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moonlightsolo · 2 years

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eddie the bloody-handed II

summary: eddie gave into his urges to feed on you, but when you wake up, are you going to be upset with him for his choice?

pairing: vampire!eddie x female reader

warnings: mention of blood, angst, depictions of pain, insinuated smut at the end, lil suggestive, reader and eddie being a cute lil vamp couple

note: thank u sososo much for all the love on the first part ily all!!!!

the venom introduced into your cardiovascular system is attacking the last of your blood cells, sizzling out the rest of the life from inside of you. your body is unable to move from being paralyzed in your own mind, your nerve-endings and consciousness screaming at you to wake up.

blazing fire burns in your veins, as if molten lava is being pumping into your body through an intravenous needle. the severe burning sensation travels deep through your body. it's the most excruciating pain you have ever experienced throughout your entire existence.

once you change, that addicting blood of yours won’t tempt him anymore. even though, a little part in the back of his brain is whispering to him to bite you again, to get one last taste, but he refuses to hurt you. guilt sits heavy in the boys heart, making the dormant organ ache in his chest.

“i can’t believe you went down there without me. i wanted to go!” dustin’s hormonal voice squeaks dramatically as he shouts at hopper and steve. his eyes are teary from just hearing the news his best friend has risen from the dead.

henderson paces in the cabin’s living room, mumbling under his breath. his brain is working a mile a minute, using his smarts to figure out the situation.

“look, he took her. i don’t know where… but he flew away. it’s not that easy to chase after him, you know.” jim attempts to calm down dustin, hand resting his forehead and temple. hopper sucks in deep breaths through his nose, nostrils flaring out of frustration.

“flew?” will, dustin, and mike yell in unison.

“he has wings!” steve exclaims, throwing his hands in the air exasperatedly.

“so you’re telling us.. eddie is alive? and he’s some sort of bat, slash vampire, slash upside down monster?” dustin rambles on, hands moving erratically as he talks. his wild eyes are still trained on the ground as he strides back and forth.

“yeah, that pretty much sums it up.” steve shrugs.

“screw all of you, i’m going down there.” dustin storms off, pushing angrily through hopper and steve. mike, eleven and will quickly follow him to their bikes, not listening to hoppers protests. they’ll find an open gate somewhere in this cursed town.

everything in your body goes silent, the pain fades away, and your heartbeat ceases in its wake. the ringing in your ears goes mute as you gradually awaken, the sound of muffled thunder drawing you back to reality.

the feeling of wind whooshing above you makes your eyes flutter open, squinting at the blurry silhouette of a person hovering above you.

eddie is staring at you, his doe-like eyes are wide as he tries to read your emotions through your awakening face. his wings are extended from flying himself over to you, curiosity and fear written on his features.

at first, you’re unsure of what happened. there’s an uncomfortable feeling of your hair pulling on the stickiness of something dried on your neck, “eddie…” your voice is hoarse, shaking your head and squeezing your eyes shut.

one of his hands come down to cup your cheek, but you instinctively pull away from his advances. his dark eyebrows furrow in confusion, wings curling up coyly behind his back, “baby, are you alright?”

you weakly slide your hand up your body to your neck, touching the side of it to peel away your hair. even with your blurred vision, you can’t help but notice your blackened fingertips. something isn’t right.

your eyesight clears as the past events finally rush back to you, everything clicks into place; falling asleep in his arms, him waking you up by biting you, the pain of his fangs feasting on your neck, and then your memory goes black. fury grows hot throughout your chest, rising up to your ears and settling on your cheeks.

“what did you do?” your voice drops in octave, making eddie wince from your irate tone. you begin to sit up slowly, almost nose to nose with him as you stare him down with pure anger in your eyes.

“eddie, what the fuck did you do to me?”

“baby, please- just listen-.” he tries to plead to you, backing up as you follow him closely. the look in your newly reddened eyes terrifies him.

your tongue runs across your top row of front teeth, feeling the sharp pointed ends of your canines press into the muscle. your eyes flash back up to him, arms reeling back to push roughly at his chest.

from your brute strength, he stumbles backwards off your bed. his eyes blow up even wider and mouth falling slightly agape in shock, “sweetheart, please.” your newfound power catches you and eddie slightly off guard, but you could care less- all you want to do is scream at him, maybe even punch him right in that perfect jaw of his.

your leg slithers off the side of the vine ridden bed, shoulders rising and falling as your anger builds higher, “do NOT call me sweetheart!” you shout at him, pointing a shaky index finger at him. eddie shutters from you raising your voice at him, face dropping dismally in return.

in the span of seconds, every thought about your future rushes to your head.

has the choice to have children of your own someday been taken away? are you ever going to see your family again? or even be able to feel the sunlight kissing your skin?

your bottom lip quivers, hot tears building up on your waterline, “you had no right to do this to me! no fucking right!” your voice shudders, gulping down the lump growing in your throat.

“i know. i’m sorry. i’m so, so sorry, baby.” his hands tremble as he reaches out for you, feeling his own emotions building up from the overbearing regret squeezing at his heart.

all you want to do is be in his arms, for him to comfort you and tell you everything will be alright. you stare down at his hands for a moment, admiring his familiar rings that you wish to feel pressing into your skin.

instead of reaching out to him, your fingers rise to gently press against the wound on your neck. no pain surges from your tender touch, realizing that the two marks from his teeth has already scarred over.

your eyes glance behind you to look at your back, noticing two smaller wings drooping low and mimicking your saddened emotions. they aren’t as large as eddie’s, probably not strong enough to hold your body weight in the sky.

“i got carried away, something else came over me… something- something like a wild animal. i should have fought it, baby, but i didn’t… never meant to hurt you, or cause you pain- i was just so hungry, and so lonely.” he hurriedly rushes out to speak, his perfectly plump lips turned down as he rambles.

something about him begging for forgiveness makes you yearn for his touch. you’ve never gotten into an argument with eddie, other than small ones about stupid things like who gets to sleep on a specific side of the bed.

guilt bubbles in your chest from shoving eddie away from you, realizing some sort of otherworldly anger had taken over your body.

you shuffle towards him, hanging your head as you weep silently. his arms hesitantly wrap around your smaller frame, hands squeezing your shoulders before bringing you into his chest, “i love you so much.” his hand caresses the back of your head, smoothing over your hair.

“i love you.” your voice is quiet, shaky from the soft crying still exuding from you.

“i’m sorry i put my hands on you.” you mumble out into his chest, arms finally snaking around his slender waist.

“i deserve it.” he almost chuckles out, sniffling slightly from his running nose. your tears soak into his dirty shirt, hands gripping the muscles in his back as if you’d fall away from him.

eddie’s hand carefully rest upon the dip of your waist, thumb rubbing circles against your skin under your shirt, “now we’re the same temperature.” he points out, which makes you lift your head with a scowl on your expression, “too soon?” he questions with his lips stretched tight.

“way too soon.” you slightly laugh, dipping your head back underneath his chin to snuggle into him. after a few moments of standing in silence together, eddie pulls away to grab your hand.

“wanna fly?”

his words make you perk up, glancing back at your wimpy wings before looking back at him questionably, “mine were like that too, but trust me, they’re stronger than they look.” he flashes his sharp pearly smile at you, excitedly tugging you out of your room.

once you’re both stood on your front doorstep, your head reclines to stare up into the eerie sky. eddie’s wings begin to flap behind him, sending his body upwards to hover above the ground.

“here goes nothin’..” you roll your shoulders back with a shaky nervous breath. you focus on trying to move them first, easily making them open behind you. it’s almost like using a new limb.

you attempt to jump into the air, but your feet still hit the ground instead of flying up beside him.

“before you can run, you have to learn to walk, baby.” eddie touches down next to you, a sly smirk on his face. he wraps his arm firmly around your waist, holding onto you quite securely, “what are you doing?” you ask, but before you could protest he takes off into the sky.

you squeal loudly, hands desperately fisting at his shirt out of fear that you’re going to fall. your legs lift to wrap around his hips, gripping onto his body for dear life. he throws his head back to cackle like a mad man, “open ‘em! let them free!”

you do as you’re told, extending your wings so the current of air expands them even more. the feeling is cold, yet so freeing. eddie slightly pushes you off of his side, making you shoot a nasty glare at him.

“trust me. i will never let you fall.” he stares down at you with his infamous grin. the sight is amazing- his dark unruly hair whipping everywhere, his eyes that seem to glow in the dark, his ghostly skin that still shines under the moonlight.

as you’re busy admiring at his beauty, he’s slowly inching you farther away from him. his fingers still threaded with yours, but your arms are outstretched between your bodies. wings keeping you afloat as you glide through the air.

“oh my god!” you screech when you realize you’re actually flying- well sort of. a toothy grin pulls up on your face as you look around, feeling liberated by the wind flowing against you.

eddie snickers proudly at you, squeezing your hand before yanking away from your grasp. your eyes blow wide from the loss of contact, but surprisingly you don’t spiral down out of the sky.

he soars back and forth, swooping underneath your body to swap places with you. he winks cheekily as he flaunts his tricks, blowing you a kiss.

“show off.” you laugh loudly at him, flipping him the bird. eddie grabs at his chest as if he was stabbed, turning onto his back in the sky with his tongue sticking out and eyes closed.

before you could react to his theatrics, something woven into the wind catches your attention. your eyes dart around the terrain of the alternate dimension, actively searching for whatever it is. all you know is that it smells amazing. your mouth begins to salivate, the only thing you can think about is getting to sink your teeth into it.

it seems as if eddie has noticed the smell too, but his eyes are full of worry instead of hunger like yours, “don’t do it.” he warns, flying forward to grab your hand before you could do anything you’d regret.

pure instinct takes over as you nose dive away from him, searching out the smell with your nose and ears.

“awh fuck.” eddie huffs, rolling his eyes as he follows you downward out of the clouds. he calls out your name repeatedly as he chases you, but you tune him out.

you notice flashlight beams swinging in the withered forest, your wings flapping loudly to hover yourself above the trees, eyes scanning the area.

a group of people are walking through the foliage, cracking fallen sticks under their heavy footsteps. the sound amplifies as you listen into their conversation:

“they could literally be anywhere! i can’t believe i followed you in here, henderson.” mike groans in annoyance, “we need to find them. she’s in danger.” eleven adds.

you drop through the woodland, the wind whooshing past your ears as you dodge astray limbs of trees. you land directly in front of them, fist and knee hitting the ground to break the harsh fall. their conversation goes silent as they examine your every move, mouths hanging open in shock.

your wings frame your body as your eyes flicker up to them, standing tall on your feet. they almost gasp from your appearance, the color of your irises horrifying them to their core.

“y/n…?” dustin calls out, taking a step forward with his hand raised cautiously.

“dustin!” mike hisses at him to warn him as he grows closer. you gulp down your ravenous hunger, stomach growling angrily at you to launch yourself at them.

your hands tremble by your sides, using every amount of self-restraint left in your body to hold yourself back. you can’t hurt them, you just can’t.

“hey, kids.” you flash your pointy grin, making their eyes grow even bigger, if that was possible.

“you… turned?” eleven asks, eyebrows furrowed as she looks over you inquisitively.

the sound of air kicking up behind you causes the kids to flinch, loud purposeful footsteps crunching on the leaves grow closer as they walk up from behind you.

eddie peeks his head out from the side of your wings, showing off his fangs with a big grin and an excited wave, “henderson!“ he exclaims, arms opening for the boy to run to him.

dustin wavers on the possibility of this being a trap to suck his blood, but seeing his best friend alive in front of him makes him sprint right at him.

“holy shit, eddie!” dustin wraps his arms around his torso, hugging him with all his might.

“missed me?” he chuckles, patting the top of his curly head awkwardly as he hugs him back. you can’t help but smile at them two, looking back over at mike and eleven.

the two love birds are staring you both down, especially eleven. she doesn’t buy your fake smile and laughs, and can feel how much pain you’re in by holding yourself back.

you keep eye contact with her, glaring at the girl as your whole body begins to tremble. a little voice is urging you to lunge forward and grab her, to sink your teeth into her carotid artery and feed on her blood.

eddie calls your name out worriedly, slipping away from henderson to carefully glide himself over to you.

the overwhelming smell of blood fills your senses as more people find there way to the clearing. hopper, steve and joyce are running up, flashlights flickering as they jog.

there’s too many.

you stare at eddie with glossy eyes, holding your breath. he goes still when he sees how much you’re struggling to hold back, almost wanting to cry from the look on your face. he knows exactly how you’re feeling, and when he felt it last, he couldn’t hold back; turning you into a monster- just like him.

and that was only one person that tempted him. he doesn’t know how you’re controlling your thirst during this moment.

eddie steps forward when you slightly teeter, gripping your hips as he steps in front of you. his hands cup both of your cheeks to have you focus only on him, “hey, hey… it’s okay. you’re okay, yeah? you’re okay, baby.” he whispers to you, slightly smiling for your sake.

“i can’t- i can’t do this.” you whine softly, nuzzling against his palm with your face screwed up in distress. your arms wrap around his waist, taking a few reluctant steps to press yourself into him. you stuff your face into his neck, breathing in his scent to calm yourself down and mask the other smells.

eddie’s arms immediately encase your body, letting out a relieved sigh. his eyes dart to the people around him, “let her go.” hopper demands.

“jesus christ...” eddie groans obnoxiously, craning his head back to the sky before turning around to stare annoyingly at him.

“first of all, you kids need to go home, and she can’t be down here any longer. she’s going to die!” the ex-police officer shouts impatiently, hand resting on the gun in his holster.

“well, she’s already dead!” dustin yells back at him with his snippy attitude.

hoppers goes silent, looking between everyone. “she’s… dead?” joyce questions, one of her eyebrows raising as she stares at you.

you lift your eyes up from the crook of eddie’s neck to look over his shoulder, your red eyes on full display to everyone.

joyce instantly gasps and hides her face in jim’s side, “my god…” he mumbles in disbelief, his hand falling from his gun as he gawks at you.

