#teething rings and bitey things

[ask-a-bot]

Get Starscream a pacifier might help keep him calmer.

If i let starscream bite me he should know im biting back it aint no onesided thing >:>

Starscreaaammmm do you got a fav plushie??

and a question for everyone! Whos the cuddliest or best to hug and cuddle?

-💙

Brrrrrrbpt! Get yourself a pacifier, afthole!

Starscream, be polite. Do you have to make fart noises at people?

I won't be polite – and you make those noises too. With your aft! Hahaha!

Ooh! Biting contest! You know I'll win.

I could start biting back, if you want.

You're bigger and older than me.

So?

Isn't that abuse?

Isn't biting me abusive?

I'm your youngling.

I got Starscream something. It's a pacifier.

Frag-

Made from energon brittle.

Ooh! Love you, Kup!

Yeah, bite on that. Thanks, Kup.

A favourite plushie? My demon one, probably (Megatron gave it to me as a Christmas present, when we stayed with the Malto Family) but I'm very proud of my birdie cushion that I made by myself.

Megatron gives good hugs.

Ew!

I'd say Hot Rod. He doesn't hug me, but he knows where I like to be touched (shoulder) when I'm upset.

Optimus.

Yeah, Optimus. I find it a bit weird that Megatron and Optimus both said about each other, though.

Kup.

Bumblebee and Hot Rod both give good hugs.

[mwahmimi]

Lil’Rockstar / Eddie Munson / blurb / Fluff

“You got everything you need here right? Gotcha bottle, ya’ snacks and your bear? Right awesome. Daddy set your pajamas just over there, I know you like my Metallica shirt so figured you could wear it as a night dress y’know?” Eddie smiles softly, pointing in the direction of sofa. His fingers covered in his usual rings, you take his hand. Fiddling with your favourite ring on his pointer finger, the skull one. Giggling as you twist it around his skin. “You like that huh? It’s like babies with keys, just it’s my baby with my fingers.” He chuckles as he wiggles his fingers, booping your nose and pretending to flick your forehead. You giggle, covering your face with your hands to protect yourself. “Daddy!” You push him back first onto the bed, straddling Eddie’s waist. Settling into your new seat on his jeans-clad crotch nicely.

Eddie leans up towards you, wrapping his arms around you. Your face smushes into his chest and you inhale the faint scent of his cologne and whatever he’d been smoking before he came over to baby-sit you. He squeezes you tighter, “Little girl if you wanted a hug you should have just said so.” He laughs, continuing to hold you tighter, falling down onto the bed and rolling around with you in his arms, the pair of you in a fit of giggles. You try to push away and wriggle out of his grip but he’s got a hold of you. “Ohhhh you think you can escape me huh? You really think you’re that tough? You’re just a little girl! Just a small little creature.” You laugh and pretend to bite at him, showing him your teeth. “A creature that is very bitey by the looks of it.” Eddie laughs, pushing you back by your forehead onto the bed as you smirk and try to bite up at his wrist.

“Such a vicious monster!” He says dramatically with his hand over his brow as if he’s playing a part in a Shakespearean play where he’s a damsel in distress. “How-ever can I defeat such a beast?” He chuckles to himself, manhandling you once more as if you were a piece of clay for him to manipulate any which way. Jumping off the bed and reaching for the Metallica shirt he set aside for you, he places it over your head to blind you.

“Little girl can’t even get dressed properly without her daddy huh? Silly girl has left herself all vulnerable to the tickle monster!!” He laughs, setting himself beside you and poking your stomach whilst your vision is covered. “It tickles daddy!” You squeal and pull the shirt down and quickly as you can whilst simultaneously protecting your sensitive areas. “Oh it does? I wouldn’t expect that! You’re telling me this tickles? This? What I doing right here? Naaaahhh you’re crazy!” Eddie chuckles to himself as he picks up the speed in which he’s moving, using all five fingers on both hands to rapidly tickle your sides as he babies you. He only stops tickling you when he sees you gasp for air, sure he’s a tease and a self confessed “tickle monster” but he’s not evil.

He pulls you closer to him as you rest your head on his chest, still catching your breath from the play fight. Eddie ruffles your hair and rubs your back with his spare hand. Yawning and closing your eyes, you nuzzle into him. The feeling of his soft shirt against your nose only brings you closer to falling asleep.

“Hey hey hey!” He shakes your shoulders as he wakes you. “Princess I forgot, I got this.” He holds up a pacifier, it’s black and decorated with red beads that spell out ‘lil’rockstar’ along the handle, in the middle is a sticker of a bat. The bat seems to be wearing a similar pacifier himself. “I bought this a few weeks back, you don’t have to use it if you don’t wanna. I just- I was researching this whole little space thing you got going on. A lot of the littles, they have these. Plus- I figured it could stop you chewing on your nails and the skin around them.” Eddie picks up your hand, inspecting your fingers. “Whatcha say? Wanna give it a try?” Your face immediately flushes, you’d never really given pacifiers a seconds thought, but the effort he went to and the whole thing with your fingernails, maybe he was right.

You nod shyly, accepting his little gift. Placing it in your mouth, you smile and your lips morph to the shape of the pacifier. Eddie smiles back at you, only brighter. Moving the hair from your face and stroking your cheek.

“Look at you. My Lil’Rockstar.”

[burning-academia-if]

I don't know if this one has been asked but I'm sick in the head so anyway, how would the RO's react to the MC coming up to them and hesitantly asking to bite them or for them to bite the MC HARD, like make them bleed, dig their teeth into their skin, leave a scar hard. Now bear with me, the reason why is because MC's life has never been good, they've spent most of their life losing (friends, family, home's, etc.) and now with the whole "you are a danger not only to yourself but to everyone around you" they would be going feral about having or leaving proof of having lived, of having loved and been loved because what is cannibalism if not one of the deepest ways of showing love (the desperate need to shove a whole person in your chest, let them rest right next to your heart, carry them as a part of you for the rest of your life).

Anyways, love the story, bye!!❤️❤️🍽️❤️❤️

Anon I hope you know I yelled when I saw this lmaO thankfully for you cannibalism as a metaphor for love is my jam. Under a read more just in case tumblr's tagging system fails (cw: discussions and references to consensual violence)

Rook: He balks at the idea, at first. His whole thing is trying to keep you out of harm's way, and him becoming the harm? But the idea sticks. You want proof he's here to stay and he wants you to never forget him. He might be willing, depending on how you ask again.

Beck: He wouldn't. Besides it isn't like a scar is proof of someone staying with you. You might notice he does become more bitey, leaving marks on you, as a form of compromise. He hopes you'll come to learn he's here to stay without needing such extreme reassurance, but until then, he hopes the marks he leaves are enough

Rhea: Is gentle with you, saying that isn't how she wants to treat you. Your blood isn't something to be spilled, and even if you're ok with it, she isn't. She'll stay, she swears it. You don't need to go so far for comfort

Zoe: Blindsided by the idea, and probably one of the few times their fake calm mask slips into place around you. Would have a genuine discussion about it with you, and would say to ask them again when you're in a better place. If you still want them to do it, they'll consider

Lars: Consensual violence doesn't bother him, and if you really want him to, he will. He'll ask where you want him to bite, and he makes you swear you'll tell him to stop if it's too much. He cleans and binds the wound after, making sure you're alright emotionally and physically

???: Do you know what you're asking them? They've marked you in so many ways, they wouldn't hesitate. The only catch is, you have to do the same as well. Lean in together and sink your teeth into each other's skin at the same time. Some exchange rings as proof their relationship has eternity. Other people exchange wounds

[immeasurablesaladagere]

hihi salad!!!

can i get some oral fixation chase hcs please? that boy is always putting something in his mouth in canon and i think this is an underutilized genre. bitey chase has my soul (and also is me. do not ask about the medieval times show and restaurant circa 1995 sword covered in bite marks in my grandfather's house). <3 love your fics and hcs keep up the good work also do you have ao3?

Yeppers! I do have an Ao3, but it's been inactive for like two years lol. I'm re-writing all my old stuff because it is two years behind my current skill and it pains me to read a little. I might post all these fics as like one big masterpost at some point, just because I've made so many now (over 35! :000) Might link my Ao3 acc once I update everything.

Onto headcanons:

Broke every single pencil he's ever touched by literally chewing them in half. Forget erasers, those are gone within the first 5 minutes, the whole pencil is shredded within the week.

They replaced the wooden pencils with mechanical ones and pens to fix the wood-chips-everywhere problem, but then there were just a bunch of longer-lasting writing utensils covered in teeth marks.

