#messing around with plant powers for my original work

[marginal-notes]

more thoughts about mokuton and founder era nonsense aka how bizarre can we make this plant matter, to the point that it's barely plant matter anymore? if you have fine chakra control and can sense things down to the cellular level (as sort of implied by advanced healing), can you start tinkering around with the wood to the cellular level? make it stronger, straighter, lighter, more fire resistant, etc. by nudging things around?

can you mess with the layout of the wood cells into a stronger lattice framework that's more impact resistant and is better at blocking attacks while staying lighter/thinner?

can you create wood optimized for ship building that has built in protections against salt and damp?

anyways, this is all to say, craving that Senju brother pre-founding hijinks of Tobirama dragging Hashirama around to test the hell out of mokuton for fun and profit. if you're gonna fling around this jutsu to create buildings, you better do it right by making it fire and storm resistant, along with secure and keeping out pests. building konoha only goes as well as it does thanks to years of Tobirama already shanghaiing Hashirama into trying different grain storage and safe house construction attempts. also what do you think funded at least a quarter of the Senju war effort and later the village? built in monopoly of specialty mokuton only wood, right there.

[ranticore]

Unreleased Setting Friday

ages ago i posted One picture of Limes, my alien character, on main without context. Limes comes from a sci-fi setting I was messing with for a while in early 2023/late 2022

They are photosynthetic "mimic" aliens who change shape from a base body plan over only a few generations to match the organisms around them - it was originally based off of that plant that "sees" its immediate neighbours and grows similar leaves to blend in :) limes was born in the Amazon to a small established group of its species that had mostly mimicked new world monkeys and margays

the panels on its back are photosynthetic. the body lacks bones and is operated by a hydrostatic system, with the tail in particular being straight and rodlike by default until warped by hydraulics into a prehensile structure.

These are really old designs now and the top image is actually the most recent hehe

Anyway there's a whole near-future story about the earth-born aliens and humans cooperating to fend off attacks from another faction of the same alien species who are raiding human technology for their power sources and essentially, basically, the entire setup is JUST to justify the presence of living aeroplanes :) as livestock guardian animals who accompany regular air freight and defend them from attacks. The story is about Limes, an engineer of the biomechs, working with a human biologist/behaviourist whose job is to train the livestock guardians to guard the freight.

[solaneceae]

float like a feather, sting like sharp talons

Philza drops by Étoiles' brand new dojo for a friendly sparring session, and ends up getting quite a lot more. Namely existential dread, the thrill of a good hunt, and the comfort of shared trust. @apthotiosis this is a commissioned fic! read on ao3

He whistles, eyes lingering along the thick, wooden support beams and rice paper walls surrounding him. It’s a surprising sight, tucked away in a corner of what he can only describe as a mess of a base, mostly empty, the walls still a rough (and frankly ugly) mix of dirt and cobblestone that hasn’t been cleared out even after six months. “So. That is your dojo.”

Étoiles nods at his side, a big stupid grin on his face. “Do you like it, Phil?” he asks, eager as a pup as little Pomme zooms around the cave in an improv game of tag with Tallulah — ever mindful of how her lag (sorry, asthma) sometimes stalls her in her tracks. He glances at them fondly, silly, eggs, babies. “I do,” he hums, because it is pretty. Especially if you ignore the rest of the cave outside because God, it’s fugly as shit and Étoiles knows it. The plant hybrid smiles, all teeth and gums, and squints with star-filled eyes that always seem to glow despite not working like they used to. Phil still doesn’t get why what was originally a completely harmless veggie plant has evolved to bear such predatory teeth, but he can’t say it doesn’t suit his friend. “He likes it! Let’s gooo, big win for me, big win. I can die happy now.”

“Oh my god, stop. Kristin’s married, you know.”

Étoiles gives him a mock-shove that is more of a real one, because Étoiles never holds back, especially not with Phil. “Oh! Oh, so I can’t be nice to Lady Death? I can’t just visit her because she’s cool and she likes me also? I am married to the grind, Phil, you know me!”

Phil shakes his head, exasperated and fond. “You’re a nerd is what you are. Did you know she calls you her tech support?” Étoiles makes a confused noise. Tallulah peeps in the background, mimicked by Pomme, a chorus of play and yesyes, because all the eggs have picked up on that one by now. (Mimicry is a powerful thing, and the eggs are highly social creatures who thrive on it.)

Phil elaborates, circling the build to assess its structure better. “Because of the sweeping edge bug thing, and Richas’ cancelled death last week. You find the kinks and loopholes in death mechanics better than anyone she knows.”

Étoile beams at that. “That’s so cool. I’m Death tech support!”

“You certainly are. Do you think it’s because you picked Death? In the entity rooms?”

The green-skinned man shrugs, then gasps and takes off running after Pomme to stop her from setting up waterframes everywhere to display obscure anime edits for Tallulah because her internet, her lag Pomme, you’re going to make her void! Phil glances at them (safe, no danger, good) then back at the dojo, running his palm down a beam to feel its grain. It’s smooth, recently stripped of its bark. “Huh,” he says.

He doesn’t understand why his friend chose to build this underground when dojos are usually suited for wind-swept plains or mysterious forests. Then again, Étoiles has never been much for coherent aesthetics. That, and he probably thought it would be more mysterious to hide it under the ground, knowing him. “It’s. Well, very dojo-like,” he walks through dark support beams and onto clean, recently-oiled planks, coming to poke at one of the wooden sticks idly rotating above an altar to send it spinning in the opposite direction. Étoiles trots back to him with an egg under each arm (Play, dad, Pomme warbles. Play, silly, Tallulah beeps from within her cracked shell.) and lets out a guttural noise, visibly bothered by the sticks being out of sync, and it makes Phil snort. Silly. Silly. “Did you build it all by yourself?”

“Yeeaaaah.”

“You’re lying.”

A dramatic gasp. The warrior puts both eggs down to throw his hands in the air. “I’m not lying! Pomme, ma légende, dis-lui.”

Bomp. [me and richas did it. papa helped, very much :DDD]

Étoiles comes to brush his fingers against the red sign, letting the device tucked into his ear translate the written words into spoken ones. He whines, puts a hand over his heart as his ears droop. “Ahhh, trahison. Disgrâce. Tu m’détestes en fait Pomme, c’est ça ? You want me to dig down to bedrock and die forever? Or it’s because I can’t see, so you think I’m shit?”

Bomp. [papa…] Bomp. [t’a pas besoin d’être aveugle pour avoir des goûts douteux en déco :X]

“Okay, okay. I go die in fire then, goodnight.” Then Étoiles pours lava into the cobble floor and stands in it with a huge smile. His body catches on fire immediately, skin quickly shrivelling up and blackening under the heat. Pomme peeps at him loudly and hits him with her scythe, then douses him in water and healing potions — which immediately prompts Étoiles into sparring mode, laughing and hyping his egg up with a string of ‘oh she knows, she knows the play’ and ‘strafing, comboing, keep at it’ as his body heals up. Philza watches the display for a few seconds before getting bored, choosing to walk past the layer of light wood circling the dojo to take a look inside.

It’s even prettier than the outside, with all the paper lanterns and little fountains and bamboo shoots. His geta clack against the wood, then go silent on the woven straw flooring at the center. “Why’re all the posters in Japanese?” he remarks when his friend comes back from his little mock-tantrum with his daughter in tow, squinting at a crude montage explaining the belts system. Philza can gather that it’s based on how much HP the dojo master has left after a duel, because Étoiles has been yapping about making a dojo with that exact system for months now. (Is that a jar of mayo at the top? The hell?) Guess the eggs returning has been the push in motivation he needed to actually commit to that build, despite his insistence that he is very much a builder now, thank you very much, look at all the wool I have.

Étoiles perks up, grins in a way that lets Phil know he’s about to do a bit. “Oh, you don’t know? You don’t know that I’m literally Japanese, Philza?” he chirps, picking up one of the sticks on display before running circles around the other man, poking at his legs playfully. His boots are off, Phil notices. “Speaking of! Shoes off Phil, come on, come on!”

“You literally told me you grew in a field, mate,” Phil laughs, airy and wheezy and light as he evades the attacks. “The little legume who could! In rural France! Where does Japan come into play here?”

“Aaaah, Philza, Philza,” the warrior shakes his head, hitting the other on the shoulder to push him back out and onto the cold cobble floor. “Shoes off I said, it’s a rule. I don’t want shit on my tatami, I already had to clean it up sooo many times with the whole server fucking around in it yesterday. And Japan lives in my warrior’s soul. It’s all that matters.”

“F’course it does,” Phil complies regardless, shimming out of his geta before walking to the little shoe rack in the corner to tuck them inside. “There. Happy?”

“Very. Also, trivia time, culture time: did you know that cucumbers aren’t legumes? They are fruits, Phil! And vegetables don’t actually exist, they’re all either fruits or roots or leaves or flowers...”

Phil stares at him. “...You don’t get to stand there and tell me my avocados are fruits, Étoiles. What the fuck.”

“Umm, they are berries, actually—”

“Oh fuck off and come kill me already.”

“With pleasure, my bro.”

 

Armors come off next, quickly magicked back into inventories. Phil walks up to the altars to pick up his own stick (unenchanted, as plain as it gets) and spots Étoiles off to the side, rolling up his sleeve to check on his insulin levels before rolling it back down. “We eat one gapple each, yes? My sugar is low,” he explains as they both get into position on both ends of the tatami.

“Sounds good. You got yours?”

Étoiles laughs, summoning a golden fruit from his inventory and spinning it over his finger like the insufferable showoff he is. “Always. Autofeed off Phil, no cheating.”

“Alright, you little shit,” Phil summons his own gapple and bites into it with purpose, feeling the warm tingle of magic-saturation in his stomach as the rest of the apple vanishes into thin air with a few golden sparkles. He turns to the eggs, settled on top of diamond blocks they’ve just placed. “Tallulah, do a countdown for us please?”

Signs are placed, one by one, as Pomme hypes them up with Megalovania, perfectly timed with the Pigstep now blasting out of a music box. Bomp, three. Bomp, two. Bomp, one…

Bomp. [GO PAPA PHIL :D]

Étoiles shoots off towards him as soon as the letters show up on the wood, jumping up and swinging his stick down for a crit. Phil dashes to the side, the blow just grazing his shoulder. “Nice cock, Phil!” Étoiles gasps, all sharp teeth and waggling eyebrows, and it takes the avian back enough for the other to get a few hits in. “Motherfucker!” Phil laughs, breaking the combo and pushing the cucumber back with a few crits of his own, adrenaline starting to flood his brain and paint the world in sharp edges and colors. “You little shit! Stop doing that!”

“Do what, Philza? I’m just bantering, just chilling.”

Étoiles’ combat style hasn’t changed despite the blindness, Phil finds — he’s insanely precise and quick on his feet, which is a problem. He decides he won’t be able to outrun or out-speed him, so he elects to block most of his strikes with his own stick instead, relying more on instinct than observation. “He’s blocking, he’s blocking,” the warrior’s voice chants through the flurry of swings and the clack of wood against wood. “Strafing, strafing, he’s the best, he’s the GOAT. Hit me, Phil! Don’t just defend, hit me!”

And dammit, Phil tries pretty hard — but Étoiles is insane and he’s just a little too fast even without speedbridging, just a little too smart with his feints. Phil goes down after two minutes, the last hit clocking him across the temple and sending him to the (thankfully a little soft) floor, ears ringing and white stars dancing across his darkening vision. He wonders if it’s a little like how Étoiles sees the world now. Probably not. “Four hearts, Phil,” Étoiles announces, laying his hands on Phil’s side — the pain fades, the world comes back into focus, and his brain rattles with the doom-doom of revival. He hears fireworks going off, probably Pomme’s. “That’s good, very good. That’s a brown belt! I think you can kill me soon, easy. Again?” the cucumber chirps, offering his hand, and Phil thinks that if Étoiles had his tail it would probably be wagging right now.

He groans in agreement, grasps his friend’s hand and is pulled back on his feet. “Yes. Again.”

Round two goes similarly. “Again.” So does round three. “One more.” After his fourth consequential victory, Étoiles looks pensive, and Phil is getting a tad frustrated — he’s muted his comm for this, as he often does, but he can usher a guess at what Global chat looks like, spammed with his half-death messages and maybe a brief bout of concern from whoever else is online at the moment. “Fuck, man,” he rubs at his neck where a particularly vicious strike has left the skin an angry red, molted with purple. He’ll feel that in the morning, if he doesn’t get a respawn. “I don’t think I can do it. No black belt for me.”

“No, no, you can,” Étoiles insists, circling him — dull, greyed out eyes scanning for something. “I think…”

“Looking for something, king? How’s nebula-me looking?”

“Like the GOAT, you know that. But since you ask, you’re more blue today. With some red.”

“Cool. Wish I could see like you do, for a day.”

“You don’t. It’s pretty, but annoying. It’s harder to make out details inside the, ah…” he mumbles something in barely-legible French. “Je sais pas comment on dit. Les contours. The lines at the limits of a drawing.”

“Outlines?”

“Yes. I see the outlines well, but everything inside is messy. To me everything is just, shapes. And the bigger a thing is, the harder it is for me to understand it. Eggs are easy, because they are small and simple. People are harder.” He waves towards Phil. “Like, I can’t know if you’re smiling or frowning, I have to listen to how your voice sounds.”

“Huh. That’s interesting.”

Étoiles hums, stops at his side. Cocks his head like an attentive dog. “Ah. You should take your backpack off, Phil. It’s slowing you down.”

Oh. Philza shifts, hesitant. “I wear it all the time, it doesn’t nerf me that much.”

“No, I think it can make a difference. Let’s try it?”

Mh. He hadn’t planned on doing this today. Showing his kids had felt right, natural. Showing Fit had required a few deep breaths, but not much else. Étoiles… is a trickier case.

He does want to show him — the french warrior is one of his most trusted friends, and someone he knows he can rely on in a pinch. The guy is loyal to a fault, always looking at Phil like all it would take for him to lay down his life before him was a single word. It’s a bit scary, in a way, and always makes his hindbrain buzz pleasantly. But Phil held things like mutual trust in high regard, and Étoiles had broken that on the first day of Purgatory.

They had talked since then, and it’s clear to Phil now that it had been an honest mistake, a temporary lapse in judgement. Plus, it’s not as if Phil hadn’t lost his own mind within the first twenty-four hours in that red hellscape. Still, even though he has forgiven Étoiles, the cracks don’t feel completely healed just yet. “I don’t know, mate,” he pulls at one of the straps of his backpack self-consciously, feeling its weight pressing his wings tightly against his back. “I can’t get you under four hearts, I doubt taking it off will give me that much more.”

“Phil. Phiiiiil. Trust me?”

Tall order, Phil almost jokes, but refrains. “I do trust you.”

“Then trust what I’m saying. I know my shit, you’re being slowed down, you can’t spin as fast or jump as high with this thing, it’s basic physics. I want you to have all the chance on your side.”

Philza purses his lips, glances to where Tallulah sits off to the side. She jumps to her little feet and places down a sign, while Pomme rummages through her backpack next to her. He can’t help but coo when the bright ‘<3’ shows up in stark white against the magenta wood. “Right. Okay.”

Étoiles can’t see, not normally. So maybe he won’t be able to make them out, bound tightly against his back as they are. And if he does, then that is fine. No need to make a fuss of it. So Philza walks up to Tallulah and drops the black pack next to her, giving her a little headpat in passing. “Watch over that for me, okay?” he smiles at her, and she peeps at him with purpose, jumping on top of it and doing the egg equivalent of puffing up her chest. Pomme is in her own red backpack now, little legs kicking the air as she reaches as deep as she can. silly, egg, baby, egg, he croons. “I’ll be right back. Got a green ass to kick.”

 

“He is back,” Étoiles whoops when he steps onto the tatami. “Oh, he is ready, so ready. Are you full hearts?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. We go on three, one, two, th—”

Phil takes off at the first syllable, and oh, yeah, the lack of weight on his back means he can lean forward more without gravity winning, and that means he reaches Étoiles right as he reaches the end of his three. He thrusts his stick forward, the blunt tip digging itself right into the other’s abdomen with enough force to make him stumble back, winded and sputtering. “Argh—”

Phil doesn’t let him recover, getting a few good hits in before his opponent parries and attempts an upward swing that he barely evades by sending his body backwards, dangerously far. The weapon grazes his chin, and his wings try to open to regain balance but they’re still bound against him. “Shit—” he steps back quickly, arms pinwheeling, and it looks a little silly but it works, and he does not crash onto his back like an idiot.

Étoiles stares at him from the other side, breathing hard, eyes wide, a palm against his diaphragm. Then he smiles. “Oh. Ohohooo. Okay, now we’re talking. Let’s go.”

Moving more freely doesn’t make the fight easier, not by a long shot, because Étoiles adapts quickly — but it does make it more fun, and that’s already an improvement in Phil’s eyes. He gets less crits in, because jumping up leaves him too exposed to revenge strikes, but he gets more light hits in between sidesteps and mad dashes. “He is so fast!” Étoiles cheers, ducking to dodge a vicious strike to the head. “Oh, he is so good, go Phil go!”

Run, dodge, strike, strafe, dash. Every muscle in Phil’s body strains to keep up as he pushes it past its limits, arm aching from the repeated shocks against the stick, but he barely feels it thanks to the adrenaline flooding his system. A hit to the back of his knee makes him stumble, but he recovers into a roll and trips Étoiles with his stick in retaliation. The cucumber groans, scrambles to get up, and Phil sees an opening right there on his foes’ unprotected throat. He zeroes in on it, takes the first step, raises his weapon and—

 

There’s a jagged shape in his peripheral vision.

 

He falters. Tries not to look at it, tries to keep his eyes on target, target that’s about to get back up, quick, quick, do it. 

 

There’s a purple shape in his peripheral vision.

 

He fails. Sharp angles and eerie glow, that shade he’s come to dread. The amethyst crystals hum out their ethereal song, taunting him. He doesn’t see Étoiles anymore, and his world is drowning in high-pitched static.

 

Purple. Purple everywhere. The room is too dark, too dark, darker yet darker.

