#the idea of having a server with just a handful of people sounds so nice

[c0zmo-writes]

I want to make a fun little Beetlejuice discord server so badly. Only problem is that notifications overwhelm me and I mute every discord server I join within two hours of joining it. I JUST WANT TO CONNECT WITH PEOPLE 😭

[storiesofsvu]

Decadent Desires Ch 4

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, alcohol, sexually charged conversations and situations, minor kinks slightly explored. Happy (early) Birthday @d33pd3sire-blog !! I hope you have a wonderful day!🩵🩵 (thank you for the kofi)

Emily was blessed with gorgeous weather when she woke up the following Friday, the sun cascading though the sky, flooding the city with the perfect warmth that would last through until the evening. She was pleasantly surprised that she was feeling considerably less nervous about tonight than she had been about your original meeting. Not that she had any better idea what she was doing or about to get herself into, but that she knew you were going to be a much better match. On top of finding you physically attractive she also enjoyed spending the evening with you, the conversation had flowed smoothly, you were smart, quick witted and there was an underlying hint of sexuality that you’d kept just beneath the first layer, ready to reveal once the discussion had finally shifted in that direction. And that was one she was more than eager to explore.

She made sure to arrive at the Conrad with more than enough time to spare, checking in and dropping off whatever she didn’t need in the suite before heading back down to the Summit. The rooftop lounge had an extensive cocktail menu, delectable food offerings and incredible views of downtown D.C. and The Capitol. She grabbed a table and ordered a glass of wine while she waited, looking through all the options on their menu.

The sound of your infectious laugh was what pulled her attention upwards a few minutes later, looking up to find you chatting with the hostess, gesturing in the direction of her table. You had a simple yet gorgeous plum cocktail dress on, the top dipping down to show more cleavage than the last time she’d seen you, the bodice nicely fitted while the skirt flared out. Your hair was loose, curled nicely and your makeup darker, more seductive as you gave her a little wave with a grin before walking over to the table.

“Hope I wasn’t keeping you.” You smiled.

“No, not at all.” She stood from the table, giving you the opportunity to take in her full outfit, form fitting dress pants and a gorgeous red blouse that showed off the curve of her chest perfectly. Her hand landed on your elbow as the two of you leant in, kissing cheeks before you slid into the other chair.

“How was the week?” You asked, picking up the cocktail menu to look through.

“Surprisingly good.” Emily replied, nearly confusing herself at the realization, “got a few of our snags figured out and the pile of papers in my inbox is finally smaller than the outbox.”

“Sounds like you need an assistant.” You teased from across the table, and she huffed a laugh.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think the bureau would like it too much if my signature was forged on everything.”

“Well at least you managed to catch a break.” You offered and she nodded.

By the time the server came by the two of you had managed to shake off any early jitters, slipping into an easy rhythm of conversation. You got a glass of sangria and Emily ordered the cheese and charcuterie plates, tempura shrimp, and scallops to share.

“So, I know you’ve been all over,” you started, taking a sip of your drink, “why choose D.C. to settle?”

“It’s a long story.” She chuckled, “but there were people I wanted to be close to, a few things to keep an eye on here. Just so happened to be close to Quantico.”

“Were you always interested in some form of law enforcement?”

“It was more about helping people, learning how to fully understand the whole psychology of it, why they do what they do. I was always interested in more than just chasing down the bad guys.”

“I’m curious then… why return to the BAU from Interpol?” You asked and Emily’s head titled.

“You know about Interpol?”

“You’re not the only one who knows how to run a background check.” You chuckled, “you may be the fed, but I still like to vet who I spend my personal time with, especially behind closed doors.”

“You’re smart.” She smiled, “I like that.”

“So?” You raised a brow, “what made Washington so much more appealing than London?”

“I missed it. That team had been my family for years and I wanted to come back to them. I knew there was a potential offer hiding in the wings that wouldn’t demote me in a sense and I wanted to help out an old friend. He only trusted me with the job, and I didn’t want the team to fall into jurisdiction of someone who wouldn’t do it justice or only wanted to disband them.”

“How’d you like Unit Chief compared to now?”

“Honestly I think I prefer it.” She laughed, “though I wouldn’t dream of stepping back down into it for the same reasons I took it in the first place.”

“Last thing you want is Bailey directly in charge of your team.” You grinned and she rolled her eyes.

“He’s got his claws deep enough in already.” She groaned.

“Too many politics involved with Section Chief I assume?” You raised a brow and she nodded, a look of near melancholy in her eyes as she switched her gaze to look out on the horizon. “You miss being out in the field, don’t you?”

“Paperwork is menial. And tedious. And so much of it seems entirely fucking pointless. When we were all mainly working from home still, it at least kept me occupied, tied to the job, like I still had a purpose. But now we’re back in the office, my team gets to run off into the face of danger and I’m stuck with the pencil pushers attending meetings that are entirely redundant. The only time I end up opening my mouth is to remind them the BAU is an integral part of the bureau, and they shouldn’t shut it down.”

“Sounds like it’s definitely about time you have yourself some fun.” You rested your chin on the back of your hand, a smirk on your lips and Emily chuckled. When she looked up at you, you could see her eyes darkening just the slightest.

“I suppose it is.”

You were interrupted before things could move further, plates of food now scattered across the table that you were both picking through, loading up your own side plates to get a little bit of everything.

“You mentioned UCONN last time.” Emily started, taking a sip of her refilled wine, “are you from Connecticut or did you just go to school there?”

“Born and raised, figured I may as well take advantage of a rent free college experience while I could.”

“Did you know Heather back then or was it just sheer coincidence?”

“Our parents ran in the same circles.” You replied with a huff, taking a bite of food and you noticed the very brief change of expression on Emily’s face before she managed to conceal it and you laughed. “Before you ask, no I’m not drowning in wealth. The Dunbar’s come from very old money and they’ve always been smart about it, they know how to invest, how to make money into even more money. I’ve never been able to understand it.”

“I assume your parents didn’t either?” She asked and you practically snorted.

“Not in the least. They liked to pretend they knew wealth, shove their way into all the fancy places and while the façade was enough to win over most people, it all came from an inheritance my mother got. Could have been worth something if my father wasn’t blowing it all away on fast cars while mother spent all of her days at the casino chain smoking, binge drinking and consistently losing.” You sighed, taking a large sip of wine, “I’m lucky there was enough left for my college education.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You shrugged, “the discrepancies between our bank accounts doesn’t mean the Dunbar’s were better parents or anything.”

“Oh, I’ve heard.” Emily chuckled.

“What about you? Good relationship with your parents?”

“It’s… complicated.”

“So, no?” You laughed, pulling one from her.

“Mother travels a lot for work, she isn’t based here. We tried to kinda work through things when I was younger but between our careers it just never happened, and I’m fine with that. Spares me the lecture about still not being married or giving her grand kids.”

You let out a louder laugh, “why does it seem that that’s any mom’s only concern with their kid’s lives? There’s more than one way to succeed and be happy and in my opinion that’s all that really matters.”

“Exactly.” Emily smiled across at you, “there’s so much more to be concerned about.”

“Mmm!” You suddenly changed gears as you took your first bite of a scallop, “these are incredible.”

“You haven’t had them?” She raised a brow, “I assumed you’ve been here before.”

“Yeah, Conrad’s a pretty high choice of stay for any visiting politician but I’ve only ever had time for drinks. Try them.” You urged, breaking off another piece on your fork and holding it up to her, your other hand cupped underneath it so it wouldn’t drip on the table. She barely hesitated, lips wrapping around the fork as you gently pulled it out of her mouth, not even blinking before scooping up the last bite into your own mouth on the same utensil.

“Oh my god.” She mumbled over the food, “you weren’t kidding.”

“You’ll learn to trust my suggestions sooner or later, I’m sure of it.” You grinned at her across the table.

“I have no doubt, you wouldn’t guide me astray, now would you?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” You smirked across the table at her, and Emily felt a tingle shoot through her body.

A few minutes later the server came by to clear the dinner plates and offer a dessert menu that you turned down, feigning to the server that you’d had enough, and Emily asked for the cheque.

“Not a sweets fan?” She asked, polishing off her wine and you chuckled over the rim of your glass.

“I prefer to get my sugar a different way.”

“So you are interested in moving this upstairs?”

“Well, I sure hope so. I was bargaining on more than just dinner tonight.” Your lips turned upwards in a sly smile that Emily returned, slipping her credit card back into her wallet.

She guided you up to the ninth floor, letting you into the suite first. A small entry way opened up on the left into a large studio space, a breakfast bar splitting up the counter where the microwave and fridge were and the sitting area. A circular table with two chairs, a small sectional that faced the television and a thin divider that hid the bedroom space, the bathroom connected to that.

“Help yourself.” Emily gestured toward the bottle of wine on the breakfast bar, and you wasted no time in pulling down two glasses from a cupboard to fill up. Sliding one across the counter to her you settled in on a stool, unsurprised when she returned with a file folder in hand. “To be completely honest, I’m not even really sure how to do this part.” She let out a slightly awkward laugh and you hummed.

“Don’t overcomplicate it. Think of it as a business transaction with a little bit of negotiation.”

“I guess that’s actually a good place to start.” She took a sip of wine, “I think the first step should be letting you know that this is exactly that, a business transaction. It’s casual, and I don’t want you to think of it as an exclusive relationship. I’m busy, we’re both busy, if you happen to see someone else that’s more than okay as long as everything is done safely.”

“Understood.” You slipped a sheet of paper from your purse, sliding it across to her before resting your chin on the back of your hand. “I figured you’d want a clean bill of health.”

“Thank you.” She tucked it into the back of the folder, “I guess money would be the next step?”

“I’ll save you the headache.” You snagged the agreement from her, eyes scanning the page until you found the blank lines to be filled in about allowance and picked up a pen. “I’m also giving you one hell of a deal, considering I don’t need to do this for money my rates are extremely low.”

“Noted.” She laughed.

“Considering our schedules I’m going to veto the allowance and say we just do a price per date, there’s likely weeks we’re not going to see each other, and I want things to be fair. One hundred for casual dinner and drinks or something of the equal amount of time that’s simply companionship.” You began to scraw notes out on the agreement, “two hundred for a date night and sex. Three for anything longer than a standard date and if you drag me to any of those horrendous FBI galas, I’m tacking on another hundred.”

She barked out a laugh, “more than understandable.”

“I expect you to pick up the tabs most nights, but if there ever is a day that I plan or invite you out onto, don’t feel obligated. Then treats and gifts are obviously welcomed and encouraged but that is up to your discretion, think of them as rewards.”

“And you’re sure about those rates?”

“Considering the costs hotel rooms like this will run you? Absolutely.” You laughed softly.

“Do you have preferences when it comes to gifts?” She asked and you scrunched your nose.

“Not particularly? Gift cards and cash obviously work, I could use a few new pairs of shoes, a dress or two, jewelry’s always nice, standard date type gifts. Could definitely use some new lingerie sets, and I mean…” you glanced over to her, that sly smile back on your cheeks, “new toys are always fun.”

“I do not disagree with you there.” She grinned back, “so let’s talk sex.”

“I am curious, is this about you needing to get off, relieve some of that stress and relax for once, or will you be the one fucking me into next week.”

“Christ.” Emily muttered, the tingling in her body moving lower, surveying you with a gleam in her eye. “I was thinking a mutual benefit but to be blunt I’m the one wearing the strap more often than not and I have no qualms with fucking you into next month.”

It was your turn to feel the fire prickling under your skin, heading south as you tried not to shift too obviously in your chair, “a confident woman with a cock? I love it.”

“You won’t be disappointed.” She assured you and you huffed a small laugh.

“I’m sure I won’t.” You took another sip of wine, “so let’s talk kinks. I’ll tell you right now the hard off the table ones are piss play, scat play, major pet play, age play, I’m not really into anything involving food in the bedroom and please nothing involving feet.”

“You can count yourself safe from all of that.” Emily laughed, pulling a warm smile from you, “I personally don’t like being restrained or blindfolded, but I have no issues tying you up.”

“As long as you’re not using work issued cuffs.” You noted.

“Do I dare ask?” She raised a brow in your direction.

“I dated a local cop in college, those things hurt.”

“Oh, I know.” She laughed back, “I’m partial to silk ties, it’s nice to keep things pretty.”

“Agreed.” You smiled at her before glancing back down at the agreement, flipping through the pages and she watched as your brow furrowed.

“What?”

“There’s nothing in here about how to address you.” You looked back up at her.

“I thought we went over that last week.” She laughed, “just Emily is fine.”

“No ma’am?” You asked and she was very quick to shut you down.

“God, please no.”

“Most women like the title mistress, or mommy.”

“Oh…” Emily’s nose scrunched, “I guess I hadn’t thought about that….”

“I mean some do go with daddy if you’re more inclined.”

“Is that like, an all the time thing? Or just in the bedroom?”

“Could be either. I’ve heard of relationships where it’s constant and I do find that over the top but every once in a while in bed, it’s kinda hot. I mean after all, one really just wants to be a good girl for mommy.”

Emily paused, letting your words sink in for a moment as she tried to figure out how she felt about the whole thing, especially considering she was about to be your sugar mommy.  “Let’s… bookmark it for later.” She looked up at you, catching a small nod but it was the wicked smirk on your face that caught her attention first, “what?”

“Nothing.” You shook your head, “I’m just not that surprised you might be intrigued. I heard you had quite the fun time entertaining Benjamin Reeves last month.”

“Oh god…” Muttering, she dropped her head, running her hand over her face and you let out a playful laugh.

“Walls really do talk.” You teased, flipping through the rest of the file, “speaking of…there’s no NDA in here?”

“I didn’t think it was necessary.” She shrugged, “there’s a piece near the end saying anything involving my work that comes up in conversation isn’t to be publicly aired anywhere but that’s all I really need.”

“Well,” finding the piece you scrawled your signature under it, “you don’t have to worry about me running to the press. Your secrets are safe with me.” You flipped the papers back in order and closed the file, sliding it back across the counter to Emily before scooping up your wine glass to walk around the counter. “Now… I do believe we’re done with the boring part…”

You approached her where she sat on the stool, your wine glass coming to rest on the counter only an inch from her own as her body turned toward you. Her hand found your waist, nudging you closer to her so you could slot yourself between her legs while she leant forward, her free hand brushing your hair back from your face. You could feel her breath hot on your skin, lips parting ever so slightly as you leant in, eyes flicking from her own down to her mouth, the distance about to be closed when there was a sudden, very loud, and repetitive buzzing on the counter.

Emily groaned, her eyes falling shut as her head fell back and you let out an annoyed huff.

“I swear to god if that’s fucking Heather I’m resigning.” You reached towards your phone at the same moment she did.

“Nope, it’s me.” She opened the screen, groaning again as she read the text messages, “and I have got to go.”

“Political crap or serial killer?”

“Serial killer.” She stood from the stool, her hand squeezing your wrist while she leaned, kissing your cheek quickly.

“Go save the world.” You raised your wine glass in a salute to her as she grabbed her bag from the couch.