Regressed Chase must have something to chew on hand at all times. If he doesn't have one, he moves to blankets, clothes, toys, random objects, anything nearby. It's just something he does without thinking.

Sleeve cuffs are covered in holes. He's ruined so many sweaters.

Likes his pacis, but he prefers teething toys instead. Mostly because it's way easier to break a pacifier by biting it (and he chews hard), but those rubber rings or freezable plastic ones are great, 10/10.

It's almost like a game to see how long each chewie will last. It's also how House and/or Wilson pick out chewable toys for the other regressors, because Chase has already stress-tested the brand.

Chronic nail-biter. When he was younger he used to bite them until they bled, but now it's mostly just to the nub. Big-him is working on it, little-him is undoing all the progress.

Generally likes using his paci regardless of age, but if there's other people around, even caregivers, he might refrain because he thinks that a big kid using a paci is weird. On his own tho, uses it all over the place.

"Chase."

*takes his sleeve out of his mouth, no further instruction needed*

Constantly being reminded not to bite things by everybody, little or not. Little because it's not good for him and big because he's actively wrecking office supplies.

Also foods! Very particular about certain textures in his mouth, some are bad enough to make him gag.

Likes candy you suck on or chew for a long time (gum, jolly ranchers, lollipops, etc.)

Don't give him lollipops with the paper sticks, same problem as the pencils.

[blizzardsuplex]

Marina-related playlist plz?

Hey, Drea! You got it. :) Here's the link to the playlist itself.

1.) Choked Out by The Mountain Goats -> It's always fun when I get to use a Beat the Champ song for a wrestler playlist! In this case, it's a pretty high-energy song about...well, someone getting choked out, something Marina does pretty well (see: Bloodsport). Most of the boys/Won't ever cross this line/If they all want to die dead broke that's fine, that's fine/Everybody's got their limits/Nobody's found mine

2.) Bittersweet Symphony by The Verve -> Wanted something with prominent violins as a reference to her (old?) entrance song and Andrew Bird didn't fit LOL. I like how repetitive the sounds/the lyrics are for this one...it's the calm before the storm of her in the ring sonically. It's just sex and violence, melody and violence/It's just sex and silence, melody and silence/I'll take you down the only road I've ever been down

3.) The Girls Are Fighting by Bloc Party -> IDK if she's had an intergender match yet (I would watch that one for sure), so when she steps in the ring the girls are, indeed, fighting...and, as the chorus stresses, for some reason the boys can't cope ;) Therе's blood on the dancefloor/Extensions on thе bar/I blame the Jägermeister and the vodka lemonade/And now these boys can't cope

4.) Moderation by Florence + the Machine -> She can be really intense in the right setting (again...see Bloodsport. Also the fact that, y'know, she used to compete in MMA). In either case, no space for being moderate...and sometimes not just in the ring (though you can take "love" as a metaphor/poetic way to mean "beating you up in front of a crowd" too). Want me to love you in moderation/Do I look moderate to you?/Sip it slowly and pay attention/I just have to see it through

5.) Comeback Kid by Sleigh Bells -> Just a fun aggressive song with female lead vocals about bouncing back when you're on the ropes. Don't run away 'cause that's a deal breaker/You gotta turn around, never let your guard down/I see you but no one's gonna save you baby/You always run around breaking all the rules baby

6.) Bad Girls by Tennis -> Pre-requisite penultimate slow/sad song :P No but seriously I was reminded of some of Marina's offhand remarks on her wedding day with this song (which is cool cause the lyrics have a marriage reference). Even bad girls can do good things/Even bad girls have holy dreams/Oh I, I'm not so transparent/My intentions they ain't so apparent

7.) Buttercup by Hippo Campus -> ...but she's a fighter to the end, so we end with a cheerful ditty about splitting your knuckles and being a whirlwind of teeth and claws. No holds barred in the ring so you'll fight me/Give 'em hell, give 'em teeth like you taught me/Tireless mess, seeking thrills, getting bitey/When I'm in doubt

[sciencepapa]

What did Samta got U and ur fam for Christmas?

so omany things… yiu would believe

i got a sticker for mh lab coat and its cute, and i got a science themedcooke book because lh eat plutonium, and i got a little heart locket necklace with pictures of nikolai and me inside (i don’t think ssnte got me that one tho(

nik got the stuff that i was talking about but he hahet got his secret one yet jejejehehehehe >:•3

the kids got cool stuff too. Notably allie got a teething ring because they are a bitey little bastard recently. i still love yhem hehe

[dew-emeritus]

More ghoul HCs

Era 5 is the era of TEETH, so here are some SFW oral fixation thoughts? In order of safest to most likely to take a chunk out of you.

Credit to @thelampisaflashlight who created the OG bitey ghoul HC, you're a champ and set off these thoughts.

Victory - Always has hard candy in her mouth, and a couple extra in her pocket. Sharing is caring, right?

Cumulus - Queen of big, genuine smiles. Might bare her teeth in warning, but no bites.

Aether - Arguably most mature of the group, sticks to toothy grins that are just shy of menacing.

Cirrus - Similar to Aeth, but less about the teeth, more about the tongue. She will lick you, which honestly is more threatening.

Rain - Easily anxious and prone to nervousness as the youngest in the group, so tends to suck or gnaw on his tail to relieve stress. It's not unusual to see him suckling his tail on a particularly bad day.

Mountain - Loves hanging out with Vic for the free candy, and also the company. Always has something between his teeth - toothpick, Dew's pick, cig, joint, shard of drumstick (???)

Swiss - Big into teasing/poking fun, so lots of coquettish lip biting. Not above baring his teeth (with an audible click) if you turn the teasing back on him when he's in a mood. Often gangs up with Mt at the Abbey, though his joint is more often between his fingers as he blows smoke rings.

Dew - Obsessed with licking things, and definitely a biter. As a fire ghoul, his emotions are always turned to 11. Get too close? Piss him off? Look at him wrong? Get ready for a CHOMP.

[rattlerinthewheel]

Hypocrite: Scud/Reader

You’re going to kill him, willingly, if the thirst doesn’t make you do it first.

For the Season of Kink bingo square: blood play.

For the Kinky Things Happen bingo square: blood and punishment.

@pille1983 asked for some choking, so included a little thing here. Grabby vampire gets grabby, necklace was in reach...

- - -

It’s an odd feeling, the room being dark but loud. The TV’s off, but the radio’s thumping somewhere else in the warehouse, turned up enough that the bass rumbles all the way over to the smaller room. It works up the couch’s frame, thrums through you, itching in a way that’s distracting. And you want a distraction, with how he’s leaning back. With how he’s scooping his hair out of the way, leaving his throat exposed.

"All yours, baby."

"Josh."

You’re going to kill him.

It’s not even that you’re pissed at him, at the end of your rope, put there by teasing and prodding. You’re too wound up, too focused on keeping your crouch from turning into a spring at him, to be mad. There’s no joke on his lips to make you, no glint to his eyes when he slants them towards you. For once, he’s deadly serious.

But you’re deadly. Thirst burns your throat like acid, shakes you with fine tremors that stutter the growl low in your chest. It cloys to the sides of your throat, the back of it, your tonsils, on its way out. So dry, so fucking dry, and Josh is right here and offering himself up...

You shake your head. It’s all you can do, all you can thaw without giving over to instinct. If you risk anything else you’ll be lunging, and then you’ll be opening your mouth, and then you’ll be draining him. Blade’s out, he’ll never get back in time to stop you, and you won’t let Josh go until you’ve had every last drop. You’ll kill him, really kill him, and you don’t think you’ll stop Blade from icing you when it comes to it.

But the slack look on Josh’s face hardens, just a bit. Enough for you to notice the nerves twitch and string.

"Said come here, bat," he sighs, patting his lap.

Your growl throttles, enough that you know he can feel it across the couch. "You got a death wish or something—"

You’re faster, but you’re thirsty and too busy honing in—not on purpose, fuck—on the pulse he’s offering up to jump away. His craftsman hand, steel under the soft, clamps around your wrist. His palm’s warm, flushed, and you drag your eyes off his neck to watch the blood blush out around the meat of his palm where he grabs, leak back fish belly-white when he eases his grip. Then it flares back out, warmer, when he redoubles his hold and yanks.

You flail, hissing, but there’s another firm grip hooked under your thigh and the lumpy couch under you is traded for a solid lap, and doesn’t this dumb boy know—

"You’re starving and," and the grip on your wrist jumps up to your face, craning it towards his neck while he hikes your bare leg—you’re just in your boxers, and fuck, you can feel his blood-heat through your flesh—to fold you up, "and I wanna try something."