“he turned you?” steve points out the obvious, making some of the kids go, “duh!”

“look, i don’t mean to scare you when i say this, but she’s really hungry and if you guys don’t leave now, you’re all going to… well- get eaten.” eddie bluntly tells the truth to them. it keeps them silent for a moment, their eyes darting throughout their group of people.

“what if we bring her food from our world? drop it through the gate so she can eat without hurting anything that’s human.” dustin ponders on the thought.

“like what?“ you blurt out with desperation evident in your voice.

“like an animal? a deer, a bear..?”

“oh, a bear? where are we going to get a bear?” will mocks his idea with a small chuckle, making dustin stutter over his words as he tries to explain his reasoning.

you stifle a laugh in eddie’s neck from their bickering, making him laugh along with you. “bleh! kids, right?” he playfully mumbles into your ear, hands squeezing your hips. the adults join the argument, attempting to diffuse the tension, but it’s just making it worse.

“let’s get out of here.” he mumbles against your skin, bending his knees to launch himself upwards into the sky. the force of his wings picks up the dirt on the ground, twirling up leaves and twigs and leaving a cloud of dust in his place.

“wait! where the hell are they going?” hopper yells, silencing the numerous conversations. everyone’s head looks up into the sky but your bodies have already disappeared into the clouds.

“let’s go get them some food so they don’t make a u-turn and turn one of us into those things.” hopper grumbles, motioning with his hand for everyone to follow him back to the gate.

eddie casually sails through the sky with you, his hand holding onto yours tightly as you glide parallel to him. a wide smile on both of your faces, just basking in the peacefulness of the wind flowing around you. as much as you despised his choice to turn you, now you realize how hard it was for him to hold back with you right under his nose.

some part of you is happy to be like this, especially with him. you don’t exactly know all the details of being an inter-dimensional vampire, whether you’re immortal like fantasy books have fabricated, or maybe you’re subjected to death after a couple hundred years… but who cares when you’ve got him back.

eddie squeezes your hand gently, making your eyes open to see that he’s aiding you in descending slowly back to your darkened home. he touches down with you directly in front of your doorstep, hand instinctively resting on your lower back to guide you inside.

once you make it upstairs, you choose to use your family’s guest bedroom instead of your own, since it’s most likely still a little bloody. eddie lays your trembling body down, slotting himself between your open legs. he leans back on his heels to admire your body, red eyes hooded and a dopey smile on his face.

“gooooorgeous, baby!” eds cheers, dimples sinking into his cheeks as he leans down and catches your lips with his. you laugh into the kiss, arms lazily draping around his neck to pull him closer. his chest presses against yours, chain hanging from his neck above you. he’s obviously trying to get your mind off of eating all your friends, and it’s definitely working.

your index and middle finger wrap around the looped metal when he goes to pull away, tugging him right back to you.

“oooh, feisty.” he purrs, leaning forward to tug your bottom lip between his teeth. he savors the sight of it bouncing back into place, mouth salivating at the sight of you.

“can i call you sweetheart now?” he almost moans into your mouth when your legs wrap around his hips, pulling him flush against your center.

“yes, eds… of course you can.” your hand grips the root of his hair, tugging on it softly since you know he likes it. the movement earns you a delicious moan that tumbles past his swollen lips.

“you better be ready for the best night of your life, sweetheart.” a sly smirk pulls up on his lips as his hands find the seams of your top, tugging on it so it rips into two.

after countless rounds of endless pleasure, a few new dents in the walls (from taking advantage of being able to fly), and a broken bed, your bodies are completely and utterly worn out. your nude chest is pressed into eddie’s side, tiredly resting your head on his bare abdomen. his hand absentmindedly twirls a few pieces of your hair as he hums a tune to a familiar song.

“that was…” he breathes out, letting out a disbelieving chuckle. his brain won’t comprehend what vulgar things he just did to you, and vice versa.

another bonus of being immortal, is very high stamina and absolutely no sweat.

“…so amazing.” you continue his sentence, gazing up at him through your eyelashes with a sluggish smile on your lips.

never would you have ever imagined your boyfriend, the one you tragically mourned for, would come back to life as a vampire. somehow, even with his piercing red eyes and fangs that definitely bite, he’s still the most beautiful person you have ever encountered.

you may be eternally damned to the upside down, but hey, at least eddie is stuck down here with you too.

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#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #vampire eddie munson #vampire eddie au #vampire eddie #eddie the bloody handed #eddie munson smut #stranger things #stranger things spoilers #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #eddie munson fic #kas the bloody handed #dungeons and dragons

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mykoreanlove · 5 months

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Just another day at the dorms - Jisung version

„I can’t believe I’ve lost this stupid bet. I’m gonna kick your ass, Seungmin. Just you wait!“

Furiously, you entered the laundry room with big bags full of stinky shirts, pants and who knows what from the boys. Once again you’ve lost another bet against puppy boy and now you’re doomed as stray kids‘ laundry maid. You emptied the bin and sorted out the various colors as your eyes noticed a very bright and very pink thong, covered in crystals just like a pussy should be immersed in.

„Wait, isn‘t that mine?“

You observed it thoroughly, it definitely did resemble the sexy lingerie you owned. But then again how did it end up in the boys‘ dirty laundry?

You shook your head and dismissed the thought. „Some of them must have shagged a girl with taste for once. Probably Innie, dude‘s been toasted for a while now.“

Days later you were alone at the dorms, relaxing and watching a new drama. Ease and calmness spread through your system as you forgot about schedules, trainings and interviews for once.

„Yah, is that Song Kang? Move y/n, I wanna watch it with you!“

Jisung entered enthusiastically, eager to spend some time with you - and Kang. You always had a special place for him in your heart as Ji was someone you could trust easily. He regularly opened up to you, so naturally you reciprocated the energy. „Come here“, you patted the seat next to you. For hours you watched, talked and laughed until your attention span grew thin.

„Ji, I’m bored“, you whined. „Let’s do something.“

He looked at you expectantly. „Do what?“

You batted your eyelashes at him before attacking him with your fingers. „Something like this“, you said as you tickled him relentlessly.

„Oh my god, stop! Y/N stop“, Ji cried out loud. You caught a quick glimpse of his underwear as he held his arms over his head as a shield. Abruptly, you stopped and walked over to your room, raiding your closet in panic.

„Where is it? Where the fuck is it?“, you cursed, unable to find your bright, pink thong that was covered in crystals.

„Hey, is everything alright?“ Jisung stood at your door, concern on his face.

You walked up to him, sliding his sweater up, revealing the straps of your thong.

„Are you“, you cleared your throat, „are you wearing my thong, Ji?“

You noticed the glimpse of shame in his eyes, but he still chose to be truthful about it.

„I can explain.“

You grabbed his hand and pulled him into your room, shutting the door behind him.

„I’m listening.“

He took a deep breath and began his explanation. „One time, when I lost a bet against Seungmin, I had to do our laundry and somehow your stuff got mixed with ours. I… I found your thong and I couldn’t help it. It just looked so flashy and bright and I imagined what it would feel like to wear it so I stole it from you. I’m sorry, y/n. But I was right, it feels so good on my skin and it makes me feel confident. Sexy even, given the fact that this is forbidden.“

Jisung intrigued you, very much so.

„Show me“, you commanded.

„What?“ Big eyes full of confusion faced you.

„I want to see. Show me.“

Hesitantly, he slid down his pants and showed you your underwear.

The bright color matched perfectly with his white skin. The crystals on his bulge popped even more, now that he was aroused. You walked over to him and turned him around, gazing at his sweet tush in your lingerie.

You hugged him from behind, as you whispered in his ear, hot and heavy. „I kinda like it, Ji. Makes me want to fuck you like a sweet little sub.“

Your hands found his bulge and started kneading, his dick was twitching in your palms immediately. Jisung let out a high squeak.

„Hmm, do you like that?“

He shook his head in agreement.

„Do you want more?“

His whole body vibrated from nodding his head yes. You pushed him on the chair and sat on him, facing him fully.

Your lips slandered his neck as you ground your hips heavily on his hard cock. „Fuck, y/n“, Ji moaned. Instead of replying you stripped him off everything but your thong.

„I like seeing you like that. Such a good boy for me“, you kissed him. Forcefully, you pulled his hair back which made him hiss in even more arousel.

„You wanted me to find out, didn’t you?“

Jisung nodded.

„You wanted me to see you in this, didn’t you?“

He bit his lip and nodded once again.

„You want me to fuck you in nothing but my thong, don’t you?“

His head nodded faster, his desperation growing by the second. You pushed your thong to the side, freeing his aching cock from the fabric. Jisung‘s eyes lit up, unable to comprehend his luck right now. You lifted your hips before sliding down slowly, taking him all in. Jisung was well endowed, his cock thick and eager to please. You felt your pussy twitching around him, he was begging you to ride him. „Use me, y/n. Punish me for stealing your thong. Please.“

You started bouncing on him, bringing both of you close to orgasm within seconds. „I’m close“, he panted. „Let me come inside you y/n, I am begging you.“

You got off of him and pulled your thong back on him, making him come all in your lingerie. It was a mess - sticky fluids covered everything but you didn’t care. Seeing him like that was such a turn on. You rubbed the fabric on the tip of his cock, covering it with cum all over.

Jisung‘s pupils were dilated, not only from his high but also from shock. “Why did you do that? It’s ruined now.“

You laughed and stripped it off him. Jisung watched you put on your thong that was covered in his jizz. He licked his lips, he watched you like a predator watched his prey.

„Don’t worry, Ji. I like them like that.“

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estrellami-1 · 5 months

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More Time (Please)

“Make him pay.”

Steve’s eyes widen in horror. “No,” he murmurs. “Please-”

He doesn’t know what he’s hoping for. That Eddie will say something else, maybe; that happens sometimes, right? People say things more than once. Surely this isn’t it, surely this isn’t the last time they’ll speak to each other—

Eddie’s eyes are widening, and Steve knows he feels the telltale burn of a soulmark, shearing the connection.

“Steve,” Robin calls, jogging back to tug on his arm. “We’ve gotta go, c’mon, it’s time.”

Numb, he lets himself be pulled away.

She glances at him, then back at Eddie a few times. “What was that about?”

He swallows the sob that wants to come out. “Our soulmarks.”

Her eyes widen. “Oh, Steve,” she murmurs.

He glances down at it. Still red. He knows it’s probably going to be the bats. He wishes any number of things, but is reminded of the story his grandma used to tell him. “There’s nothing we can do to change it,” he whispers along with the voice in his head, the same cadence as his grandma.

“Maybe,” she tries. “Maybe- you could go back now, just… yell something at him?”

“Don’t you think the soulmark would know?” He asks sadly. “You can’t cheat the system, Robs, not with this. Those are the last words I’ll ever hear him say.”

“I can’t lose you, Steve,” she whispers, and suddenly his eyes are filled with tears, and he attacks her in a hug, pulling her in until she squeaks.

“I love you, Robin,” he whispers.

“I love you. So much.”

“So much,” he agrees.

Up ahead, Nancy’s waiting on them. “Guys,” she calls. “We have to go. I know you’re scared, I am too, but we don’t have long.”

Steve takes a deep breath. “You’re right,” he agrees, and marches on, holding Robin’s hand tightly in his.

Neither of them try to let go until they have to.

Steve gets slammed against the wall by some vines, and they wind around him until he feels like he understands what asthma feels like, and then beyond that, cracking his ribs and bruising his throat, more, more, more, until suddenly they stop, release him, and he falls onto the wooden floor, scraping his hands and knees and earning a couple of splinters.

He hacks out a cough, stumbles back onto his feet, and follows Nancy and Robin into the belly of the beast.

They find Vecna right where they think they will and attack, and Steve thinks he’s screaming but the rushing of blood in his ears is louder than anything else, and he can’t hear himself, can’t check if he is, just keeps going, does what he can to help weaken Vecna, to help destroy him.

It’s over suddenly, Vecna dead, body riddled with bullets, and Steve glances down at his soulmark, hoping against all hope that it’s still red.

His heart drops through the floor when he sees grey instead.

He tears out of the house, sprints the entire way back, yelling for Eddie, but when he gets there he sees he really is too late.

Dustin’s sitting by his side, bottom lip quivering, tears streaming down his face, and Steve collapses next to him, flutters his hands around Eddie.

Ignoring the blood and gore, he looks almost peaceful, and Steve suddenly knows this is how he would look fifty years from then, dying from old age instead, in a world where their soulmarks gave them more time.

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @muricel @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

#I’ve had this in my drafts for ages #never posted it for some reason #I think I was waiting for a happier ending #but I’m in a crap mood so y’all get this #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #soulmates #last words #steddie #almost #starambles

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sixteenseveredhands · 9 months

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Grote's Bertholdia Moth: when bats are detected nearby, these moths emit a rapid series of ultrasonic clicks that act as a "jammer," interfering with the bat's sonar signals so that the moth can avoid detection

The Grote's bertholdia moth (B. trigona) is capable of emitting about 4,500 ultrasonic "clicks" per second. While there are other types of moths that use ultrasonic signals (in various ways) to avoid being preyed upon by bats, none of them have a more rapid-fire pace than this species.

The barrage of signals provides the moth with a way to remain hidden, because it interferes with the echolocation that bats use to navigate and locate prey.

As this article from Smithsonian explains:

... when approached by the bats, the moths produced their own ultrasonic clicking sounds at a rate of 4,500 times per second, blanketing the surrounding environment and cloaking themselves from sonar detection.