“Please, finish the wine, feel free to stay.”

“I’ll take the bottle home.” You replied.

“I’m sorry.”

“No need.” You assured her with a soft smile, “next time.”

“Oh. Guaranteed.” She nodded, “get home safe. I’ll text you when we’re back.”

“I look forward to it.”

With another apologetic smile she was gone from the suite, leaving you to dump the remnants of her wine glass into yours, wandering up to the window to take in the city views as you finished it.

_______________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @five-bi-five-mind @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @hotchs-bitch @ollysmulti @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @hopedoesntknow @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx @momily @nilaues @borinxnovak @soverign @v3nusxsky @blackbird-brewster @mccdreamys-writes @l4yne @obsessedwjill @supercorpstan97 @asolitaryrose3 @honeyycatt @trauma-factory @lisqueen @mrs-prentiss @whitewinewithice

[mrslankyman]

Cold as Diamonds

Fanfic for my friend, idk what she sees in him 🙄

Montague (fortnite) x reader

Warning: slight smut

This was the task. Make it to Grand Glaciers and steal Montague's diamond necklace. Which sounded easier in Jonseys head.

For you how ever it would prove to be an unsuccessful mission. With an interesting out come.

You made it over the snow. Grimacing at Jonseys idea of an entrance. You weren’t a well known member of the under ground. You mainly did your work behind a mask. Covering your face. Now you were out without it.

The goal was to ask for help. Montague was hostile you knew that. This was a risk. Get caught and you could end up like Peely.. or worse.

So you made your way down the snowy landscape to the door. A few henchman swatted around. Around you questions. You gave them your best act. Crying and stating you needed somewhere to stay. After all the rich people on the map needed to protect the people. Or else they slip and lose power.

They reluctantly agreed and let you inside. The mansion was nice. A large stair case in the center of the first room. Leading up both ways to the second floor.

“Montague will see you soon.” One of the henchman said watching you as you took a seat on one of the many couches. Just looking around at the books on the many shelves around you.

You mentally took note of any escape routes. Or any ways to get back inside if this went well.

It had been a few minutes. Mind you perhaps an hour. Foot steps came behind you. A throat cleared and a French accent hit your ears.

“Hello.” A simple greeting was given. You turned around. Your eyes took in the man before you. Maybe you’d seen his profile on Hopes computer. Maybe you’d see his file I.D photo but damn.. he looked better in person.

The scar on his eye made him look even more intimidating. The large diamond necklace that laid on his neck was what you came here for.

“Hello.” You stood up quickly giving a weak smile. Playing into the act.

“You need a place to stay I hear? Or help. You have come to the right place.” He smiles but it didn’t seem friendly. It seemed sinister. Like he knew something. But what?

“Yes.. please I need a place to stay.” You agreed eagerly and smiled hopefully. He nodded and snapped his fingers. One of the henchman walking over. “I want you to set up the room beside mine for her. Make it cozy.” He ordered giving the guy some kind of look. He nodded in understanding and hurried off up the stairs.

“Come on. Let’s go get you some dinner.” He cooed in your ear. Was he flirting? Or trying to come off as polite.. the best way you’d assume these rich ass holes could.

You followed him down to the dinning room. It was as you suspected. Grand a large. With a huge table. Despite that he sat beside you at one of the side chairs. Offering you any food you’d like.

A cook would come out and server you both. Laying down the dishes. He thanked them and shooed them off. You noticed he wasn’t carrying his gun you’d always see him with in photos. Interesting. Maybe he had his guard down.

“So, where do you come from?” His voice was low and his accent was giving off a sort of.. vibe. His eyes would land on you as you ate. “Pleasant Plaza.. I had no clue how I got over here. First thing I remember was being in a car and then landing in the snow.” Your story wasn’t a lie. Jonsey set it up like that. Making sure any of the cameras here saw a car and you getting thrown out just a little ways off.

“How terrible.” His hand laid on your thigh with a sympathetic look on his face. Was his accent always this seductive? “I’ll take care of you.” He smiled and leaned closer. The diamond around his neck glistening in the light. His eyes looking deep in mine.

“I’ll give you a gift.” He smiled and got up. He walked out somewhere and came back. Holding a rock. He sat down and smiled. “See this?” He looked at the rock then you. A smirk on his face “yeah..?” You answered confused. He covered the rock with his hand and squeezed. Opening his palm, showing a diamond sitting there now. No rock in sight.

“For you, mon amour.” He bit his bottom lip. He was definitely being seductive. Your heart skipped a beat slightly. Your face flushed. What was happening? He was the enemy.. but he was really attractive.

“Come come, I’ll show you your room.” He slid the diamond into your hand. Giving a quick smile before heading down the hall. You followed quickly not wanting to get lost inside the mansion. It be embarrassing telling Jonsey you couldn’t succeed in the mission because you had gotten lost.

He opened a room door and inside made you gasp. You had never seen such a decorated and suffocated room. You turned to look at Montague who had already made his way over to the bed. “I hope you don’t mind, the sheets aren’t the.. most girly.” He chuckled to him self, they were a deep navy blue.

“It doesn’t really matter.” You shrugged and sat down on the edge. This mission could last 1-2 days. If you aren’t back by 3 Jonsey was sure to send in people.

You almost felt bad. You had to take all these people down. It was what was best but.. it be such a waste of a handsome face. He sat down beside you. Letting himself relax a little. “You can stay as long as you like.” His voice was low again. The privacy of the room made your heart beat faster. He was definitely a charmer that was for sure.

“Thank you.” Your voice was soft and lowered to the same tone as his. He leaned in closer. His eyes having this alluring affect on you. “I don’t think I’ve seen someone as beautiful as you in a long time.. I don’t go out much. With all the threats I get.” He slid his hand ontop of yours. A smirk tugged at his lips. “Do you think I’m handsome, ma chérie?” His lips were so close to yours.

You hesitated. Do you just go for it? Perhaps it’ll confuse him. Enough for you to succeed in the mission.

You leaned in and let his lips touch yours. His being cold yet smooth. Your lips were warm and chapped. Contrasting his. He groaned and pulled you closer. You let out a slight moan letting him push you down on the bed. He pulled away and smirked down at you.

You put your hand on his cheek and smiled. His face flushed and he kisses you again. You closed your eyes and let it happen. He grew tired of his coat restraining his arms. Sliding it off and letting it fall to the floor.

His gloved hands gripped your hips. He smirked as you unbuttoned his vest. Taking it off and leaving him in his black dress shirt and pants.

His diamond necklace still hung at his neck. He loomed over you a playful smile on his face. “Didn’t suspect this.” He leaned down and kissed your cheek. “Nor did I.” You answered honestly.

Part of you knew this would help the mission. Another part of you just wanted to keep going out of selfishness. Montague is very.. attractive. It’s not like this wasn’t what you wanted.

Especially how he kissed you and went down to your neck. He didn’t even know your name but his sweet words like darling, love, and sunshine we’re enough for you.

Things escalated and you laid between his legs on the bed. He smirked down at you as you slid onto his lap. Grinding slowly. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Letting him self enjoy this.

A plan popped up in your head. As you grinned into him you leaned closer. He fell into a hazy feeling. Not having full thought.

As soon as he was too far into bliss you leaned even closer. Using one hand to you grabbed his necklace. You had already found an escape route in the room: get the necklace and jump out the window. There wasn’t that far of a drop. You’d make it out and head to the rail road. Hope had secret passages around.

Once your hand went to his necklace his eyes flung open. He grabbed your hand. A smirk on his face. Your eyes widened and your thoughts froze.

“I knew you were up to something.” his voice seethed. You glared at him your demeanor changing quickly. You squeezed his dick he groaned in pain and you ripped off his necklace. You got off the bed and ran to the window.

Montague struggled to get off the bed. Half embarrassed he’d get caught like this. He should’ve known you were one of those under ground agents. He couldn’t lie you did attract him. Even now you still did. But he wouldn’t let you tell the tale of how embarrassing you got his necklace.

His cold hands grabbed your shoulders and spun you around before you could leave. You gripped the necklace.

You struggled against him before he slammed you against the wall. His hand gripping your throat.

“You little bitch. I knew you were up to something.” He shoved you against the wall harder. Your eyes widened. His were icy cold. His brows furrowed and hands soaking the breath out of you. His gloved hands didn’t make it easier for you to get out of his grip.

“Let me go!” You struggled. Dropping his necklace. He grabbed it and laughed. “I’m gonna teach you a lesson.” *he leaned closer his eyes growing even more sinister.

He gripped his necklace hoping the power still worked. He threw you against the wall again. Shards of diamonds bursting through the wall. You stared at them. They were sharp and sparkled in the room light. You soon turned back to him. You could feel your self slowly growing colder. What was he doing?

You looked down. Your skin on your neck around his hands were growing blue. Crystal like diamond. Was he turning you into diamond?

“Montague! Wait- I’ll do anything!” You squirmed. He laughed and let go of you. It was too late. The spot he had touched would always be diamond. A reminder of his touch.

“Oh I have a good plan for you. I think your friend Peely will love to have some company.” He flew his hands down at your feet. Diamonds bursting through the floor. Your feet turning to diamond. You fell off.

A shard of diamond piercing you through the back.

“Tell Jonsey he’s never gonna see his friend again.” Those we’re the last words you heard before the icy cold feeling of the diamond coursed through your body.

[writing-blog-iguess]

“What did you say?”

You hadn’t meant to say it, not now in the middle of enemy territory. Not while in the middle of an assignment. You hadn’t meant to say at all, it was supposed to be your secret until you died. Because you knew in this line of work, love doesn’t work. You’ve seen it happen first hand, experienced it yourself.

But you let three words slip out of your mouth like you say it everyday. Three words that could ruin everything. Either the assignment or your friendship with Ethan, you weren’t sure.

So, you closed your eyes for a minute to collect yourself before facing him head on. “It’s not important,” you said, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. To the people around you, it looked like an innocent kiss, to you it was goodbye. “Come on, we need to finish this before anything else can happen.”

“Hey,” Ethan started, but you shook your head and turned around, leaving the room as quickly as you could.

“So that happened,” Benji said in your ear. “I thought you weren’t going to tell him.”

“I wasn’t,” you hissed, slipping through the door and turning left when Benji told her to turn. “It slipped out, Benji. And now I don’t know what to do.”

“Talk to him is what you do,” Benji suggested, “Only thing you can do at that point. Oh, next door to the right, and then keep walking until you reach the last door. That should be where the servers are.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to happen,” you said, following Benji’s directions. Looking around, you made sure the coast was clear before slipping through the door. “I’d rather die than confront Ethan and the love I have for him.”

“I think he might,” Luther said, startling both you and Benji. “Ethan deserves that much.”

“I second that,” Ethan said next and you wanted the floor to open up a hole to swallow you whole. Reframing from smashing your head against the wall, you pulled out the USB that Benji gave you, and started looking for the right server.

“Benji,” you hissed. You heard him sigh, and imagined him hanging his head. “I thought this was a private line?”

“Yeah, oops. Now you’re gonna say you’re gonna kill me, I know,” he said, sounding resigned to his fate. Good, he knew what he did wrong, wasn’t the first time you threatened his life. Makes the next thing to say easier.

“And I’m going to make sure it’s nice and slow,” you said, and ignored both Ethan and Luther’s chuckles. And Benji’s that’s new. “Now which server do I need?”

A few hours later, with the assignment completed and the world saved, you found yourself in your hotel room, changing into something more comfortable. You tried not to think of Ethan’s surprised face as you said them, tried not to think about what happens now. You’ll just have to request not to work with Ethan again. There’s no way you could face Ethan now, you don’t think you want to.

A rapping against your door brought you back from your thoughts as you turned towards the door. Scrunching your eyebrows, you wondered who it was this late. Moving to open the door, you didn’t check to see who it was until you were face to face with Ethan

“So, you love me huh?” Ethan asked, smiling. You puffed out your cheeks and went back into the room Ethan followed behind.

“No idea what you’re talking about,” you mumbled, picking up the pile of dirty clothes and stuffed them in a bag. “It was a slip of the tongue, it was nothing.”

“Didn’t look like nothing,” he pointed out, you only shrugged. “Didn’t sound like nothing. How long?” You didn’t answer right aways, not wanting to but Ethan wasn’t having it. He walked towards you and reached out to lift your face so you were looking at him. “How long have you felt like that?”

“Mm, a year or two,” you finally answered. He raised an eyebrow, and you could see him thinking.

“And you weren’t going to tell me?”

“Relationships don’t really work in what we do, you know that,” you answered with a shrug. “Why bother saying anything when it’s just going to end in failure.”

“So, you were just going to keep it to yourself and not even give me a chance to decide?” Ethan questioned, moving his hands to cup your face. All you could do was stay there, staring at him. You were stuck and you didn’t want to move.

“Yup.”

He shook his head, and leaned in closely that your noses brushed against each other. “Not fair when I love you too.”

You blinked at him, trying to process what he said. “Huh,” was all that could come out. He smiled and leaned in, pressing his lips on yours. He pulled away, and you pouted at the lost.

“I said, I love you too,” he repeated, “and I’m sure we could work something out if you want to.” You thought about it, maybe it could work. Maybe you could have your happy ending. Maybe.

“Okay Hunt,” you finally replied, “if you think this could work, I’m in.”

He gave you a big smile that made your heart dance in your chest, and he leaned forward and gave you a proper kiss. One that held everything he was feeling for you and more. You returned it, and knew that this could work.

[sergeantgoggles]

I am DEEPLY offended that the jessixcase family au was left out of the list, so I'm going to demand you tell everyone else about it 💙

I am also deeply offended that I forgot to add them to the list! Especially because it’s one of my favorite AUs!

This is a No Order 66 AU (and Hardcase doesn’t die on Umbara) where the clones win the war and start to integrate into society. Jesse, Kix, and Hardcase are an established throuple and end up being given an apartment (or renting, but I like the idea of them just being gifted a whole ass apartment). Kix remains active, choosing to further pursue his medical studies and becomes a surgeon on Coruscant. I can’t remember if Jesse and Hardcase pursued jobs, but I’m pretty sure Jesse stayed active with the military to help Rex and Cody. Either way, not super important to this AU.

What IS important is that they adopt two baby clones before the Kamino facility gets shut down. One of them is a little older, 4 years, and the other is still barely a year old-ish.

Meet Cosmic (Coz) and Vi.

Coz is a proud, fiercely loyal kid with blond hair (like his Uncle Rex) and heterochromia (one hazel, one violet eye). Vi looks nearly identical to Kix, even more so when he gets older and cuts his hair the way his daddy does during the war.

(Note: Kix is Daddy, Hardcase is Papa, and Jesse is Buir.)

Anyway, I could actually gush about them forever, so I’ll just post a little snippet of stuff that we’ve talked about in the server about them because this family makes me so incredibly happy and we don’t talk about them enough.

.

Kix comes home from work in the morning and falls asleep on the couch with his baby while he and his older brother watch cartoons.

He gets them some breakfast and then lays down. Vi abandons his breakfast and crawls up onto the couch with his daddy and falls back asleep with him. (Vi is the cuddle bug of the family).

