#he is barely recognizable lol

[silentdream]

i guess

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Ok, I’m a little confused on how to word this request so bear with me.

Would you be willing to write a short fic about Astarion and The Main Character, sharing a tent at camp because relationship, and the main character giving Astarion a massage because he got hurt in battle, but Astarion starts moaning too loud on purpose, and making the other people at the camp think they are having sex?

I realize how weird and specific this is, but I love the idea of Astarion being an absolute Ham, and making the others uncomfortable XD

(Bonus points if the Main Character plays along)

LOL. Yes, I am willing. CW: Actually not many? Allusions to sex I guess? Maye spoilers to be safe? Brief mention of sadboy back story? This is honestly pretty tame.

~

Astarion wasn't against adventuring. If anything he was a fan, especially when comparing it to his old life. But he was only a fan when it was him doing the bloodshed, not when he was the one being knocked around into walls by massive ogres.

It hadn't been the worst pain he'd ever felt, far from it. But it had been fairly intense. Intense enough for it to take multiple tries for him to get back on his feet. And to have you fawning over him.

"Are you sure you're okay?" You asked as the two of you entered the tent hours later, still hovering behind him, "Is there anything I can do?"

"I'm fine darling," Astarion sighed as he plopped down onto his bedroll, exhausted beyond belief, "Nothing that a good night's sleep can't fix."

The healing from Shadowheart had done wonders, even if his muscles were still screaming at him. He was sore yes, but it really was nothing dire. But that wouldn't stop you from fretting, a fact that Astarion was a fan of.

It was no secret that he liked it when you agonized over his well-being. At first he had been a bit offended at your constant worry, taking it as a lack of belief that he could take care of himself. But then he realized you just... cared. About him of all people. Deeply and intimately, in a way that Astarion had never known, but one he could certainly get used to.

"Want me to have a look?" You asked as you sat next to him, your hands already helping to do the work of taking his armor off, "Maybe a massage?"

"That would be perfect," Astarion sighed, more than happy to let you pamper him. He had been hoping that you would ask that. You did have talented hands, "Thank you darling."

After he was divested of his armor you had him lay on his stomach, his back bare as you straddled his legs. Then you got to work, kneading his sore flesh like a pro. Astarion could feel the tension seeping out of his muscles. You really were so good at this, just one more perk of accidently falling in love with you.

He was moaning before he even knew the sounds were out of his mouth. But he didn't give it much thought, not when he knew you didn't mind. If anything you liked hearing him feel so content, even if he could get a little loud.

"Tch."

Astarion blinked his eyes open at the sound. Was... was that a scoff he heard? Astarion strained his ears, listening out of curiosity as you worked wonders on his back. That was one benefit of being a spawn and elf hybrid, he had vastly superior hearing abilities.

"It's happening again," That was definitely Lae'Zel's voice, the gravely cadence instantly recognizable.

"Oh come on, it's not that bad!" He heard Halsin say quietly, only to be met by collective groaning, "Whiners, the lot of you. I would have expected better from you Karlach."

"All I'm saying is that they could pitch their tent a bit farther away, that's all!" She laughed back at him, "Can't a girl be a little jealous?"

"Or a little annoyed," Shadowheart grumbled.

"Or a lot," Gale agreed, grumbling in that very specific way that made Astarion want to slap the frown off of his face.

Astarion rolled his eyes, finding himself to be a bit annoyed as well. While it was true that the two of you could get... excited, you weren't that bad. And Astarion had made it a point to sneak you far away from camp when he really wanted to have his way with you. What more could they ask for? It just felt like envy at this point, an envy that Astarion was petty enough to resent.

"All I'm saying is if I lose one more wink of sleep because of those two, they're getting a piece of my mind," Gale continued, "I'm sure we all can agree on that."

Oh. Well in that case...

"You're so good at this my sweet," Astarion moaned loudly as you worked over a hard knot in his back, "The best I've ever had."

He could hear more groaning from the peanut gallery, but better yet he could hear the smile in your voice as you quietly answered, "I'm just happy it helps. You're so bruised sweetheart, I'm surprised you're still standing. Your pain tolerance is really something else."

That was unfortunately true, a natural consequence after decades and decades of torture. But at least it served him in his newfound freedom.

"Maybe I just like it when it hurts," Astarion groaned loudly, an obvious lie. Especially to your ears.

It was enough to have your hands pausing on him. You leaned in close, whispering a question in his ear, "Are you doing what I think you're doing?"

"Darling, I'll do anything you want me to do," Astarion murmured, hoping that the ridiculous line would get his point across. And it did, of course it did. No one understood him better than you.

Astarion glanced at you as you leaned back, pleased to see the telling smirk on your face as you got back to work.

"Do you like that baby? Should I go lower?" You asked loudly, biting your lip near the end to keep in a giggle, "Would you like that?"

"Please," Astarion moaned out, only half of the sound faked. You really were just that good at giving massages. And the show you were both putting on was having the desired effect.

"For the love of everything that is holy keep it down!" Gale yelled out into the night, doing nothing more than encouraging Astarion to get even louder, "Perfect darling, right there. Gods, I'm close."

"Mm, flip over. I wanna see your face during," You shot back. Astarion could hear it in your voice, that barely contained laughter. And he wasn't doing much better himself. If anything he was a little surprised the others hadn't caught on yet. Maybe even a little offended. The dirty talk you had together wasn't this bad, a fact that they would know if they had actually ever heard it.

But before Astarion could belt out his big finale, the flap of your tent was being pulled open, Gale's voice yelling into it, "For the love of Mystra would you two shut up- oh my gods. They aren't even naked!"

That was the end of the façade. The two of you burst out laughing, you falling down to Astarion's side as you erupted into a pair of giggling idiots.

Karlach joined Gale at the door to the tent, her voice cracking halfway through on a laugh, "I told you they were hamming it up! Wyll, you owe me ten silver!"

Gale was already turning back, a pout on his lips as he muttered, "You're both lucky it was fake. We were five seconds away from sending Lae'zel in to shut you up."

"The threats aren't going to help my desire to continue fucking with you in the future," Astarion called after him, wiping amused tears from his eyes as they both stepped away. You turned to face him, still giggling up a storm as Astarion wrapped an arm around your wasit.

He kissed your cheek, still grinning ear to ear, "I think it's safe to say that I feel much, much better now."

[reidsaurora]

Hi hi hi I’ll take one leo birthday cake because we are leo baby twins with the prompt “you bought me flowers?” And Spence as a character. But since we are leo babies can I add a sprinkle of enemies to lovers co-workers??

grecy love, i am so so sorry this took so long to post 😭 i had every intention of posting this on your birthday and then writer's block happened and depression happened and health problems happened and it was a whole thing 😭💔 but i hope you enjoyed what i whipped up!! 🫶🏻

"Birthday Bouquet" ~ S. Reid

pairing: autistic!spencer reid x gn!reader

summary: "of two things you were certain: the first, you couldn't stand spencer reid; the second, he was the only person who remembered your birthday."

word count: 1,516

warnings: a lil angsty with a hint of miscommunication trope, mild swearing, i believe that's all!

genre: angst to fluff

extra notes: the end of this was rushed i won't lie, i pray you can all forgive me for that lol; the dividers in this post are from @anlian-aishang as always 🫶🏻

beta read by: @theghouligan and @dungeons-are-too-cold (love you both so so much 🥰)

birthday bash | masterlist | ask box

🧁 Leo Baby Birthday Cake - send me a character + a prompt from this list and i'll write you a blurb!

Of two things you were certain: the first, you couldn't stand Spencer Reid; the second, he was the only person who remembered your birthday.