"Wanna try death," you groan between your teeth.

The words come out flat, strained, because you’re trying not to breathe, trying to keep your eyes latched onto that stupid chain necklace and not the pulse thumping beneath. Your jaw locks, loosens, and locks enough times in a span of seconds that your whole face throbs, and you’re so, so tempted to just break it so you can’t clamp down.

"This’ll sting," is all the warning you get before something acidic sears into your thigh.

You snarl, and Josh releases you just as fast.

"Trial run. Sorry, bat."

Josh clucks his tongue like he isn’t sorry at all, wiggling the fingers of the hand that touched your thigh. You glare at the innocent-looking, fingerless glove that covers his palm. Something about it reeks, like rotten eggs and sulfur.

"Like it? Slipped it on when you were doing your impression of a viper. Not my favorite, if I’m honest. Too..." he hums, thinking, before turning his hand upside down and giving you reversed rabbit ears, "bitey."

Your growl only comes out as a pained moan, because you’ve got the shakes all of a sudden. Not thirst tremors. Sick shakes, like you’ve got the flu, and your leg has a rash of foreign pins and needles prickling that you shouldn’t be feeling.

"What," you groan, trying to flex your leg and only half-succeeding, "did you do?"

"Been fiddling around. Not exactly a fan of lethal-only weapons, what with a vamp on my side that can get fried in daylight."

A bone-tired, waterlogged feeling seeps into you like lead. "Uh huh."

Josh isn’t oblivious to your state. In fact, he takes advantage of it. You’re pliant, not limp but malleable enough that you’re positioned in his lap comfortably—for you and him. He goes on as he adjusts, "You’d be surprised what you can get blended up in fabrics these days. Best way I can explain it is, uh, those glow in the dark stickers? That, but bat repellent."

Another wiggle of fingers you want to bite off, despite how tired you are. "What?"

Josh’s easy grin drops, serious. "UV, bat. Try to keep up."

"No wonder I feel like shit," you growl, even as you feel some of your strength come back. "You’re fucking insane—"

"Ah."

You clam up at the noise. Not the threatening wave you get, that damn glove dangerously close to your thigh.

"Good, we’re making progress."

That easy grin returns and you bristle, regretting not draining him when you had the chance to.

"Now, drink."

You try to keep your mouth shut anyway, hold your breath, close your throat even as his non-gloved hand clamps the back of your neck and drags you close. You hate the ragged, pained whine of thirst and not wanting to kill him; but you hate the thirst a little more, and his thumb digging into the hinge of your jaw pries your teeth apart with no trouble at all.

You couldn’t turn him if you tried. You don’t have the... you don’t know if it’s a power, or something you have to activate that you haven’t figured out yet, or what—but you can’t turn him, and that’s good, because he’s already bound to a family and you’re good as dead if you turn a claimed familiar. Killing one? That’s an accident.

Turning? You’ll get staked.

That’s your consolation as you sink into his throat, fangs springing out and burying deep. Josh tenses, his grip goes slack, and you growl and push up so you’re straddling him. You seize that damn chain and yank it, and the flutter of his pulse, the throb of his windpipe as he tries to fight for a breath against the choke, works up some dark glee that gets you yanking it again. You gulp down hot mouthfuls that’s so, so good and...

... and you gasp, choke on the mouthful you inhale, as that goddamn glove skims your thigh.

"Easy," Josh warns, breathy but strong. Then he clears his throat, grimacing as he works his vocal chords, unintentionally tugging at the puncture wounds. "Ah, how ‘bout you use that tongue o’ yours?"

You’re recovering from the second touch, not as severe thanks to the blood, and you have just enough will to obey. Your grip on the necklace jumps off, and you frown at the pink marks you’ve embedded in the flesh: a ring of odd circles that’ll bruise. You don’t like having to lap at the blood that trickles down, either, like a damn dog; you smear just as much of it as you swallow, slathering his throat in red and saliva. But your throat isn’t parched, you don’t feel sick, and gradually, you begin working on cleaning him up.

"Do not get hard," you hiss, even if that’s too late to warn against; between his jeans and your boxers, there’s hardly enough fabric to hide the half-attentive shaft you’re sitting on.

"Hypocrite," Josh purrs, not touching with the glove but tenting his hand, fingers keeping his palm hovering, so it’s close enough that you feel the UV radiate. You don’t feel sick over it, just prickling, like burrs on the other side of a thick layer of clothes, so you feel...

... well, you feel like a hypocrite.

"This," you tell him, continuing to lap up your dinner, "will not become a thing."

But you can’t bring yourself to bare your fangs at the lazy, high-looking (he isn’t, his blood’s refreshingly plain) grin Josh gives. Or argue when he hums, "It will," in a sing-song pitch that clashes poorly with the dark and the thumping music.

About as well as a familiar and the vampire that can’t claim him.

[sunsetcurvecuddles]

(Because you know I’m all here for Bobby being forcibly perceived against his will) lobby or boggie nightmares/talking in his sleep

hi this is also sickfic because it’s you <3 ao3 link in the reblogs!!

i didn’t know just where i’d fall | 1.6k | lukebobby (platonic or romantic)

--

Luke's awoken in the middle of the night by Bobby muffling a sound into his pillow and kicking, hitting Luke in the back of the leg.

At first, Luke just feels disoriented, and mildly annoyed. It's very late (or potentially very early), and cold, and Luke has been sleeping poorly anyway out here in the studio instead of at home in his real bed, so he can forgive himself for starting out a little grouchy.

But then he registers the fact that Bobby's movement woke him up.

Registers that Bobby is sweaty and sticky and cold where his shoulder presses to Luke's, enough that Luke shifts back, feels his skin un-stick from Bobby's, and it's kinda gross but mostly concerning. Luke vaguely remembers Bobby looking exhausted the evening before, how Luke tried to kick him out to go back to his actual bedroom and Bobby had grunted, said, yeah, will soon and Luke had dozed off soon afterward. Now, Bobby’s whole body looks so tense, Luke sees as his eyes adjust to the dark, as Bobby twitches and kicks again, smaller this time, so Luke can dodge. Bobby's fist clenches in the blanket and he makes another sound — almost like a whimper.

The panic sets in, like ice down the back of Luke's shirt.

Obviously, he can see what the problem is. It's just a matter of what to do about it. But Luke isn't Alex, doesn't overthink things (sometimes doesn't even do the 'think' part, without the 'over'), so while it takes him a second to remember if not waking someone up is the rule for nightmares or sleepwalking, he's pretty sure it's the rule for sleepwalking. So he sits himself up, ready to flinch back if Bobby accidentally takes a swing at him, and says, "Bobby?" Then, a little louder, "Bobby!"

He gets no response. Bobby's breathing hard, but Luke still can't see his face, where it's buried in his pillow. After a moment, he assumes it didn't work. When Bobby makes another one of those awful, vulnerable sounds from the back of his throat, like nothing Luke has ever heard from him before, and Luke can't take it, the way his stomach lurches and his chest hurts at the sound. With as much strength as he can muster, he shoves Bobby's shoulder, hard.

Bobby gasps, coughs, scrambles, and sits up with a start, pressing himself up on one hand. His other arm shoots out and Luke was right to be ready to dodge, but the swing has no real direction, no heat, and Luke easily moves out of the way. Like it was muscle memory more than anything. Or like Bobby was aiming for something else, something that's not there anymore.

His face looks awful. He's way too pale, but flushed somehow, and he's covered in sweat, and trembling, and his eyes are wide. Now that Luke looks, really looks, in this light, he can see the dark bags under Bobby's eyes, the strain in his jaw as he clenches his teeth.

Then Luke remembers who he's dealing with. "Hey," he says, and does his best to keep his tone light and friendly, instead of terrified, and he succeeds on no counts because he's the world's worst liar. "You... okay?"

Bobby blinks, slow, like he's still trying to process what he's seeing, kinda like he's staring right through Luke. Then he blinks again, and looks... well, horrified, for just a moment, and then almost blank, like he used a towel to hurriedly wipe the expression off his own face.

"Fine," Bobby gets out sharply, and tries to push himself up further so he can get out of the bed, but he's shaking so badly that Luke instinctively reaches out a hand to steady him. Bobby really does feel warm, even through his shirt sleeve.

"You don't look fine," Luke mutters. Feels how Bobby's shoulders go tight and wishes he could eat those words right back up because it's Bobby he's dealing with, and he should know better. Less confident, Luke follows up, "Dude, what happened?"