Jesse wakes up to feed them and finds Coz sitting on the floor with a box of cereal in his lap and Kix sound asleep to the sounds of Blue's Clues and Vi faceplanted in his chest.

Coz  quietly waves and whispers, "Hi, Buir!"

Jesse's heart melts and he sits down next to Coz, asks if he can have some cereal, and Coz passes him the box. Jesse eats a handful and asks Coz if he wants anything else for breakfast

Coz just grins and leans against his side. "I want eggsssss."

Jesse snorts and hugs him. "Eggs? I can do that."

He turns to try and prod Vi awake because he shouldn't be sleeping that late, but he whines and buries further into Kix, which stirs Kix. Kix is exhausted, but he sits up with him and tells him he has to eat breakfast. Vi agrees, but only if Kix stays with him. So, Kix, tired, sits through breakfast, though he's thankful for a hot, Jesse-made meal and stumbles into bed with Hardcase after Jesse gets the boys started for the day. A hot meal with his babies, some sweet kisses from Jesse, and a cup of his favorite (non-caffeinated) tea goes a long way toward healing the stress of an overnight shift, and a nap with Hardcase is a perfect way to finish it.

Kix asks if he should wake Hardcase and Jesse shakes his head.

"He was up late. I can handle the boys and take them out for a few hours. Besides, you know he sleeps better if you're with him."

Kix just smiles. He feels bad because his job doesn't allow a lot of room for switching schedules, but he is always happy to crawl into a nice cool bed in a room darkened by blackout curtains with one of his favorite people.

[floral-atom-collective]

When did you guys discover you were a system? ^^

ooooh complicated questionnn

Theres multiple points where we could say "this is when we figured it out" but I'm just gonna go in order here

1 ☆* This is a little bit vague but we were able to identify different headmates pretty early on, we talked to our brother about how we communicated between ourselves to process what was going on

At the time we had Apricot, Shire, Avery, Aspen, Kiwi and possibly some others

Everyone had different names and had very loose identities. They were still headmates of ours just very simplified since that was what Apricot needed at the time

2 ☆* Some time a couple years ago, we were very involved in the alterhuman community on yt [ not fantastic to be fair but it was kind of nice, we found some good people <3 /p ]

There was one channel we really enjoyed watching and they had their own server

Said server was multipurpose, for alterhumans and systems if I remember correctly

Since we were introduced to the concept of being a system we did some research and found that, yeah that sounds like me

Only problem was we didn't accept it because the server we joined was anti-endo and we were very sure we did not have enough trauma to be a system

This definitely halted our syscovery because we solidified the idea that endogenic systems were harmful and if we identified that way we would be harmful

3 ☆* This is about where we are now! This part happened very very slowly but whatever

On our old blog that we no longer use we ended up following a good handful of plural people. It was likely we followed them because we have similar interests and/or they were alterhumans

This made us research the concept of systems again. We still denied it, we hadn't met any endogenic systems yet

There was a point where we started using we/our on our old blog and we kind of panicked in our intro post saying something like "I might use we/our sometimes but I'm not a system!!!"

[ Well.. as it turns out we are soooo ]

Eventually we found the pro-endo spaces. We slowly but surely accepted we were plural and left our old blog [ our boundaries weren't upheld there, we needed a new start. With new boundaries and new identities ]

So yeah, long winded explanation but it kind of happened in three parts

:]

Thanks for the question, it honestly helps us to understand what even happened in our past. Provides a good archive for newer or more confused headmates :D

[firefly-inkling]

Inkling HRT 02: New Friends

Silver has her 3 month appointment, as her transition is going smoothly. Meanwhile she works to find an online support group and make new friends

Inkling HRT: Month 3

-Beak and radula have fully formed! No more teeth brushing, but stuff gets stuck in the radula :p

-Head-tentacles are starting to form, they’re this really pretty light blue with a darker blue gradient at the end

-Skin is a lot smoother and acne cleared up

-Eyes turning silver? Like my name.

-Ends of ears are pointed!

-Mainly waiting on the photophores and shapeshifting now…

Silver was not looking forwards to her 3 month follow-up with the doctor. But wasn't that a given? Erian's methods were sketchy, advice questionable at best, hell, his office was in a back alley, and not able to be viewed on Google Maps. Silver had no idea how he wasn't arrested for some medical malpractice type bullshit, but well.

It worked.

She runs a hand down the ends of her hair, starting to form into head-tentacles. Feeling the cold and slightly squishy skin, which is a light blue in color.

She makes sure her camera is on, link open.

Silver takes a breath.

~~🦑~~

“Ah, hello Silver. I'm glad to see your treatment going well.”

The doctor nods, and Silver can hear his fingers tapping on the table.

“I'm aware. Though I've got to ask, you mentioned a lot of painful internal changes- how do I deal with those?”

“Oh yes. 6 months in. You'll be getting painkillers around that time. I assume you have somebody to look after you during this window?”

“I have a roommate who can. I trust him.”

“Good.”

The air is quiet for a few seconds.

“Are there any online or in person support groups for this treatment?” Silver asks. It's something she's thought about for a while- being able to talk with people like her, choosing to shed their humanity in exchange for something more comfortable.

“I unfortunately have... some laws I must follow. So you will have to look on your own.”

Silver groans.

“But I'm sure it'll be fast. Anyways. Your refills should be able to be picked up in a week, and I will be seeing you in a few months- before the internal changes start to kick in. Goodbye, Silver.”

“Goodbye.”

~~🦑~~

Once Silver closes out of the zoom call with Doc Eria, she can feel a weight lift off her shoulders. Being around him was always so stressful, even a bit meddlesome.

Luckily he'd be off her back for a few months now.

Silver then opens up her browser, and starts searching up terms.

“Human Replacement support group”

“Furry HRT Chatroom”

“Human Replacement Discord Server”

It's hard, but soon she finds it. A small community online, only about 30 people- targeted at those going through humanity removal, or are considering it.

Needless to say, the young woman joins.

It's what one expects from a Discord server, with a few extra rules around not making assumptions around species, be kind to those considering humanity removal, the like.

Silver verifies she read the rules, and then makes an intro post.

“Hello! Or should I say woomy? Anyways, I'm Silver, 3 months into Inkling HRT (Firefly squid). Was looking for a community or support group, and here I am! It's so nice to meet all of you!”

Silver then starts to browse the server, coming across a section for questions.

“Hello! So, during my first appointment, my doctor said I was lucky to not have a 'crossroads state'- what was he talking about?”

She checks her intro, with squid and paintbrush reactions, which seems fitting enough.

Then she gets her answer.

“It's mainly a thing in people transitiooing to a non-humanoid species; assuming that's why he said you didn't have one. Basically, it's a point where the person must consider if they want to fully shed their humanity and live their lives out as that animal, or just be an 'anthro' version of it.”

Silver is a bit surprised. It. It sounds like a lot to the woman. But she also understands in a way- wanting to fully shed your humanity, run away, and never look back.

“I see. I guess I also have another thing. My medication set comes with this crystaline pills. My roomate has made so many Breaking Bad jokes but I have no idea what the hell it does.”

She leaves it at that. Besides, it's time for dinner anyways.

~~🦑~~

“So, how did the meeting go?”

Silver sits down at the dinner table of her apartment, where her roomate Bradley is cooking food. The two weren't dating or anything along those lines- just living in the same place and splitting the rent. Bradley had been fairly encouraging of Silver's transition; even if he was a little confused, he got the spirit.

“The doc wants you looking after me in about 3 months from now. Since apparently I might be in a lot of pain during that time period.”

“You know why?”

“Inklings have different organs, 3 hearts, no bones, and assuming that's gonna be what happens to me.”

“Ouch. But yeah, can take a bit off work for it, or can grab one of my friends to also help.”

“That would be nice. What's for dinner?”

“Pasta. Made crab ravioli.”

“Nice.”

Bradley take a pot off the stove, and splits the ravioli between two plates.

“Bon appitiet.”

The two eat in silence, with Silver focusing on her food. She had been eating a lot more lately, with the pamohlet saying it had to do with increased metabolism. She had also started to eat more seafood- to the point where stuff like vegtables barely seemed appetizing.

At least she could eat carbs in moderation.

Once she's done, Silver puts her dish in the dishwasher, and heads to her room.

~~🦑~~

Her question was answered while she was eating with Bradley, by a user with a wolf profile picture.

“Oh, I've heard about that from people transitioning to more fantastical species. Like dragons and stuff. It does a funky thing with DNA but I'm not the person to ask about that stuff.”

“I see. Interesting.”

Silver then starts browsing the server, getting to know people. There's people choosing to transition to all different types of creatures, along with those hoping to get on humanity removal, but cannot due to finances or other outside situations.

It seems like she has a place where she belongs. All that's left for the next few days is to settle in.

[dnalt-d2]

QSMP 2024 THINGS

OH BOY OH BOY IT'S THAT TIME AGAIN

TIME TO TALK ABOUT THINGS THAT HAPPENED TODAY, HOW I FEEL, AND THINGS I PREDICT

To start off with, I maintain my stance of "Fuck that Rabbit." I never liked the Duck, and this fucking camera-staring-at Rabbit is irritating me even moreso. May he perish in the flames of capitalism that he has created

Also fuck that narrator guy. He has no right sounding so jovial

(And god I can't believe the Duck really never did anything SERIOUSLY FUCK THAT GUY /lh)

Regarding the paywall thing, I kind of like the idea of it in certain increments. I know that Etoiles has been praying to any deity that will listen for the Nether to open, and I'm sure he's happy to know he can pay those deities off now. On the other hand, I've already seen a decent amount of discouragement on the lack of Create. I'm hoping that's the second thing to get unlocked for both Tubbo and AyPierre's sakes

And in terms of the reset itself, I also like the idea of it somewhat. I'm sure I'm not the only one who sometimes likes to start these types of games over for that fun feeling of playing from the ground up. Though maybe the mobs should be a little weaker, since everyone's starting from scratch. Then again, Etoiles has like a million Dark Metal, so

It's also nice seeing the beginning of these communities. Phil becoming Cellbit's temporary neighbor before he begins his nomadic lifestyle. And of course theres the up and coming Home of Fobo where definitely no one is Homophobic

Though speaking of Phil and Cellbit, I also maintain my disappointment in the lack of actual rescue mission. Like I was excited for that. I made a comic about it. And while my disappointment doesn't come from my comic being wrong, it does come from the fact that this was a thing that an ADMIN introduced. RICHAS went to Phil to recruit him for the mission, just for them to just do a little cinematic instead. Like I'm guessing this has to do with the delay in the server opening, since it was originally going to open about a week ago. My guess is that the rescue was going to happen this prior week, but because of the delay in opening the server, they decided to nix the rescue entirely and just have them show up on the opening day instead. It sucks, but I guess that's just how the cookie crumbles

AND NOW PREDICTION THING

So remember how Bagi at one point said that the Admins asked them what structures they'd like to have preserved for NO REASON AT ALL????

And how everyone spawned at about -200000 blocks away??

Well I'm kinda hoping that there's some of the original structures, back near that Zero Coordinate. Or maybe there's something else. Obviously I have no basis for any of that, but I think everyone's gonna be upset if they really lose all their builds. Specifically the Dragon, Titan, and Bad's as-of-yet unused Egg Carton. He labored over that for a while, it would SUCK if it just never got used at all. My other hope is that there's a pay-goal for bringing some structures back. That'd be a neat way to incorporate that feature. Not to mention that people who might've been in the middle of projects can get back to said projects. I think that's the main problem with losing everything, a lot of plans have essentially been destroyed

And now an Analysis

So fun fact, you know how Ducks and Rabbits are both heavily associated with Easter, which celebrates the death and rebirth of a certain person?? And how the server has essentially been reset and reborn??

Yeah that I guess, that's all I've got on that really

All I've got in general really

Here's to 2024, everyone. And the further loss of sanity we and the Islanders shall all endure

yee

[tirfpikachu]

doing some research on making my own tirf zine :] i want to put lots of (respectful) radfem debates within the community, interview trans & detrans radfems and tell their stories, maybe showcase the work of some radfem artists and photographers too!! and i'd love to also include interviews of some tra & terf povs to add diverse opinions on complex topics between the lgbt community and radblr. i might genuinely name it radblr, as cringe as it sounds lmao. or call it tirf with an i. either way this was just a random idea but for funsies i'm gathering some folks in my tirf server who have different sets of skills and just learn more about what it would even look like if it did become a real thing. again, this may or may not end up happening, but at the very least it sounds like a fun thing to play with and learn from. i do want to self-publish my tirf book someday at least initially until i find a publisher who's not afraid of publishing ~controversial~ content or whatever lol. so this could be a nice way to dip my toes into that world y'know? either way it's an exciting thought!

i would want to charge only the price of the publishing cost for the people ordering it online, with the option to pay more to support the zine. i mostly want it to be about community building!! boosting voices that are so often silenced, and showing people the fascinating discussions that can happen between radfems and tras and how we can all try to actually figure shit out instead of endlessly fighting. i also want to show how varied radfem opinions are, and how they aren't always "terfy" the way that tras assume. i would love to have people share the zine within their irl lgbt/leftist community too. and help other radfems make their own zine too!! idk, i really want to start doing more tangible activism <3 i think holding in our hands something about the radfem community we're in could be super empowering!

[moonfurthetemmie]

ahem

i had a sudden burst of Idea and did. this.

some inspiration is taken from a friend who wrote a terrifying little bit about two particularly powerful spirits fusing. i don't know if i'm allowed to disclose which ones, because i don't think the one's creator has said anything about him outside of The Discord Server(TM), but. yes

(i'm mostly kidding about the 'idk if i can tell you who it was' bit; it is admittedly an excuse to not brain more words because i am Tired and spat this out in a couple of hours so i've used up my alloted braincell time for toight)

this is...one of many possible ways that one of my new fucked up little shits could've happened

Sophism

There was quite the crowd in the town square. Enough that they hardly needed anything more than hoods to cover their heads. Hushed murmuring and gasps of horror told them that, whatever was going on, it wasn’t good.

Nightmare could sense someone ahead of the crowd. Or…many someones? There was so much positivity and negativity that he couldn’t tell, no matter how hard he tried to focus on them.

They could hear yelling ahead. Angry yelling, for sure, though one was far more emotional than the other. The voices were familiar, but they couldn’t place them. They’d come here to have some fun, but it seemed that everyone in town was here. It would be hard to grab anyone without someone noticing. Even if that hadn’t been the case, the three were far too curious about what everyone was watching, now.

As they pushed through the crowd, the feeling that something was terribly wrong grew and grew.

Cross could swear she knew the least angry-sounding voice. Even as she racked her brain to figure out where she knew it from, the mere sound of it made her blood boil. It was getting clearer as they reached the front, though.

Error had noticed several odd noises that they couldn’t hear from the back of the crowd. As they got closer, she only became more confused. One sounded like woosh-ing sound effects put on sword swings in a video game. Another, much less frequent, was the sound of wood cracking; occasionally accompanied by a dull thunk.