Time slows down. No. The edges of his vision are fraying, dark tendrils creeping in. He feels himself falter, adrenaline making way for cortisol and making his hindbrain, no, fly, fly, run, nonono. He’s losing his footing, his grip around the stick growing slack, palms getting clammy. No, no, not now, please. His breathing picks up, faster than it’s been at any point of this duel. The amethysts glow an eerie violet, jagged shapes growing out of the thick, wooden beams around him, and he swears the room has gotten even darker. “Tallu—” He doesn’t make it to the end of the name, because then something smacks him in the back with unrestrained force.

Right on his left ulnare, the wingbone left exposed with no fat or muscle to cushion the blow.

Pain explodes throughout his left wing, the shock propagating all the way into his back and making him yell out, a gasp-screech that is very not human. Tallulah peeps loudly somewhere at the edge of his awareness, papa, no, bad! as he falls to his hands and knees, panic spiking, bad, bad, hurts, getoutgetout—

“Oh merde! Phil, ça va ?” He hears glass breaking, smells melon and gunpowder and something both earthy and spicy — Nether wart. Étoiles is healing him, putting a stop to their duel, and the realisation drags him out of that weird fugue state. “You never made that sound before, I think it’s bad. Are you okay?”

“Amethyst,” the older man growls between clenched teeth, letting the potion effects refill his health bar — fuck. Pain signals were always limited during PvP, but this had somehow broken through the server’s capping function. Étoiles makes a noise of incomprehension, his hands just hovering over Phil’s shoulder, not quite touching. “What?” he says, and Phil hears the patter of little feet rapidly coming closer. Pomme and Lullah.

“Please, just... Can you see the amethyst?”

He doesn’t know why he’s asking, of course his friend can’t see it, because that shit isn’t real. Or at least not to anyone but him. Through the haze he can feel Tallulah’s warm shell bump against his arm, hear her little worried chitters. He doesn’t trust himself to tell her he’s fine.

But then, Étoiles raises an eyebrow and turns his head towards the wall, blinks. A frustrated noise. “Euuuh Pomme, je t’adore hein, mais ça va pas trop avec le reste en fait. Tu peux les retirer steuplait ?” Pomme crouches, one-two, then summons a pickaxe and walks towards the crystals, and proceeds to casually break all of them.

Oh. Her backpack, all her rummaging. She’d been trying to decorate the dojo while they were busy sparring. 

Philza lets out an uneven breath, runs a hand through his hair — his forehead is damp with cold sweat, and it sucks. Okay. Okay. Real, then. Just a really, really bad coincidence. Bad timing. Bad everything. He lets out a breath, the tight coil in his chest slowly loosening. “I’m sorry Pomme,” he gives the little egg a smile that he hopes to the Gods isn’t shaky. “Got distracted by the shiny, you know how it goes. Crow brain go brrrrr.”

Pomme falls dramatically on the floor at that, places a red sign that reads [sorry ;_;] “You’re good, you’re good, don’t worry.” Tallulah places a flower next to Pomme, bomp, [RIP manzanita]. Phil chuckles at their antics, heartbeat slowing down to a more normal pace. Jesus Christ. “You like shiny things, Phil?” Étoiles asks. “Did not know that.” He looks around, scans the dojo for any stray shine. “Mmmh. All good, I think. Sorry about Pomme, she likes amethyst stuff.” Then, quieter, “I think it reminds her of Baghera. She has an amethyst farm in her castle.”

Oh. Phil glances at Pomme, who thankfully seems fully absorbed in a sign-based conversation with Tallulah. “That makes sense. She must miss her a lot.”

(Dad, are you proud of me? I just killed a silverfish.)

“Can I see your wings, Phil?”

And, there it is. The other shoe. Phil lets out a heavy sigh, wincing when the movement makes his joint twinge in lingering pain — he’s pretty sure nothing’s actually broken or sprained, at least not any worse than before, but it still hurts. “So you saw them.”

“No no, I can’t. But I know they are there, somewhere. I’m sorry I hit them, I can’t tell where they are if you don’t have them out. Told you it was annoying.”

Ah. That makes more sense. He doubts Étoiles would voluntarily target them. Still… “How do you know about them? And, why?

“Philza, you need to understand something. And the thing is, I’m really dumb. I want to see them because maybe I can help, if I hurt them. I fix.”

“No you’re not, stop that. And you didn’t do any permanent damage, you’re fine.”

“No, wait. I’m stupid with lore, but I have eyes and ears. Jaiden showed she had wings, pretty sure Baghera has some but she hides them, I assumed you were the same.” Ah. Fair enough. Phil hasn’t been as subtle lately, and the crow jokes could only go for so long before people started to pick up on how literal they were. “Also, Kristin told me.”

Wait, what. “Wait, what?”

“Ye ye. First day of Purgatory, I died a lot.  She said she wanted to exchange fofoca, so I told her about things, and she told me about you because she likes me. Did you know, I asked her if I could get wings too? It made her laugh. I guess tech support is not a high enough position to get flying benefits, sad times for me.”

Mother fucker. It’s hard to be upset when everything that spews out of Étoiles’ chattermouth is so consistently funny. “Well. I would’ve told you sooner than later, anyway. S’fine.”

“So you let me help.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll let you take a look, if that’ll make you feel better about it.”

“Let’s goooo, we got trust. Sit down please?”

Phil snorts and complies. He spots Tallulah running back towards him to climb onto his lap with a quiet warbe. good? Phil warbles back, good, yesyes, and rests his chin on top of his egg’s soft locks of hair. He hears Pomme hitting her dad behind him. “Ouais Pomme ?” Bomp, a short silence. “Badboy est là ? Ah ouaaais. Il veut encore t’exploiter pour ses boutons de l’enfer là ? POV, tu aides le fou du QSMP avec son escape game pour pas qu’il te tue.” More hits, Pomme’s little click-chirps. Étoiles laughs. “Okay, okay, t’inquiètes. Va l’aider, moi et Phil on va parler de trucs chiants de toute fa��on. Je te vois plus tard ?” The sound of a warpstone going off. “Saluuut.”

“Is Pomme leaving?”

“Yeah, she wants to build stuff with Badboy.”

“Oh god. Please tell me it’s not another find-the-button map.”

“Yeah. I’m gonna spend ten hours finding those fucking things again soon, let’s gooooo. So your wings, who else knows? I bet Fit knows. And your eggs.” Tallulah nods in Phil’s hold.

Étoiles’ lack of big reaction feels nice, but he supposes he should have expected it — the guy never makes a big deal out of anything. Except when it’s about banned materials. Or the Nether. And finding buttons, new trigger unlocked. “Add in pretty much everyone in the original Bolas, king,” he huffs as Étoiles settles behind him. His unseen presence makes a brief shiver of danger, danger go up Phil’s spine. It’s fine. It’s fine, he soothes himself, idly rubbing at the scar at the center of his chest through his robe. “I lost my shit with them around. Stopped caring as much. They saw them on day one.”

“Isn’t that a good thing? Half the people on this shit island are like, creatures. Not humans. Nobody cares. I’m literally a fruit, Phil.”

Phil chokes on his own spit. “Jesus Christ, you have no idea how funny what you just said was.” Tallulah chirps and wiggles in his hold, places a sign. [*side-eyes u*] it says, and that’s somehow even funnier than if she had actual eyes to side-eye people with instead of the blank expanse of her brown-spotted shell.

Étoiles blinks. He cocks his head to the side, in that specific way he does whenever he’s listening to what he calls the ‘voices of the stars’. (Something akin to his crows, from what the older man has been able to gather.) “Oooh. Oh, is it a gay joke Phil? That doesn’t work man, we are on Gay Island, everyone is gay here, or they don’t date at all. And you are incorrect, because I am in the second group, héhé.”

“Didn’t Antoine call you his boyfriend once?”

“He calls me a lot of things.” Étoiles shrugs. ”He’s also an asshole and my DJ partner and my friend and I love him very much, but no, it’s not like that. And I am married to dark metal and dungeons anyway. Now I’m going to unbind your wings and move them around, okay?”

“Mh. Go for it, king.”

To his credit, Étoiles is methodic in his approach — unknotting the binds and carefully tracing the upper edges of his left wing while the other spreads out with difficulty, a few black feathers coming loose. Étoiles lets out a surprised oh, gently grabs the other to help it unfurl, and Phil feels him poking at the bottom of his regrowing primaries — right where the white ones, usually hidden beneath the outer layer unless he spreads them wide, grow in diamond-like spots. “I know this pattern, right there. You have Elytrian code too, Phil? I thought it was just crow.”

“Ah, so Kristin didn’t tell you everything then.”

“No. And she didn’t like, out you, you know. She only told me because she knew I knew, she only confirmed it. People with wings have like, a way they move? I can’t explain it, I just see it.”

“Body language expert Étoiles, ey? Have you known a lot of avians before?”

Étoiles stays quiet for a second. When he speaks again, he sounds perplexed. “Huh. I don’t know. I guess I knew Baghera? Memory stuff, it’s annoying.”

Phil frowns. Right. “You told me a little about your childhood, though. The village, the farmers?”

“Yeah, that’s a thing that came back quickly after the crash. But everything after that, I don’t remember.”

“Man, fuck this island. I’m sorry.”

Étoiles hums. His fingers start combing through his bottom feathers, lingering among the white ones. “I think. I think I went to the End before, Phil.” His voice has gone softer, airy, like he’s not quite anchored in the present. “I think… maybe, I’ve seen Elytrians before.”

“You have?”

“Mmh. I think I killed one. Yeah. And I took its elytra. It was a good fight.”

The revelation doesn’t shock him — Elytrian hunting is a common activity for those who reach the End, and elytras are a highly sought-after item in most worlds. (Philza would know.) “Were you a hunter? Before the island.”

“I don’t think so. I don’t like hunters.” And Phil can’t see Étoile’s face from his position on the floor, but his words are dripping with contempt. “Hunting for yourself is one thing. Making money off it, it feels wrong. And they don’t even fight, they make traps. I don’t like that. If you’re too shit at fighting to win fairly against something, you don’t deserve the loot. Bâtards de merde.”

And Phil laughs, because this he understands. “Ever the honorable warrior, aren’t you Étoiles.”

“Dude, I have so much honor. I told you, I’m literally Japanese.”

“Right.”

“And like I said, I am your arms. I am your sword, Philza Minecraft.”

Phil’s wings fluff up slightly, a croon of ownership-claim threatening to spill out of his chest. Mine. “Étoiles…”

“I am, it’s not a bad thing! Purgatory sucked. I didn’t like it. But it was better at the end, when you were telling me what to do. Who to kill for you.”

Phil croons, leaning back into Étoiles’ careful hands. “I see. You never called me dad though.”

“Fuck that!” Étoiles laughs, bark-like and airy. “That cult leader shit was weird. You’re Philza.” And there’s a quality to the way he says it, something that feels both casual and reverent. “First of his name, GOAT of PvP, Avoider of Lore, greatest man alive—”

“Woah there—”

“—husband and Angel of Lady Death, and father of dragon eggs. You’re not my dad. Why everyone has daddy issues on this shit island?”

Phil snorts. “I don’t know, mate. But I won’t judge. I think it’s fine if seeing me as a father figure brought them comfort. It was literally hell out there.”

Étoiles hums. “Maybe. Also, you didn’t answer my question.” Phil lets out a confused huh. “Earlier, when I asked why you were hiding that you had wings.”

…Shit. Curse Étoiles’ one-track mind, his deflection tactic had been foiled. “It’s not— shit like prejudice I was afraid of, Étoiles,” he admits, quiet and somber. The other man stops his ministrations, fingers dug deep in his primary coverts. “I know this island is a goddamn circus show. Mousey screams she’s a demon to whoever will listen and nobody gives two shits, I don’t know why Bad even bothers pretending he’s not. That’s not the problem. It’s just…” He sighs. ”The Federation has eyes everywhere, man. I feel like if I show them off too much, they’ll fuck them up again. Maybe even worse than last time.”

Étoiles is silent. His motions resume, slower, more careful and deliberate. “The first time, you say,” he eventually hums. There’s something dangerous in his voice. “So it’s because of them, that they are like this? Your wings.”

“Pretty much. Woke up on the train, boom, clipped. No more flying for me. I don’t know why they didn’t do the same to Jaiden, she said she didn’t want to fly, or didn’t know how? I can’t remember too well, but maybe that’s why. Less of a threat. Honestly, I’m just glad they didn’t do it to her. She’s family now.” Even though her loyalties are a point of concern, he couldn’t help it. She is Bolas, she is flock. And he had held her as she screamed out the temporary loss of her shiny blue wings, that first night in Purgatory. “No avian deserves that shit.”

“You don’t either, Phil.”

“I know that.”

“I’m just saying it because you have the voice! The one you use when you think bad things.”

A wry smile. “How dare you call yourself dumb, man. How fucking dare you.”

“It’s what I do! I kill things, I see people’s true souls, and I shit on myself.”

They stay quiet after that. Étoiles stretches out his wings, flexing the joints one at a time, muttering quick apologies when Phil hisses a little too loud. “Sorry, sorry.”

“You’re good. Keep going.” So he does, until Phil no longer feels the pins and needles of blood flooding back into his wings, until the joints no longer feel like rusted cogs. He even gets a little preening in, dislodging matted down and crooked secondaries, and it feels nice. Tallulah is dozing off in his hold, warm and safe. His egg, his baby, his hatchling. “Thanks mate,” Phil hums, a little out of it by the end, hindbrain thrumming pleasantly. Flock, good, yesyes. “You’ve done that before, I can tell.”

“If I have, I don’t remember. Okay, now stand— sorry Tallulah, were you sleeping? Sorry, your dad has to stand so we can see. Yes, nice. Now try them.”

Phil chitters quietly, furling and unfurling his wings experimentally — the constant pain is still there, but minimal, very bearable, and they do feel less stuffy. Lighter. “It actually does, yeah.” Tallulah does a little dance at his side, twirling and playing a few cheery notes on her flute. “Good job, seriously.”

“No probleeeem, Phil, my bro. Last round?”

This guy, I swear. “I’m a little tired,” Phil groans, cracking his neck as he stands, stretches his wings out as far as he can — it still aches, but feels miles better. “But okay. I’m going to put Tallulah to bed real quick, she’s eepy.” Tallulah nods in confirmation, takes out her warpstone right as her papa does. “Then let’s fight, one more time. After that I’m going home and conking the fuck out.”

Étoiles makes a sound that probably means something like ‘holy shit say less king’. “Okay!”

Five minutes later, and he’s warping back to Étoiles’ cave like a man on a mission. And in a way, he is. “Welcome back, worthy challenger,” the cucumber greets him, crossed-legged in the middle of the dojo, and Phil snorts because the music box is blasting Smash Bros music now. “You’re such a fucking nerd, oh my God.”

“It gives me strength, Phil. It’s my final form.” Étoiles gets up, stick already in hand, bouncing on his heels with anticipation. “Autofeed still off?”

“Yup. How’s your sugar?” Étoiles checks his monitor quickly, gives a thumbs up. “Good. No holding back?”

“I never hold back, Phil. Let’s go.”

There is no countdown this time — both opponents slip into quiet assessment, circling each other slowly, slowly. Étoiles does a strange head-tilt, ears flicking to track Phil’s footsteps, the sounds of feathers ruffling. Phil’s eyes do not stray from him, hardened and focused, picking up on the change in the air. Étoiles wants him to go all out. So he will. And he has a plan.

(The bigger a thing is, the harder it is for me to understand it.)

Time to put that to the test, then.

Étoiles charges first this time, quick-footed, swerving at random moments to keep himself a hard-to-track target. Phil almost bursts into incredulous laughter because holy shit, he’s Naruto-running, what the fuck— but manages to keep his focus, waiting until the very last moment to thrust his wings downward with enough force to send him soaring abovehis opponent. Then, right as his feet touch the tatami and right as Étoiles screeches to a stop to spin back towards him

he spreads his wings

wide, wider

casting huge shadows on the four walls of the dojo

and lets his powers roll off of him like a dark mist, sparking with magic and wither-decay.

(The bigger a thing is, the harder it is for me to understand it.)

It’s a gamble, a costly one that saps his Feds-capped magic like crazy — but it pays off, because Étoiles staggers back, confusion etched across his features. His head subtly snaps in all directions, like he doesn’t know where to look, his ears swivelling to try and pinpoint him. Bingo. Phil has made his nebula-self big, toobig for Étoiles, rendering the warrior effectively blind. Well, double-blind.

Phil doesn’t wait for the other to find a counter to this, curls his wings forward then snaps them back — they launch him forward at breakneck speed and create a gust of wind that makes the paper lanterns swing on their hooks, and then Phil is slamming into Étoiles like a literal hurricane.

The plant hybrid gasps, fingers slackening from the sheer strength of the impact — his weapon slips out of his grasp to clatter against the ground and roll out of bounds. His body describes a perfect curve and hits the wooden floor with a loud thud. He barely has the time to blink the dizziness away before something presses against the side of his neck, and he freezes completely. “Gotcha,” Phil preens, looming above him. The end of his stick is right against Étoiles’ pulse point, the threat crystal clear, and he’s a writhing mass of burning stars and cosmic fury.

The energy rolling off of him washes over Étoiles in waves, makes his skin tingle, and he recognizes it as withering. Withering coming from Philza himself, whose outlines are impossible to pinpoint, lost in the cloud of magic and giant Angel wings.

...Okay, this is sick as hell, Étoiles thinks, and he can feel somethingwithin him grow, a presence rejoicing in the back of his mind. Ink bleeds into his eyes, then under it, twin lines of darkness going down his cheeks and neck. (Flashes of a white spiral on a dark expanse, of whispers and stolen Time.) He feels cold, but he feels good about it, and he’s not scared at all — this is fine, more than fine. Withering is harmless for Death-touched things. Things like him and Phil. He laughs, loud and ecstatic, this is fun, so fun! “Aaah. Clever bird, clever Phil, I like. Okay.”