"I just —" Bobby starts, and then stops, slumping back a little as his trembling arm gives way. "It's nothing," insists Bobby, and Luke would ignore it, but Bobby's tone is on the verge of pleading, and he ends it by coughing more into his elbow, a horrible, wet thing that makes Luke flinch back instinctively.

"Okay," says Luke, holding both his hands up in surrender. "Okay. Uh." Shit, what would Alex do? Luke’s own instinct is to flee, because there’s Feelings and Someone Being Sick and Gross involved, but he knows that’s not what Alex would do; Alex would suggest something helpful, without being too pushy, like… "You, uh. You want a shower?"

Bobby hesitates, and then grunts something semi-positive, shoving his sweaty hair out of his eyes and pulling the back of his hand across his nose. Takes a deep breath. When he gets up, he still seems shaky, and Luke can see the way his damp shirt sticks to his back.

They cooperate in silence. Luke runs the shower, gets it to a moderate temperature that hopefully isn’t too hot or too cold, though he knows he runs a little hot personally so he could be off. When Bobby gets in, he makes a groaning sound, and Luke hurriedly tells him, “Don’t change it, okay!”

He hesitates, not wanting to tell Bobby he thinks Bobby has a fever, because Bobby will get bitey and deny it immediately, do whatever he can to prove it’s not the case even if it means showering in hot water. So he doesn’t elaborate, and Bobby doesn’t protest. Luke digs around in the little bathroom in the studio for the spare towel he hasn’t really touched since he moved in, and leaves it on the counter.

Then, he goes out to rummage through his bag of belongings that he scavenged together before turning up on Bobby’s doorstep in the middle of the night a few weeks ago. He’s sure he has some flu medication in here somewhere, some Alex gave him the first day he moved out, when he turned up and angrily started slamming down a variety of bare necessities that Luke obviously needs, you moron on the table.

He also fetches a bottle of half-finished water from beside his guitar stand, and when he returns to the bathroom, Bobby has wrapped himself in the towel and is leaning on the counter wearily. His hair is wet with water, now, and he’s a slightly better colour, but the dark rings under his eyes are extra-pronounced. Luke offers him the water and the medicine, and Bobby raises his eyebrows, sceptical.

Luke does his best puppy-dog eyes. Please don’t fight me on this, he asks silently, because if Bobby gets worse Luke is going to panic and call an ambulance or something. Bobby rolls his eyes with a sigh and swipes the pills and bottles out of Luke’s hands. After he’s downed them, Luke says, “Should we… do you want to go back to bed?”

“No,” Bobby says, too fast. But his legs almost give and he fumbles to grab at the counter with one hand, Luke’s shoulder with the other.

“Yeah, okay,” says Luke, a little panicked, “let’s at least lie down.”

He helps Bobby back to the couch-bed, easing him down onto it. Bobby leans back against the pillows and huffs out a sigh.

Luke hops in next to him again, where he was before. Glances sideways at Bobby, whose eyelids are already drooping, but his jaw is gritted tight. They lie there for a few minutes, and Luke watches Bobby repeatedly doze off and then wake himself back up with force, shifting around and rubbing at his face. He looks so tired, more so as the flu medication must set in, his eyes going a little fuzzy and far-away, and so uncomfortable, and despite the help of the shower, Luke can feel the warmth radiating off him a little too much still.

“I think you should sleep,” Luke murmurs.

“Don’t wanna,” Bobby says, slurred. The flu medication was admittedly the strong stuff. And he’s still feverish.

Luke bites his lip. It’s so hard to make these kinds of calls, but it might be his only chance to ask, to make sure. So, he takes the chance. “Because of the dream?” he asks, swallowing his nerves down and keeping his voice relatively steady.

Bobby pauses, but only for a moment, to sniffle a little miserably. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Scared.”

It hurts Luke’s chest. Bobby’s never like this, never vulnerable or soft, is always the one who knows what to do. And if it’s not Bobby, it’s Alex. It’s never Luke left to manage these situations, because he’s too empathetic and too bad at understanding other people at the same damn time. “Can – shit, man, can I help?”

Bobby shakes his head this time, and curls closer to Luke, like he wants to … like he wants to cuddle up, but isn’t quite that bold. Luke breathes and opens his arms, an invitation. Almost right away, Bobby snuggles close, exhaling too-hot breath into Luke’s chest, tucking his head under Luke’s chin. He’s never seen Bobby like this, never expected to. But there’s something sweet about it, even if Luke feels bad for him.

“Just try and sleep,” Luke mutters, runs a hand up and down Bobby’s back, tries to think of what makes him feel better when he feels unwell and not about how likely it is that he’ll get sick after this, or about how cagey and embarrassed Bobby will be if he remembers any of this clearly tomorrow. Right now, though, Bobby shivers and relaxes against him with a little hoarse cough. He seems so much smaller than usual, but he isn’t nearly as tense as he was before. “I’m here. I gotcha.”

--

jatp taglist (lmk if you want to be added or removed!): @queenmolina @nickalicious @bi-reginald @malecacidd @burntchromas @jughead-is-canonically-aroace @cinnamonstickrayofsunlight @chickwiththepurpleguitar @fairylightsandrainydays @joyandthephantoms @fighttoshine @michelangelinda @queenofthequillandink @random-nerd-3 @silent-silver-slip @apolo81 @evashmz @bagoffriedrice

[ask-a-bot]

This is 🪣’s dad. Well, 🪣, Monsoon and Downpour’s dad now.

Wow, still not used to that…

Our seeker duo have a similar biting habit to Starscream. I suspect it might be a seeker thing. We have Monsoon a big ass tire to chew on and it seems to be working. He’s happy and now causing any damage. Maybe try that?

Downpour has serrated teeth so pretty much anything we give her gets demolished. Or in one case eaten (it was an old rusty car. Does this count as cannibalism?)

I hope they don't bite you humans... for all my complaints though, Megatron does very lovingly repair and groom me after Starscream's... biting sprees.

Ew...! He grooms you? Ewwwww! I'm not encouraging that!

... I thought you like biting me?

Not if it's going to lead to... that! Ewwwwww!

What do you think he does?

Don't wanna know! Eewwwwwwwww!

The finial biting issue seems to be resolved.

[sandwichfox]

AHH LISTEN! You write such beautiful headcannons, I feel like I'm literally there. 6x the joy of getting married and having gorgeous competent spouses to help with our gorgeous grumpy children! Thank you so much for this gift! Would you be down to write for the main 6 a lil oblivious, mutual pining and what causes them/the MC to finally snap? (And if you wanna get racy, what happens next? ;) )

Listen, listen, you came for my entire heart with this ask, the compliments definitely punched me in the face but the mutual pining was what KO’d me, my forking jam. (Also, we are always happy to get racy here in la mía casa)

Asra

★ He already really, really loves you, so it just kind of evolves naturally for him. There’s no internal conflict on his part, because of course he would fall for you, it’s only right. 

★ However, he does want to be absolutely sure you’re ready before taking any next steps, he doesn’t want to set you back in your recovery.

★ Except for Asra, that translates into never initiating anything, ever.

★ He hugs you and touches your shoulder and all, but that’s just Asra with anybody he trusts. He does stare at you an awful lot though. If he catches you staring, this fluffy idiot will think nothing of it.

★ Physical contact is already so natural between the two of you. That one day you just.. kiss him? Oops.

☆(NSFW)☆

★ “wait was that-?” “…oh! Sorry I-“ “No it’s- can I kiss you again?” The answer is yes, he kisses you with purpose this time, soft and warm. Then immediately dissolves into giggles. He kisses you again, still giggling. “I love you” he says, voice stuck between a laugh and a sigh (and a kiss).

★ It was meant to be a brief kiss, but now he can’t seem to stop. (He’s lost count of how many times he’s kissed you now), but his hands -they’re shaking- skim tentatively up your arm, into your hair, hold you by the nape of your neck. And when you sigh he can’t help but brush a finger against your collarbone, then kiss that same spot. 

★ He feels drunk (he probably knocks against the shop’s counter, almost drops a jar of some herb or another), but now he’s got you pressed against it and he’s not laughing anymore, his brow is furrowed with want. He pants your name and you’re both gone.

Nadia

♠ Doesn’t want to come on too strong but she is starting to suspect she fell for an entire dumbass.

♠︎ Maybe you just don’t want her? It’s entirely possible, but then what about all the times you seem to be flirting with her? 

♠︎ She’s tried everything, lavishing you with gifts, turning on the charm, even showing you off at parties and to dinner guests. 

♠ Problem is, she’s the countess, and why would she be interested in you? That’s ridiculous. All this must be because she has all this money, and you’re a special guest, and she’s just amazing like that.