The closer he got, the more obvious it was to Nightmare that there were two people in front of the crowd. Both furious, one far more hateful than the other. The hateful one had so many negative emotions, it was almost impossible to tell what any of the others were. But the other, aside from their fury, seemed perfectly content with…whatever was happening.

A few rows behind the front of the crowd, the two’s emotions suddenly become much, much stronger. Almost suffocating.

He realized who it was, as his very soul started to burn from how close he was.

Cross and Error, upon coming within range of the auras, realized what was happening only a split second after him. Against their better judgment, they continued pushing forward; almost shoving people out of the way now. 

They made it to the front just in time to watch a man with black hair use thick, slimy black tentacles slam his opponent, a man with orange-gold wings, into a tree. The force made the trunk crack and splinter, and yet the winged man stood. The black tendrils, made of pure negative magic, burned, dried out, and crumbled from touching such a concentrated source of positivity. But the winged man’s skin had begun to melt on contact. 

“...Oh, god.” Nightmare breathed. “It’s them.”

“You just don’t know when to give up, do you?” Obsidian snarled. He pulled his tentacles back, but clearly had no intentions of retreating. His shirt had been torn open, somehow. Or perhaps he just never bothered to button it in the first place.

“Neither do you, it would seem.” It had been a very, very long time since Nightmare had seen Dream angry. He suspected Obsidian’s aura of negativity had a part to play in that. He seemed to have lost his jacket somewhere, and had rolled up the sleeves of his nice dress shirt.

Obsidian’s hands crackled with electricity. “I’ve never been beaten in a fight, and I’m sure as hell not going to let the first time be to an overgrown chicken with a god complex!” 

Dream fluffed up his wings and readied his sword. Christ, when was the last time Nightmare had seen that thing in use? 

“Why do his arms look like that?” Cross whispered hoarsely. “And his wings! Holy shit, did Obsidian do that?”

Nightmare and Error had thought that it was sweat dripping from Dream’s arms. To their horror, they realized that it was his own skin. His wings, which were always shedding to begin with, was now dropping feathers in globs.

“Obsidian’s covered in burns, too,” Error pointed out. That, at least, the trio had noticed. Awful patches of sizzling skin, anywhere Dream had hit or touched him. There were several hand prints, some clearer than others, on Obsidian’s arms and chest. “I guess corruption can fuck with radiance just as much as radiance can fuck it up.”

“You’re welcome to try,” Dream hissed, which made the trio–and the rest of the crowd–step back. “I will not let you terrorize my multiverse as you do yours.”

“Bold words coming from a bastard who can’t even be bothered to do his own dirty work,” Obsidian sneered. “When was the last time you even used that thing?”

Dream’s eyes tightened. As he launched himself into the air, and the effects of his aura weakened with the distance, Nightmare wondered how much pain Dream was in. How long had this fight been going? And how long could Dream keep it up? 

Like a hawk after a hare, Dream dove for Obsidian, aiming right for his head.

At the same time, Obsidian sent a bolt of indigo lightning powerful enough to cause thunder at Dream.

There was a wet shink! sound that the three friends were very familiar with as Obsidian yelled in pain.

He had tried to wait until the last second to dodge, but Dream had still skewered him through the stomach. Dream’s entire body seemed to be melting, now; the lightning clearly hadn’t missed its mark, either.

Obsidian’s eyes burned with a fury stronger than any single person should’ve been capable of. Before Dream could react, Obsidian grabbed Dream’s arm and wrapped his tentacles around the radiant’s neck. 

“You think you’re so clever?” Obsidian snarled. Steam rose from his hand and tendrils. “I’m dragging you down to hell with me, you son of a bitch!”

Dream, gasping for air, let go of his sword and tried to ascend, to pull himself out of Obsidian’s grasp, but Obsidian yanked on his arm and he fell to his knees. The crowd started to panic. Yells of alarm and calls to get help, but most of them seemed as frozen as the Meme Squad was.

Nightmare couldn’t believe what he was seeing. How could Dream have let this arrogant bastard kill him? Was this a nightmare? Was this how they were going to die?

For a split second, Dream caught Nightmare’s gaze. His eyes widened. Nightmare sensed surprise and a twinge of guilt before Obsidian grabbed Dream’s shoulder and pushed him to the ground.

Horrible burns were spreading all across Obsidian’s body. Dream was melting faster than ice cream in a microwave. 

Am I going to melt, too? Or am I just going to drop dead? Christ, I hope I just drop dead. Nightmare’s heart pounded in his chest. He felt sick. Was it starting? Was he dying? Or was it just fear?

As Dream and Obsidian’s bodies stilled, Cross and Error enveloped Nightmare in a hug. 

They didn’t say anything; they didn’t know what they would say. But they didn’t need to say anything. Nightmare gripped their arms, and the three of them closed their eyes.

…But nothing happened, except for the crowd’s murmuring going silent.

Nightmare realized that the crowd’s silence wasn’t from grief. And, at the same time, that Dream and Obsidian’s auras hadn’t faded.

In fact, they almost seemed to be…

Nightmare’s eyes snapped open.

The steam that had come from the contact of two so violently opposing magics, rather than dissipating, had coalesced into a cloud of fog around the bodies. It became thicker, and thicker, and Nightmare could see both of them start to change.

Obsidian’s skin flaked off like ash, but rather than sinew and muscle there was only a black, iridescent sludge. Dream’s skin melted off entirely, revealing a ball of orange-yellow light.

“Guys.”

Error and Cross hardly heard Nightmare’s horrified whisper, but they looked up in time to see the pure radiance and corruption begin to move before the fog completely obscured them.

“Wh…What the hell was that?” Someone in the crowd said, their voice shaking. 

“Maybe…maybe that’s just what happens when spirits like them die?” Someone else said, though they didn’t sound very sure.

“No.” Nightmare’s voice was hoarse. He didn’t even notice the crowd’s terror at his presence; his eyes were fixed on the cloud before them, and the auras within. “They’re…They’re not dead. I don’t know what the fuck is happening, but they’re not dead.”

“What do you mean they’re not dead?” Someone demanded. “You saw that too, didn’t you? They don’t even have bodies anymore!”

Nightmare grip on his friends’ arms tightened. “No. If me or Dream dies, the other one dies, too. But I’m still here. And their auras haven’t faded. It…It almost feels like they’re-”

A strangled gasp came from the fog. Everyone jumped back, except for Nightmare, who’s horror and terror had frozen him in place.

“...Fusing.”

The fog quickly faded. Standing where Dream and Obsidian’s bodies had been was an odd man with brown hair, and wings of orange light with indigo feathers. His eyes were mostly white, but those in the front of the crowd could see the hints of orange in one, and indigo in another.

The man looked like he’d just woken up from a nightmare. His hands shook. His eyes were wide with fear and confusion. He slowly looked down at his own hands.

“Oh, god.” Nightmare’s voice was weak. “They did.”

“That- that can happen?!” Cross whispered, loudly. 

“Fucking apparently!”

“I think this is our cue to leave,” Error said. Despite the casual tone she used, her hands trembled as she made a portal. 

Without a moment’s hesitation, Cross and Nightmare followed her through it. 

Before it closed behind them, they heard a familiar-yet-not voice; confused and scared.

“Why…?”

[nathaniels-diary]

If we were villains review

I think the book was so sure about their concept and relied so much on the dark academia aesthetic that the execution became sloppy.

The first two chapters were fine, all the foreshadowing, the introduction of the characters. It’s a really original concept and an intriguing start. And of course I have to say the structure is quite nice, the five act play is a clever and creative idea, but the characters feel flat. The antagonist doesn’t feel mean enough, just some guy who is full of himself, and then suddenly he is way too mean for what happened, it sounds so unnatural and forced. There is no nuance to the character. Nothing that makes you “love and hate him at the same time”, or whatever it is the author tried to achieve.

The rest is not better, while the concept with the archetypes is, again, such a cool idea, the actual characters are just so boring and bland. They are not complex morally corrupted people they are just…well some normal sorta dickish kids? They don’t have the theatrics, the Shakespearean extremism that they would need to convey a story like this one. I dont care about any of them, I don’t get their motivations or who they are, which is essential for a story so heavily relying on faceted characters. They feel like a mean dramatic middle school group that just kicked one off the discord server, they just seem so goofy. The way the group falls apart feels so insignificant cause I don’t know the group anyway.

The best written group member is arguably James, who has the most compelling story arc and character. With him being the one that injured Richard and running away and also him breaking Olivers nose he has done some immoral things. All the others aren’t even allowed to do that. Its like the author thought the ONE event, not helping Richard, painted everyone half-heartedly in an evil, indefensible, rotten light so the other 350pages have to convince me that they are good people that all love each other like a family and they are oh so perfect, maybe sad, paranoid people that made some mistakes but with an oh so good soul. That’s not what makes an intriguing character nor plot. I want to hate them more. Or love them more. Or at least be able to feel SOMETHING gripping before getting an excuse for their behaviour that wears everything down shoved in my throat.

Also for a book that is trying to tell you “You can justify anything if you do it poetically enough” the writing style is way to flat almost fanfiction for my taste.

But to say a nice thing too: the Shakespeare quotes are beautifully embedded and the author obviously put a lot of effort into the research. Also, I gotta hand it to the book I desperately needed to give my opinion after finishing it so somehow it moved me to further deal with the story, and that’s what literature is all about isn’t it. Especially the big reveal that James heavily injured Richard was so unsatisfyingly written. Just James telling us dully about the event was just anticlimactic.

In conclusion, I really tried to like this book, I really did, but that was not it.

(If you liked one of us is lying tho you will like it(okay sorry I have to stop throwing shade at this book))

Also sidenote: you shouldn’t compare it to the secret history just because they are both dark academia novels set in college involving a group were one of them dies. Their essence is SO different and they should be allowed to stand alone and not in presents of the other.

[do0zy-artz]

Your Love Is Like A Wave (And It's Drowning Me Out) - 9k Words

A series of Majorwood drabbles, starting in Double Life and going through the next season, and bleeding into New Life as well

Or: 9k words of majorwood just for all of you 💖

A03 Link

Martyn is currently sitting by a cobblestone box, giggling to himself slightly. Said cobblestone box contains Jimmy, a red life, who he and the rest of his weird little quartet of yellows managed to kidnap. He doesn’t know exactly why he’s giggling though.

Well he kinda does, because this whole thing is a little funny. Jimmy still has air, and can see the sky, so for now he’s just loudly complaining and calling for his rancher to come to rescue him, all the while slinging curses at the other four. Pearl’s sitting on the edge of the box, dangling a hand in ever so often. Like the caged canary were some sort of wild animal that could bite at any moment, instead of ya know their friend? (To be fair Jimmy had tried to bite her once, but it probably wasn’t serious. Probably. )

Cleo is closer to him than Pearl is, making her own comments and jabs about the situation. And sandwiched right between them is Scott, and that man is the whole reason why Martyn isn’t sure why he’s giggling.

Making fun of Tim like this is always funny to an extent, but at some point Martyn’s brain laser focused on Scott and decided to never focus on anything else ever. Pearl and Cleo might as well not even be here, and Jimmy is only there to his brain because of his near constant back and forth with Scott. The man is close to him, very close, and taking quite a good amount of joy in teasing his former husband. All Martyn has been able to think about for the past five, maybe ten minutes is the sound of Scott’s voice and how nice his laugh sounds.

He already knew he had sort of a thing for Cleo. That was a given, they were soulmates, and Martyn was very weak for pretty people. But he wasn’t expecting Scott to be lumped in as well. It’s not like there was anything wrong with Scott, or that he wasn’t attractive or something. It’s just that their relationship has never been….positive in these games? And especially not now that Cleo hates him.

He ends up staring apparently, and maybe looking a little too taken with the man beside him at one point. Scott does catch his gaze for a moment, but that doesn’t stop Martyn from zoning out and staring. Cleo does though, her icy undead gaze seeing right through him. He looks aways, ears turning a little red, just as they hear Tango’s voice coming from over the hill.

“Ya know he’s into you, right?” Cleo says one day.

“What?” Scott mutters back, having literally no idea what they're talking about. “ He ” could literally be eleven other people on this server, most of whom claim to be in a happy relationship or something. So for their sakes Scott hopes the mysterious he does not like him, even if being a homewrecker and stealing Bdubs’s dream would be kinda funny.

“Martyn, he’s into you.” The zombie repeats herself, giving him a slightly unimpressed look. “You’ve noticed the staring, right?”

“Yeah,” Scott huffs, looking back over the ravine. “But I thought he was staring at you, because you were right next to me, or he was being…..being well Martyn. ”

“ Oh you’ve got to be kidding me!” Cleo exclaims, looking at him like he’s a ghost. “I caught him staring at you the other day and he blushed! ” They look like they’re ready to grab Scott by the shoulders and shake him for being so oblivious. He also gets the vibe that she’s trying to push them together for some reason, which is weird because the zombie absolutely despises that man right now. Scott would know, she’s told him as much on late night “our soulmates suck” rants.

He hums in response, deciding that looking anywhere else was better than meeting Cleo’s gaze at the moment. She was giving him a look, one of those I can’t believe your this stupid looks.

“Pretty sure I’m not into him, so…” Scott mutters after a moment.

“You were staring dreamily at his base when I brought that up.”

He opens his mouth to reply, but promptly closes it when no words come to him. He’s not into Martyn, wouldn’t be in a million years. Even that sounds like the words of a man in denial, and Scott has to stiffen a sigh; eyes now purposely staying very far away from where the blonde's ugly little baston lies. It is always there though, in the corner of his vision, tempting him to look over again.

Martyn sat on the edge of the island, humming absentmindedly to himself; feet dangling in the water below. He was taking a break for…whatever he’d been doing before, and was now just watching the grass slowly spread across the manmade island, pondering all the while. He wasn’t pondering anything bad, no not at all! He didn’t have anything bad to ponder about in the first place. He loved being a Mean Gill, and was very grateful that Scott had allowed him to stay. There was just a slight, erm, issue .

His little….lets call it an infatuation from the previous season had come back. It was in full force too, to make matters worse.

Martyn could feel himself blushing red at the thought, and tried very hard to stop that. How would he explain sitting there, randomly red as a tomato, to anyone who saw? Because TIES could very easily see him, and Scott was probably somewhere nearby. The awful, pretty, beautiful, absolutely horrible man that was making him like this in the first place.

The blonde kicked at the water, watching it ripple and splash. Why did emotions have to be so weird?

Ever since he’d teamed up with the man, Martyn's thoughts had become filled with nothing but Scott. He’d laid awake, bed agonizingly close to the others, and thought about how pretty his eyes were. How he could drown in them and wouldn’t even complain. He thought about his hair, how soft it looked, how he desperately wanted to play with it and run his fingers through it. He thought how not only did Scott have fish features now, which were a little hot honestly, he also had freckles; which were fucking adorable , actually? Martyn didn’t even know he had a thing for freckles or fish people before, but you learn something new everyday he supposed.