Then something wraps around Phil’s ankle and pulls it forward, breaking his balance and making him hit the ground ass-first with a startled caw. He grits his teeth, shoots a glare towards his leg to see—

—blinks at the sight of a green vine wrapped around his ankle. His eyes trace along its length. He’s seen this before, but only once, months ago. Right after harvesting a freshly-regrown Étoiles out of the ground, a week after his Code-related demise. “Oh,” Philza says, and Étoiles smirks in return.

His tail is long, as long as he is tall, and covered in large, healthy green leaves. It swishes against the tatami in a serpentine motion, the leaves rustling quietly, and Phil notices a half-star-shaped kink at the end of it. It’s... well, it’s pretty adorable actually, but something tells him Étoiles wouldn’t like that descriptor. “You kept it,” he says instead, fight-darkened eyes sparkling with something like kinship-euphoria. “You grew it out.”

“I did, I listened to you. I keep it wrapped around my waist, it works.”

“Told you it could come in handy.”

“You did. You’re always right about things, Philza.” Étoiles steps into a fighting stance, hands curled into fists, tail lashing left and right like a whip. Phil understands, lets out a quiet chuckle as he sends his own weapon flying out of the arena. So they’re doing it this way, huh. More than fine with him. “Nothing’s off the table then,” he hums, hands curling like claws at his sides, sharpening talons glinting ominously in the light of paper lanterns. His friend hums approvingly, and it’s all Phil needs to pounce.

They no longer try to evade, instead crashing into each other to cause as much damage as quickly as possible. Étoiles throws a jab, Phil retaliates with a smack of his wing to destabilise the other before slashing at his chest, tearing at his shirt and drawing the first blood. Because yes, Étoiles bleeds, deep cuts marring his dark green skin, chlorophyll sticking to Phil’s hands. Étoiles hisses, gets behind him and wraps his tail around Phil’s throat to choke him. Phil gasps, coughs, briefly flails before smacking the other with his wings until the tail goes slack. Phil rips it off him and whirls around to pull at it sharply — Étoiles falls, but not before grabbing onto Phil’s robes to pull him down with him.

Things get messy after that — a flurry of feathers and leaves and punches and kicks, one that clocks Phil in the jaw and makes him taste blood, one at the side of his head that makes him see stars. He hisses, screeches, swipes, again and again, and Étoiles blocks some of them with his arms, arms that gain more and more tiger-stripe cuts, but many go through and eat at his health, heart after heart. The warrior retaliates with a headbutt that makes the Angel’s world darken for a second, burning blood getting into his eyes and half-blinding him. Maybe it’s more fair this way, not that it slows him down at all.

They punch, claw, snap their teeth at each other like rabid dogs — chipping at each other’s health with no care, no limits. Dark red and greenish white smear against the straw tatami, but that’s fine, that’s okay, they are playing, they are having fun, and Philza feels alive, alive, alive!

(The whole time, Étoiles never touches his wings. Which goes against the whole ‘nothing off the table’ thing, yet Philza is grateful for it. He’s also grateful none of the eggs are here to see this.)

Philza has no idea how long this lasts, lost in the thrill of a fight the likes of which he hasn’t experienced in decades. But eventually the doom of someone getting downed makes every muscle in his body lock up, and he’s still standing. Or, kneeling over Étoiles with his talons right above his jugular, the other hand pinning the warrior’s hands above his head to keep him from hitting back. Semantics.

Étoiles has gone limp, heaving, his body a canvas of bruises and bloody cuts. “I win,” Phil realizes, wings quivering, all fluffed up in a show of victory. “I… won.”

“Well played, well played,” his warrior wheezes out in response, and Phil’s never seen anyone so happy about getting their shit kicked. Except maybe one person. But he won, Phil won, Étoiles is down and he himself still has… yes, two hearts to spare. He has won. They can stop. Right here. Right now.

But then. Étoiles, stupid and crazy and wonderful Étoiles, tilts his head back to offer him his throat, his binary-scarred face twisted in a feral grin. Philza gasps and leans back a little, eyes wide “Take your win, my bro,” he chirps, happy as can be, tail thumping against the tatami like an overpet cat. Tap, tap, tap, the countdown to his demise if Phil doesn’t up him soon. “Do it. You won’t. No balls, no bolas.”

And those words are the last push Phil needs for his Elytrian code to take over. He bares his teeth, eyes darkening to a pitch black that eats up his entire sclera, until the white of Étoiles’ teeth gets reflected back at him — not that he can see it. 

Phil’s wings spread out behind him, huge and dark and awe-inspiring even in their frayed state, and the withering aura that exudes from them paints Étoiles’ eternal night in bursts of star-speckled purples and reds and blues.

It’s beautiful. And it’s terrifying. Étoiles is about to get killed by an Angel of Death, and he’s never been so goddamn scared and excited in his life.

 

Phil feels insane. He’s going feral, going sicko mode, or whatever other colloquialism that means his mind is drowning in the thrill of hunt, hunt, prey, yesyes. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Étoiles scared before, but there’s no mistaking those too-wide eyes, that subtle tremor in his friend’s wrists as Phil’s hand tightens around them. He can smell it too, like cut grass left to decay in the hot sun, and it’s making the End’s superpredator in him go zoomies inside his skull.

He growls, low and bone-deep and dangerous, his talons pushing harder against the paling, sweat-damp skin of Étoiles’ neck. prey? flock. prey. prey? kill, eat, yesyes. Étoiles isn’t human, but he has something close to a heart, and he bleeds like one — greenish white chlorophyll that smells strong and tastes awful, bitter.

(Phil knows that, because Purgatory happened. More specifically, Bolas happened, gas masks and ritual sacrifices and fresh blood always lingering at the corner of their mouths. He misses his flock — misses all the ones that are still gone, carving cookie-cutter negative shapes in his heart — everything else about that hellscape, not so much anymore. Maybe he’s healing, just a little.)

 

His talons are just a hair away from perforating Étoiles’ jugular, so close to making not-quite-blood pour out like a fountain. But then he freezes, going silent, because the part of him that is still sane recognizes that this is a terrible idea.

It’s a terrible idea because Étoiles is bad at knowing when to stop, bad at spotting the line between what challenges him and what hurts him. And Philza understands that this, this is a bad. The cucumber hybrid is a creature of instants — fugue moments, rash decisions, the kind you would look back on later and go oh, yeah, that was dumb and maybe not worth it. Hence Philza has to be the responsible one, has to ignore his base instincts screeching at him to hunt, kill, kill, lest this ends badly. Like Étoiles getting mauled to death by what is supposed to be his most trusted friend. Again. (They don’t talk about that time. Just like they don’t talk about Étoiles’ betrayal, neither want to reminisce over Phil’s teeth tearing his throat out in the middle of a Hunger disaster. Not-so-fun fact: Étoiles doesn’t taste like cucumber at all.)

“Enabler,” the avian warbles, talons slowly lifting off the hollow of Étoiles’ throat. “M’not killing you.” And Étoiles, like the little shit that he is, has the gallto pout at him. “Why not?”

“Because then I’ll have to regrow your ass in my potato field for a week, you twat.” Also I think it’s not good for you, and my sanity is at an all-time low so I don’t need cold-blooded murder to push me over the edge, he adds in petto.

Étoiles blinks. Huffs out a laugh, something a little unhinged, but also a little relieved. “Ah, yeah! I forgot, because I respawned normally in Purgatory. Okay, you win.” The warrior’s smile softens to something more like him,  and just like that, the tension vanishes, the buzz of fear and aggression replaced by something light and playful. Étoiles baps his hands against his chest, grabbing at his robe to tug him down into a hug.

And Philza’s hindbrain floods the rest of him with happy, happy, yesyes, because Étoiles isn’t really a touchy-feely person and neither is Phil, but this feels right. “GGs,” the crow says back, warbling and chirping like crazy, the black in his eyes receding. yesyes, mine, mine, yesyes, yesyes! And to his surprise, Étoiles responds, not with a crude imitation of his own bird sounds, but with something… different. And Phil’s not sure any word in his vocab could ever describe it accurately — but something deep within him knows that if starlight was a sound, this would certainly be it. “Oh, oh, he is so good. The GOAT, the actual GOAT, best man on the planet Philza Minecraft,” Étoiles mock-sobs against him. “He wakes up in the morning casually being the best, and he takes care of two eggs and says fuck to the president’s office from the wall, and he finally beats me. My legend, Felipe, Felipe!”

Phil shakes from the force of his hilarity — a regular occurrence whenever he hangs around his favourite pickle man for long enough. silly, he warbles between fits of belly-aching, hiccup-inducing laughter, and he leans down to nuzzle against his friend’s mess of dark green hair (leaves?). silly. silly. flock. “I do see Forever wave at me from his office sometimes,” he hums, once he’s calmed down enough to speak again. “He makes kissy faces at me through the glass, so I flip him off.”

Étoiles hums in acceptance, finally pushes Phil back to shimmy out from under him with a small héhé to lay on his back, starfish-style. Phil rolls onto his own back, and they both stare at the interlacing wooden beams of the dojo roof for a little while, basking in the fuzz of a fading adrenaline rush.

(Phil hasn’t seen his favourite Brazilian as much lately. Silly, sun, friend-protector. He probably has his hands full, what with returning to his political duties after so long. Still, Philza worries — he thinks of black tar clinging to sun-kissed skin and tired sienna eyes, above a smile that just doesn’t shine as bright as it used to.) “I kinda like it, though. It’s like our good morning. Never tell him I said that.”

“I wooooon’t, I promise.”

“Thank you. For the fights.” Philza closes his eyes. He is here, he is real, everything about this moment is so real. It’s comforting, a balm on his fraying psyche. “It was fun.”

“It was so fun. Please fight with me again like this sometime, no sticks, yes? You have to come back so I give you your black belt anyway.”

“Maybe. We’ll see.”

“I can hear you smiling, Phil. You want to, I knowww.”

“M’not smiling at all, dumbass.”

Étoiles does that high-pitched hum of his that means he’s not buying it, reaches towards his friend — his leader, his wielder, his death-touched Angel. Cool fingers, untouched by code, playfully trace over each of Philza’s features, feeling out the dimples and the crow’s feet at the corner of his eyes — pun very much intended. “You’re so bad at lying, Philza,” he sing-songs, playful and content. “I know you too well. Maybe I can’t see you, but I can see you.”

And goddammit, Philza actually does feel seen in this moment, anxieties melting away for now. How does he do it. How does this reckless, thrill-seeking cucumber man with a limited (albeit pretty good, and improving) grasp on English so consistently drop the most gut-punching lines in this entire server. Étoiles is something else. “...Yeah. I see you too, mate,” Phil breathes out, and the rough texture of the tatami is starting to dig criss-cross patterns into his back, but he wants to stay like this. Just a little longer.

 

(Philza is damaged goods. But so is Étoiles, and so is everyone he knows. But maybe they can both pretend, for a little while.)

[itsnotzka]

Hi diddly ho!

This is just a small, simple piece. It was originally meant to be a bonus chapter for another story of mine, but somewhere along the way (two damn years later lol), I changed my mind 😌 But I finished it, thanks to that!

No warnings, no spoilers.

Read the whole thing on Ao3:

(or here, under the cut ↓)

“I have no idea how you do it,” she murmurs, her voice seems to smooth away the edges of my wandering thoughts.“When you make coffee, it tastes different.”

The cold floor bites at my bare feet, a contrast to the warmth coiling up from her steaming mug. Morning sunlight spills through the window in golden ribbons, dust motes drifting lazily in their glow. A distant car horn blares once, then again. A dog barks. The coffee machine clicks off. The tiles are freezing. Why am I barefoot? I don’t like being barefoot.

“Different?” I echo, dragging my focus back to her. “Different how?”

Her lips curl downward in a small, almost imperceptible frown as she taps her chin, lost in thought.

I notice she’s wearing my shirt. It hangs loosely on her, and the dark fabric seems to deepen the color of her eyes—like the sky just before a storm. I wonder, does she choose my shirts because she likes them, or simply because she knows I do?

What did she really mean by ‘different’?

Another bark, this time louder. That’s the neighbor’s dog, isn’t it? The one that doesn’t like me. Why doesn’t she like me? I tried to be nice. I even offered treats once. Perhaps she senses I don’t quite belong here. Somehow, even in this familiar neighborhood, I can’t shake the feeling of being an outsider.

“Different,” she repeats with a chuckle, then hums as she takes a slow sip. “Good different. Makes me want to make you make me coffee every day.”

I laugh at her words. Her eyes twinkle over the rim of the mug like little galaxies caught in the morning light. Wasn’t I meant to take out the trash? My feet protest the cold floor with every step, and the pale tiles shimmer in the morning light. I pause as the chill reminds me to find my socks. Did I even turn on the heating? 

I should remember about the trash. 

Galaxies. They’re still staring at me.

“Oh?” I drag out a chair to sit in front of her.

I freeze before I do. Coffee. I had a cup of coffee, too. I glance around the kitchen. 

Why do I always lose my coffee?

The dog barks once more. Does she sense I’m thinking about her? Why exactly doesn’t that dog like me? Other dogs don’t mind me. Maybe it’s the neighbors. Maybe it’s because I blocked their car once. I apologized, didn’t I? Does a sincere apology not count for anything these days? Maybe I should’ve brought them cookies. Do they even like cookies? What if they’re allergic?

“Looking for this?” Her voice suddenly draws me back.

I blink, focusing again on the present.

She nods toward the coffee machine. Right next to it, my mug sits, steam curling from its surface like a smug little specter.

Logical, isn’t it? 

I exhale sharply. “Right! Thank you,” I laugh, reaching for ir. “Sneaky little devil, always hides from me.”

“For sure! Remember to never underestimate the power of a cup of coffee, hun!”

I tip the mug a little too much. Coffee spills over the edge, splattering onto the cold tile, some onto my bare feet. I groan, doubly annoyed—first at the mess, then at my lack of socks. Though maybe it’s for the best. Wet socks are a special kind of hell.

Like the one reserved for people who talk in theaters.

The stain spreads, seeping into the grout like ink bleeding across a page. A Rorschach test in shades of caffeine. What does it look like? A bird? No, a dog. Neighbor’s dog. Maybe the vague outline of some country. If I tilt my head—

I step forward and plant my foot directly in the spill. Warm liquid squelches against my skin.

Fantastic. 

With a sharp exhale, I set my mug down and grab a paper towel, swiping at the floor in a few quick motions.

Somewhere in the background, she hums. A soft melody, half-formed, like a thought slipping just out of reach. I know that song. I know it, don’t I? What is it? It’s on the tip of my tongue. No, not my tongue—my brain . Or maybe both. Can something even be on the tip of your brain?

I crumple the paper towel and move to toss it. The trash can groans open. It’s full.

Of course it is.

Remember. The damn. Trash!

With a sigh, I lower myself onto the chair across from her. She watches me over the rim of her mug, one brow slightly raised. That look—amused, but knowing.

She reaches for my hand, pats it gently. Her skin is warm, smooth against mine. Then, still humming, she stands and drifts toward the counter.

Right. My damn coffee.

I sigh again. She just smiles, winking.

Apparently, it’s one of those days, where everything seems to slip away.

"Isn't that yours?" She sets the mug in front of me.

I offer a tired, bitter smile but only nod, wrapping my fingers around the warmth.

I take a sip—too hot. It burns my tongue just enough to be annoying, and I don’t react fast enough to stop it. That’ll bother me all day. Or five minutes. Hard to tell.

She’s still humming. I know that song. I should ask, but I don’t. I don’t know why. 

I want to figure it out on my own. 

The air smells like coffee and sunlight. Can sunlight have a smell? Not really. But I swear it does. Warm, golden, like something familiar, something comforting. Maybe it’s just dust warming up in the beams of light. Isn’t it too much dust, though? I should clean the apartment.

Didn’t we just clean?

‘Just’ is an exaggeration, I realize. It was over a week ago.

She shifts in her seat, pulling her legs up, knees to her chest, mug cradled between both hands. She always holds her coffee like that. I wonder if it’s for warmth or just a habit. I wonder if she even notices she does it.

“What?” she asks, eyes crinkling with amusement.

“What?” I echo.

“You’re staring with that look of yours. Like a deer in the headlights.”

Oh. I am.

“I—” I start, but the words don’t show up. They scatter before they reach my tongue.

I lift my coffee again. Cooling now, but still warm.

“Just… admiring the view,” I say, half-joking. Except it isn’t a joke at all.

She snorts, shaking her head. "Smooth."

A flicker of a smirk, barely there before she hides it behind the rim of her mug. The shirt, my shirt, slips off one shoulder as she shifts, and just like that, my thoughts derail completely.

The way fabric folds. The way collarbones look in morning light. The asymmetry of it all. One side bare, the other covered. Isn’t asymmetry more interesting? Almost symmetrical but not quite—does that make something more beautiful? Or unsettling? And why? I should Google that later.

I wanted to figure out something else, didn’t I?

What was it?

Oh. Right. The song.

"What are you humming?" I ask before I think.

She blinks. "Huh?"

"The song. You’ve been humming it for the last five minutes."

Or longer?

"Have I?" A pause, then a soft chuckle. "No idea."

I swallow hard. No, no, no. 

That kills me. My whole body protests the lack of an answer. Now that I know she doesn’t know, it starts driving me insane.

It’s stuck in my head now—the melody I know but can’t name.

Another sip of coffee. The warmth is nice. Comforting. It does taste good. 

She tilts her head, watching me. “You okay?”

I nod. A little too fast. A little too mindlessly. “Yeah. Why?”

“You just…” Her gaze softens. “You look like you’re somewhere else.”

I chew on that. She’s not wrong. I’m always somewhere else. And right here. And nowhere, all at once. Like my brain is a crowded room with too many conversations happening at the same time, and I can only half-listen to each one. Too many things to think about, and the seconds are so short.

I shake my head, as if that’ll clear it. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

Loaded question. About everything and nothing all at once—the smell of the air, the half-remembered song stuck in my head, the chill of the tiles beneath me, the existential dread of forgotten Google searches. The fact that I still haven’t taken out the trash. How my tongue still tingles from the too-hot coffee.

How do I even explain that? It’s physically impossible.

So I just shrug. “Just… stuff.”

She laughs—quiet but knowing. Her fingers brush against mine. “That’s a dangerous pastime, isn’t it?”