This article also expands upon the use of ultrasonic signals among moths:

Like other nocturnal insects, moths need to contend with bats. Unlike grasshoppers or beetles, they have soft bodies without spines or hard cuticles to protect them. Yet bats’ reliance on echolocation has given moths a way to avoid ending up as food: by tapping into their predators’ acoustic signals. Many have evolved ears that can hear the calls of bats. Some moths make ultrasonic squeaks, chirps, or clicks to warn their predators (honestly or not) that they are poisonous. Others generate near-constant, ultrasonic buzzes capable of jamming bat sonar.

Sources & More Info:

Smithsonian Magazine: How One Moth Species Can Jam Bats' Sonar Systems

The Scientist: Many Moths Speak Up to Ward Off Bats

Science.org: Moths Block Bats' Sonar

PubMed: High Duty Cycle Moth Sounds Jam Bat Echolocation

Journal of Theoretical Biology: Neural Representation of Bat Predation Risk and Evasive Flight in Moths

#moth #lepidoptera #biology #grote's bertholdia #Bertholdia trigona #adaptation #evolutionary arms race #bats #nature #echolocation #cool bugs #tw insects #ultrasonic animals #arthropods #bugs #weird animals

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divine-knight-hand · 1 year

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Mining Pains (Haley x Reader)

Haley Masterlist || Full Masterlist || Read on AO3

Pairing: Wife!Haley x Female Farmer!Reader

Summary: After reaching level forty-five of the mines, it’s time for Pelican Town’s favorite farmer to fight for the safety of her wife, Haley.

Warnings: Slight gore (Nothing too scary, tho), a teensy bit of angst, and fluff all the way.

Word count: 3,182

Dividers by @cute-sushi-roll

“Haley, I would really prefer if you were back home, where it’s safe.” I insisted. As much as I enjoyed my wife’s company in the mines, I’d never brought her past level forty, and we were currently on level forty-four. I was wary enough going this deep into the mine system on my own. Bringing Haley with me would be a whole other battle.

Usually, I brought her along with me when I needed to grab basic materials like stone, coal, or copper for the farm. I would gather these while fighting off monsters, and Haley would hold torches in the darker areas of the mines, sometimes wielding a slingshot when things got a little hairy.

This time, Clint asked me to gather some iron for his tool upgrade service. I obliged, and Haley was more than eager to insist on coming with me. Being the pushover that I was when it came to making my wife happy, I reluctantly agreed.

I donned black overalls over a long-sleeve red sweater, with thick brown boots. Haley wore a long-sleeve light blue sweater with her favorite pink skirt over a pair of light blue leggings, with some pink sneakers.

With our outfits picked out, and our spelunking gear gathered, we headed into the mines by Robin’s house, and It was only by sheer luck that we hadn’t run into anything intense yet.

She spoke up as we approached the ladder down to the next level, “Don’t worry about me, honey. I want to help you. Besides, it’s like an adventure!” She squealed on the last sentence, clearly excited.

Once we made it down the ladder, I felt a small wave of relief at the sight of the elevator, accompanied by its usual light-hearted ding, as if it was happy to see me, too.

Haley skipped ahead, “How much iron did Clint ask for, anyways? Do you think he needs a lot?”

I paused to check my backpack. Clint asked for five iron bars. So far, we only had enough iron to make three.

I sighed to myself and responded, “Just a little more. We shouldn’t be too much longer.”

We advanced deeper into the cavern. The air was still and dank, untouched by the crisp winds above surface level. I would have considered this place serene, had these walls not housed some of the deadliest monsters in Pelican Town.

“AH!” Haley’s scream snapped me out of my thoughts. I realized that I fell behind as we walked, and I rushed over to where Haley fumbled for her slingshot, nervously shuffling away from a small green slime.

I chuckled, my heart slowing back to a normal pace as I drew my sword and slayed it in one slash. Me and Haley then both jumped back to avoid the resulting splash of green slime.

“Yuck.” Haley stared down at the slime spattered against the floor, “That was a close one…”

“You’re telling me.” I sheathed my sword before approaching her and placing my hands on her shoulders, “I assume this means you’re okay, then?”

Haley smiled at me, “Yes, honey. I’m okay. I promise.” She leaned forward until our foreheads touched.

I closed my eyes and sighed, “If you say so… but I’d still like to take you home.”

I felt her arms snake their way around my waist, “Don’t worry about me. Please.”

My eyes fluttered open and I could see that hers were still closed, like she was waiting for something. She was waiting for me.

I traced my thumb along her jaw, feeling her shudder under my touch, “Haley…” I breathed.

Suddenly, a wispy blue fog slowly rolled in to cloud the air around us, and I heard a distant squeaking. Damnit!

Haley felt me freeze and her eyes flew open, “What’s going on? Are you- AHHHHHH! BEHIND YOU!” We jumped apart and I turned to see a swarm of bats flying straight toward us, the squeaking sounds growing in volume as they neared us.

I turned back to Haley and grabbed her shoulders, slightly shaking her to emphasize my next command, “Haley. Elevator. Now. Go!”

She quickly nodded and I let go of her so we could run to the elevator. I instantly regretted my choice of shoes. Though my boots were great for crossing rocky terrain, they were also heavy and slowed me down significantly. Haley, who made the smarter choice of a light pair of sneakers, sped ahead.

I looked over my shoulder to see the swarm gaining on me. Damnit! When I turned to look back ahead, I saw Haley reach the elevator and turn back to me, fear etched into her features as she saw that I still had ground to cover. I knew then that if she waited until I made it into the elevator to close the door, we’d be stuck with a bat-filled ride to the surface. That would have been less than ideal. I had one idea left to keep her completely safe.

“Close the door!” I shouted as I slowed to a walk.

“What?!” Haley went pale in the face, “Are you crazy?!”

“Just close it!” I repeated.

Haley shifted with discomfort, “But-”

“CLOSE IT!” I roared. I never really liked yelling at her, but this was really important. I had to get her to listen.

Haley jumped at my shout, looking a little sad before finally obliging and closing the elevator door. It was all up to me now.

I quickly turned and unsheathed my sword, ready to take on the giant ominous swarm that approached me. Here goes nothing.

I flicked my sword in a quick circle before swiping at the mob in front of me. Three bats drew back and squeaked in pain. The rest of the swarm approached me, some coming at me from the side. I quickly dodged backward before lunging at the mob in front of me. I nailed two more bats before one of them snuck behind me and bit my arm.

I let out a yelp, more out of frustration than pain, and smacked it away with my hand, stomping it into the ground when it fell. Those few seconds were all the swarm needed to distract me before they saw an opportunity to swoop in and strike.

Three bats bit and clawed at my other arm, the one I was holding my sword with. I dropped it in surprise, giving three more an opportunity to attack my left side.

All I saw was a blur of black, accompanied by the occasional pair of red eyes. One scratched my cheek. Several bit my legs. I groaned and fell to the floor, unaware of how bad my injuries were or how much I was bleeding out.

The bites were so deep, I felt a jolt of pain blast through my body with each one. As the bats grew bolder, the bites and scratches grew more frequent.

I desperately looked at my sword, lying tantalizingly close to me, yet too far to be of any actual use to me. I strained against the bats to reach for it, only to receive more bites and scratches on my outstretched hand.

Tears sprung to my eyes as the stinging sensations continued to grow in intensity. I began to feel dizzy, almost unable to focus on anything. The squeaks were deafening in my ears. I struggled through blurry vision as the black blobs continued to bite and scratch me.

“Come on.” I softly coaxed myself as I began dragging myself toward my sword. The bats must have sensed my newfound determination, because their bites and scratches began assailing me with more speed than ever before.

I gritted my teeth against the pain and kept pushing myself, moving closer to my sword. I was finally able to grab the handle, and I picked up my sword to turn it against the attacking swarm.

I slashed against the swarm, scaring them back long enough to be able to rise unsteadily to my feet. Once I somewhat gained my footing, I continued attacking the bats, and they began dropping like flies. Some kept trying to sneak up on me from behind, but I saw them and was able to turn and slash them each time.

Finally, I defeated the last bat, and I sat in the newfound silence of the cavernous room around me. The fog rolled away, leaving me in the middle of the carnage I created. After fighting what felt like a million bats, only about eight corpses lay around me.

I hissed at the sudden jolt of pain in my body and looked down. My outfit had numerous tears all over it, decorated in between tears with blood and dirt, and I was actively bleeding from places that I often overlooked on normal days. My head swam, and I fell to my knees before crawling toward the elevator, still dizzy from battle.

“Haley…” I groaned, “Haley… It’s safe now.”

The door opened and I heard her audibly gasp, “Oh my Yoba! What happened?!” She helped me into the elevator, an action that ignited the pain all over me again. I couldn’t help but let out a loud groan, “We have to get you to Harvey.”

I leaned my head against the cool wall of the elevator as she pressed the level zero button, “It’s late. He’s closed…”

“Trust me.” Haley insisted as the doors closed, “I think he’ll take this emergency call.” The elevator began to move and she crouched over me, “Where does it hurt?”

I looked into her eyes, willing myself not to drown in the ocean blue as I groaned, “Everywhere…”

The sad look returned to her eyes, “This looks really bad. I don’t think I can walk you to the hospital like this.”

I raised my hand and cupped it against her cheek, “Haley…”

She held my hand and I winced as a stinging sensation came alive in it. I then watched as Haley slid my backpack off my shoulders and dug inside.

“A-ha!” She pulled out a roll of gauze and got to work on my overalls, quickly dropping them around my hips before raising my shirt over my arms. Her resulting gasp bounced around in the small elevator.

I looked down to see that I looked a lot worse off underneath my clothes. My bra somehow remained intact, but blood oozed out of all the bite and scratch marks that covered me. I shuddered as the cold air brushed against my skin. It almost relieved the pain. Almost.

“Hold still.” Haley began wrapping my arm in gauze, “Hopefully, this should slow your bleeding until we can get to Harvey.” She shifted to begin wrapping my torso before adding, “I think I saw this in one of those doctor shows, once.”

I chuckled at this before wincing at the motion. All I could do painlessly was watch as my wife poured over me, focus knitting her brows. Damn! She looks sexy when she’s focused.

I accidentally let part of my idea slip out of my mouth, so Haley heard, “Mmn…Sexy…”

She looked at me and raised her eyebrows, “Oh, Yoba! You’re delirious already?!” I wasn’t really concerned. I just wanted her to kiss me… Maybe I was delirious.

She finished wrapping my torso and other arm before helping me back into my clothes, “Sorry! There isn’t enough to do your legs.”

“Sssfine…” I mumbled.

She then helped me to my feet and wrapped my arm around her shoulders, and we stepped out of the elevator as soon as the doors opened.

I leaned against Haley’s body, trying, with extreme difficulty, to keep most of my weight off of her as we left the mines. The sky was dark, but little stars in the sky lit our way through the darkness. All was quiet. All was calm. It was nice.

As we walked, I caught a whiff of something and turned towards Haley to take a deeper sniff. Somehow, the scent of her shampoo survived our trip into the depths.

“Strawberries and cream…” I sighed into her hair.

“I know it’s your favorite shampoo of mine.” She softly giggled as we passed Robin’s house.

A beat of silence passed as we approached the community center. Haley sighed, “I was so worried in there.”

“Hmm?” I stumbled before Haley quickly caught me and we kept moving. My legs hurt so badly. It felt like they were getting pricked and stabbed over and over. I just hoped we were close to the hospital.

“You were defending me while I just stood around doing nothing.” She frowned, “Just shows how useless I am.” I squinted as the darkness and my dizziness worked against my eyes, threatening to hide my wife’s face from me.

We were nearing Pierre’s general store as I tried to reassure her, “No… You’re not…”

We finally made it to the door of the hospital and Haley knocked harshly on the door, “Don’t worry about that now. We’re here.”

I let out a deep sigh, frustrated that my body was giving out, unable to keep up with my mind. It was a miracle I didn’t pass out already, but that wasn’t enough for me. After a heartbeat of silence, Haley knocked again.

“Harvey!” She called, “Harvey! Please, come out!” She knocked again, “Harvey, please!”

I wanted to be able to hold her and reassure her that everything was alright. That I would be fine and that she was the exact opposite of useless. That I appreciated her trying new things with me, helping me on the farm, and even joining me in the mines. I wanted to say that I loved her so much that the idea of not having her around could drive me crazy.

But all I could do was watch as the hospital door slowly cracked open and the edges of my vision slowly went black, “Haley? OH MY YOBA!!!” Harvey’s face contorted with pure shock and horror once his eyes landed on me, “What happened to you two?!”

“I’m fine!” Haley responded, “It’s her! She needs help.” Every voice began to sound like I was listening to it from underwater.

Harvey opened the door and beckoned us inside, “Come in! Let me help.”

The black at the edges of my vision slowly rolled in, and my body began to feel heavy.

“Alm.. th… ay?” Haley said something that was really difficult to hear, “...d on… St’a… ttl… thr…”

All I could do was softly sigh before everything went black.

━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━

When I came to, I found myself on one of the hospital beds. Haley sat next to me, holding my hand. It was bandaged up, along with the rest of my body. Other than the bandages, the only thing covering me was a lightweight blanket.

“You’re awake!” Haley teared up, “I’m so happy!”

“What happened?” I didn’t think I had the strength to bring my voice above a mumble, yet.

“Harvey had to do a blood transfusion.” She brought her other hand to hold mine in both of hers, “But he was struggling to find a match for you.”

A match? Someone in Pelican Town had the same blood type as me? My mind raced, “Who was it?”

“He’s in the other room.” She was dodging the question.

“Haley.” I tried to bring her back on track.

“Harvey’s giving him some cookies and juice to get his energy back up.” Clearly, that didn’t work.

“Haley…” I tried again.

“And Harvey says you should be up and running again in as little as a few days. Isn’t that great?” Damn! She’s persistent.

“Haley, please! Answer the question. Who was my match?”

Haley sighed, “Okay, okay… You matched with Alex.”

WHAT?! I refused to believe it. There was no way Alex would help me. Last time I checked, we didn’t particularly like each other.