He thought about pressing kisses to each of Scott’s freckles, of holding his face and cuddling him late in the night. He thought about how he always had to keep his gaze away from Scott’s lips, how he had to ignore the impulse to kiss him out of the blue because that was weird and wrong and Scott didn’t even like him back.

Martyn kicked the water again, with more force this time. He watched the ripples and splashes again, ones that were now more forceful, and was aware that his face was probably souring a little.

It was never like this before, never like this with Ren. With ren they’d just…. been something from the start it felt like. Maybe that was because Ren’s affection was loud, something he wasn’t shy about; so Martyn hadn’t been shy either. That feeling had burned pleasantly, it had been all consuming and the light he clung onto in the darkest days.

But now Ren wasn’t here, and Martyn didn’t have that light, that comfort . Martyn didn’t have that all consuming fire anymore. He’d been a little taken by them both he thinks, in Double Life. But back then Ren was bright and familiar and well….his usual self. Scott had been hurt, had been colder, would sneer at him and Pearl after throwing them out. It was hard to admit a guy was pretty when you saw his actions drive someone closer to insanity is all. (Though Martyn had also left her, which he felt bad about in hindsight, but at the time it was never their fault to his head. It was always Scott and Cleo ; they were always the bad guys . And now he knows there were no bad guys in that situation, that yeah maybe all four of ‘em kinda sucked and treated each other like shit.)

WIthout Ren, without the complications that came with soulbonds, this feeling had creeped up on him. It had ensnared him and wouldn’t let go; it’d stuck its tendrils in him and he couldn’t pull them out. And Martyn didn’t want to let go of it either, because Scott made him feel warm and fuzzy and bright and he adored it. He adored him , even if this was the most painful unrequited slow burn he’d ever been tangled up in.

Scott’s voice called his name from somewhere behind them, presumably their shared house, and Martyn jumped. His heart skipped a few beats in his chest, and dear god the blonde could feel himself swooning and he wasn’t even within bloody eyesight of Scott yet. He took a deep breath, tried to calm his probably flushing face and stood up, wincing at how soaked his sandals were. Yeah, maybe this was more than an infatuation , and he’d be an absolute idiot to keep thinking that. Maybe he was a little down bad, if you must. Maybe he had a little crush even.

He called back to the other, slowly walking back. He briefly thought about the teasing flirts Scott gave him, and the ones that sounded a little too shy, when Scott flushed the slightest bit of pretty light pink as he spoke. Those were the ones Martyn didn’t think were his teammates normal “flirt with every man in a five mile radius” bit. He thought, desperately hoped, that they were real.

And if Scott was going to flirt so much Team TIES asked about it once, why not play into the bit a little more? Martyn normally wasn’t one to be shy with his affections like this, and just because Scott made him feel like a lovesick schoolgirl, made him feel like no one else ever would, didn’t mean he had to be.

Martyn reached their storage room with a smile and decided yeah, he'll have some fun with this. Maybe he’d get a yes or no at the end of it too.

They're standing there, talking with Jimmy when it happens. Scott’s forgotten why they were at the mansion in the first place really, just that they were there. The conversation had turned to friendly teasing at one point, as it always does with the blonde avian. The two Mean Gills admittedly aren’t very good at not taking the mick out of him.

Today the teasing is because of how Jimmy looks at them both. His gaze is shifting in between them, focusing on the way Martyn stands a little too close to Scott; close enough to be something more than friendly. Close enough where if he wanted to, Scott could easily slip a hand into Martyn’s warm ones and never let go.

The two islanders exchange a subtle little look at one point, and it’s clear both of them have come to the same conclusion. His teammate turns back to Jimmy, a devilish little smile dancing on his lips, and Scott is a little excited (and maybe nervous) to see what he does with that new information.

"What Tim?" Martyn teased lightly, a smirk forming on his face. "Ya jealous that your ex got a new partner?" And oh . That’s where Martyn’s taking this. Scott’s breath hitches slightly, and he hopes the other two don’t notice as the word partner starts to repeat over and over again in his head. The word is soon on loop, like it’s coming from a broken record player, and Scott has to tell himself it means nothing. They're not partners….like that . They’re base partners , allies , and most disappointedly just friends ; even if half the server does think otherwise.

Scott gets a grip of his reeling thoughts after a moment, replacing them with curiosity. He decides to say nothing, and let Martyn go…wherever he’s going with this still.

"No." Jimmy replies a moment later, his voice stiff and controlled. He's still looking at them, and at how close they are. He isn't fooling anyone with that, because they can both see the jealous glint in his eyes and how his wings have puffed up behind him.

"You sure about that?" Scott gave the blonde a smirk of his own, a little more light than Martyn's was. He didn’t want to actually upset Jimmy with the teasing, just to poke a little fun at him. He'd also be a massive hypocrite if he made the other man feel bad or something about being jealous, because he'd literally been jealous of Tango and Jimmy last season.

However, and a little frustratingly, Martyn seemed to be working against him. The blonde moved, and before Scott knew what was happening there were arms around his waist. He blinked, feeling heat rise to his face as Martyn hugged him from behind. The blonde rested his head on Scott's shoulder, nuzzling into his neck a little. This man was horrible actually, Scott decided, and he didn’t like him at all anymore.

Jimmy caught his surprised look, and the merfolk desperately wished he didn't blush so easily. It was clear that the blonde was surprised as well, because that was a bold move Martyn had just done. The avian glanced between them one more time, clearly gathering that this was unexpected, before speaking again. "Yep, pretty sure. Goodbye now!" He huffed.

With that Jimmy turned away, clearly not wanting to witness anymore of their PDA, and scrambled his way back to the top of Bad Boy Manor. Martyn just giggled lightly next to Scott's ear and moved away.

When they returned to their island, Martyn did it once again. Scott had been standing in their little newly built storage area, searching for a material he swore he put in that chest. It almost wasn't a surprise when his teammate took a chance to hold him again, warm arms wrapping around his waist again.

"Hey" Scott whispered, letting himself lean into the touch this time.

"Hi" Martyn responded, resting his chin on Scott's shoulder once more. He heard the triumphant smile in the blonde's voice, and presumed there was blush spreading down his neck. His face felt like it was on fire, so that wasn't too surprising either.

"Was Timmy actually jealous back there?" Martyn asked against his neck, having started to nuzzle it again. Scott was really hoping that no one decided to come over right now.

"Yeah, he was." He responded, letting out a small humorless laugh.

"Probably shouldn't have pushed him so far huh." Martyn sighed. "Especially not doing….this." He'd stopped nuzzling Scott, and just buried his head in the crook of his neck instead. Scott shivered, able to feel the others warm breath ghosting over his gills and scales.

"It's fine, I'll message him later" Scott said, finally resuming his search for that material. He’d been so wrapped up in Martyn's presence, he hadn’t even realized he'd stopped doing that.

He let silence fall for a few minutes, Martyn watching as he shuffled through a seemingly endless pile of items, and listening to Scott’s mutters about how badly he needed to organize their stuff. He felt the blonde smile against his skin, before swaying them gently. This whole interaction felt so….domestic, and Scott wondered if he was wrong for wanting more.

"This is nice, though.." Scott muttered into the silence, barely audible. His frills swiveled back in embarrassment, and he felt his face start to heat up even further. There was a sudden, barely there heat against his neck, and he was pretty sure he'd made Martyn blush as well, possibly for the first time that day. It was a small win, but he'd take it. Scott had one point so far and Martyn had like five probably. Yeah that was a good guess, and Scott wouldn't be surprised if it was more. That man was very good at flirting, he had to admit.

Martyn nuzzled him again as a response, and warmth fluttered wildly in his stomach. Okay then, never mind. Martyn six , Scott one.

"I need to move, Martyn." Scott mumbled when he was done searching, fondly glancing at the other. He would love to stay like this, but he tragically could not reach the crafting table from here.

Martyn mumbled something unintelligible and maybe a little grumpy, before starting to let go of Scott’s waist. Before he let go fully, when his hands rested nicely on the merfolks hips, he leaned down to press a small kiss to the side of Scott’s neck. He pecked the other right under where his gills lay, sending yet another shiver to course though Scott.

Scott stood there for a moment, eyes wide. Hadn’t been expecting that when he woke up that morning, that was for sure. He placed a hand on his neck, feeling around his gills absentmindedly. He felt Martyn’s sly smirk on him as the blonde turned and left the room, walking back towards the upper part of their house.

Martyn hummed, standing beside Scott idly. The latter was talking with Cleo about something or other, something Martyn wasn't interested in. He wasn’t here for chatter, he was here to protect Scott. No one had tried to come from them yet, but his teammate had the most time by far. And he'll be damned if he lets anyone take that away.

Maybe he ends up staring at Scott and zoning out, just like he did back in Double Life. But by now Scott’s used to it, because Martyn can't help himself from looking at something so beautiful. By now Scott is already prepared to tease him for it on a moment's notice, so it's not a big deal like it used to be.

It had taken a while for Martyn to notice this consciously, but he found Scott's fins adorable. He liked the way they moved, how they shone and shimmered under the sunlight. They folded in when he was embarrassed or flustered, which made Martyn want to flirt and fluster him even more. And the freckles, again. God how he wanted to press kisses into each one of those.

He was blinked out of his thoughts by Cleos mildly amused gaze, and the wonderful sound of his merfolk voice.

"Did you hear me, darling?" Scott asked. Beside them, Cleo failed to muffle a wide grin.

Martyn stood there for a minute, cogs beginning to turn in his head. Scott had called him darling. Darling . He concentrated a little too hard on his rapidly beating heart, on not losing his composure and turning red a tomato, that he entirely missed the awkward silence that stretched out after the question.

"Martyn?" Scott asked again, giving him a slightly concerned, yet amused, look. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah I'm fine, perfectly okay!" Martyn smiled back, voice going a little higher than intended.

"Okay!" Scott smiled, turning to resume his conversation with Cleo. The merfolks smile had been a little slow and mischievous, and Martyn wanted to shrink into himself in embarrassment. Scott now knew that he was weak for pet names, and was sure to use that against him very often from now on.

Cleo just leaned in to whisper something in Scott’s ear, something that made him flush. A little perplexed, Martyn watched as he slapped her lightly on the arm; the zombie giggling all the while.

There was water rushing all around him, blood pumping through his veins and pounding in his ears. Water splashed nearby, and Martyn turned to kick at Jimmy again. The avian, who was foolish in the water when he had wings, just coughed up a bit of blood, Martyn’s shoe having caught him in the face slightly.

Jimmy wasn't made for swimming, and the yellow wings just made it harder for him too. They started to drag him down a bit with how thoroughly soaked they were getting, which made Martyn's job just a smidge easier. He knew Jimmy kinda hated swimming, so the fact that he was in the water was a testament to how desperate everyone was for time.

"Scott? Scott!?" He called, desperately splashing in the shallows by their island. He couldn't see Scott anywhere, and panic behind to swirl violently in the blonde's stomach. Where'd he go? Did someone get him? What if he's dead, what if-

"Martyn!" Scott's answering yell came from the other side of the island, a few feet off, and Martyn wished he hadn't called out. Their others now knew where his teammate was as well. Which was fine, he could handle that, he just had to swim faster.

He reached Scott in record time, having to kick and fend Jimmy off at least two more times. The other pursuers were gaining as well, and Martyn had never been more relieved to see Scott’s living face, a sword clutched closely to his chest.

"Scott!" He gasped, swimming over till they were floating face to face. They were farther out than Martyn had initially thought, but he didn't mind at all. Deeper water just made it easier to drown people. Under the water, Scott grabbed his hand and squeezed.

"Martyn! Martyn you have to kill me please!" He exclaimed, casting a fearful look over the blonde's shoulder. They could hear splashing sounds, ones that were getting rapidly closer.

If they had the time for it, Martyn's brain would've slowed down, long enough for him to sit there and gape at Scott, horrified, for at least a few minutes. But they didn't have time, quite ironically, so he just squeezed Scott’s hand back and yelled. "Why?" He asked, voice close to breaking. "I can't do that to you Scott, I-"

The merfolk cut him off by placing a hand over his mouth. "I don't want anyone else but you to have my time!" He said, staring serious into the ocean blur of Martyn’s eyes. Scott’s tone started out harsh, but turned softer with each word.

" Please. " He begged one last time, removing the hand from the blonde's mouth. Martyn said nothing for a moment, letting Scott’s sword be shoved into his own hands. He hadn’t even used it and the weapon felt dirty to hold, as if the mere suggestion was tainting it.

Under the surface two sets of legs moved to keep their owners afloat, and a tail flicked in a wild panic. Behind them the splashing got even louder, till it was roaring in Martyn's ears again. It was then he realized he didn't have a choice, did he? And pulled Scott in closer.

Scott’s breathing hitched, from fear or something else Martyn didn’t know. His hands shook, but he managed to get a surprisingly firm grip of the sword. He was going to burn it later, and make Scott a newer, better one, one that didn't remind him of one of the worst incidents of his life.

His eyes flicked down to Scott’s lips, then thought better of it. Martyn knew he didn’t want to do it this way, so he moved to press his lips to Scott’s forehead instead.

The merfolk let out a strangled cry of pain, the sword being shoved through his ribs. As he pulled the cursed weapon out, Martyn moved closer, eyes pressed shut. He peppered more kisses to Scott’s forehead, to his hair, muttering comforts; that it wouldn’t hurt for long. He buried his nose into Scott’s soft blue locks and murmured that he was sorry, tears falling from his cheeks. He did so until Scott had despawned, and there was nothing but the murder weapon for him to hold anymore. The thirty minutes that washed over him felt disgusting and vile, and he almost couldn't wait to die and lose them.

Martyn stayed there, floating on exhausted limbs, until the splashing was gone, until the roaring in his ears stopped, and until he felt okay enough to go inside and see his teammate once more.

He broke down anyways, poorly retrained tears dampening Scott's now yellow jacket. The merfolk said nothing, just let him cling to his chest and cry.

"Martyn?" Scott asked, voice groggy with sleep. He'd been awoken by shuffling sounds from somewhere else in the house. At first, he'd assumed it was Martyn using the restroom or something else you normally did at one in the morning. But then the sounds had continued, and woken him up again less than ten minutes later. He was pretty sure it was just Martyn, but got up to check anyways, in case they were actually being robbed or trapped. He didn’t wanna wake up in the morning by being exploded after all.

“Martyn?” He asked, stifling a loud yawn. Scott now stood in the doorway, his hand gripping it as he watched the blonde prepare what seemed to be some sort of drink. "Oh sorry." Martyn said, turning to face the other man. A hot mug of coffee was held in his hands, the distinct smell of it quickly crowding Scott’s sleepy senses. "Can't sleep." He mumbled the explanation a little sheepishly, like Scott would be bothered by his teammates having one off night in a death game.

He was going to not think about how the other man made coffee in a server with limited resources, because as far as Scott knew this map did not have a jungle for cocoa beans. Though it might, in the unexplored area. He wouldn’t know though, because it was unexplored and it was also one in the morning. Scott simply waved a goodbye, stifling another yawn as he turned to tiredly shuffle back to his bed, the blonde's gaze on him all the while.