You tried to cut your colleagues some slack. You were away on a case, after all. Everyone was probably busy dealing with their own shit, not to mention how rough it had been the past 48 hours working on the case. But still, not a single person had so much as wished you a happy birthday, and it wasn't until he caught you alone at the hotel that Spencer said anything.

After a long day of geographical profiling and visiting dump sites, all you wanted was to take a long shower and sleep as much as you could before another long day tomorrow.

At this point, you weren't sure if you even cared about your own birthday anymore. A full night's sleep was the only thing on your birthday wishlist currently. But when you walked into your hotel room and spotted that vase of red and white tulips, your jaw nearly dropped to the floor.

Clearly, someone had remembered, you just weren't sure who. So, naturally, you picked up the card, brows furrowing as you registered the all-too-recognizable chicken scratch handwriting on the back of it.

"These variegated flowers are one in a hundred thousand, but you are the only one of your kind. Happy birthday." - S. R.

Your heart flipped as you processed the words, a happy but surprised tear threatening to fall from your eye.

"Do you normally leave your door open for strangers?"

You turned to face Spencer, his signature sideways smile tugging at his lips. "You bought me flowers?" you asked in shock, your eyes meeting his.

He shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other. "I did," he admitted, eyes darting away shyly, "Happy birthday."

The exhaustion of the day must've had you unsure how to properly respond, because the next thing you knew, you were forcing back tears that were beginning to sting behind your eyes, and motioning him into your room. After he closed the door, you spoke again, your voice barely above a whisper. "You know, you're the only person who's told me that today."

His sideways smile quickly turned into a frown. "I'm sorry, Y/N." From what you could tell, he seemed sincere, which felt strange since he otherwise seemed to hate your guts.

You simply shrugged, deciding the pain was easy enough to deal with without his help. "I can't believe you remembered."

He gave a soft nod of his head. "Of course I remembered."

"I honestly thought you'd be the last person to remember. Although, you do have that eidetic memory, so-"

"I remembered," he corrected. "Actually remembered. I made a conscious effort to remember."

Your brows furrowed, confusion swirling around in your mind and muddling your thoughts. You wondered why Spencer, your sworn enemy, would take the time to remember your birthday? Why would he allow even the smallest of crevices in his brain to be consumed by thoughts of you?

"What? I thought you hated me…" your voice trailed off, your eyes darting to look at the flowers, the ground, anywhere but his gaze.

You could almost hear the hurt and confusion in his voice when he spoke again. "I never hated you. If anything, I always thought you hated me."

You sighed, figuring you might as well tell him the truth. "I did. I mean, you're always correcting me. You won't even look at me half the time. I don’t think you’ve ever accepted one of my hugs or even a handshake for that matter. And just last week, when I tried to offer you one of my crackers from the vending machine, you looked like you were gonna throw up. I mean -"

"Y/N," he said with a soft chuckle. Your gaze shot up to meet him and that familiar look of discomfort took over his expression.

"Why are you laughing?" you asked, confusion racing through your mind.

"Because," he laughed again, a little louder this time, "I never hated you, Y/N. I just… I'm autistic."

You looked away again with slow blinks, burying your face in your hands. Embarrassment and guilt filled your gut, and you were honestly unsure how you hadn't connected the dots sooner. "I'm such an ass."

He pulled your hands away from your face, and you were quite shocked, considering how much the man hated physical touch. "It's okay. You couldn't have known. I don't really tell anybody because some people think it'll slow them down on the field or in the office."

A pout formed on your lips at the thought. Sure, you were sworn enemies with the man—or so you'd thought—but you could never imagine someone being mean to him like that.

Your hands fidgeted as you thought about what to say next, but if you had to be truthful, you weren't really sure what you could say. You wanted to kick yourself for being an ass, for creating an environment where Spencer felt like he couldn’t be open with you. But mostly, you currently wanted to kick yourself for noticing how pretty he looked at that moment.

"You still there?" he chuckled, hands sliding into his pockets.

Your shoulders shrugged again as you brought yourself back to reality. "Yeah," you answered, probably a little too quickly. "Um, thank you for the flowers, they're lovely."

In a couple swift motions, you were all but shoving him out of your room. "Wait-" he began to protest as you started to close the door.

"It's late, we should sleep. Not together!" you panicked over your words. "I just mean we should both get some sleep before the flight home tomorrow. In our own respective rooms. Our respective rooms in this hotel, that is. Obviously you can't go home and rest in your bedroom. That's what the flight is for!" With every word that flew out of your mouth, you cringed harder. Finally, you settled on telling him, "Good night, Reid," before finally getting him out the door.

Your back rested against the now closed door, fingers sifting through your hair as you attempted to collect your thoughts.

Why would you think Spencer of all people was attractive all of a sudden? Up until two minutes ago, you thought he hated you. Up until two minutes ago, you hated him too.

Or maybe that's just what you'd been telling yourself…

A subtle tap against the door had you coming up for air yet again. You made a mental note to tell your therapist about your sudden bout of brain fog.

As he did before, Spencer stood on the other side of the door, hands fidgeting and eyes struggling to maintain contact with yours.

"Can I kiss you?" he all but blurted out.

Either this was a dream or your ears deceived you. There was no way Spencer Reid, the guy who wouldn't even shake hands with people, wanted to kiss you. Or wanted to kiss you. "What?"

"You just… you look really pretty and you seem nervous, and kissing actually produces endorphins, which help relax the body. Although, I guess hugging works the same way, but kissing spreads less pathogens than hugging, and- now I'm rambling, aren't I?"

He must've caught the nervous giggle you were struggling to hold back. "Yeah, you do that a lot. But it's okay. It's kind of endearing."

His face went fully red at your comment. "So… is that a yes?"

You gave him a nod, though you couldn't shake the anxiety in the pit of your stomach. Your hands moved to his cheeks, pulling him down for a slow kiss. It felt like electricity pumping through your veins, butterflies swirling around in your tummy, and just about every other cliche you could think of. His kiss was intoxicating, and if you hadn't needed to come up for air, so to speak, you probably would've stayed there like that all night.

He leaned his forehead against yours, his jaw nearly dropping to the floor. "Woah," he exhaled with all the amazement of a kid at an amusement park.

"Woah," you copied. You couldn't help the smile that appeared on your lips. "I can't believe that just happened."

"Me either," he admitted with a nervous shrug. "But… I wouldn't mind doing it again."

You let out a shaky exhale, resting your forehead against his. "Well, for future reference, you don't have to ask. That was… woah."

"So, I can just-"

Without warning, he pulled you in for another kiss, and the butterflies fluttering around in your stomach multiplied tenfold.

He pulled away, scratching at the back of his neck. "Sorry. I just really enjoyed that."

You gave him a soft smile as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer for a soft hug. "I did too."

"So I can just keep kissing you? Over and over? As much as I want?"

You nodded against his chest. "That's the plan now, I guess."

"Woah."

You giggled against him, warmth filling you from head to toe. "Woah, indeed."

-> taglist: @lowsodiumfreaks67 @drayshadow @alexxavicry @nomajdetective @kbakery @leigh70 @darkloverfox @sammyrenae68 @cherrycandle @asgardprincess97 @gh0stgurl @esposadomd @randomwriter1021 @eddieharrington @lunar-affection @givemeth @lavhoes @rhyanishere @cat-lockwood @danielle143 @marsmallow433 @handsupforamiracle @topguncultleader @mente-sindescanso @reverieofmgg @spencer-reids-adventures @ah-blossom @encyclo-reid-ia @reidselle @thevisionthedream @dungeons-are-too-cold @louderfortheback @reidsbookclub @annahalstead5021 @cwritesforfun @maelartasch @buckyyyismahhlife @cynbx @hellooitsrose @lover-of-books-and-tea @therealrazortai

[sciencelings-arts]

Post totk Lu Wild concept where he comes back to the group six years later with one less arm, a magic rock, and even more patches added to his champions tunic. Also I wanted to add concepts for what the light bow and arrow would look like when made with parts from the light dragon, since light arrows are infinite and appear in the bow when it’s being drawn, so that would make it easier for a single armed Wild to still participate in archery, he just has to use his teeth to draw it back.