“I know it’s hard to believe,” Haley started, “But he’s a good person.”

“Color me surprised.” I dryly remarked.

“Forget that,” She dismissed, “Though I expect you to thank him later.”

“I will.” I sighed.

Haley just chuckled to herself, “I know you will. You’re very kind.” I smirked at her before she continued, “You’re very kind to me, at least.” She brushed some of my hair away from my face, “What did I do to deserve you?”

“Haley,” I started, “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true!” She frowned, “You got hurt really badly, just for me.”

“I couldn’t bear to live in a world where I let you get hurt.” I pulled her hands up to my face to give them an affectionate kiss, “You mean the world to me, Lee. Remember that.”

“How?” Haley sniffled, tears collecting in her eyes again, “All I’m good for is taking stupid pictures, reading magazines, and going shopping. I’m useless! No, now I’m worse than useless. I’m a burden! How could you love someone like me? How could you risk getting hurt this badly for me? I try helping out in the mines to make myself useful, but look at what I did.” Her tears began spilling over her cheeks, “This is all my fault.”

I decided to take this moment to sit up. I groaned at the pain of the movement, but it wasn’t bad enough to keep me down, “Haley,” I framed her face with my hands, “None of this is your fault. You are precious to me. That’s why I wanted to protect you. By the way, your photos are beautiful. They’re works of art. It’s a wonder they aren’t in one of those magazines you like reading.” She sadly smiled, and I wiped away another tear with my thumb before continuing, “And I would take you shopping an infinite amount of times if it meant getting to see that little sparkle of joy in your eyes when I get you a cute new skirt. You don’t have to earn my love, Lee. You had it from the moment I laid eyes on you.”

I pulled her in and kissed her on the cheek before resting my face in the crook of her neck, “You are not a burden. You’re the love of my life. You’re my highest privilege.”

I felt her wrap her arms around me, and it barely hurt when she did, “You really mean that?”

“I do.” I kissed her again, before trailing rapid kisses around her face and neck, breathing in between each one, “I do. I do. I do. I do…”

She softly giggled, “I love you.”

I broke my streak of kisses to look her in her eyes, “I love you, too, Lee. I love you so much.” I kissed her forehead, “The moment I make you believe otherwise is the moment I’ve failed as your wife.”

“Impossible.” She smiled, “You’re the best wife in the world.”

“Thank you,” I smirked, “But I think my wife is a lot cooler than yours.”

A light pink dusted her cheeks as she giggled, “Maybe we can settle for a tie?”

“Maybe.” I held Haley to my chest and we both sighed in content and comfort, “Maybe…”

#stardew valley #haley stardew valley #haley x reader #fluff #a bit of violence #romance in the mines

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laundrybiscuits · 11 months

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Eddie's mama always used to say that the night sky over Orion was the most beautiful sight in the Alpha Quadrant. She'd tuck him into her side at bedtime and tell him about the way the dim red lamps clustered in the markets never stopped you being able to see the bright stars and the swirling lights of the nearby nebula, so it was just a shimmering sea of red below and a shimmering sea of blue-purple-gold above, light and dark all mixed up together so you couldn’t tell the difference.

Eddie's never laid eyes on it himself, but he always liked hearing her talk about it. He asked Wayne about it once or twice, when he was younger, but Wayne grew up like Eddie's old man: roaming around systems farther and farther from the Orion sector, following whatever work he could get. Eddie's old man was a sight less choosy about which jobs he'd take than Wayne was, which is why Eddie’s been living with Wayne for about as long as he can remember.

Starfleet offered to help Eddie relocate, after everything went down. They even offered to make sure he got to Orion okay, if he'd wanted it, to reconnect with his heritage or whatever.

He hadn't wanted it. But he also hadn't really wanted to stay where he’d been planetside, where his official job was helping Wayne out with the Starfleet Academy’s satellite campus canteen, and his unofficial job was procuring various not-Starfleet-approved odds and ends for cadets looking for something to help them weather the pressures of the Academy.

Commander Hopper, newly returned from the dead, had made it pretty damn clear that Eddie's sideline was no longer going to be an option, anyway.

So he'd talked to Wayne, and he'd talked to Commander Hopper, and he'd even talked a little to Nancy Wheeler because she's smart as hell—everyone knows she's one of the top candidates for joining, and a symbiont is going to snatch her up any day now.

After all that talking, he still doesn’t really know what to do, so Hopper sighs and tells him he doesn’t have to decide right away.

“I just,” he says later, to Robin. “I don’t know what I’m doing here, but it’s not like I got any big plans somewhere else, either. Plus, everyone on the damn station still looks at me like I’m a murderer. Or at least Orion filth.”

Robin sort of gets it, a little bit, but she’s Starfleet. It’s different in uniform, even for half-Andorians who once crashed a runabout into the side of the base.

“You could always apply to the Academy,” she says, but she’s got a grimace like she already knows that’s never gonna happen. Even if they’d take him, he’d have no chance of making it through the course, not when he’d squeaked through the standard Federation educational system by the skin of his teeth. He can’t really picture himself in the uniform anyway. Not his style at all.

“Think those feral bat creatures gobbled up whatever mutant gland makes people want to join Starfleet,” he just says, pulling up his shirt and prodding at his wounds to make her laugh.

Of course that’s when Steve Harrington walks in, when Eddie’s got his shirt hiked up around his armpits and all his shiny new scars are on full display.

The scars are still a lurid emerald going brownish-purple around the edges. When he’d first woken up in the medbay, he’d been told that they’d probably fade with time, but might never go away despite all the intensive dermal regeneration treatments he’s still going in for every week. He doesn’t mind so much, honestly; he’s never been too hung up on his looks. People who want to fuck an exotic, dangerous Orion aren’t exactly going to be put off by scars, so who knows? This might actually help him out a little in the dive bars he tends to haunt when he gets skin-hungry enough.

But it’s definitely not doing him any favors now, as Steve pauses in the doorway, looking kind of confused. Eddie quickly yanks his shirt back down, hiding a wince. Steve’s already seen him at his worst, Steve’s not a fucking option for a million reasons, so it’s not like it matters, but—anyway.

“Junior Lieutenant Harrington,” he says. “Heard about the promotion. Congrats.”

“Thanks,” says Steve. “I think it’s like, you get three or four concussions saving the station, and the system just puts the promotion through automatically.”

“I can’t wait to see what it takes for you to make Lieutenant, non-junior edition,” says Robin. “Do you think you’ll need to be in an actual coma?”

“Probably, at this rate,” Steve says, wandering over and leaning into her side companionably. “Don’t think anything’s really going to change aside from the pay, though.”

“Nah, just wait.” Eddie rocks back on his heels, grinning at Steve. “You’ll be battling evil wormhole monsters on perilous away missions and teaching alien babes how to love before you know it. The daring adventures of Spaceman Steve! Eat your heart out, James T. Kirk.”

“Henderson still thinks you’re gonna join up too,” says Steve.

��What, Starfleet? Where the hell’d he get that idea?”

“Ugh, we were just talking about that,” groans Robin. “Eddie’s still being stubborn about it.”

Eddie crosses his arms. “Wheeler’s on my side.”

“No shit, Eddie. You’re his…game lord, or whatever.”

“What—no, dumbass, like I’d ever ask Cadet Wheeler for advice. Nancy goddamn Wheeler agrees I’d make a shit Starfleet officer, so there. Besides,” Eddie says, shifting a little uncomfortably. “I dunno if I could handle not living planetside. I know you guys have missions and stuff, but it’s not the same, is it? You live on a floating hunk of metal, like, ninety-nine percent of your life. Don’t know if that’s for me.”

“Didn’t figure you for the kind of guy who wanted to put down roots,” says Steve.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “It’s not about roots. Don’t you ever feel weird about not living somewhere…you know, real? Everything around you is made exactly for you.”

“And that’s…bad?” says Steve. His brow’s furrowed like he’s actually asking.

“Not if you don’t think it is.” Eddie shrugs. “I just don’t think it works for me.”

“Okay, yeah, we get it,” says Robin. “You’re off to the next adventure, whatever that ends up being. Better cash in your chips soon, though; Hopper’s not gonna have that recently-reanimated pull forever.”

Steve frowns thoughtfully. “What about running, like, a transport ship or whatever? Is that weird with the, uh, pirate thing?”

“Little bit,” says Eddie. “But that’s…not the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

Actually, the more he thinks about it, the better it sounds. Some shiny little skiff, just big enough for him and some cargo, zipping around from planet to satellite to base, hanging out in random ports. It’ll be a little rough to go solo, and jobs might be a little scarcer than they’d be for a human or something, but then again, he’s used to that.

No, it’s not the worst idea he’s ever heard.

#STxST AU #steddie #okay I've tried a few different angles on this one but I think this might be the one that sticks. hopefully. who knows.#I just really want to write Eddie as basically Orion-diaspora!Kasidy Yates #(I've mostly just watched DS9 + DIS + LD + TOS with a smattering of TNG/VOY)#(and I saw the TOS movies many years ago but only the first reboot movie)#(so...sorry if I screw any universe details up! memory-alpha can only go so far!)#fic: hazy cosmic jive

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letstrythisout4 · 1 month

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Chapter 3: Blaise Zabini and his increasing exasperating day

Series Masterlist

By the third week of school Blaise had a schedule set up. Wake up at 7am and take a run around the Quidditch pitch. (And when Quidditch season starts he has already decided he’s just going to wake up even earlier). Take a shower, get ready and make it to the Great Hall early enough to be the first person to sit down at the Slytherin table.

The schedule is perfect. He gets to dodge his roommates, release some energy on his run, take his time getting ready to make sure he feels prepared for the day; all with enough time to make sure he gets access to all the food first so he isn’t just eating everyones leftovers.

It’s great.

It also allows him plenty of room to switch up his schedule. Nothing major, getting up at 7 and being first at the table are non negotiable. But everything in between can be subject to change.

Which leads to situations like today, where Blaise is heading to the kitchens for the first time in his Hogwarts career. After reading through Hogwarts : A History Blaise has come to the conclusion that the best way to get an audience with the Hogwarts elves is through the kitchen. As he approaches the infamous painting with a bowl of fruit which is said to lead to his destination, Blaise stops and for the first time wonders, “What the hell am I going to say?”.

This leads to Blaise pacing in front of the portrait for a good few minutes having an internal debate with himself.

Ok, what’s my end goal?

I want to be in their good graces.

Why?

Because they do so much for the castle and everyone is ungrateful.

…cute. What else?

…It would be nice if they would drop off my clothes when I’m there so I can organize them. How I like it, to keep it in perfect condition.

That sound so fucking pretentious.

Well I am pretentious so what of it?

Fair.

But how am I going to word that?

I don’t know, it's probably best to just be honest and get it over wi-

“Can we help you sir?” squeaked a voice to his left.

Blaise, stiffly, turned towards the voice to find an elf poking her head out from behind the portrait. All that could be seen was her bat-like ears and large blue eyes.

“Yes, actually I was wondering if I could speak to an elf about some…request I have concerning my clothing?” Blaise choked out.

I hate this, is all Blaise could think as he watched the elf process what he just said. How could I be so stupid as to not plan this out? I always plan out my conversations, that’s what I do, I plan.

“Would you like to discuss it now or shall I find you later, sir?”

“Now works just fine.” said Blaise doing his best to hold in his frown at the formal way she addresses him.

“Oh well,” she muttered, clearly unprepared to have someone actually want to speak to her “ please come inside so that we can figure something out.”

Bliase followed her through the portrait and took a breath just to absorb all the wonderful smells he was suddenly surrounded by. He did his best not to stare at the way the elves were so focused and coordinated in their movements in preparation for the children they were about to serve.

The little elf sat him down at a small table against the wall, out of the way of the mass operation commencing at the same time that Blaise came to beg for them to take special care in delivering his laundry.

I don’t like this.

“So what I can I help you with?” she practically whispered, refusing to make eye contact.

I don’t like this.

“I’m sorry I’d just prefer if instead of putting my clothes away for me, if we could set up a time where I can take the clothes from you personally, so I can put them away myself.”

She did a slow absent blink.

“I just am really particular about how I have my personal items set up, I have systems etc. So I’d really just appreciate it if you could give me my clothes directly.”

Another blink.

I don’t like this.

You’re too deep now, you must commit.

“I’ve noticed you all tend to clean the rooms and put away the clothes between 11pm-12am every Tuesday while I’m at astronomy with the other Slytherins of my year.”

Another blink.

“So if instead you could meet me just before or after astronomy so that I can take care of it myself, that would be perfect.”

Another blink.

Blaise whipped his palms on his slacks as covertly as he could under the table.

Why won’t she say something?

“You don’t want us to put away your clothes for you?” she mumbles with a shaky breath.

“Yes…” Blaise is starting to become incredibly worried with the condition that the elf is in.

“But everyone prefers it when we do it for them.” She now has a tone of confusion that does nothing to aid Blaise’s stress levels.

“Well I am weird in that sense, I have a bit of an obsession with organization so-” he trails off trying to find the right words “- I really appreciate all that you all do for us but if I could do this one thing for myself I would be infinitely happier.”

Another blink.

Blaise sends her his most disarming smile.

“Okay.” she agrees as if she was winded.

“Okay?”

“Okay, what’s your name sir?”

“Blaise Zabini.”

“Well Mr. Zabini, I shall ensure to arrive 30 minutes before your astronomy class with your clothes.” she promises with wringing her hands together.

“Thank you so much…”

“Daisy.” she stammered.

“What a lovely name, thank you so much Daisy. I’ll see you then.” Blaise said quickly.

Eager to be finished with that conversation and out of the kitchens, he walks as quickly as possible without looking rushed out of the kitchens and to the Great Hall.

I hated that.

I hated that so much.

Why the hell didn’t I plan that conversation out.