An hour later, when Martyn still hadn’t gotten any quieter, was when Scott decided to make him sleep. Or else.

"Oh shit, sorry-" The blonde said a little blearily when Scott walked into the room for a second time.

"Why can't you sleep?" Scott asked bluntly, hands resting on his hips. There was a certain bit of annoyance in his voice, he was sure of it. Scott was aware he probably looked like some sort of sleep deprived, scary mother of three, but if that was the look needed to get his question answered, then so be it.

"Nightmares…about the, ya know…" Martyn seemed to shrink into himself, and not because of his teammates' tired gaze burning holes into him. He sounded so small, voice getting smaller with every word he spoke.

"No, I don't know." Scott huffed, a little more gently this time. He removed his hands from his hips, and walked till he could sit next to Martyn. The blonde had been leaning against one of their bookshelves, back looking uncomfortably pressed into the wood. Scott sat beside him now, legs crossed and a softening look on his face.

“About yesterday.” Martyn managed to choke out after a minute, hands tightening around an untouched mug of coffee. “Everytime i close my eyes all I see is you in the water….bleeding because of me.” His eyes stayed firmly focused on the dark liquid in his mug, gaze clouded and full of self hatred; if Scott wasn’t mistaken.

He didn’t think about it, just reached over and pulled Martyn into the best side hug he could muster. The blonde stiffied under him, and the merfolk could tell he was stopping himself from returning the embrace. “It’s not your fault, I told you too.” Scott mumbled, burying his face into Martyn’s shirt best he could.

“I know….” His teammate just gave a low murmur of response, slowly setting the mug of coffee on the floor next to them. Martyn moved to give him a proper hug, and Scott clinged to him like a koala clings to a tree; hoping it conveyed what he was thinking. He thought that Martyn blaming himself was stupid , because he’d asked him to do. Scott had wanted Martyn to kill him, he wasn’t bothered by it at all. He also thought he wanted another kiss, maybe in a different place than the forehead, but that wasn’t a good thing to do right now.

The blonde didn’t pull away, just held onto him tighter, moved the merfolk into his lap and buried his face into Scott’s hair. He didn’t even bat an eye when he felt the blonde’s body wrack with quiet sobs, just tried to get even closer and offer more comfort, trying to communicate that it wasn’t Martyn’s fault, because Scott had a feeling this stupid idiot wouldn’t listen to him if he just said it. He had a feeling he needed to show that it was okay as well.

Martyn didn’t cry for long, and they ended up just sitting there, holding each other until Scott had an idea. It was one of those ideas that was either going to go horribly and ruin everything, or shift something else in their dynamic. He was really hoping it was the latter as he untangled himself from Martyn, slowly getting to his feet. The other just looked at him with undisguised curiosity.

"Come on." Scott sighed, taking Martyn’s hand in his. The blonde blinked as he laced their fingers together, and Scott basically pulled him to his feet fully a moment later. The darkness of the night did its best to hide the blush spreading across both men’s cheeks, all the while Scott led Martyn back to their shared sleeping area. The other grip on his hand was tight, squeezing, and he pretended not to notice.

He let go of Martyn’s hand, albeit a little reluctantly, to move the potted plant that separated their beds. He felt a questioning and curious gaze on the back of his neck, the blonde watching as Scott quickly put their beds together. He wasn’t sure his bed would fit both of them, so he decided it was safer to just pull a Bad Boys and push all their beds together. "Don't be weird about this. It helps with my nightmares." Scott said over his shoulder, turning his head to look at his teammate.

Martyn looked a little dumbfounded, his eyes flicking between Scott and the now double bed. If either of them were in a more awake state of mind, the merfolk was sure one of them would’ve made some sort of inappropriate joke. Not that Scott would’ve minded sharing a bed that way, just not right now when he was tired and Martyn was an emotional wreck.

He flashed Martyn a fond yet toothy smile, and patted the sheets before moving to lay down. Scott felt the blonde join him under the covers a minute later, and drifted close to the warmth almost unknowingly.

They laid awake together for a few minutes, before one of them finally gained some confidence. Martyn, probably thinking Scott was asleep, moved closer. He wrapped his arms around the merfolk slowly, eventually holding the other in his arms fully. Scott held back a content little sigh, fully melting against the blonde. He snuggled even closer, back comfortably pressed against his teammates chest.

The two woke up in a similar position in the morning, holding each other and legs tangled together. They didn’t comment on it, Martyn only muttering thanks, and that it did help his nightmares. Scott said he’d push their beds apart later.

He never quite got around to doing that in the end, but Martyn never complained.

Scott blinked in the dim light, Martyn now leaning over him slightly. Oh . He was being pressed against a wall, their underwater hideout suddenly becoming more cramped and small than it already was.

"I thought you were gonna die back there." The blonde mumbled, resting his forehead on Scotts. His eyes were firmly pressed shut, and his body seemed to relax for the first time all day, shoulders sagging. Stress lines seemed to litter his face as well, and the merfolk hated to be the cause of them. Scott’s gaze softened, pressing his own forehead against Martyns in return. I'm here. I'm alive.

"I didn't die, not yet anyways." The last part was added with a humorless chuckle. Martyn didn't find it very funny, as his face scrunched up even further.

Scott apologized by placing a delicate hand on his cheek, gently thumbing it and Martyn readily leaning into the touch. The blonde's own hands went to rest on Scott’s waist almost unconsciously, and he leaned into it with a quiet sigh.

Scott slowly titled his head to the side hesitantly, only once the blonde had opened his eyes again. It was only after Martyn himself leaned forward did Scott feel confident enough to close the gap between them, pressing their lips together softly. Martyn melted into the kiss rather quickly, which surprised Scott. It had honestly been a spur of the moment decision. He hadn’t expected Martyn to reciprocate at all, or do so readily. Martyn's lips were warm against his own, and Scott quickly realized he found it intoxicating.

One of his hands begins to tug at Martyn's hair, trying to pull his ally even closer. Martyn responded by nicking his bottom lip, and eventually slipping his tongue into Scott’s mouth, deepening the kiss. Scott happily let him, muffling a pleased little noise. Warmth fluttered in his gut, the blonde's tongue mapping out the back of his teeth, as the merfolk finally got what he'd been wanting for weeks now.

Martyn whined softly when Scott pulled away after a second, panting. Scott giggled, his frills puffing out in joy. Martyn just recaptured his lips again, Scott letting out a surprised chirp and melted into the contact even more than he had the first time.

When they parted again it was Scott's turn to whine at the loss of contact, but he understood why they'd separated so soon when he felt kisses peppering the rest of his face. The blonde kissed every part he could reach, Scott’s cheeks, his forehead, his freckles and his nose. Scott smiled, cupping Martyn's face in his hands after the other left one particularly risqué kiss on his upper neck.

They both leaned in for a third and final kiss. It was soft and chaste, and tasted sickly sweet, and everything he wanted and more. Afterwards Scott wrapped his arms around the blonde's neck, letting his weight rest on the other. Martyn just rested his head on top of the merfolks lovingly, kisses occasionally being pressed into soft blue hair.

"I love you." He said, voice slightly mumbled as he pressed his face into Martyn's shirt

"I…" The blonde seemed a little lost for words, a little choked by some emotion that Scott couldn't discern at the moment. "Yeah, me too" Martyn mumbled just as quietly, wrapping his arms around his teammate and holding him tight. Scott made a contend purring sound from the back of his throat, and allowed himself to be lost in the moment.

It was all he needed to say.

It was a nice day out, a calm day, and the Mean Gills had decided it was a good time to spend the day together. It was getting later and later into the game, and quiet days like this were becoming more rare and much more valuable. Martyn wanted Scott all to himself for as many minutes as possible that day, really he did, before the manhunts started up again and people were trying to take his partner’s from him. Time with his beloved wasn’t a thing he was willing to waste anymore, not after the first hunt for Scott and the end of it, one that still made him wake up in tears.

They stood at the side of the house together, Scott having surprised him as he went to feed their chickens. Martyn giggled, the other wrapping his arms around the blonde’s neck pulling him in for a slow kiss. He leaned into it as he always did, the pleasant feeling Scott’s lips now achingly familiar to him.

The blonde soon put the chicken feed into his inventory, sensing that the merfolk wanted to take this just a little further. And oh Martyn was so not opposed, he was the opposite of it really. Scott nipped at his bottom lip with unusually sharp teeth, and Martyn allowed the other's tongue to slip inside his mouth with ease. One of his hands went to rest in Scott’s hair, occasionally pulling it.

They parted for air after about a minute, both of them smiling and panting just a little bit. Scott looked at him lovingly, one hand beginning to play with Martyn’s ponytail idly. The ponytail was a new thing, he had figured now was a good time to try and grow his hair out, because what else did they have to do other than not die? The decision had paid off greatly, Scott saying he liked the look very much.

Martyn hummed, leaning down to place a kiss on Scott’s jawline. The merfolk giggled above him, and he took that as a sign to place even more. The kisses slowly started trailing down further, being placed under Scott’s chin, around his gills, everywhere the blonde could reach. They became gradually more open mouthed as well, until eventually a bruise was being sucked into his partner's neck. Scott, who’s knees buckled more with every kiss until he was practically leaning on Martyn, muffled a sound; one that sounded suspiciously like a whine.

"Martyn!" Soctt laughed, tugging the other away from his neck. "People can see us out here!"

"You don't wanna give them a show?" The blonde muttered against Scott’s throat, feeling the latter’s pulse begin to quicken underneath.

“No, I only want to give you one,” Scott’s response was a low and sultry murmur, one that sent shivers straight down his spine. Martyn let his face be held in gentle hands, meeting the merfolk's now half lidded gaze.

"I think I'd like a ticket to that." He mumbled in response, A hand was teasingly slipped under Scott’s jacket, and the other man let out a slight shiver. His tail began flicking around Martyn’s lower legs, the contact burning like a hot iron.

"You already have one." Scott murmured against his lips, giving Martyn another passionate kiss. The blonde made a muffled noise, moving the two of them back towards the edge of the island. His hand stayed under Scott’s shirt the whole time, roaming and exploring to his heart's content.

They had to part once they reached the water, Martyn obviously needing air to be able to hold his breath. But once they reached the cave the two were quickly on each other, Scott allowing Martyn to slam him against the stone wall. Their lips smashed together once again, the action now having a hungry air to it. Scott slipped his tongue into Martyn’s mouth, causing the other to groan. Hands went to tug at blue hair, which made the merfolk make his own sounds in response. Sharp teeth nicked at the pirates lips, and his knees damn near wobbled underneath him.

He groaned, Scott’s tongue exploring his mouth until he couldn’t breathe, lungs burning and screaming for oxygen. When they pulled away Martyn dipped his head back down, resuming his earlier work on Scott’s throat. He smirked at the low moan that came from the merfolk, and pressed another hickey into his scales.

At some point he’d picked up Scott, carrying him the short distance to the bed they kept in the secret room. He pinned the smaller to it, hands gripping his hair nicely and dagging Martyn’s head back to Scott’s neck. The blonde resumed his work, not needing to be asked twice; especially if it elicited those sounds from Scott.

Hands roamed under his shirt, ghosting over his chest before beginning the journey downwards again. All the while Martyn tried to shove Scott’s own jacket off him, moving that and his undershirt so he could have even more access. More whines came from Scott, his partner's lips now pressed to his collarbone and beginning to bite down gently. Martyn let out a groan of his own, fingers beginning to tug at his waistband.

He moved back up to Scott’s lips again, kissing him into the bed like a starving man. Scott’s hands quickly moved to grab the back of his head and keep him there, the merfolk very content to let Martyn’s tongue do whatever it pleased in his mouth. They pulled away for a final time after that, both taking in large gasps of air.

Scott cupped Martyn’s cheeks in his hands, moving the blonde’s head down until they’re foreheads touched. “We should make out more.” He stated quietly, eyes closed as he leaned into the other’s presence.

“You don’t say?” Martyn huffed, amusement leaking into his tone. Scott just hummed in response.

The pirate would’ve loved to stay and cuddle Scott more than anything, but they still had chores to do around the island. So Martyn stifled a sigh, and slowly moved off of the merfolk. Scott made a disappointed huff, and sat up on the bed.

“Gotta feed the chickens, sorry.” He mumbled. Martyn pressed a kiss to Scott’s hair, before going to exit the underwater base. The blonde heard the tell tale signs of Scott’ swimming after him a moment later, and smiled.

They reached the surface together, Martyn noticing that Scott’s shirt was still not fixed once they were on land. He flushed cherry red, wordlessly moving to fix it and hide his glorious work from the world. Scott just giggled at him, tail slapping happily against the ocean’s surface.

“Hi guys!” Skizz’s voice came from the mainland, and Martyn wanted to die right then. He wanted to be striked down by lightning right now because that was proper embarrassing and absolutely motifying .

“What were you two doing in there, huh?” Tango’s voice joined in with his teammates, just as Martyn managed to cover most of the bruises lining Scott’s fair skin. He really hadn’t realized how many he’d left, which made this interaction all the more horrible for him. Scott however, though probably a little embarrassed, was leaning into the teasing. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” He called back with a giggle. Martyn just groaned, resting his head on Scott’s chest, hands still gripping the latter’s shirt. His partner just laughed louder, pressing a fond kiss too the top of his head

Scott woke up one night with a loud yelp, loud enough for most of their neighbors to probably hear. He ripped himself free of Martyn’s grasp, breath coming out in short gasps as he did so. Tears were pricking at the corner of his vision, clouding it and making it harder to see what exactly was in front of him. In the merfolk’s panic he kicked off the covers as well, the feel of them being too overwhelming.

Martyn stirred next to him, obviously quite startled. Scott felt his partner's concerned gaze on him as he sat on his side of their beds, shaking. The blonde moved toward him slowly, and lightly placed a hand on Scott's thigh. When the merfolk didn't flinch away, his grasp became a little firmer.

"You okay?" Martyn mumbled, voice muddled with a strange mix of worry and sleep. Scott tried to open his mouth to speak, but his tongue felt as if someone had locked it in place, and now it wouldn't seem to budge. He held back a frustrated noise, and just shook his head no.

"Wanna talk about it? If you can?" Scott nodded again, and tried to get his mouth to work for the next few minutes. Martyn moved closer as he did so, bumping their shoulders together lightly. His fingers drummed on Scott's knee idly, a motion the merfolk found more comforting than he'd like to admit.

When he finally did make a sound it wasn't coherent, just a strangled sound that was supposed to be a word. Martyn smiled softly at that, and kept quietly waiting.

"….Had a nightmare." Scott muttered. "'Bout the first game."

"Third life?" Martyn clarified softly. Scott nodded.

"I saw the grave again." He continued, trying not to recall the dream too vividly, lest he start crying again. "I, ah, remembered the bunker, his death. Then it wasn't Jimmy it was…..it was you -" Scott cut himself off with a sob, the memory of the dream rattling him greatly. Martyn moved quickly, and before Scott knew it he was dampening the other’s shirt with his own tears.