I exhale a small laugh through my nose.

She reaches across, tracing slow circles over my knuckles with her thumb. Soft. Warm. The noise in my head doesn’t stop, not entirely, but it dims it, like a radio turned down instead of off.

My coffee is the perfect temperature now, that fleeting sweet spot between scalding and lukewarm. I savor it.

Then—like a stray lightning bolt—clarity strikes.

“Hurry, Hurry.”

She blinks. “Excuse me?”

“The song,” I say, triumphant. “It’s ‘Hurry, Hurry’. Air Traffic Controller, isn’t it?”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “It is?”

I nod, grinning. 

Her eyebrows lift in surprise, then she lets out a soft laugh. "Oh, yeah... I guess so. I’d never know! Must’ve heard that one from you the other day."

I exhale, relieved. The damn itch in my brain is soothed. The mystery is solved. No more nagging sensation, no more half-formed thought lurking just out of reach. A small, ridiculous victory, but still—a victory.

The world outside still stirs. Another honk, a door slamming, the faint murmur of a passing conversation. The neighbor’s dog, ever-vigilant, yaps twice, as if to remind me she’s still there. Still hating me.

I’m a cat person, anyway. 

I take another sip of coffee, stretching out the moment of this unexpected peace. 

Maybe that’s what I’ve been missing. The moments in between, the ones that don’t shout for attention but still matter. I should focus on that. The way coffee tastes in the morning. The way her voice lingers in my head even after she’s stopped speaking. The way she looks in my shirts. The way days feel softer with her in them. The way she never judges me. 

Well, except for the occasional muffled laugh when I bump into a doorframe. Or that slight flicker of disapproval in her eyes when she realizes I’ve forgotten to eat.

I should tell her that. Not now, but sometime.

She shifts, stretching her legs out under the table until her toes brush against my foot. A small, absent-minded thing, but it makes me smile.

“Yeesh!” She gasps, jerking back. Your feet are freezing!”

“Are they?” I chuckle, wiggling my toes. Or trying to, at least. I can barely feel them. “Didn’t notice.”

She shoots me a knowing look, equal parts unimpressed and amused. Maybe she can read my mind? Some of it, at least. 

Then, with a clink, she sets her coffee down and leans in, propping an elbow on the table.

“Oh, honey, before I forget,” she glances at me. “Did you remember to take out the trash? It’s been full for two days now.”

Shit. 

[hydrangeyes]

A new adventure awaits you!

So if you don't know, Yes this already existed, my old account was deleted (accident but I can tell I won't be getting it back), and am reposting my old x male reader works!

I don't know if I saved all of them but here is one that was saved to my AO3 account.

Edit: So shuffling through my docs It's been brought to my attention that wattpad (who I use as backup) Cut a lot of my fics in half??? anyway I'll be trying to fix that also

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Monkey D. Luffy x Seme male reader

Chapter Text

Height: 5'9

Gender: Male

Age: 23 (Luffy 22)

Personality: Blunt

Hair color: Dyed green, curly mess

Eye color: Hex #94544a

Body type: Soft, lightly muscular think mechanic type

Power: Yes, plant-based

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Your road to becoming a world-class chief was surprisingly a bumpy and chaotic one. Traveling land to land, learning different recipes and ingredients involved more action than you originally thought.

Then occasionally diving into the sea to catch exotic sea life that looked edible

And then, after you ate that smelly yellow fruit it weirdly even itself out. A healthy blend of too much and just enough going on in your life. Of course, you heard the legends about the highly looked-for devil fruits. But you thought they were just legends and didn't think of them much after.

Stumbling upon one while lost and eating it wasn't part of your plans. How were you supposed to know that they came in a variety of designs!? the legend only talks about the one! at least the legend you heard of.

But it has helped you both in a fight and cooking-wise.....

And really really out of all the bumps and stumbles during your journey. None of it could prepare you for the straw hat pirates. Well, definitely not their Captain Monkey D. Luffy.

It all started when you arrived back at your main place of residence. An island called Crystal Rock.

Looking out to the harbor with a smile you inwardly pat yourself on the back for picking this place out on the map. Already there were rows of fresh-looking produce being sold at stands that led to a lively marketplace.

Waving at any familiar face you make you're way to your own cozy eatery. You left it in the hands of a trusted employee and seeing them inside getting ready to open it piece warmed your heart.

You went in to help, startling your employee but they gave you a warm welcome back anyway. It was a special day and with all that you brought back, you need to prep a special menu!

It took you a while, not that you mind it gave time for regulars to come in and make a happy ruckus about your return which gained the attention of some new customers.

It was fun and finally displaying the new menu ramped things up. As you drag a barrel of alcohol on out you frown hearing how quiet things have gotten all of a sudden.

"H-hey boss.. um, some pirates came in demanding to see you?" your employee poked their head into the kitchen. They were trembling. Tensing you grab your pan as if to serve the still hot dish on it and followed them out.

"Ah."

Waiting for you there was a group that called themselves the sea urchins. A fitting name really. They've been following you around trying to get you to join their crew for months now.

Scowling you gesture to the door with the pan. "Get out of my tavern, now."

"Or what?" The captain snorts smirking as his crew laughed behind him, a few snatching drinks from cowering customers.

In a flash, you jumped over the countertop and swing your hot pan. Smacking the captain across the face. The force sending him through the window and across the street.

"Or that." You growled out.

And that's when chaos erupted.

(Mini time skip)

You don't know when but at some point between you fighting off the other crew members and the Urchin captain getting back up now with a half-burnt face, another group of pirates joined in.

When things have calmed down you bashed that stupid urchin captain's head hard enough to send him packing, you looked up to check on your tavern.

"Ah, what a relief it's still standing...well...except for the window," you grumbled to yourself.

Checking it over almost made you forget about the other pirate group. Hearing them check on each other you turn and blink. Those eyebrows......

"Sanji-sama!?"

(Timeskip lol)

Sanji couldn't believe you were only able to recognize him from his eyebrow pattern. But in your defense, you have yet to see anyone with similar brows.

Now here you were after the fight, treating the group to a late feast. A thank you gift for helping in the fight.

While you were chatting with Nami and Usopp (I love him), Luffy inches his way to Sanji while devouring his pile of food.

"Hey hey, Sanji?"

"hm?"

"How do you know Y/n?"

Luffy asks staring at you curiously. Sanji hums glancing at Zoro "Ah we crossed paths when I was younger, I kind of took him in and- wait hold on!" He stops and points at Luffy standing in front of him glaring "We already have a cook, ME!"

Luffy pouts up at him, moving Sanji's hand from his face.

"That's not why I asked! Tho... I do really like his food.."

"Ah, I'm glad you do Luffy!" a voice calls from behind Sanji, startling him to the ground. You raise an eyebrow at the goofy man and step over him grinning at Luffy.

"I want to make the best for the person who helped protect my tavern after all." you hummed. For the first time in a long while Luffy's face became flush and he appeared flustered.

"W-well um It's nothing really! Is this really okay, making all this that is?" He squeaks out rubbing the back of his neck looking up at you shyly.

'Cute.' You think to yourself and chuckle smirking "It's more than alright, I've stuffed our storage to the brim." you purr softly, Luffy looks you over in a daze then away. You almost burst out laughing as Luffy suddenly looks redder than an apple. His mind running over less than innocent things for once.

"Eh? Sanji-sama is your captain a pervert?????"

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aaaaa this went longer than I expected lol. Hope you like it, kinda ran with this one then semi-lost steam (❛‿❛✿̶̥̥)

Requested by: @AntonellaVelazcoGuer Thank you!!!!

[thislittlekumquat]

Hello! Welcome. Have a look around. I encourage horniness on main, don't be shy!

I am a librarian by day, and am currently dipping into freelance work doing a variety of things - editing, beta reading, research, writing, general bookishness. My DMs/ask box are open, or you can email me at ovvlish@proton.me. Check out my ko-fi, my most important blog post of all time about how to buy books anywhere other than amazon, or my affiliate page on bookshop.

If I reblog ask memes, I promise I always want your ask!

More about my blog under the cut

Common tags for things I post and reblog a lot about, for you to either dive into or block:

Kuroshitsuji Grell sutcliff Nsfw Nsfw text Ecology Plants Books Writing Gpoy My writing My fic Libraries witchcraft history of medicine history

Spouse tag (I'm married to @/rain-shoshana who is an artist and author, so you'll probably see me reblogging a ton of their stuff. if you like Poirot or Sherlock Holmes fanfic, mushrooms, or historical costume illustration, their stuff is for you!)

Gremlin register (@/lululeighsworld and I are frequent collaborators and always screaming in each others' mentions so the variety of posts here is wide)

Monoc (a current original fiction project, full working title is Monoculture. It's a historical fantasy, set in the 1880s in Germany and England, about queer witches, the dangers of colonial imperialism, and working in true harmony with the land)

Potf (other original fiction project, less developed, short for working title People of the Forest, about three truly terrible queer assholes who are coworkers and also toxic codependent lovers. Some as-yet undetermined theme of community and decentralized power. Very horny. It's a mess)

Catholicism (this one is very personal to me, and mileage will vary for you, but rest assured I believe that Catholicism has always had room for a lot more queerness and variety of devotion and/or interpersonal love than modern american practice and communities would have you believe. I also fully believe in the literal practice of communalism that the early church embodied, and I think for a true vision of catholic social justice to be achieved, capitalism must be abolished. you'll find a lot of hagiography and death in this tag as well)

-

Generally speaking, if you think of yourself as an anti, we're probably not going to get along.

You can find me on ao3 as thislittlekumquat as well!

[acephysicskarkat]

So much of the disappointment of S5 came down to its refusal to actually do anything with the good elements of SP0P. It feels like we traded final seasons with the Berenstein universe, or it was based on Stevenson’s original drafts instead of the actual episodes, or they meant to go back and flesh it out with payoffs for the planting but never got around to it. (Or, in keeping with my conspiracy theory about this, that the permission/order to do c/a came a noticeable chunk into the allotted writing period and forced them to rewrite everything in a wild rush.)

Adora and C*tra had a promise to look after each other. We learn this in a big episode named after it, written by the showrunner! Is that going to go anywhere? Nope, never mentioned again. But hey, it was inadvertently recontextualised by the flashback that paints their entire friendship as a toxic, controlling mess; that’s not nothing! It’s less than nothing!

Adora punches C*tra in the face and refuses to put up with her guilt-tripping any more. How does S5 handle this? Well, it has C*tra pull out the Blame Game several times, and Adora meekly accepts every shitty bit of victim blaming the writers dole out in their frantic attempt to both-sides this argument four seasons after they would have had to start to make it work. (Which is a failure confined solely to S5, as a note; whoever had the idea to build C*tra’s redemption around an apology hopefully did not anticipate that it would later be whittled down from “I’m sorry for everything” to “I’m sorry you were offended”.)

Meanwhile, on C*tra’s end, there was that whole Thing in S3 about how her obsession with Adora was only hurting them both and the best thing for her would be to move on. That was gutsy. Acknowledging that even if two characters did care for each other, trying to commit to it would only hurt them? That’s the kind of complex, difficult thing you’d see from Steven Universe at its best. So, naturally, season 5 opts to completely drop that because doing anything to expand on it would contradict the Shipping Grid of Destiny, which is more important than any of your lowly mortal concerns like plot, characterisation, or theme.

Or hey, how about Adora’s desire to find her family, which is given a wildly unsatisfying resolution (”they’re dead so stop asking”) and then dropped entirely? They don’t even take the low-hanging fruit option of having C*tra console Adora over it (that would be too much like treating Adora like a person with her own needs for S5 to even consider it), they just forget it was there, and even the found family option is given one dream sequence that is never actually connected to it. Bonus points because taking this option both abandons the power-of-friendship stuff from the much better written season 1 and 4 finales and sidelines the best candidates for her found family, the Princesses of Power, who you’d think would have been important because they’re literally in the title but apparently not.

This is a pattern that becomes much clearer in the wake of S5 and its attempt to make a clean break with seasons 1-4 but was already there before it, from the C*tra/Shadow Weaver parallels that end up going exactly fucking nowhere to the crowd of princess outlines that Light Hope shows Adora for no coherent reason because we later learn that the only one who actually matters is Scorpia.

The show always seems to be planned out until the end of the season and then just wings it from there. And that’s not an inherently bad thing, many great stories have been the product of just winging it, but it does make it weird when people ignore that and act like it’s not this thing it’s hard not to notice that it in fact is.

If this whole thing was a Glorious Cohesive Narrative That Was Planned In Advance, that means they intentionally had C*tra do something borderline unforgivable with the explicit intent of having it be hastily forgiven. They deliberately yelled in the audience’s face that this relationship is not healthy and the best thing for them both would be to move on as an intentional way of making people want them to hook up. That’s...kinda not a good look.

[thebemoon]

what are some of your favorite words/sentences you’ve written this month?

Oooooh, I love this question SO much, but I'm incapable of just posting a sentence, so here are two scenes.

I haven't been working on my Dramione WIP this month (Bad Thebe!). Instead I'm messing around with my Draco/Original Female Character fic, which I plan to finish before I start posting. So here are a few bits from that.

The story is about an American witch named Chloe who doesn't know much about the war with Voldemort. She shows up in Britain about seven years after the war and starts up a secret affair with Draco, whom she doesn't always take very seriously. ("Oh! Were you a Dark Beater?")

Here's Chloe the first night she met Draco at the Leaky Cauldron:

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“So what do you do now?” I asked the blond wizard. “Do you work?”

He looked appalled. “Malfoys don’t work.”

“So what do you do, Draco?”

The wizard raised an eyebrow at my use of his first name, but he allowed it.

“Traditionally, we peddle our influence and wealth for power,” he said. “Sadly, this is no longer an option.”

“So you just sit around alone in weird pubs," I said.

He frowned. “You disapprove."

“No, no, that’s fine if you like it,” I said brightly. “At least you’re not building a criminal empire.”

“How do you know I’m not?”

“You wouldn’t be sitting here talking to me,” I said. “I don’t have the connections.”

“True,” he admitted. 

“I mean, I just got here.”

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

And here's something I wrote a week ago.

Chloe works in the American Embassy at the Ministry of Magic, and here she is in a Floo call with her boss Armistead Salem, the Magical Secretary of State:

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

“WHAT THE SAM HILL ARE YOU ALL DOING OVER THERE?” Salem yelled at us.

“Um, uh," I stammered, "there was this busload of Chicago tourists who were turned into frogs in the Cotswolds —”

“I JUST GOT A LETTER FROM THE BRITISH MINISTRY!” the Secretary shouted. “They’re threatening to break off diplomatic relations unless they can feed their panda pigs! What the f*** are panda pigs?”

“Well, as the name suggests, it’s a hybrid between a panda and a—”

“DO YOU KNOW WHAT’S HAPPENING IN WIZARDING WASHINGTON RIGHT NOW?” Salem asked. “A MACUSA investigation into covert activities abroad! And I had to leave a Senate hearing to deal with BAMBOO???!!!"

I shifted on my knees. “Yes, well, our tariffs doubled earlier this year, and the British just want to know why —”

“WHY? I’LL TELL YOU WHY!” cried the Secretary. “We can’t afford to continue subsidizing plant and iron exports, so any countries affected are going to have to take it and like it! What has keeping tariffs low gotten us? Jack shit! What the f*** has the Ministry of Magic ever done for the U.S.?”

“Well, they did defeat Voldemort —”

“OH GREAT GLINDA YOU SOUND LIKE THEM NOW!" Salem yelled. "I’m THIS close to turning my Red Sox cap into a Horcrux and flying over there and scaring the shit out of all of them!"

The Secretary glared at me through the Floo flames. "Take care of this, or I swear to Oz I’ll sever relations with the Ministry and fire every one of you!!!!”

The Floo call ended in a puff of green smoke and I looked at my coworker.

“Wow,” I said. “That must be some Senate hearing.”

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

Hope you liked it!

Thebe

[maddieshifts]

my no way home dr <3

Hi besties!

Here's a little introduction to my No Way Home DR :) For context, I have not shifted to this DR yet. Everything I'm about to write are things that I have DR memories about or scenarios and background I scripted myself.

Just for another note! I have the same background and mostly the same history in this DR as I do in my OG Marvel DR. The difference being this DR takes place years later (after the Blip [I was Blipped whoops]) and I broke up with Pietro during Civil War (fingers crossed P and I don't break up in my OG Marvel DR lol).

‿୨♡୧‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿୨♡୧‿

Name: Maddie Carter Age: 24 S/O: Peter Parker (Peter 3) Age: 26

Family

Samuel Carter, father, deceased

Louisa Carter, mother, deceased

Margaret "Peggy" Carter, great-aunt, deceased

Sharon Carter, cousin, age 28

Background

My parents died when I was young, so I went to live with my cousin Sharon and her family. My great-aunt Peggy and my cousin both hid their employment with SHIELD from me.

I was on a study-abroad program to Sokovia when the attack during Age of Ultron occurred.

I was in the embassy when the lower levels exploded. There were sentient robots surrounding the building and the Avengers were attempting to resolve the situation quickly, but I ended up caught under a piece of rubble with no way out. I was the only one injured in the explosion (main character syndrome lol).

I was knocked unconscious when a wave of Wanda's powers rippled through the building.

I gained Wanda's powers (except mine present as purple). Additionally to hers, I can manipulate the air around me to fly short distances and I can read everyone's mind (except Wanda's) and manipulate their will to mine.

Wanda, Pietro, and I trained together to cultivate and regulate our powers, eventually leading to the three of us taking and passing the Avengers Entrance Exam and becoming official members. We all grew very close during this time. Wanda became my best friend and Pietro became my boyfriend.

During the "Avengers Civil War" as the media refers to the situation, our forces were split nearly in half. Wanda and I ended up working with Steve while Pietro sided with Tony. The "civil war" ended with two factions of the original Avengers group. We work together when needed, but typically fight separately.

Additionally, the infighting caused a severe rift in my relationship with Pietro. He took my choosing Steve as a personal offense against him and our relationship. We fought constantly over FaceTime and phone calls and ended up breaking up.