♠︎ But one day you can’t take it anymore, and ask her outright what her intentions are. (Literally “are you flirting with me?” “I have been for a year now, thank you for noticing”)

♤(NSFW)♤

♠︎ Oh boy, she has to make up for lost time, now doesn’t she? She asks you (up front this time) if you’d like to come up to her room at the palace. “Don’t worry, nothing nefarious” her gaze says otherwise. Goodness, she’ll eat you alive. 

♠︎ You get to her chambers and, unexpectedly, she asks you to try something on for her. A necklace, she says, that has been sent to her. She’s not sure about it yet, and would like to see it on you before deciding if she likes it. You’re a bit taken aback, but agree.

♠︎ She’s wicked, dragging the cold metal chain slowly across the skin of your shoulders, breathing against your neck as she fastens the clasp, she takes you (legs shaking) to stand in front of the mirror. She places a kiss against a soft spot on your neck and then presses her teeth against it, her hand travels up to your throat. “Darling, you look ravishing” but you barely hear her, your ears are ringing. 

Julian

♦︎ Oh boy.

♦︎ This dude right here invented pining. He thinks you’re absolutely gorgeous the moment he sees you, but then you two get to talk and it’s over, my man is gone.

♦︎ Alternates between the smoothest man alive and a literal mess. Also, he wants to date you so bad, but he thinks he’ll be bad for you. Can’t decide between being selfish and a self-sacrificing idiot.

♦︎ You like him so much, but he keeps sending these mixed messages, you wonder if it’s better to just maybe just steal longing glances at him for the rest of your life.

♦︎ One day, when he’s feeling particularly angsty, you ask him what’s wrong and he tells you in many, many scrambled words that he likes you. You had thought you had mistaken his usual Julian-ness for flirting, but this new revelation changes everything.

♢(NSFW)♢

♦︎ “You like me” you breathe. He looks up miserably from his pint and nods. You already had a hand on his shoulder from where you were comforting him, but the surprise makes you tighten your hold, dig your nails in. And he- did he-? You snap your gaze to his and yep, he’s red to the very tips of his ears, lip caught between his teeth. “Oh?” You smirk. He lets out another tiny, miserable whine. 

♦︎ You can’t remember ever feeling this giddy, your heart is pounding and your hands feel clumsy, it’s nearly impossible to get the buttons of his coat to come undone. And you’re hiding in an alley, goodness. Julian’s lips still taste of salty bitters, and he’s clutching at you like he wants to climb inside you.

♦︎ “You’re drunk” you say “on you” he retorts, though muffled, he didn’t even miss a beat. You bite his lip playfully in response and he, mmmelts (seriously, you have to catch him a little). “Okay” you say, hot all over, “okay” and you kiss him some more. 

Muriel 

♣︎ Hates it. Hates that he’s pining for you so hard. He tries the whole avoiding you thing and everything but it doesn’t work.

♣︎ It never even crosses his mind that you might want him back. Sometimes he catches you looking at him and his immediate reaction is to be absolutely mortified (has he had something on his face this whole time?!)

♣︎ Doesn’t know what to do with himself, basically. He wants to talk to you but he only goes so far as to following you around at a distance. He wants to touch you but doesn’t want to ask for contact. He brushes against you once in passing and immediately goes beet red. 

♣︎ Thing is, you’re so good. So good, soft, like he doesn’t deserve. You treat him like he’s… Sometimes you bring by some of your cooking, or a shiny rock that you thought was pretty, or you take him out for some smoked eel (and keep him company while he eats it, sat in the shadows). You constantly check that he’s alright “is it okay if I put my hand on your shoulder?” “Are you alright?” “Can I touch you?” “Can I help you?” “Can I hug you?”…

♣︎ “Can I kiss you?” You whisper, he can only nod.

♧(NSFW)♧

♣ Muriel is so sensitive to touch, starved for it, though he’d never admit it. So when you start kissing him there’s an immediate churning heat in his belly. He’s lightheaded, feels like he’s about to boil over, he doesn’t know where to put his hands. 

♣︎ Somehow you’ve ended up in his lap, though he can’t say exactly when that happened (time is strange, when he’s kissing you), his hands have traveled to your sides and something about having you there, holding you to him, he’s going to go mad.

♣︎ He doesn’t want to ask for more than you’re willing to give him. But you give so easily, each tentative press of his lips is met with wet, purposeful pressure from yours. When his hands first brush your skin you shiver and come closer. He kind of never wants to stop. 

Portia

♥︎ Is a whole mess.

♥︎ Listen, she gets lost in your eyes sometimes, alright? That doesn’t mean she’s in love with you. Or maybe it does, but you don’t have to know that.

♥︎ Maybe you’re an oblivious fool (u are) because that’s the only way that you wouldn’t have noticed her pining. Literally goes ‘eep!’ every time you catch her staring.

♥︎ Portia is the kind of person that talks about their crush all the time, (‘the other day I was with MC and-‘ ‘and then MC said- insert mildly funny thing- and haha- wait- hahaha- they said- hahsghdgsh’) so literally everyone knows she’s crushing but you. 

♥︎ She’s naturally flirty with everyone, but one day she says something that you read as actually flirty, so then you’re like wait, really? And Portia’s all ‘oh! Sdgdhhdj I was just, I didn’t mean- I was just, uhm- KIDDING! Just kidd- unless..’ (anyway spoilers you both like each other and then make out lol)

♡(NSFW)♡

♥︎ She spent so long having a crush on you and daydreaming about being with you and now she can actually have you. She has to hide away with you for a little while ASAP. You notice her acting giddy one day in the gardens and ask her what’s wrong “nothing!” She says immediately, then a pause “actually, do you want to stop by the cottage?” A perfectly innocent question, but she’s gone all red. Oh. 

♥︎ You stop by her cottage. As soon as you’re in through the door she turns up the flirty-ness tenfold (you’re gonna pass out), until she finally takes your hand and walks you backward against a wall. “Wanna make out?” She whispers. You do, actually. She’s surprisingly bitey, and very responsive. 

♥︎ After a few moments her hands start wandering, “you’re so cute” she sighs “beautiful, wow”. She’s letting out these breathy little sighs, pressing closer until there’s no space between you. She has one leg slotted between your own, her back arched to press the length of her against your body, one hand on your back at your waist, the other clutching at her shoulder, and she’s moving in a slow, waving motion, kissing your jaw and lips and ear and scraping teeth against your neck (you’re going to die).

Lucio

▲ Oh he hATES it. (Feelings?! No thanks, yuck). It’s probably the whole ‘feelings make you weak’ mentality he grew up around, because he’s not above indulging in company, if ya know what I mean.

▲ But he doesn’t just want that from you, and it throws him on a loop. He keeps bouncing back and forth between sending for you about the most ridiculous things just to see you, and sending you away in a huff when he realizes that no, bad Lucio.

▲ It can’t be helped though, and soon he’s head over heels. He gets ridiculous, honestly. ‘Subtly’ asking about you and giving you increasingly odd, expensive gifts and trying to get your attention. 

▲ As soon as he gives in and admits to himself that he actually likes you his first thought is to go out and demand that you be with him. But he’s actually nervous, and not exactly sure that you would like that at all. So he starts testing the waters. 

▲You think it’s just Lucio being Lucio but you’ve liked him for some time and it kinda? hurts? when he suddenly starts complimenting you and making jokes about being with you for real, saying it so casually like there’s no way in hell and it hurts. So one day you tell him to stop.

△(NSFW)△

▲ “Wha- huh?” He says, and you’re embarrassed, maybe you shouldn’t have said anything, but Lucio’s already seen your face, and now he knows what’s going on. “Oh, sweetheart” he says in a drawl “I’m being perfectly sincere, I love your pretty face” he takes a step closer “that amazing body” his voice is softer, you blush, he takes another step “your powerful magic” another still “your sharp mind” he’s right in front of you know, reaching out with a clawed finger to tilt your chin up “I’d like to be with you, if you’d let me.”

▲ “I’d like to do so many things to you, magician.” His golden hand trails from your chin to your bottom lip, tugging down before letting go and traveling up your cheek to the side of your head. He’s holding himself up against the wall with his other hand, bracketing you in against him, all in your space. “Perhaps I’ll call you to my room, feed you whine and fruit and sweets, drape you in fine silk” he leans in close to your ear “I’ll keep you to myself all day, kiss every inch of you, maybe keep you all night as well.”