The things I do for organization, is the last thought Blaise allows himself to have before he stares at all the food before him losing his appetite entirely only being able to force down two pieces of bread with jam and a chalice of apple juice.

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

He sets off to History Of Magic the second he convinces himself that he’s eaten enough. He arrives beyond early, not even Binn’s is here yet. The classroom is set up the same as a muggle ‘Lecture’ classroom he visited for an abroad program in the States- though he’d never voice the comparison outloud. He takes his usual seat- he far back against the right wall to give him a perfect view of the entire classroom. Pulling out his textbook, parchment and his quills and sets himself up for today's lecture.

Blaise loves History of Magic.

He might be the only person to have ever sat in this classroom and to have thought that unironically. And he’s fine with that. There’s something about history that has always consumed Blaise. And it seems not even Binn’s monotone voice can kill his love for the stories of the past.

And so by the time Blaise has perfected his setup, students begin to trickle in. First is a Hufflepuff girl. Blaise has seen her around before; it's practically impossible not to, considering they share 3 classes together a week, but it's more than that. She seems to not exist outside of these classes. Everyone else Blaise catches a glimpse of in the hallway or at dinner or lunch or just somewhere. But she seems to disappear the second she walks out of the classroom.

And it pisses Blaise off.

Blaise likes to think of himself as observant. He knows things about people. He can tell that despite having met only in the beginning of the year two Ravenclaw boys are already squabbling with each other. He can tell that ever since she’s demonstrated her brilliance Hermione Granger has been isolated from her house. He can tell when Flitwick is having a bad day. He can tell Pansy is getting an irritating letter from home. He can tell when Susan Bones is talking down to Anthony Goldstein despite her sweet tone.

What he can’t tell is who the hell this Hufflepuff is. All he has is a name and information gathered from his eavesdropping. Name: “Isabella Reyes”. Isabella is apparently Black and Latino, which tracks with her light brown skin and curly black hair constantly pulled into a messy ponytail. She’s a Hufflepuff. Blaise had to stop himself from exclaiming, “No shit we all wear house robes.” when he heard someone whispering it to their friend group like it was the juiciest piece of gossip ever heard. And that’s it.

That is all Blaise has gathered in the weeks since starting school.

And it keeps him up at night.

And what is most upsetting is, there is no real way to fix this.

Blaise refuses to become a stalker, eavesdropping hasn’t gained him any information, and he will not speak to her directly.

Not even an option.

This plagues him. Far more than it should considering he’s never spoken to her.

But just as he starts to gain momentum in his frustration Binns begins the class…and at what point everyone filled in the seats Blaise couldn't tell you.

An hour and half later, Blaise has been sufficiently distracted with information about Emeric the Evil.

That is until he runs right into the problem he needed to be distracted from, knocking her right to the floor.

Damn. Two unplanned conversations and one bad meal in a day. What have I done to deserve this? Blaise asks the Universe as he puts out his hand to help Isabella up.

“Thanks.” she says shortly as he takes his hand.

A short “a”. She pronounced “Thanks” with a short “a” sound.

“You’re American.” Blaise states plainly, pulling her up.

All this time and the first thing and that's the first thing I say? I don’t know what I did, but Universe I am sorry.

She looks at him like he's an idiot. “Yes, thanks for pointing that out for me.”

They both start collecting her books and papers from the floor. Why have a school bag if you're just going to carry everything in your hands?

Blaise hovers with tense shoulders as he hands her her things to put away. Finished, she turns to leave and makes it four steps before turning back around and asking, “Can I ask you a weird question?”

“You just did.”

She was not amused with this response.

“I’m going to take that as a yes. What were you doing pacing outside the Hufflepuff common room?”

Daisy must have rubbed off on Blaise because all he could think to do was blink.

“This morning~” she taunts.

“I wasn’t pacing outside of your common room, I was pacing outside of the kitchens.”

She was quick, “Why?”

“I needed to ask for a favor from the elves?”

“Why?”

“Because I need their help.”

“Why?”

“None of your business.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“I’ve seen you people watching. I’ve seen you blend into the background and listen in on people’s conversations.”

There’s a beat.

“Incorrect, try again.”

Another beat.

“Excuse me?”

“What you are implying is factually incorrect, I don’t do any of those things on purpose. They just happen.” Blaise said confidently.

Blaise Zabini is a bold-faced liar to everyone but his mother. He has mastered the art of spouting false information with expressions varying from a straight face to the most dazzling smile anyone has ever seen. The only one who has ever seen through this is his mother, hence why he doesn’t like to lie to her.

It's pointless to even attempt to.

The second the sentence leaves his mouth, Isabella is striding towards him. Blaise resists the urge to take a step back when she stops right in front of him.

And then she stares. She stares right into his eyes and suddenly Blaise feels compelled to tell the truth.

Before he can even think of something to say in response to her actions she takes another step forward and this time he can’t stop himself from taking a step back.

“I know that you don’t know me yet so I’m going to let that lie slide. But for the record, I do not appreciate being lied to. I will clock any lies you tell me whether it is in the moment or after digging, but I will find out. So I strongly suggest, for the sake of your health and sanity, that going forward you are just honest to me. Either tell me the truth, or that you aren’t comfortable to talk about it or whatever logic you have behind not wanting to tell me something but do not lie. Because from now on I will not accept you looking me in my face and lying to me.”

She takes a moment to breathe “ Okay?”

“Definitely, I’m sor-”

“Don’t apologize, just don’t do it again.”

And with that threat (?) she turns around, makes a left and is gone.

…Blaise has even more questions than he did before.

Starting with, what the hell does she mean “yet”?

Author's notes: thanks for reading

#blaise zabini #draco malfoy #harry potter #slytherin #slytherin boys #pansy parkinson #theodore nott #blaise x oc

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crowned-aeris · 3 months

Text

The preqel to my Reverse Robins Wingfic; aka "To Brace Upon Benign Feathers"

Its from tim’s POV, because he’s my pookie and I love him very much. it also briefly switches to bruce’s POV toward the end, so i hope it’s not too jarring

Also: Warning for self harm, ig. Y’know how some species of birds pluck their feathers when they’re stressed? that’s what Tim does

===

Tim watched; his eyes glimmered with an awe-struck light as Batman and his Shadow soared through the sky. The pair weaved through the air, their dark-clothed forms momentarily blotting out the streetlight as they descended upon the cluster of criminals.

The edge of Shadow's blade flashed as a criminal's scarlet blood spilled across the ground. The wounds were shallow and non-lethal, but Tim still captured Batman's disapproving look.

"Tt," Shadow scoffed before flaring out his dyed wings, the criminals shrieking before scrambling away from the teen, only to end up in the grasp of the looming Batman.

Tim raised his camera and snapped a photo, his teeth digging into his bottom lip to silence his excited hums.

Click.

Batman tied the criminals together before leaving them on the side of the road and contacting the GCPD. Shadow glared at the criminals, "Tt. In the League, dissenters would have their wings sawed off as a warning to other potential traitors."

The criminals stared at the Bat with wide, fearful, and pleading eyes. Tim winced, ruffling his still-fresh flight feathers.

"But we aren't in the League," Batman sighed. It sounded like the pair had had this conversation multiple times, and Tim wouldn't doubt it.

Shadow narrowed his eyes behind the domino mask, pivoting before launching himself onto the roof Tim was on. The falcon stifled an undignified squeak before ducking behind the HVAC unit. The sound of heavy wingbeats filled the air as Batman chased after his son.

"Everything would be easier if you adopted the League's teachings as Mother suggested," Shadow growled, unconsciously ruffling his wings in a manner glaringly similar to Batman's.

"We've been over this," Batman sighed, sounding more frustrated than ever, "Talia left you with me. You're not in the League anymore, D- Shadow. You need to follow my rules, which means no killing. No Maiming. And no lethal use whatsoever."

Shadow hissed in irritation, but he didn't bother to argue.

Tim hummed. What was Batman about to say?

As the fledgling watched the pair leap off the roof to continue their patrol, he prepared to procure a list of names that began with "D."

-----

How likely were Batman and Shadow to be Bruce and Damian Wayne?

It would make sense...

Oh god, his neighbors were the Batman and the Shadow! Wow, that... actually made sense.

Huh… that’s so cool.

-----

This... was decidedly less cool...

Tim stared at the social worker, his expression lax with shock. In his chest, Tim's heart jack-rabbited against his ribcage, beating out an incredulous tone that filled him with disbelief as dread pooled in his gut.

His parents had died in a plane accident while on a plane back from Taiwan. Tim had talked to them last night, and his mom had even said he'd bring back a souvenir and some snacks for Tim to try out and- and-

"Sorry, son," the man said, but he didn't look too sorry. In fact, he looked guilty.

It took everything in him to force his disposition to remain calm and collected. He was a Drake, and Tim would be hard-pressed before he demolished the castle his mother and father had built brick-by-brick that was their reputation. He will not allow the Drake Name to fall into ruin just because he was careless.

"Will I be going into the system?" Tim asked, feeling his claws pick against the skin of his palms. His parents hadn't even seen his first flight... and now they never will.

The man pressed his wings tighter against his body; he was uncomfortable, unsure, and way out of his depth. That was... suspicious... shouldn't social workers try to calm children rather than agitate them further? This one didn't seem trained, either.

"What will happen to me, Mister?" Tim asked, hitching his wings up and drawing in his shoulders to appear smaller. The falcon tilted his head down and forced his eyes to water before gazing up at the man through lashes that glimmered with tears. Tim was smaller than most other kids his age; he would use that to his advantage.

The man's feathers bristled, and he took a half-step back. Tim pushed out a pathetic-sounding chirp. He remembers his mother's lessons on the intricacies of body language, and Tim will not allow himself to forget.

Tim chirped again. From how he reacted, the man seemed familiar with the chicklet calls, so he could've been a father, teacher, or just someone around kids enough to be swayed by a random kid's chirps.

To really sell the "hapless, pathetic, hopeless chick act," Tim sniffed and allowed the beginnings of pitiful sobs to fall from his lips.

"You know what, fuck this!" the man shouted before turning tail and striding down the stairs. Once he was out of sight, Tim sobered and wiped the tears from his cheeks, uncertainty brewing in his chest.

The falcon relaxed his wings and draped them over his shoulder like a cape. He struggled to open the door, but Tim eventually struggled his way in. With a deep breath, Tim steeled himself, grabbed his mother's conditioner, and shuffled into his parents' bathroom.

As the days blinked past, Tim noticed his appetite waning. Mrs. Mac, the heron house-keeper, had stopped coming over after Tim had told her about his parents' death. She'd said something about not working if she wasn't paid, and then she'd hung up.

He was sitting at the base of his parent's Alaskan king bed, the one they've barely used, his hands gently running through his plumage before plucking out some feathers. Tim sees the blood rush from where the sensitive, newly-grown feather was yanked. The blood joined the other trails and pooled onto the floor. He released the feather in his hand and watched it gently drift to join the other gray-black fluff on the hardwood floor.

Tim reached for another clump of feathers, only to have the action interrupted by a hand that eclipsed his own. The hand gently pushed Tim's bloodied hands away from his wings, and he couldn't find the energy to resist. A soothing croon and low churring rumbled through Tim's chest and settled a roiling feeling he didn't know he had. The fledgling answered with a weak chirp, and Tim was swept into someone's arms. The low vibration continued to rumble through his chest, and Tim allowed his eyes to slip shut and his body to fall boneless.

("-long has been there? He's practically skin and bones!"

"They've been dead for at least a week now... He's seven."

"Can't we just hand him to the social services?"

"Damian..."

"Fine!")

When Tim wakes up, he is somewhere different. His wings felt stiff like they were covered or wrapped with something. He opened his eyes, and his theory was confirmed. White bandages made specifically for wings were applied to the patches of missing feathers, and a glance around the room confirmed that he was somewhere completely foreign.

With a twist of his lip, Tim forced his wings shut, ignoring the protesting pain of the bandages tugging against his feathers before shoving himself against the corner. The wall was cool against his skin, and Tim twisted onto his stomach and wedged himself farther into the corner.

A few minutes later, the door to the room creaked open, washing the box with warm light.

"Master Timothy, are you awake?" a British voice asked.

Tim didn't respond.

The door closed, and the light vanished.

Not even fifteen seconds later, the door opened again, and someone entered. Their footsteps were solid against the wooden floor. Tim didn't bother with looking up.

"Hey," Bruce Wayne said in a low yet gentle voice. The bed shifted under the man's weight, "I know you're awake."

No response.

"Damian used to do the same thing, you know," Bruce said, his tone light and careful, "he'd pretend that he was asleep so he wouldn't have to get up for school. He was close to his mother, and when he moved in with me, Damian had a rough time being away from her."

The silence was filled only by their soft breaths.

"When was the last time you've eaten?" Bruce Wayne asked.

Tim did not respond.

"...Is it alright if I touch you?"

The fledgling did not respond. Timothy was small, especially for a fledgling, and Bruce found it difficult not to sweep him under his wing.

The harpy eagle carefully kept his claws tucked against his palms before gently lifting Tim from the corner he'd wedged into. After a few seconds of deliberate maneuvering, Bruce has Tim slumped against his chest, the fledgling limp and his wings drooping. If it wasn't for his lethargic blinks and barely-there breaths, Bruce would've thought that he'd died.

When he entered the dining room, Damian was sitting at the dinner table with a furious expression as he addressed a blank-faced Alfred.

"Why hasn't Father arrived yet?" Damian demanded, his voice just shy of a growl.

"Master Bruce had something he needed to see to," Alfred responded, "he will join you shortly, Master Damian; patience is a virtue."

Damian seethed, but he'd learned better than to disobey the barn owl. Bruce grunted a greeting as he sat beside Alfred's spot and directly in front of Damian. But as he sat Tim on the chair to his left, Damian caught Bruce's eye with a furious expression.