More lore and close ups under the cut

Someone had to inherit Mineru’s secret stone, and we all know how I’m a fan of giving it to Link. Also I hate the way the batteries are clumped together in the game so I changed it. The flames are based on poes and the other beaded waist part is made of dragon parts, they have a minor healing effect.

The bottom of Wilds tunic embroidery is based on the astral observatory and the master sword room in the master sword trials, where all around the room there are landmarks from Hyrule pointing where they are on the map. So I wanted to have the post totk floating Hyrule castle as the main thing, mostly because it looks cool and bc I wanted Wilds perspective to be from the great plateau kinda. Anyway I worked hard to make it recognizable lmao.

One more thing I want to bring up is the new golden sleeve(s), the one(s) that Ganondorf burned off, replaced by fabric made of the light dragons hair. I just thought it would be neat and I feel like she would shed after not having her hair brushed in thousands of years. It glows in the dark and helps with the pain management in his amputated arm.

Edit: I forgot to mention but the placement of the secret stone is also something I thought about. I realized that since the other members of the triforce had their secret stones aligned with the center of their body (forehead, chest) I figured that it would make sense for Link to have his following the same rule. So I decided on his belt. Otherwise, it would've been lower on his chest, maybe where the triforce would be on his master sword embroidery but I didn't want to crowd the space too much and I really wanted to doodle that part to my heart's content lmao. The belt just seemed a little bare so it made sense to me lol.

[asimpwithfreetime]

What about platonic!yan!matkayina x human/Navi hybrid!reader?

Like maybe reader was some kind of sky people experiment trying to cross the Navi with humans. Maybe she has a queue and can breathe the air, but she’s still a smol human? (Fr Tonowari would be able to pick you up with one hand he’s so large lol)

As it wasn’t specified, I am going to do Tonowari with his little adopted baby. I am going to make a story about Tonowari being a yan!dad!.

She is my baby! (Yandere! Platonic! Tonowari x hybrid! Reader)

Content warning: English isn’t my first language and this hasn’t been proofread yet (will anything in my page ever be?), kinda short ngl

General warning: yandere behavior, obsessive, overprotectiveness, typical yandere things

Little background: Sky people abandoned you in the sea, leaving you for dead. The ilus brought you to Tonowari and Ronal. She doesn’t like you one bit but Tonowari saw you so small, fragile and vulnerable that his dad instinct told him to protect you. Eventually he became a yandere.

Na’vi translate: My amhul, so ke’u yomtìng (supposedly: my child, do not fear)

[ 3rd Person POV ]

“She is not yours!” Ronal hollered at Tonowari. “WE didn’t birth her”

Tonowari sighed, trying to stay calm and collected. “Eywa brought her to me, she is my child. No need to be biological!” Y/n quivered by the Marui but she didn’t enter, she heard the fight. Everyone could hear it, truly.

“ENOGUH!” Tonowari roared as the fight escalated. Ronal suddenly was at a loss of words. Tonowari came out of the Marui with a darkened look, it slowly became softer as his eyes fell on his baby. He scooped his tiny human/Na’vi hybrid into his arms, cradling her with love and care.

“I am so sorry you had to see this. My amhul, so ke’u yomtìng” he said softly to his baby. Y/n just relaxed in his arms, knowing full well he would defend her anytime.

“I am alright, dad” she responded. Tonowari couldn’t help but puff his chest out in pride, hearing her say dad. The way it was so natural for her to call him dad made him really happy.

Ronal could be heard inside the Marui, muttering loudly to herself. Tonowari sighed. “She will need to understand that you are my child, there have been a few years for her to adapt!” He sighed to himself.

[ Another day ]

Tonowari and Y/n were collecting shells together, he liked to see the small shell in his hand turn into a complete massive object once held by her. He found the difference of height extremely funny. He could crack a few dad jokes or puns about it.

A Metkayina fisher approached him. “Tonowari, you should listen to your wife, she will never belong with us, Y/n must be with the ones of his own”. “Oh, SHUT UP!” Soon, that Metkayina was on the floor, being pressed down by Tonowari, who started brutally punching him.

“Dad!” Y/n exclaimed after a while of staring in shock and horror. Tonowari stopped, the fisher down him was barely recognizable. “What?” He questioned, taking in what he had just done. He smiled at his child, “have you seen how daddy protected you?” He smiled proudly, not understanding why his kid looked at him that way.

[emry-stars-art]

Oooh do go on about raven neil and jean 👀 (if you’re so inclined ☺️) - @neil-jostenminyard

*chanting* raven Neil raven Neil raven Neil (and lots of Jean) (quite possibly even jeaneil) (although most of the thoughts are post-ravens lol)

So my personal thoughts about this are also mostly thanks to chats and inspiration/prompting from @jtl-fics and @greenautumnleaves so if you see any additions from them on this post it's most likely also thoughts I adore lol

Anyway this got kind of long so:

I ALSO latched onto Sakavic's statement that Neil wouldn't leave Jean in the nest bc yeah it makes sense and also ow

But just the two of them being partnered up like Riko and Kevin as is common in these aus, and then after Kevin gets out first, they have to stick together and rely on each other even MORE because Riko is pissed that Kevin is gone and probably takes it out on the next closest two idk

But in our imaginings, Renee or Andrew get Jean out quicker than in canon, again because Neil would refuse to leave Jean behind and I can only imagine he'd go so far as to trick or manipulate Jean into leaving. Maybe by being at a certain place at a certain time to get picked up, however he can make it happen. But the issue we run into is that once that's done, what the hell would Neil have left at Evermore, besides Exy that maybe he still loves deep down. But Exy's been so warped being raised on it at the nest that at that point his obsession is barely recognizable.

Kevin might recognize this, because he knew Neil in the nest. Or at least he knew the person that Neil presented himself as. But it's probably more likely that Jean recognizes this, and yeah things are super rocky and weird but Jean can barely even function without Neil. So back a fox goes to rescue their second raven's partner.

They bring Neil back to Palmetto and he and Jean are completely inseparable. Emotionally and physically. Neither of them act like, feel like, or even call themselves "touchy feely" or "clingy" people but as soon as Neil is treated for various intense and mysterious injuries, they're curled up in some hidden place for hours. Even the short time having left Neil behind made Jean almost too anxious to leave his room. Even the short time without Jean - now with more punishment for aiding Jean's escape - was enough for Neil to consider something drastic.

(side note: Andrew now has not one, not two, but three gorgeous tragic boys under his supervision and I'm sure he's handling that totally normally lmao. But it's so obvious to him that Jean and Neil have something going on that any ideas for himself aren't worth entertaining.)