Wanda left the Avengers after we returned from the Blip. I don't learn this until later, but while all this is happening in my DR, Wanda is off in Westview living the events of the WandaVision TV show.

No Way Home

On November 5, 2024, Peter (1) calls me in the afternoon to enlist my help in tracking down the villains who have escaped through the crack in the multiverse resulting from his broken spell with Dr Strange.

I meet up with MJ and Ned at the Sanctum while we search the internet for Green Goblin and any other villains. When we get a lead on another potential target, I go with Peter to the power plant and help him subdue Electro and Sandman. I stay with Peter to help him clean up our mess.

When Aunt May calls Peter about Osborn being at FEAST, I go with him to make sure everyone is okay. After Peter traps Strange in the Mirror Dimension, I go out on my own looking for any multiverse visitors we could have missed.

That’s when I meet Peter (3). I track him down in an alley and use my powers to determine that he is who he says.

Peter (3) and I instantly connect. We talk for awhile about his home universe and what’s currently going on in mine. Then Ned opens a portal while searching for Peter (1).

I go through the portal with Peter (3) and convince Ned and MJ that he is telling the truth about his identity. Ned then opens another portal, which leads to Peter (2). I use my powers again to determine that he is also telling the truth about his identity.

The Peters, Ned, MJ, and I then go to their school to look for Peter (1). We wait in the science lab with the Peters while they complete their cures for the villains.

Peter (3) and I talk some more about our lives and I start to really like him.

The Statue of Liberty Fight takes place as in canon, except that I am fighting alongside the Peters.

After the villains have all been cured, Strange still has to do the spell to make everyone forget about Peter Parker. After Peter (1) says goodbye to me and the other Peters, he goes to find MJ and Ned. Peter (2) goes to talk with Osborn and make amends.

Peter (3) and I are left alone on the shield. Peter tells me that he wishes he could stay in this universe. He tells me that he has really liked spending time with me and that he wishes he had more time to get to know me. I tell him that I feel the same way and we hug.

As Strange is completing his spell and everyone is returning to their own universes, my powers expand beyond my control.

My powers overwhelm me because of all the emotions I have been feeling for the past 48 hours. All I can think about is how unfair it is that Peter (3) is about to be ripped away from me even though he’s been saying he wants to stay since I met him. I can’t stop the energy from radiating from me.

A purple haze envelops me and Peter (3), and when Strange’s spell is complete, Peter (3) remains in the MCU. We remember the battle and were immune from all parts of Strange’s spell, so we still remember Peter (1).

Peter (3) and I return to my apartment to get clean and change clothes, and we decide that we need to find Peter (1) in the next few days and let him know that we remember him.

Looking Forward

My tentative plan and assumption for the future of this DR is that Peter (3) and I will find Peter (1) and let him know that we remember him. We'll help him get MJ's memories back and Ned's.

Peter (3) wants to help in New York, so we have a suit made for him and he becomes a vigilante known as Webslinger. Everything with the Avengers is very tentative, especially when it comes to Peter (1), so we all just try to stay off their radar while we work things out.

‿୨♡୧‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿୨♡୧‿

I haven't focused on this DR in a while, but No Way Home is one of my favorite movies of all time! Feel free to ask my any questions you might have regarding this DR :)

[bigmeandragonlady]

combining one of my favorite things and my current fixation! gw2 + shepherds of haven! we're putting the cast into gw2!

Note: I dont remember all of the specializations within the classes and have played the asura background like. once.

Blade- Charr from the Ash legion. The Charr are primarily run by military organizations. Can even have a failed assassination plot b/c of human/charr relations! anyway, he ends up joining the Vigil and later the Pact. I'll be predictable: He's a Warrior.

Trouble - Human Thief with the Deadeye specialization. I thought about making him Charr b/c I thought it was interesting, but the human origin in game even has an option that fits him super well. Joins the Vigil as well, through Blade.

Tallys - Norn Ranger, revers Owl or Snow Leopard. Was very tempted to make her Sylvari (and it would still work) for ties with Briony and the plant thing BUT they are a super young race (like they started popping up about 30 years ago, i think) and the general vibe of the Sylvari don't really match her. The Norn are still connected to the land, spiritual, and long lived- they have also been driven out of their homelands by Jormag. It wouldn't be hard at all to give her the same kind of backstory as her canon one.

Could also lean into her 'I hate human government for killing my people' and make her Charr. It would be fun to make her super long lived via some magic/mists bullshit so she was around for Ascalon.

Shery - Either a human or asura, leaning towards human. Born and raised in Lion's arch, and is part of the Priory as of Scarlet's invasion. I could see her learning a bit of the mesmer art. Devout of the six, particularly Dwayna.

Riel - Asura and would be an engineer if had to enter combat. Stationed in Lion's Arch (it's the best place of the leader of the Merchant's guild as a bustling port town). Works primarily with the Priory and Order of Whispers, but is not part of either.

Chase - Human thief (daredevil). I can't bring myself to change his 'a normal human but kind of a freak' thing. Starts part of a thieves guild but eventually gets recruited by the Order of Whispers and takes a bunch of his thieves with him.

Alya - Human Elementalist. Either Tempest or Weaver would work, b/c gw2 doesn't have a 'you're focused in one element' class. I'm not sure where she'd be from but my first instinct is that her parents fled Joko's reign/invasion in Elonia and ended up in Tyria. Or she managed to escape on her own later in life.

Red - Human (although Asura could also work) Revenant. Revenants channel powers from the Mists and anything to so with the mists seem to be in line with Red's 'I mess with dangerous shit.' The mists are where the realms of the gods are, the afterlife, time loops, fractals of time and space, endless wars, and people go insane there. He would definitely work with the Priory.

Halek - Norn warrior, wolf or bear would fit. Fun fact about the Norn is that they're like 9ft tall :) Would join the pact as soon as he could find a good reason to get away from his obligations that mirror his canonical ones.

Briony - Sylvari warrior or guardian, cycle of noon. She is from the Magumma tree, rather then the pale tree but washed up somewhere with no memory so no one would probably ever know. Did she answer Mordemoth's call? No one knows, not even her. She's generally seen as a brand new sylvari who just came out of her pod.

Lavinet- Human, part of the Divinity's Reach nobility (in the area of Lake Doric) Starts working with the Pact after the bloodstone explodes in bloodstone fen but doesn't actually join until 'Head of the Snake' in living world season 3.

[perfectlypanda]

(Not trying to shoot your ideas down, just discussing the feasibility of what you've suggested based on the geography as presented in canon. This was a fun creative exercise!)

First, I think the trees you've designed sound super cool (although the description of their pulp being "warm and almost flesh-like" gave me visceral horror story vibes). I particularly like the idea of them using endothermy as an adaptation.

However, one of the problems of the hypothetical trees you've presented is that they still need soil. In the first few screencaps in my original write up, you can see that the ground near the coast is snow covering thick ice, not snow covering frozen soil. If temperatures never rise above freezing (which they don't even during AtLA's midsummer), then snow never melts and instead gets compressed down into the ice layer by newer snowfall. If there is any rock or soil below the ice in the South Pole, it's not just a few inches down, it would be meters or even kilometers down (If we use Earth as a model, the ice can get up to 3 miles/ 4.9 km deep).

On Antarctica, there are a handful of places (less than 1% of the continent, and I'm not including a few small islands because they're outside the Antarctic circle and not reflective of the rest of the continent) where there is exposed soil (Antarctic Oases). These places exist because they are so dry that they don't get enough snow or ice to maintain ground cover, or winds blow away what little snow it gets. It's so cold that most of the time the exposed soil is frozen, and the soil itself is rocky/ sandy, and very poor nutritionally. That said, there have been a few nonvascular land plants found there (moss, lichen, algae).

There is no canon evidence to suggest that AtLA's South Pole has "Antarctic Oases" like Earth's does. However, if it does, while it would give plants access to soil (sort of... only the top 1-2 feet ever thaws), these areas are some of the driest deserts on the planet, so they don't provide enough moisture to sustain a plant, let alone a tree.

The South Pole's polar winter presents additional difficulties. During winter, there are stretches where the South Pole gets minimal to no sunlight. Trees need sunlight for photosynthesis.

The animals and plants in AtLA aren't the same as those on Earth, but almost none of them have actual magical powers - by which I mean while they may be incredibly foreign to what lives on Earth, the animals and plants don't generally exhibit behaviors that would be otherwise inexplicable given their presented abilities, physiology, and habitat (exceptions being creatures like dragons, island sized lion turtles, etc). In regard to plants, the only plant that edges toward magical in AtLA (not LoK) that I can think of is the Banyon-grove Tree in the Foggy Swamp, but within the show, that's presented as being very unusual. Most of the creatures or plants that have magical elements are spirits/ connected to the spirits/ from the spirit world, rather than being a normal part of the human world.

Which brings us to the trees in the Southern Spirit Wilds. The problem with the Southern Spirit Wilds... is that Legend of Korra is a mess. A loveable mess, but a mess that is not consistent with the worldbuilding established in AtLA. Based on how LoK frames it, while attempting to interpret it in a way that aligns as much as possible with AtLA, the way the Southern Spirit Wilds works is that in a very limited area directly around the portal, there is some blurring of natural laws between the human world and the spirit world. Flora and fauna in the spirit world does not face the same restraints that they do in the human world, and so in the Spirit Wilds, because a bit of the spirit world is bleeding over, the plants and animals can behave in ways they otherwise would not be able to. In this case, impossible trees can grow.

tl;dr - I don't think your tree design is compatible with the geographical worldbuilding established in AtLA. However, I think you should use them in an original something (a short story? a book?) because they sound really cool and I haven't seen an idea like them before.

The Geography of the South Pole in AtLA vs. the Graphic Novels

Of the many inconsistencies between Avatar: the Last Airbender, and the graphic novels, there is a particular bit of world building that always bothers me; the geography of the South Pole.

In the first two episodes of AtLA, the viewer is introduced to the South Pole at almost peak summer. Sokka makes a reference to this when he first meets Aang:

Sokka: Giant light beams, flying bison, airbenders … I think I got midnight sun madness. I’m going home to where stuff makes sense.

“Midnight sun” is a term that describes how during the summer months places north of the Arctic Circle or south of the Antarctic Circle experience consecutive 24 hour periods of sunlight (so the sun is still out even though it’s midnight). From Sokka’s dialogue, it is explicitly summer. 

The two part episode “The Winter Solstice” takes place over episodes 7 and 8 of the first season, and occurs some weeks following the opening episode. It’s important to note that this refers to the winter solstice in the northern hemisphere, where the Gaang is at the time. Thus, the summer solstice is simultaneously occurring for the southern hemisphere.

Why spend time establishing that at the start of the series, the South Pole is experiencing the middle of their summer? Well, because it’s important you understand that the version of the South Pole we see is the South Pole at its warmest. At its warmest, Katara and Sokka go fishing surrounded by massive icebergs, snow and ice completely cover the ground, and the Southern Water Tribe has a wall and several buildings made entirely from snow. 

Continues after the cut.

Continuar lendo

[harrywritingsbyme]

The one about Y/n and her Stuffie

Based Off Of This Ask

And This One

This One Too

A/N: ITS BEEN OVER A FUCKING MONTH SINCE I LAST POSTEDDDD…but I’m backkkk🤪🥳😙😌it’s not the fic i originally planned on doing for my next piece, but since I’m currently in the middle of everything in my life rn, and this plot doesn’t have to be extremely thought out, i figured i’d do a hot lil fic for y’all. Enjoyy girliess...i hope it doesn't suckk🙃

When Harry came upstairs, he was expecting you to be doing just about anything besides what you were actually doing. As soon as he stepped foot into the doorway of the bedroom, Harry was stopped right in his tracks, completely focused on you, and beyond stunned at the sight in front of him. You were down to a tight little t-shirt and a little pair of panties, and you were humping one of the cute little stuffies he’d bought for you some time ago. You had your legs spread wide over the toy and both of your hands planted on the bed in front of you as you messily dug your cunt into the stuffed toy. Harry intently watched and listened as you tried to relieve yourself. He relished in the sounds of your desperate whines and moans, taking in all of your cries for daddy and how your pussy was in need of and completely throbbing for him. From where he was standing, Harry could clearly see how you were moving against the stuffed toy. You never let up with your movements, continuously digging your needy pussy into the stuffie. You were really intent on digging your clit into it and making sure to rub against the raised parts of the toy to get the most pleasure. And when you rubbed yourself just right, you’d go into a complete frenzy, trying to recreate and feel that exact feeling over and over again. 

As Harry stood there, not only could he not stop himself from pushing a hand into his pants to squeeze at his cock, Harry also had the inability to stop his mind from wandering and conjuring up all the things he could do to you in the position you were in. For starters, Harry could just picture himself coming up from behind you and pushing you down onto your front before tossing the stuffie away and replacing it with his cock. If he did that, Harry was certain that you’d have the loudest and prettiest screams and moans from being suddenly manhandled and from the sudden and intense pleasure. Harry also dreamt of you thrashing back and forth against his cock. Once you’re all done fighting with his cock and you’ve finally gotten all of him into that tight little entrance of yours, Harry could vividly picture you moving against him in the same way you’re moving against the stuffed toy. You’d have your hands planted on his chest and you’d be trying to get into a rhythm but you’d be quickly overcome by the pleasure and you’d just do whatever would give you the most pleasure. The vivid visuals of you moving on his cock are accompanied by the picture of your tits bouncing in front of his face. And the fact that he could see your pebbled nipples through your shirt only made the visual that much better. Those were just two of the many filth ridden thoughts that roamed Harry’s mind as he watched you. And with each and every one of these scenarios, while all being different from the last, you were gushing in no time, making a complete and very wet mess on the bed at the end of every one of them. 

Eventually, after a while of silently stalking you from across the room, Harry finally (and kind of begrudgingly) pulls his hand from his pants and makes his way over to the side of the bed where you were. He then brings a hand up to softly caress your cheek, to which you slightly jump from the sudden company. 

“What are you doing puppy?” He softly asks, watching as you continue to hump the stuffie between your legs.

“I can’t help it daddy! My clit hurts so good!” You pitifully slur, your eyes remaining snapped shut as you continue to move against the toy.

“Want daddy to make it stop hurting and feel good sweet girl?” Harry asks sweetly, continuing to stroke your cheek and watch you dig your clit into the stuffie, noticing you still had the jewel plug in from earlier in the day. 

“Please daddy! You can do anything you want just- m’throbbing so bad!” You whine in response, opening your eyes for the first time in Harry’s direction. Your eyes were all watery and he could see how bad you needed him and how subby you were feeling.

Without wasting anymore time, Harry swiftly maneuvers you both onto the bed. He pulls you down onto your back, completely abandoning the stuffie, before removing the little bit of clothes you had on from your body. He then proceeds to undress himself, practically ripping his clothes off before climbing between your legs. As soon as he does this, his attention shoots down between your legs to see what he was working with.

“Aww look, your little cunt is all swollen and sticky.” He coos, admiring how swollen and dripping you were for him. “So desperate; how pathetic.” He chuckles, bringing his hand down to pinch your puffy pussy lips between his index and thumb, getting his fingers covered in your juices. “What made you so needy baby?” Harry asks, keeping your pinched between his fingers as he lowers himself down between your legs.

“Just-“ You softly sigh, not wanting to give him the real, and slightly embarrassing answer.

“Just what?” He presses before bringing his mouth in and sticking his tongue out to lap up the juices that were spilling from the part where your two lips met. When he does this, you immediately try and snap your legs shut. But Harry stops you right in your tracks. “Close them and you won’t cum.” Harry simply, yet sternly replies, causing you to open your legs back up. “Good girl. But if you don’t answer, you won’t cum or get my cock.” Harry continues on.

“But daddy!” You whine, trying to get out of revealing why you were humping the stuffie not too long ago. 

“If you wanna cum, you better tell me. Or I could just suck on your swollen little button until you cry then jerk off right in front of you. It’s completely up to you.” You couldn’t argue with that ultimatum. In the state that you were in, the simple thought of not being able to cum made your eyes well up a little. 

“Fine…I was thinking about how good it felt when you took me after you pushed my princess plug in earlier.” You manage to finally spit out, struggling to do so from the way Harry kept squeezing your lips together. 

“So all of this is because my baby is a little cockslut.” Harry cockily relishes with a wide smirk spread across his face. “That makes it even better.” Harry hums before suckling on your clit. You didn’t even have the time to scream from how good his mouth felt because it only lasts a couple seconds before he’s letting go of your pussy lips and removing his mouth, moving himself back up your body. Stopping on the way up to sponge wet kisses onto your already pebbled nipples. Harry then attaches his lips to yours, trapping them into a sloppy, lust filled kiss. You let Harry do most of the work, keeping your mouth open and moving your lips against his. As he kissed you, you could hear Harry’s shaky breaths and moans, and you could feel him rutting his cock against your sticky cunt. This only made you need him more than you already did. You wanted to move around and try and push him inside, but Harry had you trapped pretty good. All you could do was move your head around a bit. So that’s what you did, you moved your head to the side, causing Harry’s mouth to break away from yours.

“Need you daddy!” You beg, wrapping your hand around Harry’s bicep that was right by your head.

“Y’always needing me, you’re my little cockslut remember?” Harry coos into your ear, using his other hand to blindly line himself up with your soaking entrance. “All you can think about is me splitting your little pussy apart to fit all of my cock in there.” Harry begins, bringing his hips in to start filling you up. “All you can think about is being pounded until I’m done using your pathetic little hole.” Harry grunts into your ear, bringing the other arm up to rest against the bed near your head. “I bet you like feeling completely powerless when I’m fucking into you.” Harry groans, feeling your tight walls around him as he practically pries them apart with his large cock. As Harry speaks and fills you up, you’re losing your mind below him. Not only are you losing the ability to even think, you’re also feeling and relishing in the pleasurable sting that came along with Harry’s cock and the full feeling that came along with it as well. On top of feeling incredibly needy, you were feeling subby as well, which only intensified the feeling and caused you to use your stuffie. All you could do was dig your nails into his biceps that were almost cradling your head and whimper as Harry made sure you felt everything he gave you.