He remembered how he'd lost his husband the first time, how he had been shattered into fragments with just one message. Scott didn’t even have to search his feelings for long before the grief came rushing back, crashing over him like it used to every day back then. His heart twisted painfully inside him, the moment still crystal clear in his mind.

"That's not again happen again, I promise." Martyn mumbled into his hair, gently running his fingers through it.

"How do you know that?" Scott asked, voice cracked with long ago grief. It could happen again, he could so easily lose his lover once more. It was the thing he worried about everytime Martyn tried to defend him, when Martyn shoved himself in front of a ranid army of yellows and reds to keep him safe. He always worried about having to bury Martyn, like he'd had to bury Jimmy with nothing but dirt and a lone poppy-

"Because this isn't Third Life." The blonde muttered, grip on him tightening. "There's no flower field here, and there's no banner to burn."

That made sense, Scott supposed. It made him feel better, so even if it hadn't made any sense it would still be a reasonable explanation he supposed. At that he sunk into Martyn, his teats gradually beginning to calm down. He still clung to the blonde like a lifeline though, the fear induced by the nightmare never quite leaving.

Martyn just laid them both down gently, Scott still clutched in his arms. He pulled the covers over both of them, and mumbled something about trying to get a few more hours of sleep.

Martyn respawned with a yelp, a little surprised still. He’d be killed by a random TNT minecart drop, and he was a little irritated over it. Stupid Skynet and the stupid minecarts. He was ready to go out there and shoot whoever had done it, that was an hour of his time they’d gotten away with!

“Didn’t expect you to be on top of me today.” A voice came from under him, and Martyn looked down in surprise. Under him was a very flustered looking Scott, the frills on his face pressed back in surprise. It took Martyn’s brain a few seconds to process how he’d ended up in this position, cogs turning at a painstakingly slow pace in his head.

He’d respawned in their hidden bed, naturally. It was night time. Scott was probably trying to sleep the night away. Right. Sure . That made sense, but it didn’t make either of them any less flustered. Currently Martyn was being distracted by how he was basically straddling Scott, and his partner was being pushed slightly into the white bedsheets.

“Well, I don’t think you’re minding it much.” He responded, entirely on impulse. Scott’s eyes seemed to light up with that, and he moved closer. Martyn met the merfolk’s half lidded gaze, nose bumping and breaths mingling together. The air had turned from awkward to heated very fast, and the blonde was soaking it all up like a wet sponge.

"Ya know I always had a thing for pirates…" Scott said, voice dipping lower. He ran a hand along Martyn’s chest area, where the shirt was left slightly unbuttoned, caressing his skin. The blonde shivered at the motion, his own hands running up Scott’s arms slowly.

"And I've always thought merfolk were quite sexy." He huffed in response, leaning downwards. Scott flashed him a toothy grin, going to meet the other in the middle. Their lips connected, and Scott pulled them further down onto the bed.

Martyn muffled a noise, the merfolk’s tongue slipping into his mouth for the millionth time. When Scott had said they should make out more he hadn’t been expecting this, but the pirate was so not going to complain. His fingers twisted in the other's hair, and a hand tugged on the back of Martyn’s head to keep him in place.

He pulled away first, the feeling of fire in his lungs. Scott just looked up at him with a pout, lips puffy and red. Martyn ignored the urge to lean down and ruin them some more, slowly shuffling off the bed.

“People are gonna be suspicious if I take too long respawning.” He muttered a quiet apology, watching as Scott tried to drag him back down. His partner just let out a dramatic sounding sigh. “Fine.”

“We could continue this later tonight?” Martyn offered, and Scott’s eyes lit up immediately. “Oh absolutely~” He murmured, giving the blonde one last peck on the lips. A hand thumbed over the waistband of his pants, and then Scott finally let go of him. Martyn laughed at that, ignoring the warmth fluttering inside him. “Eager aren't we?” He called as he exited the room, not waiting for the merfolk response before diving into the cool sea water.

Time was running out.

Scott stood with Impulse at spawn, discussing. They were the last three left, and they were supposedly going to have a fist fight to the death. The winner would be picked fairly, no foul play or whatever. Martyn stood beside them, oddly silent. Martyn was never silent like that. Scott wanted to reach out a hand to his partner, to hold the blonde’s own one last time. To feel Martyn’s loving embrace one last time, because this wasn’t going to end pretty.

He didn’t want to kill Martyn, and Martyn didn’t want to kill him. Unless the red life got to him, he didn’t think he could. And he didn’t want the bloodlust to get to him. He didn’t want to win again, and just standing here had already brought him far too close to that for comfort. So if it did come down to a fist fight, he would let Impulse kill him, because there was no other way to avoid it.

He didn’t reach out a hand to hold Martyn’s. Maybe because part of him knew what was going to happen, because he knew Martyn as well as a fish knew the ocean it swam in.

Impulse said something, then there was a burning in Scott's back. He screamed, feeling the unmistakable burn of lava on him, feeling the liquid splash painfully onto his tail. Impulse let out a surprised yell, and a bucket clattered to the stone ground under them. Just before the magma could finish him off, a sword sliced through his ribs, just like it had during his first death. His lover was saying something, but the merfolk couldn’t hear it over the ringing in his ears.

Martyn had killed him again, and stabbed him right in the back. Figuratively and literally. If he turned around, Scott would see a flash of pain on the blonde’s face as he did so. Scott didn’t mind though, didn’t mind dying, because third was a fine enough place to get. And probably a higher place than he deserved anyways.

My own Mean Gill. He thought, allowing the world to fade to black. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Martyn huffed, kicking his legs idly in the air. He was at least a good thousand feet off the ground now, which didn't make him feel too great. He made a mental note not to look down too much, and pondered on how exactly he was going to reach the ground again.

He'd just wanted to see what that weird little geyser did, not be permanently levitated! Now he was worried about going too high up and dying, and he'd only had these powers for like less than a week! Martyn huffed to himself again, trying to spin himself around in midair.

There was a flash of blue and orange nearby, and Martyn whipped his head around. He was met with nothing, with empty air. Like everything else around him. He gave the surrounding area a suspicious glance over, and again there was nothing. The blonde huffed at that, figuring it was just his eyes playing tricks on him or something. If he was gonna float into space he wanted it to be paranoia free, thank you very much.

The flash of color kept happening though, so much so that Martyn became more and more convinced it had to be another player messing with him. He also wished they would help get him down, not play an unwinnable game of peekaboo.

The person playing it also seemed to be getting bored, because the next time an orange flash appeared, there was a hand coming out of it. Martyn let out a small scream at that, and made himself float farther away. There was laughing beside him afterwards, and he once again spun to try and locate where the sound was coming from.

The flashes of light had apparently been portals of some kind, because one was soon open a few feet above him. Sticking out of it was the head of a man, similarly blue and orange hair falling in front of his face as he looked down at Martyn. The blonde blinked, watching the man laugh at his misery. The dude was quite nice looking, he had to admit, his features were slender and seemed to have a sort of elegance to him, and his eyes crinkled nicely when he smiled. His laugh rang through the air, a pleasing sound to listen to, and his hair was longer than it looked; most of his being kept up in two twin buns atop his head.

“Hi!” The stranger smiled down at him when the laughing fit calmed down, Martyn now having floated closer. His eyes were multicolored, one blue and one orange, and the blonde wasn’t even surprised by the color combo anymore. That seemed to be very on brand for this guy.

“Hi!” Martyn parroted, struggling to keep some irritation from his tone. “You mind getting me down now?”

The strange man blinked a couple of times, and for the first time seemed to realize how high up they now were. “Oh! Sorry!” He almost squeaked out the apology, before disappearing into thin air again. Martyn floated there, puzzled for a moment, before he was suddenly on the ground again. He made a noise of surprise, stumbling a bit as body readjusted to not being hundreds of feet in the air. Martyn’s vision spun a bit, and he felt a warm hand keep him steady while it did.

“You okay?” The stranger’s voice rang in his ears again, and when the blonde could see clearly he found that the other was now face to face with him. He nodded, staring back into those multi-colored eyes, the stranger’s breath brushing over his face ever so slightly. He had quite pretty eyes, this man did. Martyn could very easily see himself getting lost in them, especially if they kept meeting like this.

“Good!” At those words the other man was pulling back, another smile dancing on his lips. Martyn ignored how pretty that look was on him, deciding it was better to focus on what the guy was saying instead. “I’m Scott, bye the way!”

“Martyn.” He gave his own name, and committed the others to memory. Sometimes the blonde had trouble remembering names, but he figured this guy was the expectation. You don’t see a pretty dude who can teleport very often. Scott’s gaze flicked over him once, taking in his appearance. “Why were you even floating in the first place?” He asked, head tilted to the side curiously.

“Some stupid geyser sent me up there!” Martyn huffed, scanning the area for his new least favorite thing. “Over here!” He walked towards the damned thing as soon as he caught sight of it, wanting to warn his new acquaintance of what they looked like. He heard Scott follow after him, brown boots crunching against the light layer of snow on the ground.

“That thing!” He spat, glaring down at the small geyser, treacherous puffs of air still billowing from it. Scott stopped beside them, tail brushing against Martyn’s legs unconsciously. The blonde hadn’t even seen the tail till just now, and it only made him more curious about the guy.

“Ah, so that’s what those do!” Scott hummed, leaning forward slightly to get a better look.

“You’ve seen ‘em before?” Martyn’s now curious gaze flicked to the transporter again, and he tried not to stare at the open side of the man’s shirt.

“Yep, but I was always too scared to test them out.” Scott glanced at him, his features becoming playful “But i guess you did that for me, huh?” Martyn snorted at that, moving away from the wretched thing a little bit. Scott followed him.

“Guess I did!” He smiled, watching as the other opened a little portal in the grass next to him.

“Gotta go!” Scott explained with another pretty smile, this one dazzling and lopsided. “See you later?” He asked, and if Martyn deluded himself he could hear a bit of hope in the teleporter's voice.

“Yeah, see you later!” Martyn called, freezing himself in excitement at the thought. Scott laughed at him, before falling into his portal, tail flicking in joy. If Martyn could smile while encased in ice, he would. He wanted the ice to melt quicker, to melt right now , just so he could see Scott as soon as possible.

[alrightbuckaroo]

Thanks so much to @heartstringsduet and @reyesstrand for the tags, as always! Hope you're in the mood for some more witness protection (but make it funny) au

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“Your SoulCycle instructor?” TK does his best to watch his volume and keep himself measured in front of other people. TK continues staring at Alex, trying to make sense of all it. 

He doesn’t know what questions to ask, doesn’t know when the beginning of their end started. His mouth is moving quicker than his mind when he asks, “Alex, since when do you know how to ride a bike?” 

TK inwardly winces. Out of all of the questions weighing on his mind, that’s the one he chooses to go with? Alex looks confused, perplexed even, at least TK isn’t alone in his slurry of confusion. 

“Tyler,” TK outwardly winces at the use of his name. He used to have no problem with Alex using his full name; but then again, he used to think Alex was the man he was going to marry. “What are you talking about?” 

TK decides he’s just going to go with it. “On our fifth date, you said you didn’t know how to ride a bike.” He remembers the grimace that crossed Alex’s face at the suggestion. 

TK can’t lie, he was a little disheartened. He thought it would be romantic, riding around Central Park during the late afternoon before settling down for a nice evening picnic. 

“No.” Alex is quick to correct; holding up an index finger. TK fights a groan; knowing that’s the voice Alex uses when he knows he’s right. “I said I didn’t want to ride bikes, not that I couldn’t.” 

TK rallies with an argument that’s weaker than restaurant’s olive oil dipping sauce. “Well, one would assume you didn’t want to because you didn’t know how to.” More to himself than anything, he mutters, “I don’t know why you were so against the idea, anyways.” 

Alex eyes widen. “You had fallen down two flights of stairs the week before, Tyler. You were rushed to the emergency room and the doctor recommended bed read for at least a week. Biking would have done nothing but hurt you more.” 

TK laughs, sarcastically and hardened. He revels in the ball finally being back in his court and decides to twist the knife. “Well, I don’t think’s anything that can hurt much more than this, Alex.” 

Alex eyes soften, a dichotomy to TK’s. Before he can respond, they’re reunited with Jack, their server. He smiles at both of them; neither of them make an attempt to reciprocate. If it’s faltered Jack, he doesn’t show it. “Are you both ready to order, or do you think you’re going to need a little bit more time?” 

“Oh, we don’t need anymore time at all; I think we’ve both already made up our minds.” TK answers Jack’s question but never breaks eye contact with Alex. He stands up, and grabs a dollar bill from his wallet, not caring to look at what it is. “Here, this should cover everything.” 

He doesn’t stop when he hears Alex yell out his name; he makes a bee-line for the front door. Once he’s outside, he embraces the sound of controlled chaos of the city. He moves out of the walk way, and leans against the building. He takes a moment to process it all. 

He brings his hand up to his eyes, rubbing against the bottom of them with his index and thumb. “Why did I give him money, the bread was free.” 

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no pressure tagging: @carlos-in-glasses, @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut, @welcometololaland, @rmd-writes, @basilsunrise, @sunshinestrand, @tailoredshirt, @chaotictarlos, @irispurpurea, @sanjuwrites and of course anyone else who wants to join in (tag me back, i want to read!)

[all54321]

Home

More Watcher!Scar AU.

There will be a part 2 of Watching, but when I started writing it I decided that this is when Grian learns about what’s happening to Scar. The conversation following just isn’t flowing right so I put it on hold. I was writing the scene where Scar grew wings before getting an idea for this.

This takes place just after Grian kills Ren. Scar’s wings have a void-like appearance while Grian’s are normal parrot wings. When Grian became a watcher his wings did change to be void-like, he just uses magic to make them look like a parrot’s wings again.

—————

They’re both sitting against a wall in a different hideaway coming down from the adrenaline and bloodlust of Grian’s kill. It seems like Grian killing satiates both of their bloodlusts. He’s extremely jittery himself from the kill, on one hand appreciating having clearer thinking, on the other knowing that he won’t be able to look Ren in the eyes for weeks when they return.

“Gri…?” Scar’s voice breaks the silence, tense and slightly hoarse.

Grian just replies with a questioning hum, staring forwards.

“What’s… after all of this?” There’s a clear vulnerability in Scar’s tone that has Grian turning to look at him. He meets his red eyes with his own, a sorrowful and uncertain look to them.

“What do you mean?” Grian asks him gently.

“Is this,” he waves a hand around vaguely, “all there is now? Do we just die and wake up in another game, just to repeat this all again?”

“Oh,” Grian whispers, remembering that while Scar remembers the other games, he doesn’t remember Hermitcraft. “It’s not just this,” he assures, “it’s not just these games. But even though there are breaks, we’re still trapped within a loop of playing them.”

Even with that dark confirmation of some kind of loop, Scar relaxes at there being something else, wings slumping behind him, “what is it?”

“Home,” Grian murmurs wistfully, “it’s home. Most of us here live in a server together, it’s peaceful and we don’t have to worry about running out of lives. The only wars are mostly just pranks or jokes.”

“That sounds nice,” Scar answers, although now with a sad tinge to his voice.