So it's a little easier to ease out of various habits and thought processes because Jean and Neil are doing it together, with outside help. They fix their sleep cycles/rhythms, try a slightly more normal college diet, and most slowly lose their "win or die" mindset in practices. They're still never seen without each other - Wymack had a talk with some of the school board about their schedules and dorm arrangements for the first semester. In reality, he's not sure if he should have them go cold turkey on raven habits or if he should take it slower, but he's doing his damn best to get these boys adjusted to life outside a cult. And Neil and Jean, whether or not they actively realize it, find that step to be the one they absolutely cannot take. Why would they go through the agony of learning to live separately if they don't have to. When no one else understands them like the other, when they've already seen each other's worst so nothing else is worth keeping secret between them. Who else is Jean going to go to when having a better life makes him feel like he more deserves death or punishment and the guilt hits him so hard he can't breathe, much less sleep. Who else is Neil going to go to when he can't let go of his birthright - if he isn't good at what he does (Exy) he literally could just be shot like a lame horse - and he's not allowed to go practice Exy against a wall to the point of tearing himself apart anymore so he forces his feet away from the court to find the only person he knows he'll listen to when they say no.

Kevin, of course, is keeping a close eye on the two, whether unintentionally or on purpose is unclear. Neil still has a mouth on him, he sometimes plays mind games with the foxes like chess against himself, and most of all does not allow anyone to get too close to Jean. Jean is still quiet, having learned not only to take a punishment without resistance but also that Neil will speak first. Neil will resist so Jean doesn't have to. He's safer in Neil's shadow.

Maybe it's a phrase or warning that Neil uses and that Kevin recognizes. Maybe it's a gesture between Neil and Jean that Kevin oversees. Maybe it's just the general demeanor of the two. But whatever it is is familiar to Kevin, not in a "I remember this from them in the nest" way. He can recognize by now that Riko was not good to him, he can acknowledge it even if the rest of him hasn't caught up. He looks at Jean in Neil's shadow and remembers himself in Riko's.

As if Butcher's son Nathaniel Wesninski wasn't already scary enough on his own.

But Kevin won't allow this kind of thing on his court, and he's not good at it but he is still trying to let go of unhealthy raven ideals. If Neil is holding onto some fucked up dynamic, Kevin is going to put a stop to it.

He pulls Jean aside, a miraculous feat. He asks what Neil has done.

"Mistake" might be an understatement.

It could very easily be the longest string of words Jean has said to anyone besides Neil. Kevin doesn't know near as much French as he does in canon - Neil is the one that shares that secret defiance - so it's all clear English, Jean making sure Kevin understands every word. Kevin should never speak about Neil that way again. He knows nothing about them, he shouldn't so much as pretend to understand Neil. Neil is the only good thing that ever happened to Jean. Kevin never cared enough to bring it up in the nest, so he has no right to start caring now.

It isn't great for their already tumultuous relationship. Kevin wonders for a bit if Jean would tell Neil about it - then next practice Neil doesn't even try to work with Kevin, even after the two had made it a point as strikers to figure out how to. He ignores the other strikers entirely, falling immediately and seamlessly into perfect synch with Jean behind him, speaking hardly a word of English the whole practice. Because he knows that will make Kevin even more angry than Neil being actively hostile to his new teammates.

Kevin isn't sure what he was expecting. Chances are Jean hadn't even needed to bring it up for Neil to notice something was off.

As for Andrew, I think he could still pick up a game of truths. He'd need to offer a similar deal as he did for canon Neil, this time for Neil-and-Jean, the entity of the two of them together. I think he could ensure some cooperation by saying he won't force Jean and Neil apart from each other the way some others have muttered about doing. Even if Neil knows by now the codependence isn't healthy, neither of them are ready to give it up.

It probably really throws Andrew to hear that they don't consider themselves to be an item. They're together, sure, but for a raven that doesn't always, maybe even rarely, means "in a traditional relationship". Neil and Jean definitely never offer any clarification. That's no one else's business, even if they could explain it so that a non-raven could understand. Generally I feel like if this is an andreil universe, it's an even longer, stranger, more winding road to get there than in canon.

I'm almost CERTAIN there's more Im forgetting about rn but this has been my taster on raven Neil+Jean, I hope it was at least a little bit coherent, and greenautumnleaves - I hope this comes anywhere close to your galaxy brain ideas on these two lol. Maybe I'll be back with other thoughts later who knows

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

I had werewolf!tav x astarion brainot lol

Rated M

warning: past trauma mentioned, soft astarion

Slowly getting back to posting more astarion goodies again! Requests are open

"I'll take good care of you," A kiss on your forehead then your cheek, "I promise." And you believe him. His touch is gentle, he has done this a thousand times but to do this willingly is different. You shiver before you start trembling, he kisses you as if you are made of glass— As if you will fall apart at any moment and he is right. You have never been touched with love nor cared for, it is a harsh life as a werewolf.

You are a dog… A dog that is to be collared and brought to heel. To be used as an attack or guard dog, you have no free will. Obey and serve.

Astarion's hand undos the buckle of the collar before slipping it off, his lips touch new bare skin but he does not bite down.

"You have given me so much," You say, "And yet I wish you to own me." It is all you know, to be a pet to any vampire or wizard who can trigger the runes of your collar.

Astarion places his forehead against yours, his hand over your chest feeling and listening to your heartbeat, "Back then I would have," Admitting a kept secret, "Keeping you to protect me and kill anyone who will harm me." His hands wander mapping out your body, gripping your eager hips that seek his movement. He fills you, links himself to you, yet doesn’t use you. He swears never to use you ever again.

"I can," It is all you know, "I will." He knows you will.

"You freed me." He kisses you once more, "Let me free you." Removing your collar is the first step, the second will take time— Time you both need to heal.

You nod but he touches your lips signaling you to speak, "Yes." Your voice is barely recognizable as you moan in desperation needing him. Genuine need, not the type for a rump in the woods but this real, he is honest and kind to you.

[creative-frequency]

Peel me an orange trend with

Raphael/ his favorite client 👀

Would you peel the devil an orange? 🍊👀 I wouldn't lol

Raphael x GN!Reader: Oranges

You woke up with a jolt and a raspy breath. Snugly covered in silken sheets, you made an effort to move your sore limbs. The bed carried the easily recognizable scent of palmarosa and pepper, but there was something else too. Something citrusy, maybe oranges?

As per usual, when your memories of the events leading up to your current disposition were hazy at best, you found yourself in the House of Hope. It was probably the eighteenth time. Or the twentieth. You weren’t exactly counting anymore.

“Still drawing breath, I see. How fortunate.”

It hurt to direct your eyes to the devil sitting in an armchair by the bed. No horns or wings today. His fingertips were pressed together and – well, fuck – did he look pissed.

“H-hey,” you greeted him in a hoarse voice. How long had you been out this time? Hours? Days? A week? You felt as if you had been wrestling with a pit fiend and lost.

Raphael’s frown deepened and his brows knitted together. He leaned forward in his seat and you could feel the aura of strong… displeasure radiating from him. It might not take many more times like this for him to finish you off himself, any contract be damned.

“Consider this the first and last time I will dig you from under a pile of bodies,” Raphael said in a tone as smooth as the sheets wrapped around your undeniably naked body.

This tone was worse than the times you had seen him lose his composure; it implied you had really been within an inch of your life – and so had his existence, by extension. You swallowed. Some pieces of distressing and gory memories surfaced and you felt sick. You had to pull at every bit of your willpower to not puke. What in the sweet Hells had happened?

Raphael stood up promptly, no doubt having only waited to see your eyes open and declare you alive. It was a habit he had formed during the previous seventeen times you had woken up in his house.

“Here, eat. You’ll need your strength to recover,” he said, motioning to the side table.

You turned to see pieces of a colourful fruit, neatly laid on a silver plate. That was why you had smelled oranges. The sweet scent was mouth-watering.

You cleared your throat and said: “Um, hey Raph?”

The devil stopped in his tracks, glaring at you over his shoulder. He absolutely hated the nickname, but it had never stopped you from using it. Annoying him was the greatest pastime House of Hope could offer.