Once he’s fully inside, Harry goes right into pounding you. And he doesn’t let up. He continuously slams his hips down into yours, pushing his cock all the way up inside of you again and again. With every thrust, there was a flick to your clit. He’d always come down, in, and up, causing you to feel everything inside and out. On top of all that, Harry had his mouth right up to your ear and you could hear his beyond animalistic growls. He kept asking you ‘Is this what you wanted?’ and he kept telling you how good of a fuck and cockslut you were and that he loved destroying you. 

Harry was on cloud nine to say the least. He had worked himself up enough leading up to this moment that he could be cumming any second now. But he decided to hold off a little longer. Not only were your insides, your perfect little walls feeling even more amazing, but he was enjoying being able to fuck you like this, all rough and filthy while you were feeling all small and subby. When you were like this, Harry would go on a bit of a power trip and just degrade you and fuck you any which way he wanted. And on top of that, he got to hear your whimpers and cries from how good it all felt in the process. With the position he had you two in, the same way his growls were clear in your ears, Harry’s able to clearly hear your cries and whimpers from how good it all felt. Harry thought your loopy moans and whimpers were music to his ears. He even heard you call yourself daddy’s cockslut, which only made him go even harder on your pussy.

“Please daddy! I need t’cum!” You whimper, holding on to his biceps for dear life as young for him to let you finally cum. Even though you weren’t being that good of a girl earlier when you were using the stuffie, you didn’t cum, which is a big rule of Harry’s, especially when you haven’t gotten permission. So you’d been holding this release for a long time now and you were dying to just let go already!

“Awww, does my baby’s pathetic little pussy need to cum around daddy’s big cock.” Harry coos patronizingly, continuing his never ending thrusts. 

“Can’t hold it anymore daddy!” You cry, beginning to squirm underneath his tight grip from how much this orgasm was consuming you.

“Go ahead doll, show me how much of a little cockwhore you are for daddy.” Harry pants into your ear before lifting himself up from on top of you, stopping to spit down into your mouth as he sits up. Harry then begins to feel your walls rapidly pulsating and convulsing around his cock. And to follow up, a warm stream of your juices begin to gush out of you, getting Harry and the sheets wet. But you were too busy feeling absolutely amazing to even care. Harry was in awe at how much you were squirting and he thought you looked absolutely adorable as you came around him. He also felt very riled up and anxious to have a similar release of his own. 

Once he feels like he’s given you enough time to ride the seismic waves of your release, Harry dives right back in, not skipping a beat with his intense thrusts.

“Can’t anymore daddy!” You cry out to him, trying your hardest to close your legs around him and push his body away from between your legs as you were just coming down from your first high and were already feeling another powerful release quickly building inside the kind of sore pit of of your stomach. 

“But you said you wanted it doll.” Harry reminds through his teeth as he pries your legs back apart. “You were so caught up in being a little cockslut you forgot about what you agreed to.” Harry chuckles down at you. He resumes his thrusts and then proceeds to slap your clit a couple of times, causing you to have mini releases, squirting onto him back to back with every slap he delivered to your clit. “Messy little slut aren’t you. Look at how much you squirt when I destroy your pussy.” Harry moans, continuing to deliver a couple more sting filled slaps to your oh so sensitive button, garnering a few more screams and squirts of your warm juices to his lower body. 

Harry then flips you onto your front, to which he pushes your legs apart a little more before sitting on top of them to keep you down before wrapping his hands around your hips and plunging back into you. You were already worn out so he didn’t exactly have to pin you down. As he fucks into you, Harry can feel his overwhelming release beginning to overtake all of his senses in the exact same way yours did. He began to feel even more pressure in the pit of his stomach as his impending release mounted and mounted, waiting to be released. 

When he’s just a mere minutes away from his release, Harry lays himself down on your back, keeping his mouth close to your ear as he sloppily delivers his final thrusts. You could feel him sucking on the area right below your ear as he reached the hilt of his release.

“And if there has to be one thing I love most about having you as my needy little cockslut, it’d have to be the fact you keep my cum all save and warm in that perfect little honey pot between your legs.” Harry growls before unloading every last drop of his cum into you. Your body was a complete and quivering mess as you took all of Harry’s heavy load, and as you gushed all over him and the bed for the second time. 

Masterlist

[scribbling-dragon]

okay, so, i was thinking about my vigilante au again, but for s2 of empires instead. bc i’ve accepted that i won’t ever write a longfic for the original au, and i probably won’t for this either

so! delving into my thoughts:

it would occur in a similar setting, with the characters attending a sixth-form college (which i’ve got a name for!) while also being vigilantes on the side (because the name “vigilante au” didn’t give that away at all)

- we’ve got jimmy, who would probably be the main focus of this au if i did ever write something (sorry scott, jimmy brainrot is big rn), and he’d be a moobloom hybrid, i feel, just to change it up slightly from my other s2 projects. i’m not sure what type of moobloom he’d be yet, but he’d probably be some kind of flower that can survive well in a hot climate

- anyway! i feel like he’d be doing some kind of environmental science based stuff, or stuff to work towards that (not at all projecting. nope) which means he’d probably be doing geography, chemistry and biology.

- with the kind of power he has, i’m torn between some kind of plant based power (which he could have a small hint of anyway? being a moobloom and all?) or some kind of earth based power (like terrakinesis, because he could do a bunch of cool stuff with that, i reckon)

- his vigilante name would just be the Sheriff. the local police hate him, because he runs around in his dumb outfit with his stupid bandit “friend” (you know i had to do it) and they’re doing their jobs for them smh

- he definitely has a rivalry with Electrostatic (idk, messing around with names for joel’s vigilante persona??), who is someone that has lightning based powers, and seems to find some kind of amusement in tormenting him.

- he has a complicated relationship with the Protector (sausage) because the Protector is technically his ally, but he is also technically Electrostatic’s ally as well.

- on the other hand, sausage and joel are friends, who both help out with tutoring a few kids, one of whom them share: Hermes! yeah, he’s in this au. they try and outdo each other with the prizes they give their students, because Hermes always boasts to the other students about what the other one gave him when he was good, so they’ve obviously gotta do better than the other tutor

- scott seems like he’d be going for some kind of plant based power (which is why i didnt want jimmy to grab that) and he would definitely use it to get a bunch of rare dyes. i feel like he’d take textiles and art, at the very least, maybe maths to go with it idk (he gives off art teacher vibes this season ngl)

- i feel like katherine would have some kind of luck based power, in which she can manipulate the probability of events happening, and this would be really really good if she could fully understand how it works and stop losing her focus with it and causing her pen to explode in the middle of class.

- i feel like gem would be some kind of governor’s daughter, and they’re really protective over her, telling her constantly how she needs to be careful because she could get hurt. so as a massive fuck you to her parents she goes out as the Dawn Princess in the late hours of the evening and beats up criminals. for funsies

- (also the bandit friend is 100% tango, you knew i had to add him) other characters will be from the life series/hermitcraft too! i gotta add my other blorbos in :]

those are the ideas i’ve had for now, but feel free to send in asks for this au :D

[monocaelia]

royalty au headcanons

what they would be in a royalty au and the sweet moments shared with them.

feat. albedo, childe, diluc, kaeya, venti

genre : fluff, slight angst in childe's

❀ albedo

albedo is the royally appointed painter of your family. he's in charge of painting all of the portraits of the royal family, which is well deserved. the blond artist's brush strokes and painting techniques make all of his works of art feel so alive, almost as if they could walk out of the canvas they were painted on and live amongst the people.

he prides in his works, always making sure each square inch of each painting absolutely perfect before presenting it to the royal family. even if they were already perfect to begin with. but, as they say, you're your own worst critic.

from since you were both young, he was hired by your family to teach you the basics of the arts as well as how to properly hold a brush.

so, you could say albedo has watched you grow from a grubby child to the elegant and refined person you grew up to be. an honor, really, to watch the stars in your eyes grow brighter and brighter with each passing year.

"ah, you've messed up the brush stroke here," albedo's gentle voice points out the mistake in your technique. your ears burn from having your mistakes pointed out, but you know it's for the best. you clear your throat and try to fix it, only to have albedo sigh from beside you.

"like this, your highness." before you can even react, you feel the heat from albedo's chest radiating against your back and your hand is encased in his own. he guides your hand with his, making the brush you're holding glide smoothly across the canvas.

his hand is cold, you think to yourself, and you wonder if he's been maintaining his health properly. but in contrast to his hand, his breath is warm against your ear as he talks you through the painting technique.

it's hard to focus when you're feeling overstimulated from the proximity of the blond painter and the rather domestic position you're in; almost as if your entire body is being embraced by the artist you grew up with.

"understand, your highness?" his quiet voice breaks your thoughts. he's close to you... so close. you gulp, praying to the archons above that albedo couldn't feel your hands shaking from this entire exchange.

"i thought you were supposed to call me by my name when we're alone together, albedo," you stutter out shakily. it's then that albedo realizes the position the two of you are in. his teal eyes widen slightly in surprise and his ears begin to burn a light pink. the artist pulls away, muttering a small apology to you.

though, albedo has to admit that having you in his arms, albeit for painting, felt so nice. from the position he was in, albedo could have counted the thousands of stars that your eyes held; and he would do anything to see them again.

❀ childe

ajax became a knight of your kingdom from a young age. he was always bored from the day to day schedule of his familial job; he wanted more and nothing could satiate the need to do something, anything that could give him the exhilaration that he needed.

which being in the knights provided for him. from learning how to properly wield a sword, to sparring with the best knights in your kingdom, to being a master at any and all weapons in your artillery, the ginger haired knight loved every second. he always felt alive when wielding his weapon, always grinning ear to ear when he's sparring for fun.

despite being a terrifying machine of war, ajax would never betray your family, let alone you. he swore an oath to protect everyone in the kingdom when he joined the knights, and that included you. the one who has watched him since he was a clumsy knight in training, fixed up his injuries, and wiped his tears away when he was frustrated with himself.

the call of ajax's name alerts him of your presence along with the quick pads of your shoes against the pavement. said male turns to look at you, smile big and bright on his face. "your highness! fancy seeing you here so late. did you miss me that mu-"

"is it true?" you interrupt him. your furrowed brows and frown etched onto your features contrast against the bright expression on the knight's. ajax's smile falters a bit when you stop in front of him, holding your arm and biting your lip in concern. "is it true that you're going to fight in the war?"

ajax blinks, stunned at your question. but he laughs lowly, not helping you in your concerned state. "of course, why wouldn't i? i made an oath to protect you, your family, and the people. it's my duty to go to the front lines."

his cerulean eyes stare into your own. you take a breath, hesitating on what to say or do next. ajax assumes you're going to scold him for throwing himself into the pits of danger, assumes that you're going to yell at him because when he fights he fights with no care to his own body. he would power on through the fight until he physically wasn't capable anymore.

"would you stay with me if i asked you to?"

your question surprises the ginger knight. out of all things that you could have done or said, he wasn't expecting this.

his finger strokes your cheek, sliding forward until your jaw rests in the palm of his hand. ajax gives you a smile, endearing yet bittersweet. he wants to stay here with you, to see your annoyed expression when he ends up hurting himself again or the huge smile on your face when he does something dumb.

but duty calls. and you know that.

his heart falls when you sigh and pull away from his touch. but it flutters again when he feels something hard press into the palm of his hand, your own covering his.

"then, promise me you won't die out there, ajax. take this lucky charm of mine and stay safe. i'll miss you."

you plant a quick kiss on his freckled cheek and run off before he could see you cry. unfolding his hands, he's greeted with the delicate, red mask you've placed in his hands.

❀ diluc

being the heir to the throne of your own family makes it hard to miss the prince of the neighboring kingdom. prince diluc is a stoic and hard to please person. every time you've seen him in passing at royal balls, he has always had a frown or blank expression on his face.

but, despite what his outer expression and appearance shows, the young prince is a kind and gentle individual. at least to you. in contrast to how stoic he is with others, his warmth is always welcoming and comforting to you. if he's being honest, you're one of the few people, if not the only person, who has witnessed the genuine yet small smile of prince diluc.

when he has the time off, he writes letters to you, often complaining about how useless the knights and how he would rather work alone. but he never fails to indulge you about the little things that have happened since the last time he has spoken to you. how he misses seeing you and that the next time you visit he would take you to a beautiful meadow he passed by on one of his scouts around mondstadt.

you, his only friend who sees the young prince as who he is, and not what the rumors, nor what his title says he is.

"thought i'd see you out here." diluc's ears perk at the familiar cadence of your voice. his eyes that held the warmth of fire flit up to look at you, and his breath is taken away. underneath the gentle glow of the moon, you're practically glowing in front of him. with rich, beautiful silks covering your body and a comforting smile quirking your lips up.

"what are you doing out here? it's cold out here, and the party's inside, [name]," he scolds you. diluc's expression deadpans when you stick your tongue out the corner of your mouth and shrug. when a cold breeze flows through and you physically shiver, the red haired prince sighs and slides off his coat, throwing it over your shoulders.

"i could say the same to you. besides, i saw you out here looking lonely and like a fool, so i thought it would be nice to join you. so you don't look so pathetic." it takes everything in the young prince to not take his jacket back from you and march back inside the palace with the intolerable guests. "i'm kidding! but not about the lonely part. are you alright?"

the playful glint in your eyes disappears in that moment, captivating diluc yet again. he could never outright tell you this, but your eyes are the most beautiful he has ever seen. filled with actual starlight and twinkling with fondness for the awkward prince.

"yeah, just a bit overwhelmed with the guests inside."

you hum in response to him. "well. why don't i keep you company then? from one royal to another. we don't have to say anything, but having someone with you is comforting, right?" ruby eyes widen when you step forward and grab onto his hands, intertwining them. he hopes his cheeks aren't as red as they feel and that you can't see his blush despite the proximity.

"r-right. as long as it's just you, [name]."

maybe the young prince will find the courage to be more forward with you, ask to court you with a bouquet if your favorite flowers and a love letter slipped in between the petals. but for now, he finds solace in your company and your gentle hand laced with his.

❀ kaeya

the origins of how kaeya ended up in your kingdom's calvary is an enigma. no one is quite sure where he had come from, nor had any idea who he trained under considering he was an exceptional equestrian and sword fighting on horseback came so easy to him. every time anyone asked him about his background or history, the blue haired knight would always brush it off and redirect the conversation to something else.

despite having a mysterious background, kaeya still ended up captain of your calvary not too long after he joined your kingdom. though, anyone could have expected it considering he easily outwitted the previous calvary captain in their own sparring sessions.

during his time there, you can't admit that kaeya hasn't caught your eye. he's handsome; his laughter and taunts while sparring with the other knights sends butterflies to your stomach. charismatic and always lightly teasing you whenever you drop by the knight's hall made it difficult to suppress the rhythmic thrum of your heart.

"oh come on, your highness. don't tell me you're getting cold feet now." the smirk on kaeya's face only grows when you send him a glare. he finds it amusing that you're still trying to stand your ground despite your evident fear of the horse in front of you. "i thought you knew how to mount a horse."

the calvary captain snickers when you tell him that you are going to, that you're just not familiar with his horse. his sapphire eye follows your movements and form a crescent when his horse turns her head to look at you.

as you try and muster out an explanation on why you were startled, kaeya takes this time to slide his hands underneath your arms and hoists you up above the horse. your leg slips over the saddle of the pure white mare and you yelp in surprise at the sudden motion.

before you can yell at kaeya for not warning you, the calvary captain climbs onto the saddle behind you. because of the limited space on his horse, the blue haired knight's chest is pressed against your back and his arms encase you so that he could properly hold onto the reins.

"cat got your tongue, your highness? there's no need to be so scared, i won't let you fall. well, unless you're being more unpleasant than usual. don't blame me if you end up on the floor."

laughter surrounds you when you yell at the calvary captain to 'stop messing around.' he can't help it; kaeya loves riling you up and hearing his name slip from your lips regardless of if it's in between fits of giggles or out of anger when he teases you one too many times.

from the position you're in, you aren't able to witness the endearing look that adorns kaeya's visage when you calm down and lean into his touch as soon as his mare starts moving.

❀ venti

there's nothing that suits venti more than being associated with music in some way, shape, or form. he's a well known musician around your kingdom; knowing at least the basics of every instrument known to man and having every song he has ever heard by memory.

rumors around your kingdom flutter around, saying that hearing a song sung by venti himself could cure almost any disease because of how angelic and healing his voice is. of course, it's not true but the young bard likes to play along with it. anything to get free drinks at the local bar, right?

there's no surprise that your family hired the bard to become your piano tutor. but cheeky smiles, poetic songs regarding the beauty of nature, and lyrical poetry of the beauty you hold make it hard for you to not fall for the playful virtuoso.

a delicate melody drifts down the halls of the castle, elegant staccato piano cords resonate in each other's harmony. your fingers deftly glide over the ivory keys, eyes closed and letting your memory guide you through the piece.

beside you, venti plays your counterpart with a gentle smile on his face. a contrast to the beautiful, yet complicated composition that was being performed.

it was his idea to learn this rather tedious piano duet; you thought it was too difficult because of the complicated melodic line and technical harmonies. you recall many nights filled with frustrated tears and crumpled silk from trying to perfect the melody given to you; and venti's gentle voice as he consoled you during those nights and urged you to rest.

before you know it, the piano duet ends with a final statement of the tonic harmony. silence settles into the room as the final chord resonates in the empty concert hall, only to be broken when you shout victoriously.

"your highness, that was a wonderful performance!" venti congratulates you with a proud smile on his lips. the percussive beat in his chest accelerates when you beam at him, the candlelight making your eyes gleam as if they held the entire universe in them.

"it's all thanks to you, venti! oh gosh, i'm so proud of us i could almost kiss you!" the statement leaves your mouth without thinking and leaves the both of you stunned. one, two, three beats of silence and on the fourth you begin to stutter out an apology with a flustered expression on your face.

venti's airy, light laugh fills your ears and echoes against the vast walls of the concert hall. you want to dig yourself in a hole and hide for the rest of your life.

"and what if i take you up on that offer, your highness? or should i call you [name] now? a kiss ending this performance of ours would be way better than a bow, don't you think?"