"Why is he here? Damian hissed, eyes narrowed as Alfred returned with plates of food.

Bruce gave a weary exhale. The noise wasn't quite a sigh, but it was just about. "Damian..."

"I do not wish to be replaced by a catatonic- rat!" his son spat, pushing back the chair with the harsh sound of wood scraping against wood as he leaped to his feet. The fledgling flared open his wings and slammed his palms on the table, causing the dishes to rattle and shake dangerously.

"Son-"

"You obviously don't view me as your son," Damian sneered, eyeing Tim with a positively venomous expression.

Bruce held back a frustrated hiss. Damian's mule-headedness was undoubtedly Talia's fault. No way in hell was Bruce this stubborn when he was a teenager. "Damian, you are not being replaced."

"Then what in the world do you call this?" Damian jabbed a finger in Tim's direction.

Alfred, unbothered, made a crooning noise at Tim, and the fledgling began to mechanically start gently sipping at the soup the butler had made.

""This,"" Bruce returned, "is a fledgling who'd lost his parents and was almost kidnapped. Damian, you are being unreasonable-"

His son snapped his wings shut, his feathers bristling in an offended fashion, "Then why haven't you snatched up the other children who have lost their parents? Answer that, Father. There are other younger chicks on the streets of Gotham, yet I don't see them bounding around right now!"

"Timothy doesn't have a next-of-kin, and he was plucking," Bruce was fighting desperately not to raise his voice at Damian. From experience, it was only going to make him fight harder. Talia was the exact same...

"And that hardly narrows down the other children on the streets of Gotham! What makes him so different that you resorted to bringing an outsider into OUR HOME!" Damian borderline screamed before his voice dropped to a whispered hiss, "Mother would disapprove."

Bruce bit back the retort that clung to the tip of his tongue. He decidedly didn't say, "Then good thing she's not here"; "She's never not disapproving something or another"; "What's one more tick against my record"; "This manor is owned by Bruce Wayne, not Talia Al Ghul"; and the countless other responses that would be inappropriate for this situation.

But what he does say, in retrospect, probably should've stayed unsaid as well.

"Don't bring Talia into this."

The two harpy eagles stared off in a silent battle of wills that ended in a draw when Tim slowly blinked himself into reality. His breathing shifted slightly, and his gauze-covered wings tucked closer to his back.

"Of course, you'd say that," Damian's voice dropped to a low growl, "you never did care for Mother, did you?"

"Damian!" Bruce snapped, his hands clenching on the table.

"You never wanted me- don't you dare deny it! You are seeking to replace me!" Damian spat, his claws digging into the wood of the vintage table. Alfred made a disapproving trill, and the fledgling instantly released his grip.

"If you'd just listen to me," Bruce grounded out, but Damian steamrolled over him.

"There is nothing to listen to, Father. You've made your stance clear as-"

"You're acting like a child," Tim huffed, staring into Damian's eyes with no shortage of defiance. The fledgling's wings were eerily still and unexpressive. Although it was relieving to see Timothy out of his depressive state, Bruce only wished it had happened while Damian wasn’t in one of his, to put it lightly, moods.

"Excuse me?" Damian growled, his tone dangerously still. Unlike many other people, Damian had zero reservations about harming a younger person.

Tim's hands clenched slightly before relaxing, but his expression remained bored and lax. Where did their son know how to mask so well? It was... concerning.

"You complain about Bruce not caring for you, but he still took you in even though Talia left you at his doorstep. If he didn't want you or didn't care for you, he would've placed you somewhere else, or he could've also handed you back to Talia."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Damian hissed. Bruce stood up to try and defuse the situation.

"You don't either!" Tim hissed, but it lacked the threatening rattle that someone truly enraged would possess, "You're entitled, conceited, and you can't see beyond your over-inflated ego!"

Damian flared his wings and pounced across the table. Bruce cursed under his breath as he lunged forward, crashing into his son in a whirlwind of wings and thrashing feathers. Damian bit into Bruce's forearm, and he frowned as his son's needle-like fangs ripped into his skin and his atavistic claw slashed inches away from Bruce's neck.

Alfred had grabbed Tim and swept the fledgling away to someplace more secure, and Bruce wrestled Damian off the table and onto the floor.

"DAMIAN!" Bruce shouted, frustration dripping off every word, "We do not. Hurt. Chicks."

"THEN WHY ARE YOU HURTING ME?!" Damian screamed, and Bruce instinctively lightened his grasp on Damian's limbs.

His son took that chance and twisted in Bruce's grasp, thrashing his wings to loosen Bruce's grip before lunging for his throat. Bruce ducked before pinning Damian against the ground, a firm grip on the back of the fledgling's neck and his wings forced against the ground.

Bruce narrowed his eyes, waiting for Damian to stop thrashing before speaking, "Tonight, Batman will be going out alone."

Damian froze.

"You can't do that!" he protested. Anger blazed brightly in his eyes as his thrashing continued. "You- You can't bench me! You need me- Father! Father, please! Batman needs- he needs Shadow! You need-"

"You need to go to your room," Bruce interrupted. "Batman did fine in his years before Shadow arrived, so I don't see why Batman can't go back out on his own."

Damian opened his mouth, probably to argue some more, but Bruce cut him off with a growl, "I will allow you back out when you learn how to behave yourself. I am disappointed, Damian. You should know better."

#tim drake #batman #fanfic #batfamily #bruce wayne #damian wayne #reverse robins #wing fic #world building #batfam #feral damian #angry damian wayne #canon?#who’s canon? Idk a canon #they’ll get along….#eventually #Fic: to brace upon benign feathers

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witchofthesouls · 2 years

Text

So, imagine the TFP kids gang got hit by Ancient Cybertronian do-hickey over a sleepover and cyberform into sparklings (I will forever die on the Hill that cyberformed humans are some form of war-builds. You can’t take that me. At all.), and then combine it with memory regression/suppression and oh boy, oh boy, what a mess.

The kids are absolutely cute and 100% goddamn Feral.

When Optimus finally manages to decode the information in regards that the artifact’s power: a vague recollection of to revert/return what was lost he agreed with the team: Unicron’s bullscrap.

Miko is a smoll Seeker sparkling with pretty amber optics, a worrisome amount of pink upon her thin frame, and has no idea who they are. She managed to squeeze behind the monitors and climb up the computer set up for high-ground. Has sharp teeth and equally sharp little claws. And yes, she had used both sets on an Autobot’s hands. Hissy little thing.

She mainly listens to Optimus ever since he managed to snatch her up by the scruff and growled back at her, he put some force into it with his engines in low-gear with his field pressing down, enough to overwhelm her for a beat. The team is yelling at him while Miko stares at him with wide optics and limp like a docile kitten.

Ratchet fusses over her since Seekerkin femmes are usually larger and bulkier than their mech counterparts, even as sparklings. Miko, however, is on the thinner side, especially since it looks like she’s missing plating. She’s not; her armature will be deceptively fragile, but very flexible.

Everyone keeps a really good optic on her since that much pink on a mecha’s plating as their original color meant… issues. Ratchet keeps checking on her since her pain receptors are too scattered to stop her from really dangerous stunts.

Mainly communicates likes a newspark. Squeaks and chirps. Very expressive wings.

They thought Jack would be the “easy” one since he was once a Responsible Teenager, had actually retained a few memories about his life Before, and can actually communicate in English. They’re wrong. Dead. Wrong.

Local Metal Bird Boy can be found scurrying up the walls and hooking his newfound claws into crevices and digging because he found something behind the walls or beneath the rocks.

Jack looks built to be an armored jet. At first glance. This bitlet seems to have hints of developing multiple forms. Ratchet had uncovered sets of wheels and had to disable some of his programs related to combat that are too close to the surface. He was worried that it may activate and there’s no need for a sparkling to run around with high-beam plasma.

Has a habit of sneaking up on others, especially on Optimus, Ratchet, and Arcee. It’s possible since Jack has impressive shielding and suppression abilities due to his advanced ventilation systems and military-grade silencers.

Likes watching the ‘bots sleep, the low hum of their frames with relaxed sparks is a soothing sound to him, especially with each ‘bot has a unique pattern and feel to their EM field. Many times, they had been startled awake to see grey-blue optics watching from above.

He’s ridiculously good at hide-and-seek.

Raf is the Baby. As in he’s a baby Predacon. Like the rolliest and roundest one. Absolute chonk of a pup. He’s a metal, yellow and orange potato that likes to be carted around like a football.

Refuses to budge out of his alt-mode for anything. Eats, sleeps, and plays as a small, metal dragon. Enjoys being tucked up on a chassis and having his neck scratched.

Blind as a bat. There’s film over his optics. It doesn’t seem to be newspark-thickness, but Ratchet has no idea and can only work with what he knows about sparkling care with the present frame-types. Predacons, however, had been extinct, but it shouldn’t be too different. Hopefully.

The Autobots can’t leave anything on the ground or Raf will attempt to stuff it in his mouth. With surprisingly, if varying, levels of success. Horrifies them that he can actually eat rocks and metal ore without getting sick. If left unattended, then he will try to nibble on live wires and will gnaw on weapons.

Very limited communication. Much like Miko, he barks, chirps, and squeaks. It’s a strange scene to watch Miko and Raf making a racket as Jack is quite still and nods or frowns with their conversation. Optimus can actually follow their proto-language quite well. Bumblebee was disappointed that none of them can understand his binary.

They collectively give thanks to whatever deity watching them that the kids’ have functional EM fields. It’s the most straight-forward, direct form of nonverbal communication. Raf and Miko are very expressful and demand to be heard. Jack, on the other hand, tends to be more quiet and subdued. More like an undercurrent that slips into their own without notice until he tugs them, burning with questioning/inquisitive and curiosity.

Miko and Jack are completely delighted when Raf figures out to puff out small bits of flame. And yes, they do bring Raf flammable things to play with. They tickle his softer underbelly to get him to snort and hiccup bits of fire. They like drawing on the walls and floors with their bits of charcoal and piles of ash.

It seems to be a universal rule that younglings of any species can always find a way to get filthy in a short amount of time. Between Raf’s constant rolling and rummaging for rocks and Miko’s and Jack’s urges to climb all over the place, all three get dusty and crusty. Especially when they dig into the sand and dirt.

It becomes a daily duty to get those three clean. Raf has a dedicated, makeshift bowl of a bathtub where Jack and Miko can join the showers.

It’s a two-mecha job. One to focus on Raf and watch the doorway and floor. (Raf can and will attempt to eat the towels, cleansers, and buffing equipment.) One to scrub Jack and Miko’s backs, particular their developing flight systems, and coax Miko into drying off because she will refuse to leave the shower.

They get a kiddie pool in the middle of the base, well away from equipment, and it’s the greatest thing ever: Occupies the kids for long periods of time, especially with some toys.

Ratchet actually complimented Agent Fowler’s recommendation, and man had side-eyed the mech for the entire visit.

Jack and Miko managed to lure in an injured cougar into the base. They hid it in the back, well away from everyone else, and tagged team on its caring and feeding schedule since Jack would tell any adult that they were playing hide-and-seek.

No one figured out what was wrong since Jack has a habit of suppressing his own EM field, and figured out how to mask Miko whenever they snuck out the base to hunt animals.

Bulkhead realized something was up when the kiddie pool was quite bloody one day when he was cleaning up a messy Raf that escaped the playpen. Again. The towels were stained red.

The sheer amount of screaming and tears it caused when the Autobots relocated the cougar to a sanctuary.

Optimus is truly a leader when he was able to withstand their sad, wilting wings, shiny and wet optics, and wails.

He does hold them in his lap as they pick out a wildlife sanctuary, and Ratchet hooks up the TV to view the public camera of the animals, so they could watch Nightstrike.

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batwritings · 6 months

Note

So sorry for all the system questions, but is bat the primary user on this account while others have just like a surprise guest feature on it, or do you share the account?

bat is the primary user, yes. we (mainly meaning myself and schlatt, haha) aid where we can, but usually bat handles everything. :)

we appreciate the questions actually. while bat's tumblr isn't system related, we're more than happy to answer questions here or elsewhere. we're not shy about our diagnosis nor are we going to hide who we are as a system.

~lyn

#bat's system squeaks #anon response

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starscatteredsky · 7 months

Note

If you haven’t yet already, tips for bats? :)

tips for bats

pt: tips for bats

practice squeaking vocals!

eat lots of fruit if you’re a fruit bat!

arm flapping stims!!

make/commission a therian mask

hold a blanket/towel/etc with each of your hands, spread across your back, to feel like your wings instead of arms!

collect bat jewelry, clothes, trinkets, plushes, fidgets, etc! it’s a perfect time of year to find all sorts of spooky bat stuff :D

decorate your living space with cool rocks, crystals, atmospheric lighting, cave ambience, dark drapes/blinds to keep out unwanted light, etc! make it feel like a homey cave!

wear dark clothing and baggy “winglike” hoodies/shirts!

get some vampire fangs from your local halloween shop/section to wear to feel like your own fangs!! there’s plenty of different types this time of year, so you can likely find something that works for any sensory needs you have!

try hanging upside down by your knees in a tree or some other place! (be safe!)

try staying up at night and resting during the day, or appreciate the night in other ways if you don’t want to mess with your sleep schedule!

have fun!! one of our mods actually started questioning if they’re a batkin because of writing this post, so thank you haha :D -👾

Requests open!!!