“Thanks. I’ll pay you back for this one,” you continued, voice still a bit shaky and hoarse.

One side of Raphael’s mouth curled up and he nodded. “Rest now.”

And rest you did. And ate oranges. For three days you barely left the bed after initially going for a hunt for clothes. Raphael showed up only once a day to check that you were recovering. Haarlep kept you company and you accelerated the Archivist’s descent into madness by making him fetch you books from the library at least fifteen times a day. Raphael didn’t want you to socialise with his indebted souls, so besides the devil, you only talked to the incubus and the unlucky tiefling.

On the fifth day, Haarlep had trusted you with a knife and you were just digging into the second orange when Raphael walked in.

Once again in his human guise, his head tilted at the sight of you sitting up on the bed, a book splayed open across your lap and a knife and an orange in hand. Disapproval settled onto his features. You didn’t really care if you made a mess. He could always undo it with a snap of his fingers.

“Peel one for me?” Raphael asked and paced closer.

“I most certainly will not,” you replied instantly and plopped a piece of the juicy fruit into your mouth.

He sat down in the armchair and hummed. “A pity.”

“Can I leave today? I’m feeling fine now,” you said casually and chewed the fruit without any regard for table manners. Though, technically you were eating in bed.

“If you so insist,” Raphael nodded, “Although, there is one more matter I would raise.”

“What’s that?” you asked and munched on the last piece. Before leaving, you would have to ask Haarlep where Raphael got the fruits. They were delicious.

“As this was not a transaction, you’re not obliged to ‘pay me back’ as you so aptly put it, but I would request a small favour,” Raphael said and rested his ankle on his knee, fingertips once more pressed together as if he was negotiating a contract.

You groaned. Of course he wanted something. “And that would be?”

Raphael’s lips curled into a foreboding smile and he said:

“Peel me an orange.”

Any hint of amusement died from your face. “You’re truly the pettiest person I’ve ever met.”

[accio-victuuri]

CPN : ZZ’s mysterious driver & Web’s “selfie”

So I thought about whether i should talk about this or just leave it be. Cause i did mention the mystery driver in the August CPN post but I kept it vague and left minimum information. Because at the time, it sounded so galaxy brained and that it’s something that will never be what we want to be. And that’s fine. There are a lot of cpns/speculations/interpretations that are barely plausible and even us, we know it’s not possible, hence the term “clowning”.

this is one tho is making all of us go 👀.

( isn’t he the most gorgeous man ever? i don’t blame wyb for wanting to fetch him or visit. )

If you’ve been in this fandom long enough, you’ll know that sometimes the most nonsensical clues will become key points in the future. or those impossible cpns will (sometimes) sooner or later become more true.

This incident is a great example of that…..

For ZZ’s LOCH filming, there are proxy shooters who wait outside the site and film when ZZ arrives and leaves. Their clue is the car he uses but i don’t think he was ever photographed coming in or out like what happened with SBMS. That time, you can physically see him leaving/arriving to the hotel back entrance. There are photos and videos.

So 8/13, the same thing happens and cpfs noticed that the driver looked peculiar. It’s not his face per se, but what’s on it (p2).

We were clowning that it’s WYB with his helmet but it doesn’t look like his usual one. It’s too covered up.

At the time it was full on clowning. Would he really do this? Were other drivers photographed before and what did they look like? Is this the first time this mystery driver popped up? I haven’t seen the answer to that so that’s why i’m questioning it too. Maybe XZ does not want any part of the team to be recognizable.

A piece of the puzzle is added tho because of the Selfie WYB shared. As displayed above, we are putting it side by side. So is this him confirming our clowning? What are the chances that we were speculating about him wearing a different kind of helmet ( as the driver ) then he pops up with this selfie in particular.

Is this another coincidence? 🤡🤡🤡🤡

It’s also giving this vibe. His photo when he celebrated ZZ’s birthday and drove to where he was. Did he take this photo for the same purpose?

There is also a cpn going around based on XZ’s workday, it ended 20:20 and then WYB posted 20:39 so did he post it for XZ to see after work?

CPFs also noticed it’s taken from wechat camera. So meaning he sent it to someone else and yet again, we got leftovers. You could actually argue that “selfies” or things he shares on his weibo now are “leftovers”. I actually like that. He did not take a selfie or film a video with the intention of “posting for fans”. He probably shared it to xz or his circle of friends and decided why not share it on his weibo + fans.

Bonus is in today’s episode of SBMS there is this scene. Shengyang was looking through drawings of what looks like a moto goggles (?). LOL. The universe is really joining in on the clowning. Does WYB know this scene will come up the next day? Hmmmmmm…

It’s one of those things that is the reason why so many people are drawn to this pairing and fandom in general. Candies like this are why more and more people, even to this day, are becoming cpfs. We don’t even have to make “brainwashing” packages. You can’t even make these up. It just happens.

-END.

Disclaimer: I know the implications and dilemma of taking candies from these proxy shooters who make their lives hard. Tho the entrance of the shooting site is a public space and they know LOCH crew is in there, it’s still not an excuse to camp out. If you think about it, these paparazzi are the reason why the mystery driver have to dress like that instead of a normal person. So yeah. I understand if people don’t wanna eat this candy because of that or feel 50/50 about all of this.

[reineydraws]

so uh. @bktdbkweek was a thing that happened like... three weeks ago??? and i sketched some things and never really got around to finishing them properly but i still like the sketches so! this is for that lol. i managed five out of seven 😅 regardless, im glad someone organized a tdbk week, so thank u! 🙏🙏

the prompts and more details, below!

fantasy & pro heroes (pro hero bkg somehow ends up in the bnha fantasy 'verse, where prince shouto and bkg's counterpart havent met yet.)

arranged marriage & fake dating (a different fantasy au where shouto's still a prince--or at least the kid of a very rich lord--and tries to fake date katsuki, his friend and the blacksmith's son, to get out of an arranged marriage, only to find out katsuki was the marriage candidate all along! which means they can speed up the wedding right? 'cuz theyre both courting and in love, right?)

soulmates & roommates (soulmate au where your bare touch leaves different colours on your soulmate's skin, depending on mood. they somehow never noticed till they moved in with each other after high school.)

this is actually the day 5 prompt, omegaverse & undercover mission (bkg, still new enough a pro hero that his face isnt super recognizable, tries to go undercover at an omega clinic that seems to be a front for something. shouto, fighting a villain, literally chrashes in through the window before bkg's appointment, they get into an argument bc bkg's trying not to blow his cover, and then somehow shouto ends up being mistaken for bkg's alpha so now they've gotta do this together. oops?)

day 7 prompt, hurt/comfort & borrowing/sharing clothes (katsuki's shirts are shouto's comfort clothes! and he had a really bad day so they're cuddling.)

[snailor-bee]

Give me what I'm beggin' for (I just wanna get some)

I got hit by the horny train, lol. I love Nanami but wow, season 2 is doing some work, huh? I couldn't resist.

Nanami Kento x GN!Reader / NSFW  / 2.8k Summary: Post-mission, you decide to flirt with Nanami a bit, not expecting anything to come from it.

He decides to surprise you with way more than you'd bargained for. But you aren't complaining.

Warning: Although no pronouns are used, reader is wearing a skirt/tights!

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

The mission is a success.

You stand a bit to the side, watching as Nanami takes out the last curse with one blue shimmering fist, his knuckles covered by his familiar spotted yellow tie, speckled with blood.

When he turns to you, eyes barely visible through the green of his lens you give a thumbs up to show that you’re fine. Nanami nods before rolling his shoulders and starting to unwind his tie from his hand.