[camels-pen]

a blanket for three

Summary:

Picnic dates are a lot harder to organize than Tucker thought. He can't complain with the results though.

For @ghost-pasta's DP Valentine's prompt list Day 5: strawberry

Ao3 Link

~

Now though, Danny could only marvel at the beautiful scenery. The fields of grass lightly swaying in the wind with not a patch of sand in sight. The island’s miniature sun beaming down on the plant life where it floats in the swirling green sky, providing warmth to all under its rays. The large yet sparse acacia trees in the distance. The… camels?

He put on a short burst of speed and when he saw a familiar figure on the beach, he took a nonsensical route for a few moments, letting his tail light up with ecto-energy before flying down to stand in front of them. The bright green letters, several shades brighter than the sky and practically blinding, made the woman on the island wince lightly before pulling out a pair of sunglasses from under her cloak.

“‘I heart you’?” Sam snorted, a fond smile growing on her face. “Dork.” Danny smiled. She glanced at the blanket in his arms and raised an eyebrow. Danny’s smile grew wider as he unfurled the plaid blanket.

“Just like old times, right? I asked one of the seamstresses to make it.” His smile faltered slightly. “Uh, where’s—?”

“HERE! I’m here, I am… right here,” Tucker said, panting as he pulled himself out of a small sand dune not far from them. “Just… just give me a second.” He leaned his hands on his knees, bracelets and necklaces jingling as he struggled to catch his breath.

“How far did you go?” Sam asked, concerned.

Tucker waved her off, though he didn’t protest Danny dusting sand off his shoulders and hair. He spit out a few grains of sand before replying, “Just… the other side… of the island.” He groaned. “God, I wish I could fly. Sand movement is so wack.”

Danny laughed, surprised. “Holy shit, I haven’t heard that in so long.”

Tucker furrowed his eyebrows. “It hasn’t been that long since it’s been popular.”

“Nope, that’s a straight retro meme, Tuck. Hasn’t been used in decades,” Sam said with a smirk as Tucker gaped. “Oh how the technogeek has fallen.”

Tucker shook his head. “Okay but that is actually a retro meme. Wack isn’t retro.”

“Considering it was popular after we finished college, I’m gonna have to disagree with you.”

“No, nuh uh, I refuse. I’m in the right here.” Tucker pulled out a small metal bracelet. “Here, I’ll look it up and show you.” He pressed a button and a 3D display popped up in front of them. After typing in a few key words, Tucker pulled up the date of origin.

“There, 2012,” he said, smug. “Never doubt me again.”

Sam made a confused face. “It’s gotta be older than that.”

“He’s right Sam, look.” Danny’s voice trembled with laughter. “It was popularized in 2014 by”—he snorted—“‘your butthole’.”

Tucker rolled his eyes. “Oh real mature Mr. two-hundred-year-old-king.”

“I never claimed to be mature,” he said as he continued to fail at reigning in his laughter.

The sound of a small bell chiming caused Danny to look around. “Uh, did you guys hear that?”

“Oh nice, that means they’re done. Thanks, D.” Tucker gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Did you guys have your stuff?”

“Yup. One large blanket, big enough for three people.” Danny held up the fabric for Tucker. “And I’m pretty sure Sam will just conjure up the right flowers for us once she sees the scene.”

“Nope.” The two men turned to her. She nudged at the sandy ground with her boot and three small cacti of varying heights of shapes popped out. “Already made them. A Fine Sands specialty. Usually takes an assload of work to grow a cactus even with my powers so I waited until I got here, but, as you can see, they need a bit more time to get bigger. And I can’t move them right now or I might mess up their growth so I’ll have to poof them near us when they’re done.” She huffed.

“Oooooh, can’t wait to see them fully bloomed. They’ll probably look great, and it’ll fit in well with whatever Tuck has in store. Oh and by the way,”—he pulled out a small cylindrical container from his shirt pocket—“Ellie sent me over with some tea she’s been growing in the garden. She said it’s good for digestion, so uh, tell me now if you’re gonna try killing me with spicy food again.”

Tucker’s face blanked for a moment before he buried it in his hands. “Fuck.”

“Ah, you forgot.” Sam patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll just grow something.” She pulled a few seeds from her belt and threw them on the ground a few feet away. With a wave of her hand, she made a small patch of fertile soil and coaxed the seeds under the top layer and with a snap of her fingers a fully grown strawberry bush burst from the ground in an instant. Tucker gaped at the sight before flailing his arms.

“You can grow strawberries here?!” he all but shouted. “Why didn’t I know that?!”

“Because it’s extremely difficult. They hate hot and dry climates. I can do it because—” she waved a hand at her belt with numerous pockets and then gestured at her whole body.

Tucker whined. “Oh come on!” Danny patted the top of his head while Sam plucked the berries and tied them up in the blanket.

“Don’t worry about that right now. Let’s just get going.” Danny scooped Tucker up into his arms to which the man responded by sticking his face in Danny’s shoulder.

“No, just let me die in my shame.”

“Literally impossible, but okay.” Sam gripped the tied up blanket in one arm and threw the other around Danny’s neck. As Danny started floating upwards, his tail curling tight around her waist, Sam added, “Where are we going exactly?”

Tucker finally extricated himself from his shame bubble and gave approximate directions beyond a mountain peak.

“High ho, ghost horse, onward,” Sam said as she hiked herself up further on Danny’s back, wrapping her legs around his semi-wispy waist.

After carefully adjusting his precious cargo for a safer trip, Danny spoke up, “Fast, medium, or flashy?”

“Can’t we just go slow?”

“Not an option today, sorry.”

Tucker groaned. “Fine, medium.”

“You got it, boo.” Tucker groaned louder, but closed his eyes and leaned into the long smooch on his head. “One medium, no flash, coming right up.”

In a little less than half an hour, they touched down on the other side of the island where a large grass field stretched as far as the eye could see. Tucker instructed Danny to put them down by the shade under a large acacia tree.

As Sam set down the blanket and started smoothing down the edges while keeping the strawberries in the center, Danny took the time to really appreciate the landscape.

He hadn’t been to this part of the Fine Sands in a few years since most of the time, the three of them tended to spend time in Danny’s plush, not sand filled castle or Sam’s traveling cabin. Not that Tucker’s palace wasn’t fancy and filled with comfy furniture and fabrics, but the guy himself tended to prefer not being there at all. If it wasn’t for the whole ‘reincarnation of a famous pharaoh’ thing that kept him tied to the island, Danny suspected Tucker would’ve moved in with one of them or switched between their places for the rest of eternity. Not that that was a problem for him, but it meant he and Sam usually didn’t see much of the island despite the many decades they’d spent living in the Infinite Realms.

Now though, Danny could only marvel at the beautiful scenery. The fields of grass lightly swaying in the wind with not a patch of sand in sight. The island’s miniature sun beaming down on the plantlife where it floats in the swirling green sky, providing warmth to all under its rays. The large yet sparse acacia trees in the distance. The… camels?

Danny knew, logically, that there were ghost animals living on the island. He also knew there were a few camels roaming around, but… “Is this every camel in the Fine Sands?” he asked, eyeing the hundred something camels roaming around and enjoying their own meals or simply resting by a small watering hole.

“Every ghost camel,” Tucker corrected before grumbling, “The living camels are all wimps and kept demanding more shit. I mean we don’t even ride them and they roam free wherever they please—”

“How long did it take you to get them all to come here?” Sam grimaced. “How many times did you have to move under the sand?”

Tucker sighed. “Too many times. They were spread out all over. The farmers helped though.” He shook his head. “But that’s not important. Y’know what is important?” He pulled Sam and Danny down to sit on the blanket and splayed himself over their laps with a satisfied grin.

Sam chuckled. “Alright, message received.” She used one hand to run her fingers through his curly black locks and the other to loosely tug Danny to lean on her side before running hands through his glowing white hair as well.

Both boys practically melted against her. Danny hugged her around the waist with one arm and pressed a soft kiss to her neck before nuzzling his face into her shoulder. He reached out with his other hand to intertwine with Tucker’s and squeezed lightly. Tucker used his thumb to rub circles on the back of Danny’s hand and left his free hand to reach for a strawberry and hold it up for Sam to eat.

Sam hummed her thanks before asking about how things have been going for the boys. They kept up the conversation, except for a few pauses from Danny blowing raspberries in Sam’s neck to disagree with her, which resulted in giggles that jostled her hand from Tucker’s hair, which resulted in whining and tugging at Danny’s hand in retaliation. This all went on and on in a cycle of mild annoyance that left the trio laughing loudly and pulling away briefly to recompose themselves before winding around each other again.

The three spent the rest of the day feeding each other strawberries and relaxing under the shade talking about nothing in particular. The camels continued grazing, undisturbed with the nearby picnic date. Eventually, Danny, Sam, and Tucker became a pile of cuddly limbs and fell asleep with full bellies, content smiles, and tangled up with their favorite people.

-

End note!

The cacti didn’t finish growing by the time Danny and Sam needed to get back to their responsibilities, but neither of the boys were hung up about it and Tucker said they could come over for another date when the cacti do bloom.

[darylsgirl]

I was claimed by Daryl Fucking Dixon NSFW 18+ Daryl Dixon & Reader

Summary: 

Your sick of waiting for Daryl to make a move or even speak to you and decide to dress up to do your chores hoping you’ll catch his eye.

You manage more than that He gets jealous when other men/ and one woman ;) show an interest and he admits he’s wanted you all this time an roughly claims you.

*Heyyy to anyone who reads this! If anyone reads this Haha, This is my first ever attempt at fan fic and it kind of got away from me and is a lot more intense than i thought it would be! If there’s anything you don’t like about this please feel free to tell me! I’d love to improve for my next one :) Hope y’all are having a great day wherever you are :)*

How long had it been? Since the end of it all? 

Since all those carefree nights we used to stay up drink, party & Fuck. 

Months? Years? 

It felt like all time stood still when He found me. 

I was alone, Terrified & hiding in an abandoned liquor store when I heard them, I Snuck to the window and saw the biggest herd of walkers I had ever seen. I made sure all the bottle’s i had scavenged were wrapped up in my clothes to dampen the noise and waited for a break in the herd so I could make a run for it to my bike just across the road. After what felt like hours there it was my chance i put my hand on the door handle but before I was even able to twitch the handle,  I felt a hand clamp over my mouth and drag me backwards away from my chance of escape. 

“Fuck you think your doin girl, Tryna get yourself eaten!” I stared up at the man before me with his hand still over my mouth. His angry eyes met mine and I stopped fighting gazing up into those piercing blue eyes. That was the last thing I saw before the pistol came down on my temple. 

I woke with a bag over my head and my wrists bound, I was in a car and I could hear the engine stopping and the brakes kicking in ‘Shit’ . I thought I had no time to think of a way out of this. Two doors slammed shut and I could hear two men arguing.

“Answer me, Fuck did you hit her for Merle. She’s only a girl she couldn’t av ‘urt us, She looked me in ma eyes. There was no fight just fear” 

“Bitch had it comin Daryl, Tryna kill hersel and take us with her” 

“Did’n even no we were there, Or are you that shit of a hunter yous unable to sneak up on people naw, Stop being an asshole and get the fuck outta ma way” 

The car boot opened and someone lifted me out by putting a hand under my knees and one under my head cradling me, he held me tightly with my head in his chest. I inhaled and could smell his manly scent, It was intoxicating, He held me for a moment more before he set on my feet; next the bag was ripped off my face. Instinctively I winced waiting to see if the light would blind me but all was still dark around and i could see we were in a forest.  The man with the mesmerising eyes gripped my arm and started walking me into the woods. 

A logical person would feel fear at this point but there was something about those eyes, I just trusted him.

“Got a lil way’s to go, ya ok walkin? Or you need me to carry you rest of the ways?” His southern drawl mixed with those blue eyes made my knees go weak. I stumbled slightly then stood again and kept one foot in front of the other. I nodded to the man that I was ok and kept going. 

Fifteen minutes later we arrived at the edge of a camp, A few people rushed forward “Shit what happened to her?” “Has she been bit?” “Why is her head covered in blood?” “Where did you find her?”

Daryl rolled his eyes and replied “Merle, No she aint, Merle again annnd liquor store.” He said the last answer with a smirk. 

I scowled at the pair and dropped my mouth open to throw a few choice words their way when I was stopped by Merle grabbing me and spinning me round to face him, He moved some hair out of my face, fingers lingering near my mouth and said.

“Girl looks mighty fine to me, Pretty face not messed up, not one bit! And I do love me a pretty face sweetheart” he winked at me moving his hand from my mouth to my throat he pulled me close to him wrapping his other arm around my back to pull our pelvises close together so I could feel his growing erection against my stomach. “How about it honey” He said winking again  

I drew my head back with the intention of smashing his nose, When we were tackled to the floor Merle was pulled away from me and i rolled onto my back and back on to my feet, I looked back at the two brothers and saw Daryl’s hand smashing into his brothers face whilst he was shouting “I’ll mess up your face you asshole” 

Daryl was dragged off Merle by two men, Merle got to his feet and laughed “It’s allllll good baby bro, I’ll forget about this, this time. I know how feral you get when you see a pussy you wanna claim.”

Daryl locked eyes with me as Merle said this then spat at the ground at Merle’s Feet He picked up his crossbow off the ground and stormed off towards the woods shouting “Man forget ya, I had enough of your shit for one night” over his shoulder. 

That was months ago now, That night the group took me in and took care of me and I took care of them. We moved from the original camp to the CDC then a farm and now we are in a prison in Georgia. The prison has been good to us so far, there was that run in with a crazy guy who called himself the governor and we lost a few of our family. But we persevered and built this place into a home and soon started bringing in new people to help run our home and join our family. 

In the time i had been with this group i had noticed there were a lot of frustrated people here, Especially the men, I can’t get through a day without some proposition or another. I also can’t say that I didn't enjoy the attention, It had been awhile since I had felt another's hands on my body and I craved it, I craved it more than air at times and the person I craved it the most from had decided to pretend I didn't exist. But that didn’t stop me from going to bed each night with my wandering hands and relieving my aching pussy with the thoughts of his hands exploring my body and that voice groaning in my ear. Hit the spot every time. 

There had been a few men that had caught my attention but after a few conversations and meet ups with each they all started to pretend i didn’t exist the same as he had. I didn’t even get so much as a kiss from any of the fuckers and when i decided to confront them and ask why they refused to tell me and walked away. 

It had hit summer here and i had hit my breaking point, I’d had enough of being passed over and wasn’t going to take this shit anymore, I was going to make them all regret not taking me up on the opportunity when it was there for the taking.

I woke early for my shift in the fields the next morning, Still thoroughly determined to set my plan in motion I grabbed my knife and a set of clothes and set to work. I cut most of the legs off my jeans and the sleeves from my Tartan shirt. I pulled the jean shorts on and folded the legs over so they became tighter and pushed my already perky ass up. I then pulled my shirt on forgoing the usual under shirt and tied the two sides closed in a knot above my belly button so my slim waist was on display. I buttoned one button above the knot so that not too much of my bra was showing; Turning it from slutty to sexy. I pulled on my best brown cowboy boots. Combed my hair out. I was very lucky to have thick wavy hair that rarely required me doing anything with it. I just let it dry and brush, I grabbed Maggie’s make up bag and applied a small amount of make up just to accentuate my natural features.Smiling at myself in the mirror this was perfect, Let's see that southern shit ignore me now. Or any of the others for the matter. 

I sauntered out of my cell into the main block and walked the long way through the middle of everyone taking extra care to have a bounce in my step to make my boobs bounce nicely and swayed my hips more to make my ass jiggle as I walked. I greeted everyone in the same way i usually would with cheery “Good Morning’s” Instantly i felt eyes roaming my body and not just the male’s which made me grin I was happy either way. A few let out low whistles and I winked in return. This felt great. I want to feel this way every day, my pussy had soaked my panties by the time I had made it out of the block and into the yard I was panting with need. 

I took a few minutes to calm my breathing before continuing out towards the field, I glanced at the guard tower to make sure he was here today keeping watch, When i saw his leather vest and his longish wavy hair my breath quickened again, Shit it was going to be hard to get through today without a little relief, It took everything i had not to rush up the guard tower and beg him for it, Instead i continued over to the field, waiting until i was in his vision before looking up smiling and waving. Sure enough there he was binoculars in his hand staring down at me. I grinned again, wiggled my fingers at him and sauntered away from the tower. 

Luck was with me today and I was set to work on the potatoes which were planted in a perfect view of the guard house. I made sure to always face the tower when just sitting working so he had the frontal view and when I needed to bend up or down I turned my back to him so he got a great view of my ass. Everything I did that day I made sure to find some way to make it sexier. More than a few men came to bring me water or talk to me that day i gave each of them a big grin, Laughed and put my hand on their arms and send them on their way enough to make them feel there could be a chance, I felt Fucking powerful. 

At the end of the day i saw Maggie making her way over to me with a backpack over her shoulder, “Y/N I gots you a gift” she said in a sing song voice “from Merle of all people” she laughed and pulled out two big bottles of Merle’s special moonshine “I guess someone saw your production today sugar” She giggled a bit more handed you a bottle and settled down on the grass next to you. 

Daryl

Ever since Merle and me brought Y/N back to the group with us she’s been a literal pain in my pants, I'm surprised my cock was even capable of a hard on at this point as it feels like it hasn't gone down in months. So far i have managed to stay away from her as i wasn’ gonna let no bitch get the better of me and i wasn’ going to let fuckin Merle be right. 

My mind wandered back to her again when i started my shift in the guard tower that morning, I considered going into the office to rub one out but decided i'd be on the balcony waiting, I always made sure i got the shifts in this tower when she was being put in the fields, Watching her sweating down there in the heat was good enough to get me off later in the night when i was alone in the office. I lived out of this tower now as I liked it better alone even now with Merle being back in the prison, I didn’ need his shit talking around me at all hours. Not when I had my own entertainment. 

There she was right on time to interrupt me from my thoughts, Holy shit what was she fucking wearing. I grabbed my binoculars to get a closer look, When i found her again with them she was almost fucking naked by the looks of it! In tiny shorts and an even smaller top, From this vantage point i had the best view straight in her bra, I kept my eyes on her all day fuck the perimeter it’ll be fine and i’m sure some weak ass will scream and let me know. 