[image description:

a DNI banner with the background being the promotional image for Little Nightmares 2. The writing reads:

"DNI: radqueers, proshippers, radfems/TERFs, antikin/antitherian, homophobic/ ableist/ anti ACAB/ transphobic/ rasist/ antisemitic/ xenophobic/ antitheist/ anti athiest/ bigoted in any fashion, NSFW/sh/ed/cringe centered blog, fakeclaimer

Before you interact: We are pro mspec gays/lesbians, anti endo/tulpa "systems", enjoy MCYT/DSMP, pro self diagnoses with extensive research, multiple alters are punks/ anarchists"

end description]

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magnoliabutters · 7 months

Text

HOW ABOUT THAT WINE?

pairing: garrus "archangel" vakarian x fem!shepard

inspiration: @chestharrington’s lazy ghoul's kinktober → week one: love making

warnings: 18+ content, mdni; mass effect 2 spoilers & references, dorky fluff, dom smut vibes, lovey dovey, p in v, cunnalingus, human anatomy, etc.

word count: ~3.4k

note: it is the beginning of kinktober, y'all! straight from a writing hiatus and right into some alien (*cough* turian) smut. let's get freaky kinky dinky babes...

You're crazy about him. Abundantly crazy. There isn't a minute - no, a second that goes by where his name isn't scribbled all over your mind. The way he makes you feel, god. It's almost like he doesn't even know what power he holds over you.

You thought a shower might help clear your mind, but it only gave you a room filled with steam and thoughts. You are already red hot, pink in the cheeks from just saying good night after your last mission. He shot you a smile and you instantly turned into an absolute puddle. Does he even know the power he holds over you?

Garrus Vakarian is all you can think about - clothed, armored, naked. Nothing else matters.

And yet, some how - some way, this man has no idea what he does to you. He walks around the Normandy without a single care in the world. Not knowing in the slightest how quick you'd drop to your knees, begging him to carry you up to your cabin and fuck you better than you've ever had.

For now, there's only simple greetings and salutations. Professionalism at its max, seeing as you are his superior. God, you could hear Alliance HR calling after your last conversation with Garrus.

All that talk about how turians like to release some stress after harrowing missions... Now, after every mission, you bite your tongue until you can scream into your pillow.

Brushing your hair back, you let the warm water sink into your scalp. You hope - no, pray that these feelings go away. At least until the squad gets through the Omega-4 Relay, if we make it back.

The pipes squeak as you hastily turn off the water. You throw the towel over your body, soaking up all the moisture from your slick skin. Another towel to your face as you reach the corners of your eyes and rub the texture against the tops of your cheeks. Your hair is still wet as you tie it into a loose bun. Strands fall without any distinct pattern around your head.

One last wrap around your body, and you make your way back into the cabin. As you turn the corner, you catch a glimpse of the sweetest, most delicate man wearing his nicest blues and with wine in hand.

"Hey," he says with that dark melodic voice.

Your jaw slightly drops. Your brows raise and lips quiver as you stand before him in your white towel. His eyes stray to your chest, down your stomach and to the tops of your thighs. "I - I'm sorry, you need to get dressed."

Garrus turns to walk out the door, but a hand at his shoulder stops him. "What do you have there, soldier?" you ask with a bit of tease. You could care less about getting dressed. Hell, the quicker you get this towel off the better.

"I brought wine," he answers nervously. "Best I could afford on a vigilante's salary."

Your cheeks perk into a smile as happy little butterflies fill your chest. Eyes upon him, begging for him to ravish you right here - right now. Push you up against the desk and fuck you until you both pass out.

Alas, those seductress eyes fill him with worry. Garrus rushes towards the sound system. His finger furiously tapping against the holo until a fast-tempo, bass rattles your ribcage.

With hopeful brows raised to the heavens, you watch as he timidly sways to the beat. Your heart calls for him. Your sweet, little nerdy boy. How he ever got anyone before you is beyond you, but - hell, he'll never have anyone else after you.

You waltz over him with seductive movements in your steps. Your tongue runs over the smooth of your lips. Your lashes bat his way, forcing his grip to tighten at the bottle's neck. Your smile gentle and inviting, wanting nothing more than his hands upon your body.

"If you were a turian, I'd be complimenting your waist or your fringe," Garrus states, trying his hardest not to be overwhelmed by your sexuality. His head is down with eyes watching his stimming fingers. "So...," he takes a deep breath before slowly raking up your body. "Your, uh, hair looks good. And your waist is very supportive."

You giggle with a hand planted at your hip. Everything he does, everything he says fuels that fire in your stomach. The need - the desire to feel his touch. God, you wish you could find some excuse for accidentally dropping your towel, but no. It would be much much better if he was the one pulling it off you.

With silence being too much for him to bear, Garrus carries on, "Hopefully that's not offensive in human culture." He takes a deep sigh, realizing he is still too formal. "Crap, I should've watched the vids Mordin sent." Spouting off facts like this, you and him, was some kind of science experiment - interspecies intercourse.

Recognizing the face of self-deprecating thoughts, you raise your hand and land it against his shoulder. "Whoa! Consider me seduced, smooth talker." You pull yourself closer into him. He peers down at your face, taking shivering breaths at your proximity. "Now shut up and stop worrying."

You squeeze his shoulder before trailing your palm across his chest. You walk over to the sound system and turn down the blaring noise. All you want to hear is him. All you want to see is him. You lean back against the wall, kicking your foot up as you shoot him your shining smile.

But something troubles him.

Garrus' head falls once again. He doesn't close the space between you two like you had thought. His words soft and sincere. "I just... I've seen so many things go wrong, Shepard. My work C-Sec, what happened with Sidonis..."

You push off the wall. Your hand falls at his scarred cheek. The silly boy thinks his wound is what got you interested, when you would have easily been in his bed back when they were dealing with Sovereign.

"I want something to go right, just once."

His ocean eyes raise to yours. They are humble, gentle, and vulnerable. It almost aches your heart. The way they peer into you - hell, like he's peering into your soul. Muscles in your face soften as you let him in. Let everything in.

This isn't just a fling. This isn't just because you're able to go on a suicide mission. No, you found something that you've never had before. You both found something within each other. You didn't understand what it meant to have a bondmate until this moment, until looking into these eyes.

You love him, more than you've loved anything or anyone in your life.

Almost as though he was drawing you in, you and Garrus both lean in with foreheads pressed against each other. Soft and powerful. You feel that fire reignite deeper within you.

You can feel the heat resonating off his chest as he pulls you in closer. His hands slowly guide your own back to your sides. With a single finger, he tilts your chin up to look at him. Your lips part as all the breath escapes you.

Garrus' eyes look at all features of your face, bouncing back and forth until they land on your lips. His hand finds its way at the base of your skull. He pulls you in with a force you did not expect.

His lips press against yours, firm and tight. Your hands fall into the concave of his lower back, pulling him into you. As his fingers dig into your hair, you can feel his lips begin to relax. They become pliable and gentle.

You brush your tongue against his mouth, begging for more. Garrus is more than happy to oblige as he slightly parts his lips and digs his hips against your stomach. Your tongue is deep within, crashing against his own as your hands drag him back against your chin and nose. You've been waiting for this moment for quite some time and, now, he knows it.

Your passion for Garrus is not just chance. Not just a simple sexy scar on the right of his face. No, you wanted him. You wanted to devour him, and he is more than happy to oblige.

Arms rush to wrap around his neck, forcing your towel to crash at your tip-toed feet. Eyes closed and breathing hitched. Your tongue massages against his, causing little moans to float between you both.

Garrus' hands explore your freshly exposed body. They are firm as they discover the curves of your bodice and waist. He staggers, guiding you back against the wall. You gasp at the cold sensation, but he didn't care. His hand digs under your right thigh, pulling your bent leg up to his waist.

His tongue slides across your lips. You push against him, practically biting into his kiss. Lips red and bruised and you still crush them upon him. This is all you have wanted, whether knowing it or not, since you met him. Hell if you're going to hold back.

And yet, Garrus picks you up. His hands secure your legs around his waist as he walks down the steps to your bedroom. His eyes still closed, but he navigates through the space flawlessly. His hands grip tightly onto your ass, pinching with excitement.

He places you down upon your mattress with a mixture of dominance and pleasure. You pull your wet hair out of its bun before resting on your back. He sinks to his knees between your legs with hands trailing up your thighs.

Garrus rakes over you. Those same very eyes bouncing left to right, up and down. There's so much to look at, so much to enjoy - so much to love. He decides to start at your thighs with determination. His kisses cause your heart to pound. Sweet, little pecks that prickle your skin. You struggle to keep your thighs from closing upon him.

As he presses his soft mouth against you, he breathes you in. "You are so beautiful, Shepard," he purrs with a vibration to his chest. "Your waist..." His hands find their way back to your hip bones. He rubs against them as he grinds into the side of the mattress. "Your hair," he mewls as he plays with a long strand resting just above your left breast.

"God, Garrus," you whimper at his touch. Your hips rut against his chest. Your clit craving sensation, craving him.

A sharp smirk forms across his face. "Say it again, I like it."

With a laugh, you prop yourself onto your elbows. You try to look at him but are stuck in a haze as he circles the space where your hips and thighs meet. A deep breath and you plead, "Garrus, I need you."

He growls as the other side of his smile perks up. His kisses become bites that travel down your inner thighs. You try to curl in to yourself, but he holds you down, showing you exactly who is in charge in this part of the Normandy.

His tongue lathers up your thigh, finding itself at the tip of your slit. Your breath hitches every so often, floating on the edge of overstimulation. His hands dig into the meat of your thighs, leaving little crescent shaped indents into your reddening skin.

Your hands crash into your hair as Garrus' tongue parts your lips. His thickness lathers up your juices as he guides you down to your ass. "Oh god," you cry out. He groans, growls into you. Any sound you make fuels the raging thrusts forming a hole into the side of your bed.

His finger curls around to lightly flick your bean. His tongue doused with your love and, fuck, did he love every single drop of you. The way your musical moans floated in the air forces something dark to emerge within him. Something primitive and degenerate.

The things he would love to do to you...

Garrus flicks his tongue in a way that makes your head spin. Your chin is up to the sky and your eyes are squeezed shut. Your fingers are tangled in your hair and your hips are pressed firmly against his wet chin.

Only briefly do both your eyes meet during the act. Those sparkling eyes highlighted by thick navied tattoos across his nose and cheekbones. All you want to do is ride that face. Ride that serene, tender face until you explode.

His thick tongue laps against you. A hand rushes to your breast with fingers tightly clasping your hardened nipple. The pinching sensation creates a light-headedness that holds your eyes closed. Your moans can surely be heard throughout the cabin but you couldn't care in the slightest.

"Jesus, fuck," you choke out. "Oh, shit - right there, right there."

Garrus hums, sending another pleasant vibration across the sheets. He utters, proud of himself, "Seems like those vids really helped-"

"Vakarian! Stop talking!"

You push his head down onto you, sliding his tongue further inside. Your entire body feels like pins and needles. Sounds you don't recognize fall from your lips. The pleasure intense. Time slows as you feel your body tighten around him. Your lashes flutter, only showing the smallest glimpses of the lit room.

Garrus delves his firm tongue in. He tries his best not to rip into your skin, not knowing what might hurt and what might feel good. If he trusted his instincts, he would be balls deep within you - thrusting until there was nothing else left for him to give. He always thought he wanted an honorable death by combat. Fuck that, he wants to die in a concussive blast of two bondmates cumming as one.

Fire begins to pool at your abdomen. Your heart races in ways that leave you seeing stars. Your body becomes jagged, happily enduring his powerful thrusts as the rubber band gradually begins to pop.

"Garrus, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," your mewling voice grows higher and higher in pitch.

Upon feeling your walls cave around his tongue in pulsating bursts, Garrus chuckles softly. His pink, fleshly tongue still thick and firm within you. His hands gentle as one softly circles your nipple and the other circles your protruding hip bones.

"Mmm'Shepard," he mewls as he licks his lips.

You struggle to control your heaving breath as jolts of pleasure disperse across your body. Garrus rips his shirt off of him, pulling the cloth over him with one hand. He begins to crawl over you with something firm and pointed traveling across your skin. His own breathing hitched as he crashes a hand beside your head.

You open your eyes to his sweet, endearing smile. His hand warmly pressed against the side of your face. A finger brushes across your cheek bones. His touch gentle as you pant your way back to baseline. His cock hot and hard as it rests against your thigh.

"Ready for more, Commander?"

"Yes, Archangel," you whisper tenderly.

With those two words, Garrus' breath hitches and a voice whimpers out. He leans into you, hovering his lips just above you. You crave him. You feel the static thick in the air between you.

Finally, he caves and drops his loving lips against you. His tongue, your new favorite thing, runs over your lips lightly tracing where they part. He slicks them over, just before you suck in his bottom lip. Your teeth slightly dig into his flesh as you pull him back towards him.

Garrus growls as a slow smirk sprawls across his face. He looks down, only to guide himself at your entrance. The tip barely brushes against your flower and your entire body fills with electricity. He sinks himself into you with one fallen swoop. His girth perfectly filling all the bumps, crooks, and crannies. It forces your jaw to drop as he places caressing pecks upon your cheek.

He pulls back, simply to see himself appear and disappear within you. His breath halts as he furrows his brows. You are tight, tighter than he has ever had. Part of him is holding on by a damn thread, trying not to bust upon first contact. The other part of him is hell bent on feeling your walls convulse around his pecker, squeezing the cum out of him and filling you up.

You hold back winces at the feel of his cock. He is much bigger than you're used to, much bigger than you expected. You widen your legs for him, begging for him to bury himself within you. Your lashes flutter once again as you melt into his touch.

His thrusts are slow at first. His hand traveling from your hair, cheek, neck, breast, and hip in soft, sullen motions. His heart races as he watches your eyes lighten up with each bottoming thrust. He can feel the coil within him tightening and tightening.

Garrus never knew what love was until he saw your face. He never knew what primal attraction was until now.

Gradually, his thrusts become more powerful. His hips digging in deeper and harder. His kisses expand from your neck to your tits. Love bites firm against your clavicle. He loves to hear you gasp, to feel you clench around him. Your hand tightening its grip around his waist.

He sets his pace - firm, solid, and hard. The sight of your breasts bouncing due to his thrusts forces trails of fire to form across his body. He clenches his thighs, working hard to maintain his speed and rhythm.