You swallow reflexively.

The fight hadn’t been that difficult, just terribly long. The two of you had worked up a sweat taking down the sheer number of curses.

Along the way, Nanami had shed his suit jacket and somehow the top few buttons of his blue shirt are open, exposing a bit of his chest, sparkling with sweat from the lights shining down from above you.

The two of you are in an abandoned district, the veil visible above you in between the buildings that are squished together.

You swagger over to him with a grin. “Hey there sexy, you come here often?” you ask, voice teasing. He pauses in his movements, raising a brow. You flutter your eyelashes at him, jokingly.

Normally, he’d just roll his eyes, the motion recognizable by the shifting of his head, even with his eyes hidden. Today he simply hums and resumes pulling his tie away. “Are you injured?” he asks.

“Nah,” you reply, bouncing on your feet. “Are you? You seem a little winded.”

“I’m fine,” Nanami says curtly, shoving the tie into his pocket. “Come here.”

It’s not phased as a question. You tilt your head and walk closer, wondering what he wants.

“Should I call—argh!” you let out a yelp as you get within arms reach and Nanami grabs your wrist, tugging you until you collide with his chest.

“No,” he whispers, breath ghosting out against your lips, leaning down into your space. “Don’t call just yet.” Then he captures your lips with his, releasing your wrist.

You grab onto the open lapels of his shirt, tip-toeing to press even harder against his lips, eyes fluttering closed. When his mouth opens, his tongue seeking entrance into yours, licking against the seam of your lips, you moan loudly.

A thick arm wraps around your waist, pulling you even harder against his unrelenting body, making you shiver as his tongue dives in to plunder your mouth. Your tongues wrap around each other, and you can feel the way he’s hard against your hip.

Interesting. Nanami, the stickler for rules, is feeling a little frisky today, huh? Well, you aren’t about to complain.

When you finally part for air, you’re panting. Nanami licks his lips and it’s so sinful you have to fight down a groan at the sight.

“This way,” he commands and you’re helpless to do anything but follow.

Nanami ends up pulling you into an alleyway, pushing you against a brick wall, and kissing you positively breathless. His big hands grope over your body, making you whine as they roam over your chest, moving lower to grip your thighs tightly. They’re almost large enough to go completely around them.

When you finally break apart, he places a hand on your shoulder, lightly applying pressure so you’ll get on your knees. You follow the silence command easily, the concrete uncomfortable but you barely pay it any mind. 

Feeling eager, you undo his belt quickly, wanting to get at the impressive tent he’s pitching. When you finally get his cock free, you wrap your hand around the base.  

It’s impressively girthy, and you waste no time angling it towards your face and sucking the tip into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks. The taste of precum spreads over your taste buds and you look up to see Nanami’s expression.

Unsurprisingly it’s mostly blank, but you know how to change that. Taking a deep breath through your nose, you let saliva pool in your mouth before you start to work your mouth down his length. When you get halfway, the head hits the back of your throat, making you gag.

Withdrawing, you breathe a bit more before swallowing down his dick again. You look up and see the way his lips quirk up in a small smirk.

“You’re doing so good,” he encourages, and you moan, muffled, around his cock. You rub your thighs together, pussy already throbbing. The scent of him, sweat and cologne, and the spicy undertones that are just him fill your senses and you just want more. “Let me?” he asks.

You pop off his dick to moan brokenly, your voice already gravelly. “Please,” you say, voice a rasp.

A hand settles on the back of your head, leading you back towards his dick and you try to relax your throat as he immediately thrusts it all the way in, your nose brushing against the pubes at his base. You close your eyes, trying to swallow around the cock that’s bullying its way into your throat, and not gag around it.

His hand clenches and draws you back a few measly inches, enough for you to breathe through your nose before shoving you back down.

You suck around the length of his cock as he uses your mouth, working you up and down his cock, pace unrelenting.

One hand is wrapped around his hip, clinging for dear life, but the other has trailed down between your legs, desperately rubbing against your aching clit.

You don’t dare to do anything else though; Nanami hasn’t said anything about you rutting against the palm of your hand, but if you tried to work in a few fingers he might get upset.

Nanami is a well of patience, if he wants to drag this out as a punishment for you, he absolutely can.

You’re too worked up to want to wait so you try to be good. But it’s so hard when precum is coating the back of your throat, and all you want is to feel his fat cock inside of you.

When he drags you away your eyes flutter open. Tears make your eyelashes clumpy as you look up at him through watery eyes. Nanami growls at whatever expression you’re making. You open your mouth, leaning forward to lick across the head and he shivers.

His cock looks painfully red, ready to burst and he—gently—grabs your underarm and helps you up onto shaky feet.

“Put your hands on the wall,” he whispers to you, his voice husky and deep. It stokes the flames already burning in your gut and you spin around with a swallow. He hikes up your skirt, rubbing appreciatively over your ass, clothed in tights. There’s a slap and you jolt, placing your hands on the brick wall so you don’t move. The hit wasn’t hard—Nanami has so much control over himself it’s sometimes unreal—but it’s just enough to leave a sting that he rubs at soothingly.

The sound of something ripping makes you flinch, and you feel his fingers stroking the folds of your pussy over your underwear.

“Did… did you just rip my tights?!” you ask, offended.

The bulk of his body leans over you, suddenly bringing with it the warmth of his body heat. An arm wraps around your waist, while one of his feet kicks your legs further apart, and he takes on your weight as you stumble.

“I’ll buy you new ones,” he says mildly. You wrinkle your nose. That is not the problem, and you open your mouth to tell him so when his fingers hook onto the fabric of your underwear, already drenched from your fluids. You wiggle, confused why he isn’t just moving them aside when he abruptly yanks, tearing the fabric.

“Nanami!” you screech, struggling but the arm around your waist keeps you locked in place and all your squirming does is bring your ass in contact with his cock. It’s a rod of heat as it presses between your ass cheeks, and you freeze.

He chuckles, placing a kiss against your temple. “I’ll pay for that too,” he promises.

“Dick,” you mutter under your breath.

“Patience, I’m getting there,” Nanami says, a smile in his tone. You roll your eyes but can’t help but buck back into him, trying to get his cock where you want it. Your clothes are already ruined, there’s no use in complaining about it now, and besides, you want this.

When his cock finally slips between your thighs, dragging against your cunt deliciously, you can’t help but moan and arch into it. You let your hands take on more of your weight as you lean further into the wall, rising up onto your tiptoes, trying to force him inside.

“Greedy for it, are we?” he asks, running a hand down your spine, the other a brand of heat at your hip, holding it tight. “Tell me how much you want it.”

“Badly,” you groan, wiggling your ass. He thrusts lightly, but his cock only manages to glance across your clit, making you hiss. “So badly, Nanami, babe, give it to me.”

He doesn’t immediately, simply drives you mad as he drags his cock across your folds, spreading your slick all over your tights that are still covering your thighs. It’s infuriating but also intoxicating. Nanami has never let the two of you go this far on a mission. Knowing that the manager is waiting somewhere for the two of you to finish up, that they might wander inside the veil to check out the situation and hear the two of you going at it, makes you moan, and your pussy lets out another wave of juice to spill across Nanami’s dick.

“That’s it,” he says with approval, “get it nice and wet for me.”

Finally, finally, you feel him start to feed the tip inside you. You widen your stance, eagerly thrusting back onto his cock. The hand on your hip keeps you firmly in place though and you whine, high-pitched and needy.

Nanami, of course, notices. He chuckles again, the sound ripping through you like a forest fire. “You want it that badly, hm? Well, okay then.”