▲ “Lucio” you gasp, he grins devilishly and surges in to kiss you. He kisses you long and hard right there in the hallway, pulling back a few inches just to hover near your lips, you lean into him and he pulls back a little more, teasing. “Please” you pout. “Oh no, beautiful, you’re much too pretty to be begging a man like me for kisses. I should be the one doing the begging, getting on my knees and showering you in gold.” He’s grinning, but he’s glowing red with enthusiasm at the thought. “Kiss me then” you say, pulling him to you, he shivers like he’s weak at the knees and does just that. 

[dredgenshrike-defunct]

//ok since im way too lazy to rb anything for sinday i'll just talk abt my muses lol

so, Shrike, being fucking massive- the size has to match, right? so he's a solid almost-if-not a foot long, and ridges at that. Glows too. Pimped up like a ferrari. But i want to expand more on the entire biting thing i reblogged a millenia ago

-Shrike is mouthy, and sometimes in a vocal way though his is mostly growls and weird noises but hes very bitey. Any encounter with him ensures large bites, clawmarks sometimes. And especially- that shoulder bite, the grab attacked in Elden Ring where a chunk is taken out of the shoulder? Shrike def does something like that if whoevers hes with lets him or he gets carried away (save for the...actually taking the chunk out. They'll just have some teeth marks- and likely blood. No chunk of flesh missing. He's not that insane...)

But as possessive as Shrike can be it's right up his alley.

Also the tail is totally a sweet spot.

[drabbles-of-writing]

So for the song Buttercup what scenes do you have in mind? As in for certain lines or just the whole thing. I might do a bit of doodling thumbnails here and there. And who knows. If I get off my lazy but I might actually make an animatic.

 INFO DUMPING TIME INFO DUMPING TIME

Opening lines at basically just the introduction to beta luz & amity separately. But “all my loves wrapped in shades of red” I always saw as the moment Amity snapped and bit Boscha’s hand, spilling blood and causing a scar before they broke up.

“no holds barred in the ring” I can see something that Amity is saying as she’s facing off with Luz, possibly their first fight. Likely and explanation. “so you’ll fight me” is said by Luz, egging Amity on to throw the first punch, which she does.

“give ‘em hell, give ‘em teeth” I see as just them fighting. same fight? different fight? multiple different cuts of their fights? who knows. the “like you taught me” shows Luz wiping blood off her mouth facing up bullies from her old school, plus Amity with dark figures behind her and baring her freakishly large fangs.

“seeking thrills, getting bitey” is absolutely showing Luz doing stupid shit and Amity almost, or maybe actually, biting Luz.

“when I’m in doubt” is self-explanatory. shadowy reaching doubts from one or both sides.

“pudgy face kissing lace in the backseat” doesn’t quite fit with the ‘timeline’ or whatever this is but I could only imagine the beta lumitys first kiss, which was sitting behind a 7-11 with Amity having a split lip after the two of them fought.

“winkle toss of the coin that I can’t see” isn’t anything specific. I just really liked the aesthetic of Luz flipping a coin and the camera zooming in on it and transitioning to the next scene when the coin falls away.

“where around is enough for a family” is just. Luz hanging out with her friends like Willow & Gus, plus King & Eda.

“I don’t need you inside my head” could be Amity sneering at Luz with crossed arms, the two in a verbal argument and how Luz has done nothing but trouble since coming to Hexside, especially for little miss perfect (not) over here. Or it could be Luz having a bi panic slumped against the wall bc she just realized she has a crush on Amity and Oh God Oh Fuck.

from “growing pains splaying rain” to “understand me” I don’t have much. Luz & Amity actually getting along, maybe?

“putting words in my mouth” is the two in an actual fight, not a playfight. started as one, but Amity then started insulting Luz’s mother and taking the verbal jabs a bit too far. “trying to get free” could be Luz trying to just stand down and leave bc she’s had enough but Amity wants to continue the fight. “solid punch kind of eyes make ‘em wobbly” is when Luz finally snaps and spins around and punches Amity in the face without warning, specifically when the song says “punch.” Amity stumbles back and is clutching her bleeding and broken nose.

“gothic vine growing fire in the lobby” my mind for some reason imagined Willow pissed or maybe even scared as all hell with vines shooting out and wrapping around everything as the classroom is ablaze. she is the only one in there. maybe Boscha is there too idk.

“lighten up, buttercup, get a hobby” I can see as Boscha, Amity or Luz saying to someone (one of other three I just mentioned) w a tired snarky, annoyed look.

“yeah, swing, sucker, swing” is Luz swinging a bat at Boscha’s car when she and Amity destroyed it one night.

“finish sobbing” I always see as Amity crying and clinging tightly to Luz as shes being comforted. Was it a break? did something happen? where are they? who knows, creative liberties my dudes.

got nothing for the repetitive “she’ll be fine on her own” chief. cuts of different times of random events in the au, maybe?

“I’ll be fine, I’m alright, its my body” is Amity mad and yelling about the possibility of her teeth getting ripped out and replaced with gold ones. “gonna stick to my guns like you taught me” could be her yelling at her mother with the twins in the background fearfully glancing at each other.

“holy hell, I can tell that you hate me” is Boscha saying that at Amity after possibly wiping blood off her face. she’s clearly mildly annoyed but Amity is PISSED.

the repeat of the “ill be fine im alright its my body” lines I’m not as specific for, but with more focus on Luz, definitely. the “gonna stick to my guns like you taught me” is likely her standing up to someone or something or just fighting in general with help from Eda. and on the “holy hell, I can tell that you hate me” shes joking and laughing n friendly-mocking Amity with an arm around her shoulder n Amity is rolling her eyes but smiling.

thats all I have for it rn but BRO I am just thinkin,,,,,SM about it you have no idea. if you ever do draw anything for it, and especially if you make an animatic, I would be DELIGHTED to see it! 

[drjingujisclinic]

I love your blog sm!!! Can I get samatoki railing his male s/o?? 😳💕

In a Samatoki Sama mood tonight 

Under the cut for 18+ content, please do not interact if under 18. Thanks! 

Samatoki seems like he’d just pin you down and have his way with you. But he never really does. He’s actually terribly afraid of hurting you. 

But if he’s been with you long enough and he gets into the swing of things, as it were, he’s happy to pounce on you anywhere, anytime. 

Some of his favorite places include: between cargo crates on the docks, in his office, or better yet in Jyuto’s office. 

Prefers to have you face him so he can easily shut you up with a kiss if it’s needed. 

Even so, he’s still kind of gentle at first, stroking you as he pushes in, pausing, making sure you’re okay and that you don’t want to stop. He doesn’t think he’s huge, but he does want to make sure you’re feeling good too. 

VERY bitey. Expect rings of teeth marks when you’re done. 

“Samatoki--” You whine as he adds another finger. They’re cold, slick with lube, and you’re surprised that nobody has come in asking what’s wrong, especially after the clatter of everything falling from his desk to the floor as he shoved you down. 

“Hey, I don’t want you cryin’ on me when I fuck ya.” He says, leaning down to kiss you a few times. His other hand moves from your thigh, where he’d been keeping it spread for him, to the base of your length. Samatoki smirks, with a low chuckle, as he sees the way your hips roll up to meet his hand. The fingers inside of you move too slowly and they just aren’t enough, by this point the two of you have done this enough that you’re sure you’re practically molded to him. Anything else just won’t do. 

You open your mouth to whine his name again, and it’s cut off by his lips on your own, the faint taste of tobacco still on his tongue. When he pulls back to breathe, just for a second, you get to mumble out a “please,” and how on earth can he say no to you, when you’re spread out for him like this, your length pulsing in his hand. 

“Alright babe, I’ll do it right.” He says with a light bite on your lower lip. “Sorry to keep you waitin’.” 

[eclecticpjf]

As much as I enjoyed The Mandalorian, the best original thing I’ve seen on Disney+ is one of the “Forky Asks a Question” shorts: “What Is Love?”

It has Betty White voicing a teething ring named Bitey White.

[erintoknow]

Self-preservation, really

fallen hero fanfic, sidestep times 3.5k words. (3.5/50k for NaNoWriMo). [ao3]

this originated out of a micro-fic blurb that i wanted to explore more

––

They rose up and ate the EMP bomb before it could detonate. Knew the Nanovores had some rudimentary intelligence to assess threats, but this was far more sophisticated a response than you could have dreamed of. Now what? Boxing the swarm in and dropping an EMP was the go-to approach for a Nanovore attack of this size. It had proved pretty effective during the Gulf wars that had seen the first terrorist Nanovore attacks. If this even was a terrorist attack. If there was someone making demands at the center of this, they hadn’t spoken to anyone. Maybe the nanovores ate them first.