Words begin to babble from your lips as the endorphins fill your circuiting brain. Your whole body falls limp as it jolts with each of this pounding ruts. Knees begin to buckle and you can feel yourself tightening up. Your legs wrap around him, pulling him closer and closer for all of eternity.

Huffing, Garrus' movements become more jagged. His breath heavy as he presses his forehead into yours. His lips hang just above yours, brushing against them with each push. He breathes you in, wanting nothing more but to inhale everything that you are.

He bites back a moan as his hips fall out of synchronicity. He tries hard, desperately hard to maintain his rhythm but you can feel him twitching. You can feel his throbbing cock wanting nothing more than a release.

You push back against him, digging your hips against his. With a swift motion, he falls onto his back sending a rippling effect across the mattress. His eyes widen as you sink onto his cock.

Struggling to keep his eyes open, Garrus watches as you effortlessly take him in. His breath hitches as your lips part, gasping ever so lightly with each rut of your hips. Your nails dig into his chest, forming a painful yet orgasmic feeling.

His hands fall at your waist, digging in and holding you in place. Never letting go. His own hips grinding against your warmth.

“Shepard, fuck, if you keep doing that, I’m not gonna be able to-”

“Able to what, Vakarian,” you say breathlessly. Your hips dig a bit deeper, grind a bit harder. His brows furrow and his mouth opens. His body shakes, trembling by your movements.

“Oh fuck,” Garrus mewls.

“It feels soo good,” you whimper.

“Oh god, Commander. Oh god.”

“Cum for me, Garrus. Cum inside me! I need it!”

“Fuuuucccckkkkk…”

With a growl, Garrus floods your system with his seed. The very sight of his body trembling beneath you. His thrusts like firm, bursting staccatos. The flick of his head bounces against your g-spot. Your own body shivers with pleasure.

You both ride out your highs, still grinding into each other. Garrus sits up, pulling your chest tight against his own. His breath hot and harsh into the nape of your neck. Your hand hooks at the base of his head, holding him lightly in place.

Hips still jagged as they move. His arms wrap around your waist, forming a tight hold that bounces love between you both. Breath whimpering upon each other’s lips. He presses his nose against your cheek, nuzzling this way to your own. His skin sweaty and warm against your forehead.

“I love you, Garrus Vakarian,” you whisper softly upon his lips.

“I’ll never tire of hearing that.”

“I’ll never be tired of saying it.”

“You are beautiful, absolutely the most beautiful of all the galaxy,” he coos before lightly rubbing his nose against yours.

A soft kiss forces both your eyes to close. Your legs wrap around his back as you rest your weight on his lap. “How about that wine?” you tease before landing another peck on his cheek.

Garrus’ brows jump as that smooth talking smirk shines from left to right. “It’s red… like the blood of our enemies.” He playfully bites into your neck, forcing a squeal you didn’t foresee. “Well, some of our enemies.”

“Okay, calm down, mister vigilante,” you chuckle to yourself.

“Never,” he says before nipping at your neck again. A bustle filled with giggles to end an night you’ll never forget.

note: if you love mass effect & garrus, come back and visit me on N7 day 🩵💙🩵 i has surprise for yous; beginning dialogue & scene are as close to the mass effect 2 romance cutscene before jumping off the ledge into creative shhmut

coming up next sunday → week two: sex toys with ssa aaron hotchner

kinktober taglist? 🎃

✷ kinktober2023 masterlist ✷ navigation ✷ impromptu prompts ✷

thank you for my beta reading bestie, @nackrosor

#garrus vakarian #mass effect garrus #mass effect #shakarian #Shepard x garrus #femshep #commander shepard #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #mass effect 2 #LazyGhoulsKinktober2023

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innytoes · 2 months

Note

57 for Willex + Lancelot

Of course this is set in the Care and Feeding of Dragons verse.

"Morning, Dad!" Willie called, all but skipping into the kitchen. His dad was sitting at the kitchen island nursing a coffee, glaring at him blearily. He'd never really gotten used to the fact that no matter what time Willie got up, he was go-go-go. It was still just as funny now as it was when he was a kid. He started grabbing stuff from around the kitchen, maybe making a little more noise than necessary.

"What's wrong with cereal?" Dad complained, as he started measuring out flour.

"Alex is coming over for breakfast today," Willie told him. "So I'm making pancakes."

"Is he now?" Dad asked, before leaning over to give him sad puppy eyes. "What about your beloved father? Does he get pancakes?"

"What's wrong with cereal?" Willie snarked back, laughing when Caleb threw him a glare. "I'll make you pancakes if you promise to leave us alone to eat ours."

"Oh yes, I wouldn't want to interrupt your romantic date," Dad said. "You can have the dining room all to yourselves. I'll stay in here, with the coffee maker."

"Deal," Willie agreed. He went on to make the pancakes, loudly mixing (in the metal bowl for maximum noise) while Dad sipped his coffee. He was just pouring the first pancakes out on the griddle when the doorbell rang.

Just as planned.

Listen, it wasn't Willie's fault that Dad hadn't caught on to Alex living with them yet. Alex was too worried that Dad would say no and kick him out, which would mean he'd have to go live in the garage that Sunset Curve rented as a studio. Willie had tried to convince him that Caleb totally wouldn't mind, especially not with Alex' sad 'my parents don't want me back because I'm gay' backstory, but well, the anxiety brain weasels in his head won out.

Also, like, Willie kind of liked the chaos and sneaking around so he didn't push too hard. So every morning Alex would slip out of Willie's window, over the porch roof down one of the fancy support beams and pretend to come over, and every night Willie would say goodbye and then sneak him back in. Or, if Dad was working, just hide him in his room and pretend to be asleep when Dad got home. Or stage it so he'd been alone in the living room all evening.

So maybe he had to make some extra noise to drown out the sounds of Alex climbing down out of his window, with Dad already up. Not exactly a hardship for Willie. He liked being loud.

"I'll get it, don't leave the stove unattended," Dad said, bringing his coffee to the door and greeting Alex. It was always cute, the way Alex still stumbled over 'Caleb, Mister Covington, sir' after how long they'd been dating. Willie grinned, leaning over the island to press a kiss to Alex' cheek as Caleb made him a cappuccino with his fancy coffee maker.

He listened to his boyfriend make awkward small talk with his dad about 'if he got home alright' last night, going from Boring Normal Pancakes to Fun Pancakes with the last of the batter. A bat for Dad. Some (slightly lumpy) drum sticks for Alex. And a skateboard for himself. He placed those on the tops of the three stacks.

"Okay, done!" he said, dumping Dad's plate in front of him before dragging Alex to the dining room with him before he could roll his eyes.

The dining room, which was set up nicely, with a table cloth, the fancy silverware, and a small bouquet of flowers. On the seat opposite to Willie's, there was a fancy-looking box.

"Did I forget an anniversary?" Alex squeaked.

"Not unless I forgot it too," Willie said, going over to the Mysterious Box. It had Alex' name on it. He put down his plate, turning to Alex. "It's for you!"

Alex slowly approached, apprehensively shaking the box a little. It didn't sound like a bomb or anything. "You promise this isn't some kind of prank?"

"Hotdog, I swear it's not. Not from me, anyway." Did Luke and Reggie manage to break into their house? Dad had a great security system. Even though Willie had sometimes felt it was more to keep him In than it was to keep burglars Out. "Open it!"

"Okay," Alex said, putting the box on the table and using a fork to carefully lift the lid off at an arm's length. Willie hid behind him, peering over his shoulder, just in case it was some kind of glitter bomb.

When nothing happened, they moved closer, peering into the box.

Willie gasped. Inside was a soft, perfect, light pink dragon. It was the same one as Lancelot, except not squished and cuddled and spilled jam and glitter and paint on and washed for more than a decade.

"He's perfect," Alex said, gently lifting the dragon out of the box and hugging him close.

"Dude!" Willie said. "There's something on his tail!" He gently undid the ribbon. It was a key. A very familiar looking key.

"Well, if you weren't going to give him one, I thought I would," Dad said. He was standing just outside the dining room, leaning on the door frame, obnoxiously sipping his coffee. Keeping his promise, while still trolling the heck out of them.

"You knew?" Alex said, sounding scared.

"You boys aren't as subtle as you think," Dad said, smirking. "And if Alex is going to be living here, he needs his own stuffed animal."

"That's right," Willie agreed. "We take stuffed animals very seriously in this house."

Alex still looked a bit lost, hugging his dragon close. "You mean I can stay?" he whispered.

"Of course," Dad, coming into the dining room and putting a hand on Alex' shoulder. "You're always welcome here, Alex. How about we discuss the details after your romantic breakfast?" He winked at Willie.

Willie didn't even pretend to be mad, just catching his dad in a hug. "Thanks, Dad." All the sneaking around had been fun, but he'd known it would end up like this anyway. Well, he figured there's be more shouting first, but this was better.

"Wait, if you take stuffed animals so seriously, does that mean your dad has one too?" Alex asked Willie, as Dad retreated to the kitchen.

"Oh yeah, he has a big squishy bat I won for him at the fair when I was eleven," Willie said proudly. It still lived on Dad's fancy armchair in his bedroom.

"I use it to scream my frustrations into when my son does things like sneak his boyfriend in and out of the house for weeks!" Dad called.

"DAD! Stop ruining our romantic breakfast!" Willie called back, and Alex laughed, gently placing his new dragon on the chair next to him.

Yeah, things were going to be fine.

#julie and the phantoms #little dragon willie #willex #fanfic #lancelot the plush dragon #and his new friend #good dad Caleb #Caleb has a big squishmallow bat #you know he got all emotional when Willie used his hard-earned fair tickets on a bat for him #and yes the jellycat plush lancelot is based off also comes in pink #I wrote a thing

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literatureatthebowofnails · 1 year

Text

A/N: ...and we're back. Can't say that took long. Maybe two hours between queuing up the last one and starting this one. My muse is in a needy mood this week.

This drabble is my second addition to the 14 Days of Valentines community project hosted by @muddyorbsblr.

Series masterlist

Pairing: Loki x reader

Summary: So, you met a god at a gala...may the courtship begin

Flurries begin to drift outside, solidifying the promise of a snowy week. At their cue, you exit the cafe to store the patio furniture.

Your three patrons barely notice, absorbed in their phones and newspaper. It's been an especially slow morning, with little distraction from your wandering thoughts.

You wish Wanda would show up. Even if she did, you couldn't bring yourself to tell her what's bugging you, but at least you could vicariously enjoy her love life. 'It's silly, really,' you chide yourself. 'He was just being polite.'

It hasn't kept you from hoping though. From perking up expectantly each time the door chimed. From offering to take Chrysa's shift at the first hint she might not want it. From spending "a tad" more time on your appearance in the mornings.

You shake your head with a scoff as you lock the shed. The thought that an Avenger...a prince...no, a god would be interested in you...'delusions of grandeur is the understatement of the century.'

You take a deep breath and with a shake of your head, return to the warmth of the coffee house.

"Hello darling."

You trip on a chair leg at the sound of his voice, your eyes trailing up to reach the face you'd just pushed from your mind. "Hi," you squeak. "What...ah, what can I get for you?"

Brushing your hands off on your apron, you slide around the counter to face him. Your other patrons remain oblivious. Either they don't recognize the man who'd lead an army through town three years ago, or more likely, hadn't looked up when he entered. The quiet Slavic eatery has two Avengers show in the span of a week and the locals can't be bothered to notice.

Loki studies the pastry display. "Are these the kolaczkis you spoke of?"

"Yes, they are," you try to tamper your enthusiasm, swelling with pride. "I baked them this morning. Would you like one?"

"I would be honored," the sincerity of his tone has your cheeks on fire. "Do you have tea?"

"We do," you carefully plate a particularly well-filled kolaczki. "What's your preferred blend?"

"Earl grey," he replies, but you don't quite catch it. It reaches your ears fine, but your brain is fixated on the way his lips move. The pastry hovers, your hand half extended across the counter. Your mouth moves, caught between responding and preparing to brush against his as your limbic system fires in every direction.

He smirks as he repeats himself and takes the offered plate.

"Sorry, what did you say?" Being this attractive can't possibly be legal, right?

"Right," you nod. "I'll get right on you. On that. On...I'll make your tea." Turning to do so, you continue under your breath. "Pull it together already." You make yourself a fresh cup as well, opting for a chamomile with a prayer that it calms your nerves.

Steaming water fills the cups and you realize the two of you are alone in the cafe. The street outside is hushed and deserted, snow collecting on the windowsills. "Would you do me the pleasure of joining me?" he asks.

"Of course." You take a kolaczki and join him in the cozy booth by the window. You watch, wide eyed as he flavors his tea. You haven't seen anyone, even an unattended child, put that much honey in a drink.

"I must admit, the pastries weren't my primary motivation for coming." He takes a bite. "Though they certainly live up to their reputation.

"I'm here because I wish to court you."

"Court me?" The antiquated phrasing makes you smile as much as the meaning behind it. "So, to clarify, you're asking me on a date?"

"Ah, yes. A date. That's what the Sargent called it. Would you join me for dinner tomorrow evening?"

"Dinner sounds wonderful," your eyelashes bat at the thought. Courtship. Like some Cinderella fantasy. He wishes to 'court' you.

"Excellent," he beams, standing. "Thank you for the tea. I'll pick you up at 7."

You pull out your phone to take his number. There's a notification: "Stark Industries download complete. New contact: Rock of Ages (LL)." You giggle. "Rock of Ages?"

"What?" his confused frown turns to mild irritation. "Stark finds these names amusing."

"Just texted my address. I'll see you tomorrow at 7 then."

"Lovely, darling," he kisses your knuckles. "I'll take my leave. You ought to do the same before the snow gets worse." With that, he's gone.

A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Every note is a compliment of the highest order.

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