He doesn’t give you any more warning than that, just suddenly shoves inside, burying himself to the hilt. You let out a muffled scream, slapping a hand over your mouth. Nanami grunts and pulls back a few inches before shoving back inside.

It feels like your nerves are sizzling, everything trained on the feeling of his cock stretching the walls of your pussy so good. You’ve taken him dozens of times before, but every time it’s like you can’t help but be so turned on by the way it carves into your insides.

With both hands now on your hips, he goes a half a step back, forcing you to follow and your hands scramble for the wall, trying to hold yourself upright.

“Don’t cover your mouth,” Nanami chides. “Let me hear you.”

You look over your shoulder at him, biting your lip. “B-but what if someone hears—ah!” He cuts you off with a punctuated thrust, making you lose your train of thought.

“Let them,” he says, before he pulls mostly out and ramming back inside, the force pushing all the air from your lungs.

He works you into a steady pace, the sounds of your flesh slapping together echoing down the alleyway, alongside your moans.

You’re loud and it should feel embarrassing, but it’s hard to think about anything else but the drag of his cock in and out of you, and the way it feels when he pushes all the way inside, burying himself so deep you swear you can feel it in the pit of your stomach. Nobody else makes you feel this way, the way Nanami so effortlessly takes control and makes you take everything, makes you want to take everything, it’s exhilarating.

Your orgasm is cresting, working up to it with every thrust that makes you almost see stars. “Nanami,” you whine, “’m close!”

A hand travels up the length of your spine to bury itself in the hair at the back of your neck. He tightens his hand into a fist, dragging you back, making you arch even further. It hurts but also feels so good that you can help but moan as he leans over you, making eye contact through the green of his glasses. “That’s it, baby, I got you. Come on my cock for me.”

“Mmm! Please, please!!” you beg. You can’t move, stuck between Nanami’s unrelenting pace and the wall. You wish desperately that you could thrust back into him as he starts pounding into you even faster.

The hand in your hair pulls harder, and the knot that has been tightening suddenly snaps as you sob out your release as you cum, fingers clawing against the brick looking for purchase.

Nanami fucks you through it, not bothering to ease up the ferocity of his thrusts. Once you start to relax, he finally releases your hair allowing you to collapse more fully against the wall, slowing to a stop.

Again, he wraps an arm around your waist, leaning against your back. Your eyes flutter as your body struggles to come down from its high.

“Good?” he asks, and you nod numbly. “Alright, just a little bit longer.” You groan as his cock withdraws and presses back in, slowly, letting you feel every inch of it.

He nips at your jaw before pulling away completely, his cock sliding free from your body. You turn to look at him whining with confusion when he spins you abruptly and grabs you beneath the thighs, lifting you into the air and letting your upper body press against the wall.

Nanami’s cock finds its way through your folds again and you throw your arms around his shoulders as it pierces you, making you cry out. When he buries himself again, he leans forward enough to kiss you and your mouth falls open immediately.

Moans are muffled between you as he starts thrusting once more, easily taking on your weight and you can do nothing but take it.

“Nanami,” you groan against his lips. You hang on for dear life and feel the way his hips crash against your ass, the way it seems like he grows bigger.

He moans your name, before his hips start stuttering, pulling you flush against him as you feel the way his cum starts to coat your insides. For a moment, the two of you just breathe. You feel tingly all over and as Nanami slowly withdraws and lowers to you the ground, your legs are shaky as you attempt to stand straight.

The moment you do, you feel the way his cum sloshes out of you, trailing down your thighs and you shudder with displeasure.

“Why did you rip my undies?!” you demand but he’s already tucking himself away and pulling out his phone. “Don’t ignore me!”

Unfortunately for you, he does just that and you end up in the back of the car, Nanami by your side, arms crossed and scowling.

You can feel the way his cum is still leaking out of your totally drenched pussy, no fabric except for your skirt to catch it, your tights thoroughly ripped around the crotch and your underwear no more than strips of fabric that don’t do anything but dangle uselessly.

The manager luckily doesn’t seem to find anything amiss, but you’re still feeling a little testy. Nanami rests a hand on your thigh making you jump but he squeezes the flesh there and you look up at him with a glare. He leans closer to you to whisper, “What’s wrong?” He says it low enough that the music playing in the car easily covers it. 

“You!” you hiss, and he raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “You’re an asshole, making me sit here like this!” You open your knees just a little to demonstrate. Not enough to flash anything but just to get the point across.

Quick as a snake, his hand works its way under your skirt and presses against your core. Just as fast, he withdraws with a hum, leaving you to wheeze next to him.

You watch, wide-eyed, as he brings his fingers up to his lips and gives them a little lick. “I just wanted to make sure you were ready for the next round,” he says, and you blink back with surprise. “But if you aren’t interested…” he trails off mildly, crossing his legs and brushing off invisible lint. “Then that’s fine.” 

Grabbing his arm, you narrow your eyes at him, considering. His expression doesn’t change. Your pussy clenches on nothing and feels the soreness that comes from a thorough fucking. More cum gushes out.

You make a decision.

“Your office, on the desk,” you state under your breath, still mindful of the driver. Nanami smirks and tilts his head in agreement.

“Fine with me.” He leans in closer to whisper into your ear, “I’ll finish ripping off whatever’s left.”

You swallow as he settles back, looking pleased, desire once again simmering low in your belly.

Nanami is unfair, you decide.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

[buckybarnesss]

Lurker now follower here, hi hi, I love your blog and all your insights and thoughts on Teen Wolf and Sterek!! I just finished a rewatch and then immediately started over from the beginning because I am Unwell 😂😂😂

I’m on episode one and I gotta say it’s pretty hilarious how Stiles immediately recognizes Derek. Like, I can only imagine how obsessed he was with the fire and the Hale family, and now Derek is back!!

I don’t really have more coherent thoughts on this, just my brain going BRRRRR so yea lol 😂😂

hi! welcome!

i know we all joke about how stiles immediately knows it's derek hale that he and scott run into because it is funny. like stiles baby. honey. the signs were there.

i've always gotten the impression the fire is something stiles remembers very, very well.

the hale fire changed beacon hills. the hales had been there since the town's foundation. they were a well off, prominent family. there was reason to suspect arson. multiple children died and the only known survivors were two barely adult children and a severely burned, comatose man.

laura and derek were high schoolers. cora was eleven years old and presumed dead.

we're told the only thing left recognizable of talia hale were her claws.

it's the definition of a tragedy.

not to think of the supernatural repercussions to the vacuum left behind.

stiles would've been about 10 when the fire occurred which is young but old enough to understand the severity of such an event. especially as the child of the sheriff.

he probably saw how it weighed on his father and had a healthy dose of morbid curiosity. he may have even have knew cora hale in that passive way you know other kids in your school even if you don't know them personally. one day there and the next dead. for someone like stiles who gets hyper-focused on things and has a lot of anxiety stemming from the death of his mother i can easily imagine how his mind didn't let it go.

meeting derek in person created a hyperfixation so intense and so unhinged it led to him recognizing teen derek hale at 50 paces or less in a mexican desert several years later.

as he got to know derek he unlocked the layered tragic backstory stiles really became derek's secret keeper.

and it is only stiles that gets these pieces of the puzzle that is derek hale. he's the one who goes through the hale fire files, he's the one who pieced together that kate argent preyed on a young derek and he knows about paige.

i find it interesting choice to have only stiles know these things about derek. scott never learns of these things that could possibly make him more empathetic towards derek. the writers don't use it that way.

especially because stiles learning these things never goes anywhere overt. it's all in the subtext of the relationship between derek and stiles.

like, stiles learns about paige and he does nothing with this information but we do see him with tears in his eyes over it. he doesn't ever learn that paige's death gave power to the nemeton either. jennifer only tells derek that.

he knows all of this about derek and never tells anyone. he only ever alludes to knowing about kate one time and it's in the overlooked when he gets in derek's face. i'm unsure derek's even aware stiles knows about paige. stiles carries all these secrets about derek and he never uses it against him. instead he continues to keep coming back again and again and again for derek.

more importantly he understands derek and what is love but the mortifying ordeal of being known.

that all said stiles is absolutely unhinged about derek and derek does nothing to curb this by the way. if it bothered him he'd stop it but they are freak4freak so derek probably finds it charming even if he puts up a few token protests just to bait stiles.