Grian hums, turning to stare at the wall again, “Yeah, but it makes playing these games harder, since we’re friends with everyone here and killing your friends is just… I hate it.” He sighs, “but this game just does things to my mind to try to convince me it’s fine.” He casts a side glance at Scar, “I’m assuming that’s why the Watchers don’t let you remember, so you’re not conflicted about killing people you’re friends with.” There’s a pause as Grian lets out a long breath, “I normally remember what happens in the games due to my status as a Watcher, so… well, I hope you’re only like this during the game. It would be nice to not be alone, I suppose, but I wouldn’t want to wish this fate on you forever, void knows how much I don’t want to be like this.”

Scar replies with a quiet hum before stretching a wing out and wrapping it around Grian. He makes a noise in surprise, before leaning against it, avian instincts singing at the feel of someone who he’s close with’s wing around him, comforting him. It’s clear how Scar is conflicted over the matter, Grian doesn’t mind, just appreciating Scar’s comfort while he has it.

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

Ribbons and Rainstorms

Epilogue - 2000 years later...

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Hello everyone! Thank you so much for reading this far!, since you've made it here I'm assuming you enjoyed my fic, but hey! Consider reblogging? Or leaving me a nice comment? Thank you to everyone who gave me advice and support whilst I wrote this, it wouldn't be the same without everyone in the Big Bang server helping to make this happen <3

Do read this epilogue, though, I personally think its worth it :D

I can't remember who it was who suggested the names for the characters in this chapter, but I love you, and thank you so much.

This fic is my child, I even have a wall in my bedroom dedicated to it, so, you best appreciate it or I'll be coming for your kneecaps!!

<- Previous | Masterpost

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“You sure it’s this way?” Lara said, turning to her companion, who was squinting at a map as he deftly avoided the thick plant roots that seemed perfectly placed to trip up a person.

“Certain,” he replied, “But— Lara— are you sure we should be doing this? The forest— eugh— definitely doesn’t seem to want us here.”

“Sure, it’s a pretty dense forest,” She said, “But I don’t think forests are sentient, Nathan.”

“Right, right,” Replied Nathan, before he stepped straight into a muddy ditch, getting the stuff all up his trouser-leg, “Why are we doing this again?”

Lara rolled her eyes, “The locals tipped us off about an ancient temple in these woods, it could be the discovery of the century! Don’t you want to be famous?”

“Not if it means getting killed by a forest that seems far more dangerous than it should be,” Nathan said, glancing back at his map, “We should be nearly there— just up this hill, if this temple even exists.”

Half an hour of trekking through the forest that just seemed abnormally out to get them, the pair of archaeologists finally came upon the temple. The place was old, black marble chipped and no longer shining, the braziers fixed to the pillars rusted and filled with ash and fuel long since burned out. The inside was dim, filled with dust and the smell of mildew. Vines and plants trailed across the floors and up the walls, hugging the pillars and walls with thorns and probing shoots. The place was certainly old, and certainly abandoned. 

“Wow…” Lara whispered as they mounted the crumbling steps, clicking on her torch as they entered the dark space.

“We— we should check that the walls are structurally sound before we go in here,” Nathan protested, staying back at the entrance, Lara turned back, rolling her eyes.

“It’s not like we’re taking a sledgehammer to it,” She said, “If it hasn’t collapsed in the time it’s been standing here, I doubt it’s gonna collapse now.”

She dumped her pack on the ground, fishing around inside until she pulled out a high-grade camera. Quickly flicking up the lens cap so she could take photos of the space. 

In one corner was a pile of moth-eaten blankets that barely resembled blankets anymore. A closer look revealed that they had become home to a fair few critters over the years. Nathan deftly cut a sample of the material, running his fingers over it and calling out that it was certainly a good two-thousand years old. Frankly, he was astonished any of it was still here. 

“There’s not much else here — I don’t think,” Lara called, running her hand over the crumbling stone altar. The draped fabric had been entirely eaten away, but the priceless metal decorations — the candelabra, the bowl, the chalice, still remained, “I bet these would fetch a pretty penny, I wonder if the British Museum would be interested.”

Nathan scoffed, “As long as it’s stolen from a native people, I’m sure they will be.” 

“Okay, maybe not the best idea, but we should— we should definitely report this to the historical society.”

“Yeah, good idea— hey Lara— what’s that?” Nathan asked, gesturing behind her. 

“What’s what?”

“Behind you, on the wall.”

Lara turned around, stepping black so the beam from her torch could light up most of the wall. 

Against the back stretch of wall hung a tapestry, a tapestry that depicted two figures holding hands, one with flowing black hair, dressed in beautiful robes that fit the fashion two millennia ago, and the other with tan skin and dressed befitting of a prince from a fantasy book. 

“Oh how beautiful,” Nathan whispered, the sight taking their breath away, “What a lovely tapestry…”

“Can you tell when it was made?” Lara asked.

“Well— based on their dress and the needlework—" he said, slowly approaching the tapestry and running his hand over it, before lifting up the bottom corner and checking the back, “And the wool, it looks to be from a few thousand years ago, but…”

“But what?”

“The fabric has almost no wear and tear whatsoever, the colours are exceptionally bright…” Nathan mumbled, “If someone told me this was made yesterday I wouldn’t be surprised, based on condition alone.”

“How is that possible?” She asked slowly, joining him in front of the fabric to run her hand along the edge, “It should’ve been ravaged by the elements, moths, other forest creatures— but it’s not damaged in the slightest… not even frayed…”

“Very strange,” Nathan nodded, stepping back again to see what it depicted, “Do you think they were friends?”

Lara looked at him with an odd expression, before letting out an exasperated sigh, “‘do you think they were friends’ no friends look into each other’s eyes like that— they’re holding hands— are you dense?”

“Okay okay ,jeez,” He raised his hands in surrender, “Who were they, do you think?”

“Perhaps the ones who live in this temple?” Said a voice from behind them. Both archeologists turned in sync, wide eyed, to stare at the tall figure in the doorway. When he took a step forward — into Lara’s torchlight — they both gasped, because he almost perfectly matched one of the figures on the tapestry. Dress and all — he looked like he’d just stepped out of a storybook, he was almost glowing. 

“Who are you?” Nathan asked hesitantly.

“Why, I’m Ro, of course,” they said, “I know mortals have been severely lacking in whimsy the last few centuries, but surely you haven’t forgotten us all completely. Also, I thank you for correcting your friend, that is in fact my husband.”

“Wait— slow down— just a little bit,” Lara said, raising a hand, “This tapestry is two-thousand years old, you’re saying you are this person— and the other is your husband?”

“Precisely,” Ro said, as though the information made any sense at all, “See?”

He gestured to their hair, where an elaborately designed crown sat atop his bun — the only thing about his appearance that wasn't depicted in the tapestry. It seemed to be made from gold and silver embellished with red and purple gemstones. It looked… incredibly expensive. 

The archeologists didn’t know what exactly the garment meant — unfortunately the culture around hair accessories had been lost to time, and now there were only brief records of the practice — but they could easily assume it was special to this strange person. 

“Now,” He said, reaching behind him and drawing a sword that was as thick as both Lara’s arms and twice as long, “Do you wish to do harm to this temple?”

—-

Lara and Nathan left the temple with no clue how to explain to the rest of society that they had just met — talked to, been threatened by — a God, but they would have to work it out before they got back, because that was without a doubt what had happened to them today. 

----

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[junkydrawr]

Well, it's been a while, so here's another Snively scene for ya'll. Just a little bit of Snively's childhood.

Oh yeah, I'm learning Spanish so I just tossed some random thing in there. Lol

"How come you don't use your real name?" Tails twirled in the water.

"I don't like it."

"What was it again?"

Snively lifted one foot from the water, watching the silt slide from his toes. "Colin."

"How come you like Snively better than Colin?"

"I wouldn't say I like it better. But it's the lesser of the two evils."

"Colin isn't that bad," said Tails. "My real name is Miles...now that's just dorky!"

"No, it's fine. It has sophistication." Snively wiggled his toes back into the mud. It felt nice.

"What's sophistication?"

"Class. Polish." Snivey rolled his eyes. "I realize Sonic is your idol, but must you emulate his vocabulary incompetence...?"

"I got no idea what you just said." Tails splashed one of his namesakes into the water, sending spray Snively's way.

It honestly felt nice too. He wiped his face. It might be pleasant to simply sit down, let the water flow up to his chest. He'd probably be covered in sand afterwards. Not so pleasant.

"I think you should use Colin." Tails nodded seriously. "Snively sounds like a joke. Like...sniveling."

"...but isn't that what I do?" Snively smiled crookedly. Hazy memories surfaced like the glittering sand beneath the water.

-

He was nine and his father was the Minister of Justice. Father attended galas and parties and meetings and other boring things. Usually, Colin Jr stayed home. Tonight, his father decided to drag him along. 

Snively was not pleased. He'd have to don his suit and tie, those stupid shiny shoes that hurt his feet...and be around droning, pretentious rich people for endless hours.

At least the food was usually good.

Father stopped by the leather armchair where his son was lounging with a book.

"Hijo, tienes que hacer listo." (Son, you have to get ready.)

Snively sneered without looking up. "Yo no entiendo." (I don't understand.)

Father insisted on his enrollment in Human Multicultural Languages. It was another class to nap through. Father liked to grill him with random phrases in various languages of Earth. (Of course, random phrases was all Father knew.)

When Snively had asked to drop out, his father had gone on a tirade.

"We must preserve our heritage," he growled.

"But we're from England."

"The heritage of our species! The glory of Homo Sapiens!" Colin Sr tilted back his head arrogantly, his fire-hued hair gleaming in the chandelier lights. "Our people are meant to conquer the stars, boy!"

Oh Gods. Snively resisted an epic eye roll. It'd only earn him a slap.

Father loathed the fact that Common Mobian was prioritized over Human languages on all levels of schooling. They were both fluent, naturally. When your species was only 3% of the population, you had to assimilate or remain insular, and that was not an option when the majority controlled all of the resources as well.

"You do understand me, Snively! Now answer properly!"

He sighed and struggled for the words. "Um...Que hora hace lo empiezar?" (What time does it start?)

"It starts at seven. You have an hour to get ready and you look a mess." Colin Senior fisted a handful of his son's shirt, drawing him close. "You had best not disgrace me, Snively."

Snively cringed. "No, daddy."

-

The gala was some stupid fundraiser, something to do with raising money for the Overlander cause - the group that believed they shouldn't bow to the Mobians.

War was on the horizon, but such things were surreal to a nine year old boy who had his hands full with a critical, loveless father, schoolyard bullies, classwork and studies.

Snively managed to snag a glass of wine from a passing server.  He sipped from it, brushing his hair from his eyes. Oh, it made him feel burning and tingling. He liked it.

The air was thick with the scent of rich hors d'oeuvres, silver confetti, gold balloons, clashing perfumes. He scratched at the red tie at his neck and sat at an empty table.

Look at this silly lot. He eyed all the men in their suits, the women in their fancy dresses and overdone makeup, all the breasts pushed up and begging for attention. A server paused and offered him delicacies from her silver tray.

Oh yes. Small weiners wrapped in brioche, pinky-sized shrimp, and tiny snack cakes!

"Thank you, I will." He took the entire tray.

"Excuse me, young sir-" she huffed and he aimed a finger across the room. There was Father, shaking hands and blabbing with other stick-up-the-ass bigwigs.

"Oh, would you like to tell my daddy on me? He's right there."

She blanched, hurrying off.

He smiled in bratty enjoyment, then sampled the plate. Well, perhaps it was worth being dragged here. But after a while, he was full and bored, and this dreck of a party was still carrying on.

I wish Uncle Julian were here. He sighed, leaning back in the chair. Uncle would have so many witty and funny things to say of all this! Snively giggled. He imagined Uncle's commentary in his deep voice. Look at this group of overstuffed turkeys, my dear boy. Ah, has that woman over there smuggled melons into her brassiere?

I wish Julian was my father instead...

He tried to squash the frequent, sorrowful thought and stood, restlessly wandering the gala. He ended up passing near his father, still chatting with other pompous arses. People of wealth and influence.

"Oh my," cried an elderly woman showing too much skin. "Is this not your son, Minister?"

"Jolly right!" Another man, decked out in Overlander military garb, pulled Snively in by the shoulder. "This is the lad."

"Ah yes." Colin Senior beamed with false pride. An equally fake hand of affection patted his son's other shoulder. "My darling boy, my golden child."

"What a fine-looking young man."

Snively resisted a sneer. Think that's the first time I've heard that one.

"My pride for him knows no bounds."

"And what is your name, son? Named after your father, are you?"

Colin Senior nodded, drawing his son closer, his hand kneading on the back of his neck. You'd best not disgrace me.

I hate being named after this clod.

I hate how he's pretending to love me.

The golden child smiled sweetly, his blue eyes sweeping the group. "Oh yes, sirs and madames. My name is Colin as well...but honestly, I far prefer Father's nickname for me."

Father's hand tightened on his nape. A warning.

"Oh, and what is that?" The elderly woman leaned forward.

Colin Jr beamed radiantly. "Why, Sniveling Bastard, of course. Snively for short."

The old woman gasped, and all the assembled eyes stared at his father. Colin Senior sputtered, red creeping up his brawny neck, as he fumbled for an out.

"Um...ah...heh...ah...the boy is such a joker. Such talent for wit."

There was forced laugher, and Snively slipped away as his father desperately tried to save face.

He retreated to the bathroom, where in the stall, he bent over and laughed until tears streamed down his face.

-

He shed a different sort of tears later in the privacy of their manor home.

It had been a while since Father had thrashed him with his belt, and he struck especially hard tonight.

Snively curled painfully in bed, sniffling and wiping tears. His rear and thighs burned with swollen welts...but inside...he glowed.

I can't wait to tell Uncle about the look on Father's face. He giggled softly, gingerly rolling to his other side with a pained gasp.

Yes, he would be sore for days...but he was full of appetizers and the darkness of pleasurable spite. Welts would fade, but the memory would never lose its sweetness.

-

The recollection of Daddy's humiliated, fumbling face made him chuckle. Colin Jr had fully embraced his hateful nickname from then on, stabbing it like a needle into his bastard father.

He sloshed his hands in the cool water. "No, I shan't ever use that name." He let his hands still, seeing his pitiful reflection staring up. "Snively is who I am."

Tails twirled again. "Maybe you can make up your own name! Something you like!"

The small man grinned. "All right. Snively the Grrrrreat."

"Yuck! No way!" Tails splashed more water his way.

----

A/N: So that's my take on why Snively sticks with his nickname instead of given name. He really should make something else up though hahaha. (Also, I just realized I didn't make it clear, that Colin Sr only called his son 'Snively' (and variants of) in private.)

(Also Humans being 3% of the population might be an overestimation. In my storyline Mobius and Earth are seperate and the Overlanders immigrated from Earth to Mobius over a period of several hundred years until they ended up blowing up their home planet. Bummer. Lol. Anyway, it's a minor detail since that shit's in the past, right?)