Fucking hell, the containment line is starting to falter, not clear how exactly, the repulsion fields set up to box the swarm in are proven to work, unless – Grab her shoulder and pull her backwards, knocking the wind out of you as she falls back on top of you. The ground around the emitter, where Ortega had been holding it steady begins to crumble, dissolve into a shimmery gray mass.

“Mierda…” Ortega breathes out, helping you back to your feet.

“F–fucking – bullshit is right, the little b–bastards tunneled underneath the shield.” You grit your teeth, holding onto Ortega’s hand as you step backwards from the rapidly approaching silver tide. Need to think of something, now.

“We need to save the emitter!” Elysie reaches for it and Ortega slips out of your hand to try and grab her back and it’s like watching lightning strike in slow motion. Stricken to the earth as Elysie drops to the ground, convulsing – jesus christ, and now the silver sheen is on Ortega’s skinsuit too and no no no. The ground at your feet is beginning to shift and that buzzing pressure clawing at the back of your head is getting more and more intense, it’s like a telepathic dampener but a thousand times more noisy, chittering bitey little mites like it’s the – the nanovores?

They have to stop, they have to stop, they have to STOP.

Your ears hear silence, but in your head it feels like you’ve grabbed a hive of bees with your bare hands.

Constant thrumming buzz, barbed notes cutting into you. You collapse your knees, the pressure building in your head. Screw your eyes shut and push at the sides of your skull as if to keep your brain from exploding.

Can’t read their thoughts – god, do they even have thoughts to read? – but they listen to you all the same, you don’t give them a say in the matter. Cold copper and electrical filament, the smell of silicon smoke flooding your senses. How does something so vast feel so small and yet all encompassing? Utterly alien to any mind you’ve touched before. Devouring – but no, not at least. Stand still! Stand down!

It feels like something bursts inside your head but you force your hands into fists. Force them back, off Ortega, off Elysie, off everyone, back to the center. Silvery sheen of metal locusts glaring sunlight.

Vaguely aware of people rushing around you. Doing what? 

The cages! Back to plan A then? Discarded when the swarm grew out of control. But, have to hold it – them. How long can you hold the pattern? Someone grabs your shoulder, helps hold you out while cursing under their breath in Spanish. Charge? She’s alive, thank god. Can’t spare her any more thought then that, the buzzing demands your full focus. All it takes is even one to slip through and rest will spill out and it’s all over.

As some point it starts getting hard to breath, have to struggle to pull up your mask, not all the way, just enough to free your nose. Can feel something wet and warm run down your face. Are you bleeding? Great. Time limit then. All the will in the world means nothing if you faint from blood loss.

Don’t know how long you kneel there in the dirt, wouldn’t even be doing that much if it wasn’t for Charge. Someone is saying something to you, her? Words of encouragement, you think. Processing anything that’s going on around you is a little much right now. Something gets put in front of you, people talking again?

“–holding up? You’re ––– this, right? Holding them –––––––?”

Nod your head, don’t trust words to speak.

“They’re setting up –––– cages now, ––––step, can you ––––?”

Void Cages, a material the nanovores can’t devour. Lead them in, filling each cage, one by one. The first one catches people by surprise, not an orderly line but the wave of an ocean, buzzing with bees, breaking over the containment unit, sending men in uniforms scattering. But so by wave and bucket even a sea can be emptied. 

“––––––!” The voice calls to you from a million miles away,  right in front of you. “Side–––!” Can’t afford to acknowledge – if you break concentration, if you lose your hold, everyone here dies. Possibly the entire city dies.

Almost all of them, almost done. Each cage filled is that much less pressure on your mind. Your increasingly weak, dizzy, lightheaded mind. Just one more and–

You jolt awake, and your skull wastes no time in complaining. Head like a metal rivet was pounded clean through. There’s still the weight of acrid smoke in your lungs. Push yourself up into a sitting position and your vision briefly goes black before slowly filling back in. How long were you out?

Sitting in a tent, two other cots to your left, both empty but with signs of use. Moved but can’t have been far. Mask pulled up over your nose but no further. It’s actually a little hard to see with how the material bunches up against the visor pieces. If this is a medical tent shouldn’t there be like… a doctor doing medical stuff? Glad there isn’t but still.

Try to get to your feet and you immediately fall back on your ass again, head ringing. Too dizzy. Weak. That’s not good. Can’t be like this. Not here. What happened? Did you finish with the swarm? Is Ortega safe? Elysie? Everyone else?

Are you dead, maybe?

Try to reach out with your mind and – wince, grab your skull. A dull thudding pain from deep within between your ears. The fuck – did you sprain your telepathy? Is that even a thing you can do? Well, could ask the same thing about holding the nanoswarm. That didn’t make sense either. Something tickles the back of your throat and you wince, cough up a chunk of dried blood. Wipe it off on the ground, check your nose. Not bleeding any more. That’s good at least.

Lean back, take a deep breath, hold, let it out. Don’t reach out then, just… open up, let them come to you.

It still hurts, sore, elastic stretched too far and won’t return to its natural shape, maybe. But… pick up shadows of an impression of the minds rushing around outside the tent. Busy, focused, plenty to do, damage to asses.

Haven’t lost your telepathy then. Still have it. That’s… that’s good right? You should feel good about that. It’s all you’ve got going for you after all, right?

Light floods the tent as someone steps inside, anxious, worried, thoughts running circles around their head. Look up and find Sunstream looking down at you. Relieved, red-eyed, tired. “Oh thank goodness you’re up.”

“Hey Sun,” you croak, “w–w–what’s up?”

A smile threatens to break out on her face and she has to pull at her mouth. “We were about send you to the hospital on the next ambulance.”

Dig your fingers into the ground, swallow hard. “N–not happening.”

“I still think you should go, but the Marshal ordered me to buy some time for you and it’s been–”

“Ortega? Where is she?”

Sunstream shakes her head, “Already on her way to the hospital.” She holds up a hand as soon as you open your mouth to speak. “Should be okay after surgery. She got off pretty light, not like…”

Can already feel the weight of the names in her mind. Something cold and terrible twists your insides. “Like…?”

“Elysie didn’t make it. A– A lot of people didn’t make it. God I–” Sunstream shudders, folding in on herself. Admittedly you don’t exactly have the closest relationship with the woman in your three years of working with the Rangers, but you’ve never seen her look quite like this. “When the swarm broke containment everything happened so fast. It was chaos. And I…”

“S–sunstream…?”

“We’re supposed to save people, Sidestep. I couldn’t do anything. All I could do was to… to try and… ease things for people.”

Oh.

“And then all of the sudden the swarm stopped, pulled back, and now I keep thinking… did I do the right thing? What if we could have saved them still? What if I–”

“Sunstream.” You cough, pat the ground next to you. “S–s–sit down.”

“What?”

“Just s–sit with me.”

She gives you a strange look, and for the first time you notice the blood and dirt smeared across her skinsuit. You pat the ground beside you again. Watch her mind run through a flurry of thought processes before she makes up her mind and crosses the length of the tent to sit down next to you, legs folded under her.

This really isn’t your wheelhouse, but Sunstream looks like how you feel right now. “J–just… d–do some– some breathing exercises with me. Okay?”

You barely get five minutes with Sunstream when more visitors arrive. Sentinel, flanked by Steel. Both looking in rough shape, but still standing.  Sentinel glances from you to Sunstream, “You’re both here? Good. We need to talk.”

Something about the way he says that – you feel yourself tensing up. “Where’s Anathema?”

Steel stays in the entrance, in his full power-armor he easily blocks the way out. “Helping search and rescue efforts.” He eyes the back of Sentinel’s head. “Like we should be doing.”

“And Sidestep can help with that.” Sentinel gestures towards you. Steel only grunts, not hiding the frown on his face as he stares down at you. “But first,” Sentinel continues, “we need to figure out what just happened back there.”

A gnawing twist in the pit of your stomach. You shift focus between Sentinel, Steel, and Sunstream. “They w–w–went underground. Underneath the–the–”

“No, we all know that part,” Sentinel cuts you off, and you blink. Taken aback. He’s never interrupted you like that before. “How did they stop?”

“I–I–I…” You frown, “W–wait… Why are you… w–w–why are you asking me?” Can feel your heart against your chest.

Sentinel shifts his weight. Can’t help but notice Sunstream has subtly put a bit more distance between you two as well. “Charge coordinated the containment over radio. But, we could all hear her talking to you.” Sentinel’s eyes flicker down towards the blood staining your front. “And you were obviously doing something.”