I watched her all day as she wiggled her hips and wiped the sweat from her chest, Turns out i wasn’t the only one watching even guys I've fuckin told before to stay away come flocking, What don’t the asshole’s understand about “i’m always fuckin watchin” by her quitting time it wasn’t just my dick that was rock hard and throbbin but also the vein in my temple that tells me i’m about to snap.

Balling my fists up i wait for her to start walking back but Maggie fuckin Greene starts walking towards her, Fuck sake. I send the next watch away and tell them ill radio to come back. I wasn’t allowing no fucker to have this view. I watched as Maggie sat down in the grass with Y/N and pulled out two large bottles. I grabbed the binoculars again. Fuckin Merle! That’s his shine if i ever saw it. Making a mental note to smack that bastard later for this. Now everyone had gone back inside it was deadly silent out here which meant their voices were carrying more than they knew and i could hear every word. I settled back down and watched the girls for a while biding my time. 

Y/N

You both look at each other with a glint in your eyes, Pop the tops off your bottles and start downing it. Maggie comes up for air first. Dropping my bottle and swallowing the harsh liquid i Cheer in celebration and yell a little too loud “that Merle may be an asshole but he sure makes some good hooch” 

“Sooooo ya had any bites today?” Maggie grins winking at you. “Yeah but not the one i want, He’s so fucking frustrating. I think I've noticed him watching me more today than he has the entire time i’ve known him” I sigh. 

“You know he's got a huge thing for you or he wouldn’t be acting like this”  Maggie Giggled. “But then who in this friggin place doesn’t especially after today! You even made my breath hitch never mind poor Glenn who had to get a shower!” “Ugh maggie he’s your guy why the hell is he looking at me!” I grimaced. She put her hand on my thigh and winked at me again “He’s got my permission, don't worry it spices things up a little” I didn’t move her hand just enjoyed the feeling of her fingers running up and down the inside of my thigh.

We both downed more of Merle’s hooch giggling and the conversation turned to a debate on the size of Daryl's dick. I lick my lips promising to tell her if I ever get my hands on it. The conversation is turning more and more heated as her hand is getting closer and closer to my throbbing core. She’s getting that close now I’m sure she can probably feel the heat coming from it.  As we are getting close to the bottom of our bottles and really starting to feel the effect Maggie still with one hand on my thigh leans close to my face and whispers “He’s stayed up there watching past his shift. Let's give him something to see hmm?” As she’s finishing the end of her sentence I bridge the gap between us and meet her lips with mine. I bring my hand up to her hair and pull her closer into me, deepening the kiss Moaning into her lips. 

Daryl 

When the girls first started chatting i wanted to find out who they could be talkin about and punch the prick out till i heard my name and if my ears weren't already prickling up they definitely were now, He heard Y/N promise Maggie that if she sees ma dick she will tell her how big. He bites his lip and decides he’ll help her keep that promise. 

He picks his binoculars back up and notices Maggie's hand running up and down Y/N’s thigh. If there were two people he thought he wouldn’t have to warn away, it would have been Glenn and Maggie and they pick a night that he’s mad as hell to change his mind about that? 

He brings one hand to his aching dick giving it a few tugs through his pants to relieve some of the pressure and brings his eyes back to them just as he sees the girls lean into each other, Shit! Shit! He doesn’t know whether to run down there and interrupt finally or let them continue. Y/N pushes Maggie to lay her fully down and straddles her hips, I grabbed my radio and called for the replacement as i couldn’t take much more.

While i waited for the lazy shit to get here i watched Y/N & Maggie get even more heated and their hands exploring each other the moaning reaching me in the tower, I look to my right and see Glenn watching from behind one of the buildings hands and lower half suspiciously hidden.

Ah hell no fuck this tower! Daryl reaches over the side and grabs the pipe work swings himself over and uses it to get down quickly. As he hits the bottom his replacement is strolling over he grabs him by the scruff of his shirt blocking his view into the field. “Put ya lazy ass in that office and don’t fuckin leave till i come back and tell ya, ya can leave. Ya fuckin hear me?” I growl at him. The kid runs into the office in the tower. I spin around pretending not to see Glenn hiding there, I ran across the field towards the girls and as i reached them i let my shadow fall over them. 

Y/N

From where i am lay on top of Maggie i watch as Daryl slides down the side of the watch tower and charges over to us, I smile against Maggie's lips when he gets closer i moan feeling her hand snake its way into my bra, Were both panting loudly and moaning when his shadow falls over us. 

He clears his throat next thinking we hadn’t noticed him there. Maggie moves her mouth to my neck and I let out another moan but this time I raise my eyes to his and lick my bottom lip not breaking eye contact. 

“Come with me...NAW” Daryl growls and grabs my arms and pulls me off and up. Maggie looks at him and pouts “oh boo Daryl always gotta ruin our fun” I wave to Maggie giggling as he starts to drag me across the field. 

“What the fuck Daryl” I try to push him off my arm but his hands are unyielding. “Shut the fuck up ill deal with ya in a minute” He growls and pushes me up against the wall of a building stares longingly into my eyes then darts his arm out and smashes someone’s head into the wall. “Didn’t think id have to fuckin warn ya Glenn, Thought it was pretty fuckin obvious. Don't let me catch ya ass again” he grabs my arm again and drags me across the court yard until we reach a secluded spot, He slams my back up another wall and presses his body up against mine keeping me pinned between him and the wall. 

“What you think you’ve been doing girl, Flaunting your shit all day for any man to beat his meat too?” 

I squirm under his gaze, Shit i think i actually pissed him off, Definitely not the emotion i was going for!

“You think i’m gonna sit by and let tha happen?” 

I find my voice, “What do you mean, You won’t let something happen. You’re not the boss of me!” you say glaring back at him, If he wants to play the pissed off game he won’t be playin it alone.

“Ya know exactly what i mean! I’ll show you who the fuckin boss Y/N” He said, pressing his hips harder into mine. I try to suppress my moan. His eye’s darken even more hearing me moan for him now. 

“Who do you think told those pricks to back the fuck away from you, They wouldn’t of just left you alone on their own naw, they needed some rough persuasion Y/N” 

I glare at him again and he pushes his hips back into mine again.”Ya gonna learn yet? Every time you glare at me, ill smash my dick into that dirty clit o urs” He explains with a wink. 

Not knowing how to respond to that You ask “You’re the reason no man looks at me anymore? What fucking business is it of yours”

“Hell fuckin yeah i am” He says with a smirk “No one will dare ya touch you if I've claimed ya, So i did” “Naw I’ve claimed you, I’ve made it very clear if anyone touches you they’ll lose a fuckin arm” He growled

“For fuck sake Daryl! You can’t just put claims on a girl you don’t even give a fuck about” I said with a snarl.

“I give a fuck, Just didn’ want ya to know i gave a fuck, I enjoyed watchin ya squirm... but ya forced ma hand and naw... Well naw i aint gonna be gentle bout it”

You close your eyes tight, If he hadn’t of “claimed” me i would be in heaven now but learning that he’s behind your dry well makes you so mad. 

“This what you were trying to get huh?” “I would of thought twice before you pulled this shit, I aint no gentle man” she breathed into her ear. His gravelly voice driving me crazy. 

I look him in the eyes and shove him hard, running back to the cell block. I took a breather when i got through the door and realised he hadn’t followed me. As i was walking past the showers a hand darted out and pulled me inside. 

“Woah what the fuck” I gasped as I felt a hand move over my ass and pull me against him, Jees i need to wear this outfit more often. 

I was pulled into the light and saw it was Zach who had pulled me in with him, Zach was one of the ones who daryl must of scared away. 

“Hey baby, Missed me?” he breathed at me. “How could i miss you zach i never got a chance to know you, You let that asshole scare you away” I said hurt 

“Gimmie another chance Y/N, ill show you a good time, This could be our secret. We could have some real fun and piss that hillbilly asshole off” He squeezes me tighter to him. 

“Gerrof Zach if your too pussy to pursue someone when warned of by a man I’ve only ever spoken to once then you’re not a guy i want any fucking part of”

“Awww c’mon you don’t mean that” he grips the back of my head and pushes his lips to mine i tried to fight him off be but he had too tight of a grip. 

A low growl came from the doorway “I believe she said to get ya bitch ass hands off her” Zach jumped back like someone had shocked him when he heard the voice. Daryl walked forward and put his arm round my shoulder “an i believe i told ya to not even look at her again bitch” His voice gets louder “Tell me asshole what did i say i was gonna do to ya?” 

H waited a moment staring at Zack “Hmm to fuckin scared to answer?” he walks forward and punches him rapidly in the face Zack goes sprawling across the shower floor. Daryl stands over him and threatens “it’ll be worse next time if you don listen to me and come near ma girl again”

Daryl turns and heads back to you and wraps his arm around your shoulders again “Bet Ya glad i claimed you now” I nod slightly. I squirm out of his arms and run back to my cell, my hooch high still buzzing in my mind. Thank god without this how could i be this brave? I smile when I get to my cell wondering how long it will take him to catch me. 

I  barely had time to catch my breath before i felt him, He made no noise whatsoever like a hunter closing in on his prey.Whenever he was near me it felt like my entire body was electrified and tuned only to him. 

I spun around and my breath hitched in my throat at the sight of that venomous glare, He just stood and glared with his eye’s roaming every inch of you, You could feel every hair on your body standing to attention for him. 

In the blink of an eye he was back in front of you again pinning you back against the wall with his hand tangled in your hair, pulling your head to the side exposing your neck. 

He looks over your body panting his eyes still liquid stone, Ever glaring. I could feel the heat coming off him in waves as he studied me. His pushed his mouth next to my ear, “When i’m finished with ya, ya legs will be useless and everyone in this damn place gon know my name. An i promise you aint gon forget who’s ya are” He paused for a second staring into my eyes, “Naw take this shit off before i rip it off ya” He said pulling roughly at my shirt.

With Shaking hands i reach up and untie my shirt and push it off my shoulders, Watching his eyes grow darker as he watched. My shirt fell to the floor he grabbed the centre of my bra “All of it” He growled. I undid my bra and threw that into the corner. He looked down at my shorts seeming impatient gripped both sides and ripped them down. He came back up to me gripped my arms and pushed me further up the wall off the floor and quickly puts his legs in between mine and rests my body on them. 

He reaches forcing my head to the side again and brings his mouth down to my neck kissing and biting furiously his other hand gripping my breast roughly, Earning a loud moan from me. I reached for his shirt desperate to run my hands on him, Before my hands met their mark he had gripped my wrists pinning them above my head. 

“Ya don’t move, Touch or make a fuckin sound unless i say so, Ya hear?” I nodded eyes growing wide at his words. He let my feet touch the ground again and tore my underwear off, He bunched them up in his hand “Mmm look how wet these pantie’s are for me girl” “Open your mouth, Naw” I obediently complied letting him stuff them into my mouth, Dying to moan under his stare. 

He stepped back and let his vest fall over his shoulders and hit the floor, He then took his shirt off and used it to bind my hands together. He stood back admiring his handiwork, I Squirmed under his lustful gaze feeling myself getting wetter by the second. I watched him slowly bring his hands to his belt unfastening it then his button and zip, His pants hit the ground and he kicked them to the side. My breath went wild when I saw him in all his glory i love a man who doesn’t wear any underwear.

He lunged forward again pulling my legs over his and wrapping leg around his hips pressing his huge dick at my entrance. It was so long and thick: my mouth started salivating instantly imagining wrapping my mouth around it. 

He pulled my underwear from my mouth and growled into my ear “Scream my fucking name” as he plunged his entire length into me, The breath was forced from my lungs “shitt, Daryl!”

“Did i fuckin stutter, I said scream it” he growled again biting my neck pulling out almost of the way and plunging deep into me again. Damn did i scream this time my eyes rolling back into my head enjoying the sensation. 

“Tha’s better now ride it bitch” 

I felt raw already from his huge length and girth filling me like i’d never been filled before. Pulling my arms around his neck to steady myself i used him to pull myself back up and then down slowly trying to adjust to his size. 

His mouth met mine in a rough eager kiss, capturing my tongue with his. He pulled his mouth back to my neck and whispered “Ya don know how long i’ve been waiting for this, Tell me how much you love my dick Y/N”

“Ahh” i cried out “so much baby so much” My eyes rolling into the back of my head still rolling my hips onto him. “Naw, Tell me who you belong to” “You” I moaned “You i belong to you daryl” I panted out. 

“Louder! I want everyone in the fuckin place to know your mine” 

“Oh god, Daryl, I’m yours! Only yours” I screamed 

“Better” He smirked. He moved my arms from around his neck and released my hand’s from his shirt. He walked backwards with me still perched on him, His legs hit the end of the bed and he sunk down taking me with him. 

“Now show me how much you love this dick”

I positioned myself better over him and sunk down to the hilt slowly savouring every glorious inch of him. My eyes shot open again moaning when my clit hit his pubic bone and i started grinding harder and faster now. 

I could feel his hand’s everywhere, God i can’t believe how long i had been longing for this moment, I cried out again. He leant up on his elbows and pulled one of my nipples into his mouth nibbling, and running his nails down the inside of my thighs. The combination was pure ecstasy. I could already feel the pressure in my mound building painfully begging to be released. 

He removed his mouth from me earning a sad moan from me desperate to feel his mouth on me, He looked back at my eye’s amusement on his face. He ran both hands up to my chest again gripping almost painfully. “And these, Who do they belong to Y/N?” “You baby, All yours” i breathed shakily. I was so close when he growled again “Say my fuckin name” My wall’s started constricting against him. “Ahh god, Daryll ....fuck Daryl” His eyes shone at my words. He was even more spurned on now. He flipped us over, throwing me into the bed and pulled my hips into the air ramming harder and deeper than before. 

“Cum for me baby” He whispered in his incredible gravelly voice.

Those four words was all I needed to push me over the edge. Crying his name out again i felt the damn of pressure welled up in me from the moment I saw him burst open. I rode out my high as hard as i could against him, I collapsed to the bed and felt him slow down, My brain fuzzy from my incredible high. I tried pushing myself up on my elbows and my eyes caught another’s at the door. 

I looked down and back up rubbing my eyes, “Shit Darryl stop!” I reached for the sheets to pull them over me. There were at least 6 men gazing in, Daryl continued unperturbed. You tried putting your hand behind you trying to push at his stomach to get his attention. He captured your arm and it around your back and pulled you up against him. 

“You think I didn't know, Now tell me again who you belong to” “Daryl please!” I said trying to cover my chest. He grabbed the sheet and flung it away. 

Rick spoke up from the back Your cheeks flushed horrified they had all seen you in the throws. “I think Daryl told you to do something, He doesn’t like to be kept waiting” He said with a gleam in his eyes. You gazed around the men seeing Rick, Zack, Merle, Glenn & i wasn’t sure who else grinning enjoying the show. I was suddenly unashamed as i felt the pressure build back up dangerously high.

Daryl seeing my eyes wander over the group wrapped my hair around his wrist and pushed my head back into the bed, Ramming harder and faster than i’d ever felt before making me scream again. “Say it” he shouted at me “Ahh shit im daryl’s, You claimed me baby” He replied “And no one else is going to make you feel this good again are they?” 

“God no, Only you, Ahh so good!”

“Ya heard her '' He said addressing the men “She’s mine. Naw you can all fuck off back to your pits and keep your fucken hand’s to your selves asshole’s” You heard Merle hoot “wooowee you get it baby brother” You stomach turned grateful daryl had told them to leave, before his body pushed another orgasm out of you. 

They all turned and left as Daryl biting my ear lobe moaned into me “Now cum again for me baby” He suddenly dove his hand under me and onto my clit. 

I instantly caved again screaming into the bed. 

Feeling my second orgasm pushed him to the brink again and he jackhammered into me. Hard. Chasing his high. I pushed back furiously desperate to feel him. I moaned “Cum in me Daryl please i need to feel you” 

I felt him explode moaning my name and grinding deep into me riding it fully out” 

He collapsed on top of me breathless. We lay like that for a few minutes when I felt him going hard in me again. He pulled out and lay back on the bed pulling me into his chest his heart still pounding in his chest.

“God girl, If i’d of known you were that good a fuck, I’d of taken you that first fucking night” A relaxed grin on his face. 

He turned and took my face in his hands kissing me softly and murmured into my lips “I hope you don’t think i'm done with you yet” He winked “I aint had a girl like you in a loooong time i aint even close to done with ya” 

He rolled back onto me pulling my lip with his teeth. “Ready?” I nodded desperate to feel him again. 

God knows how many hours & Orgasms later he fell off me pulling me close into his chest again. I passed out instantly, Thoroughly exhausted. He chuckled into my hair and followed me into blissful sleep. 

When we woke the next morning his arms still tight around me, Smiling in his sleep. 

I looked over happy wishing i could stay here forever but there was work to be done. 

I slowly picked his arm up and tried to wiggle out from under it, Before i'd gotten half way those glorious muscles had flexed and pulled me straight back into him. “Morning beautiful. Hope you don’t think your going anywhere. We’ve got so much time to make up for.” He nuzzled his face into yours sweetly. You could feel him growing hard against your hip. “Don’t worry i’m feeling responsible. I’ll make it quick!” 

He fucked me again for another hour until we were both sweaty, shaky wrecks. 

I groaned and rolled to the edge of the bed and sat up trying to stand up and instantly felt my legs buckle beneath me. He was up and caught me before i came crashing down. He laughed. “Don’t say i didn’t warn you” You laughed with him. “God, I love that sound” He said, staring into my eyes and planting a sweet kiss onto my lips. He stood and started grabbing his clothes from around the room and dressing. 

“Take your time getting up, I’m back in the guard tower again today, Don’t forget what i taught you last night” He said with a wink and ducked down to kiss me. He moved to the doorway and moved the curtain turning back at me. “Oh and babe I wanna see that outfit again today, Now i know it’s all for me” He winked again and left. 

I fell back on the bed with a huge grin on my face. Holy shit I can't wait for tonight!