you, dear... Is I really... Oh hell!"

   Next thing you knew is Lucifer slid out from his side and was immediately at your side, his soft lips were on yours. One of his hands was placed on your jaw, while this thumb gently brush against your warm cheeks. You were in shock, but it was good shock. Immediately you melted into the kiss, reciprocating while your hand rested on one of his shoulders.

   "Lucifer..." You say over a whisper, a smile slowly growing on your face as you broke apart from him.

   "I'm quite smitten with you, dear. Ever since you invited me to stay the night at your apartment, I've fallen hard for you."

   "I can say the same for myself. I've grown to really like you as well." You both smiled. Lucifer pulled his plate over next to you and sat down, pulling you to is side with his arm around your shoulders. HE sat confidently, but had a charming smile on his face, not his usual smirk.

   "Eat up dear, we are going on a date day."

   "But what about work?"

   "I'll pull some strings, today is a day for you and me, darling."