Should have left when you had the chance, Ariadne. Now you’re trapped here. Three pairs of eyes staring into you. Questioning thoughts. You want to think it’s concern, or worry. It hurts too much to get a clearer read but you you know better than to assume that. Is it doubt? Suspicion?

Sentinel frowns, “You’re not in trouble Sidestep. We just need to make sure we’re all on the same page before reporters overwhelm the scene.”

You sigh, can feel your whole body sag. “I… d–don’t know what I did.”

Don’t even need to look up to know Steel is narrowing his eyes at you. “So you did do something.”

“I had to–to–to think of– think of something to do – And I… I c–could hear them.”

“Hear them?” Sunstream asks.

“In–in–in the back of my head. So… I grabbed h–hold.”

Sentinel breaks the silence. “Sidestep, I thought you said you could only read surface thoughts, intentions, that kind of thing.”

“Th–that’s right.” You nod, sticking to your cover story. No one needs to know the full extent of what you can do. Keep recent events from sticking in memory, subtly alter perceptions. Nothing big, nothing drastic. Admitting to the Rangers being a telepath had been bad enough, re-earning people’s trust. Don’t think you’ll ever get Steel’s back; assuming you ever had it.

Still. There’s no possible way you should have been able to do what you did. To… reach into another mind and make it do something? That’s…

It’s disturbing.

By the feel of everyone’s thoughts, you aren’t alone in thinking that. A hand claps your shoulder, startling you out of your thoughts. Sentinel smiles down at you. “Well, however you managed it. It’s lucky for everyone you were here. You might have just saved the city.” There’s a moment and you can practically read him considering what he just said. Sentinel shakes his head, “No, no ‘might have’ about it.”

“P–p–please don’t tell anyone.” The words slip out of your mouth before you can stop yourself.

“For once I have to agree with Sidestep.” Steel says.

Sentinel lets go of your shoulder, taken aback. “Can’t say that’s a team-up I expected here.”

You can feel yourself shrinking under Steel’s glare. “That kind of ability is extremely rare. If it becomes common knowledge, that makes Sidestep a target. Am I wrong?”

“I…” What is Steel’s game here? Since when did he start caring? “Th–that’s about the whole of it.”

“Well, we can’t exactly keep it a secret from everyone.” Sentinel sighs, crossing his arms. “Everyone here is already piecing things together. That means us, the mayor’s Guardian Force, the police, maybe some of the EMTs…” Sentinel counts off the groups on one hand. “We can maybe keep the specifics out of the press. With Charge out of commission that means it’s up to you and me to handle things, Steel.”

Sunstream is staring at you with an uncomfortable mixture of fear and awe. “You really stopped the swarm?”

Shrugging, you give a weak laugh. “I d–d–don’t think I could d–do that again if I tried.”

Steel snorts. “Let’s all hope you don’t have to.”

Navigating the press in the cool down of the Nanovore attack is a nightmare all its own. Never appreciated until then just how much Ortega had run interference for you. The Rangers don’t exactly throw you to the wolves, but they don’t physically put themselves between you and the all-too nosey camera crews either.

Still can’t shake the feeling someone might have caught you on film with the lower-half of your face exposed. The LD police were more than happy to take at least partial credit for stopping the crisis, but you had still been stuck with the ‘honor’ of having played a key part in the cover story for saving the city. Too many people had heard you doing something over the radio even if they didn’t know what.

And now Ortega was hospitalized. Again. Not as bad as getting stabbed through the abdomen, thank god, but still out of commission.

These past few nights you’ve really missed not having Cat around. The nightmares have been making it hard to sleep. Or… not even nightmares, just laying down waiting to sleep and a sound of leaves crunching sets your heart racing.

It’s not until the weekend rolls around that you feel stable enough to brave the throng of people at the Hospital to see Ortega. You try to rationalize it to yourself that Ortega needed the time for the surgeries to repair the damage from the attack, but that feels hollow even to you.

At least your identity is still secret, though it seems like a cruel twist of fate that now you have to go about not in costume in order to avoid having the press hounding you.

As you near Ortega’s room you slow your pace, hover at the edge of the door. There’s someone already in the room. A doctor? Don’t think so. Wrong feel for that. Who else would be visiting Ortega though? There’s still a queer soreness to using your telepathy. It’d be easier to try to spy a peak from the open door.

You peak your head around the frame and the flow of Spanish is cut off with a cry of “Ari!” from Ortega.

Shit.

“S–s–sorry, I d–don’t want to interrupt.” You shrink back from the doorway. “I can wait.”

“What are you, crazy? Save me from any more fussing, I beg you.” Ortega is sitting up in her bed with a clear view of the door. One of her arms is in a cast, but she urges you in with the other. 

As you step inside, the other person in the room becomes visible. An older woman, a little shorter then you with greying hair, same skintone as Ortega. Is that…?

Ortega follows your gaze, and gestures between you and the other woman. “Ari, this is my Mamá. Mamá, this is my friend I’ve been telling you about.”

You want to dig into that, talking about you? Saying what exactly? You don’t get the chance, Ortega’s mother catches you in a crushing hug with only the briefest of warning thoughts to brace yourself with. “Gracias por salvar a Julia. Thank you, thank you.”

You freeze up, manage an accusatory look at Ortega who only smiles back at you. A little dazed. Might still be on pain meds. You try to step out of Mrs. Ortega’s hold and she only squeezes tighter. “Uh– De n–nada…? You’re welcome…?”

“Julia is always making her poor mother worry sick.” Mrs. Ortega finally releases you from her arms, though she doesn’t let go of you just yet, hands on your shoulders. “If it’s not one thing, it’s another, always rushing into trouble.” Now that you now she’s Ortega’s mom, the similarities are obvious, right down to how she can command the room with her presence.

“Th–that sounds like C–charge alright.” You smile at her nervously, shoot Ortega another questioning glance. “Um, s–s–sorry, how do you know I’m…?”

Ortega rubs the back of her neck with her good arm. “Sorry, Ari. I tried to be coy, but Mamá’s always been quick on the uptake.”

“My daughter has told me so much about you,” Mrs. Ortega beams at you. You mentally underline that bullet point about having words. “It’s about time,” Mrs. Ortega lobs a quick accusatory glare at her daughter, “I got to meet the young woman that’s so enraptured my daughter.”

You can feel the heat radiating off your face. “Uh– enraptured!?”

Ortega’s laughter is panicked, voice pitching up a little. “Mamá can be very dramatic, aren’t you, Mamá?”

“Oh hush.” Mrs. Ortega mimes a shutting mouth with her hand, “I mean what I say and I say what I mean.”

“O–o–ortega…” Your own pitches upward, “W–w–what have you been telling your mother!?”

“Nothing personal, I swear!”

“Nonsense, there’s nothing to be so embarrassed about, either of you. Goodness.” Mrs. Ortega still has one hand on your shoulder, a warm expression on her face, and knowing smile that fills you with a dread you don’t entirely understand. “Fine, I’ll let you two birds be. I need to pack myself a proper bag anyway.”

“Uh– b–bag?”

“Mm-hm. Julia needs to keep that arm still while it heals. I’ll be–”

“I told you, Mamá!” Ortega’s face looks pained, embarrassed? “I can take care of myself.”

“Clearly you can’t! Not until that arm heals!”

“Mamá…”

The indignation on Mrs. Ortega’s face so perfectly mirrors her daughter’s that you can’t help grinning a little. “Aw. I th–think she’s being sweet.” Doesn’t she get how lucky she is?

“Not you too!” Ortega groans.

“It w–was nice to, uh– it was nice to meet you, Mrs. Ortega.” You give her a shakey smile.

“Mrs. Ortega?” She makes a face, then smiles at you, “A partir de ahora, puedes illamarme tía Elana.”

You blink. “T-tía? That’s– I mean– W–we just met.” The whole situation feels unreal. So much like her daughter, but different. Ortega always seems to be holding back a little, even at her most insistent. Maybe because you can’t read her thoughts? But Elana has no such immunity, and even to your presently weakened telepathic senses a clear and frightening level of genuine.

“And I hope to be seeing much more of you around,” She glances over to her daughter, voice gaining an edge. “Isn’t that right dear?”

“Mamá… I think you might be overwhelming her.”

“I– I’m f–fine.” You protest, “Th–this is fine?” You run a hand through your hair, pulling at the curls. You feel… something. What exactly it is you can’t name, but you feel it. Rub at your eyes with the back of your hand. “…thank you Mr.s Or– Tía Elana.”

“Thank you for taking care of my daughter, dear.”

“It– it was n–nothing… self-preservation, really…”