[miasiegert]

Hi Cats Tumblr People,

So I heard you like pics.

Please bear with me (AND TEACH ME) how Tumblr works/if I'm doing it wrong! I'm literally the "How do you do, fellow young people?" meme. Our Etsy is linked (unless I messed that up!) Right now it's bare (LOT of work and VERY old photos in the banner) but we'll be posting some cossies soon that are ready to retire. Some of our prices sadly will have to rise (we undercharge honestly for the amount of time put into them... we just LOVE making them). Anyway...

These are our original designs. We have taken inspiration from different productions, from the US tour to Gothenburg to Australia to Japan, less UK because it gets the most attention and we like COLOR! but this is all us. Our goal is to a) have characters be recognizable and b) make swing unitards in palates that could pass as at least 3 characters for emergency. When our rentals go out, swing unitards go with them, and ultimately it's the director who decides what makes the final cut (so a less yellow Demeter for example--but we LOVE that one).

If we ever do a production of Cats with Chaz, you'll notice one in Red, White, and some Black (but mostly Red and White, with fan ears, that is a design David created and is Chaz's FAVORITE design of all time. Any time he does a show, if we're hired, that costume goes. Usually Electra, but any ensemble/swing kitty and can cover for Sillabub or in a pinch Bombalurina. Yuka wore it at Interlakes before she did Victoria on the last US Tour! You might notice an Admetus in tans and GREEN undertones--that was my design he loved. We also did the purple twins (which was vetoed and I said, "Okay" then did it anyway because I knew he'd love it, which he did!), and REBA Gumbie Tap Suit was completely mine (everyone thought I was out of my MIND when I started making it! Even David! Then the shoulder pads came, and the belt, and tail, and BEDAZZLING!!! SO MANY RHINESTONES!!!!) Our Misto coat lights up but we still have a lot to learn about arduino since we'd eventually like to make it blink to music. The Misto coat is also created to fit a multitude of sizes, basically the theatre using their department for alterations since we make use of stretch fabric. I've known Bronson for almost as long as Chaz (he even designed my author website!!!) so when I saw him cast, I showed him his costume (a much, much browner/redder Gus than most see--I was serious about liking color) and let him choose between two coats. He said he wanted pants and we went, "NO! PANTLESS PRODUCTION!" because we thought he was joking! We didn't realize... HE REALLY WANTED PANTS!!!! SORRY BRONSON! So shout out to Wichita for making him pants! LOL!

There is a HUGE joke about Tumble thirsting for Tugger more than the girls so you'll notice that with the Tugger ABOUUUOUOUOUOUOUOUUUUUUUUUT THAT.

Hope that's of interest! And no, I'm not procrastinating on edits when my agent deadline is Sunday. Haha... ha... ha... ha... ha... Sera, if you're reading this I PROMISE I'M WORKING OKAY??? I DIDN'T KNOW WE GOT ON BROADWAYWORLD!!!

We also saw some comments about casting in general and some confusion/questions about different dancers doing different parts (Alonzo vs Plato). Would anyone be interested in learning more about the casting process in general and things that directors/choreographers need to take into consideration? Please note, I will not discuss ANY performers we work with. Ever. All are extraordinary and these are tough calls that aren't easy to make and based on other factors, including the ensemble at large, and sometimes huge changes are made.

[vodika-vibes]

The Mermaid and her ARC

Summary: Five years after your father mysteriously vanishes, you decide it's time that someone goes looking for him. And you get help from a handsome ARC Knight.

Pairing: Knight!Fives x Mermaid!Reader

Word Count: 6044

Warnings: Mentions of Torture

A/N: So far, this is the longest fic of this particular AU, but it's valid because it's Fives, lol.

Tagging: @the-bad-batch-baroness

Divider by saradika

“Stay away from the Land Dwellers, they’re dangerous and will only hurt you.” Your mother speaks these words daily, sometimes multiple times a day, and it’s getting harder and harder to listen to her. 

And your mother knows this. She sees the way your gaze wanders to the glimmer of sunlight, barely seen at the depths at which you live. She watches as you collect trinkets that fall into the water, and turn them over in your hands as you work out what it’s for.

And you know your mother fears for you. For your safety. She fears that one day, like your father, you’ll go to the surface and never return. So she holds you close, restricting your movements, and ensuring that you always have guards around who will stop you if you wander too far from your mother’s embrace.

You are a princess for a kingdom that spans leagues, and you’ll never see it all because your mother confines you to her palace and her gardens. She shoves you in lessons from the time you wake until the time you fall asleep, and while you know that this is her way to protect you…you are growing to resent her.

You swim through brightly lit halls, effortlessly skirting around wizards and warriors alike as you approach your mother in the throne room. Your mother favors you with a warm smile, and you settle several feet away from her, watching as she finishes conducting her business.

Your mother is…resplendent. With a golden tail and nearly translucent golden fins, she’s easily recognizable as the Queen of your people. And if the golden fins weren’t enough to prove her identity, she’s also clad in the finest, and most delicate, jewelry that your craftsmen can make.

And while you look a little like your mother, with a similar build and hair color, you look much more like your father’s more northern appearance, with your tail looking more dolphin-like than your mother’s koi fish.

Often you feel out of place among the more delicate mer-people of the south, though it’s been many years since anyone has made a comment to you about how different you look.

Not to mention you’re always cold, no matter what temperature the water is around you, so you have to wear jackets and tunics just to stay warm.

You smile when your mother swims over to you and engulfs you in a tight hug, “Oh, I am so pleased to see you,” She croons, even her voice sounds like delicate bells. “You don’t often have interest in affairs of court, my dear.”

“I still don’t have any interest in the affairs of court, mother.” You reply as you allow her to guide you out of the throne room and down the long hall that leads to her quarters.

“Oh?” Your mother shoots you a curious look, “Is something wrong?”

You’re quiet for a moment, “I was just thinking,” You say as you slow to a stop in front of the portrait of your father, and you reach up and touch the painting, “I miss him, mother.” You admit as you drop your hand.

“Oh, my soul.” Your mother presses a kiss to the top of your head, “I miss him too.”

Your father had been a handsome man, tall and broad, with a booming laugh that could be heard all across the castle. He loved fiercely and loudly, and you never felt too big when he was around simply because he was always larger than life.

“You don’t act like it,” You say quietly.

Your mother stills and she scowls at you, “Just because I don’t allow my grief to control me, daughter, does not mean that I do not miss him. He was my husband.”

“You speak of him as though he’s dead, mother! You have since the day he vanished!” You twist out of your mother’s embrace, “I just…can you not send someone to the surface to look for him? He might yet live!”

“No. Absolutely not!”

“Mother-”

“I said no!” Your mother takes a deep breath to try and get a handle on her anger, “I said no,” She repeats, her voice calmer, “This is not up for discussion. Is there anything else you need?”

You press your lips into a thin line and flicker your gaze up at the picture of your face. He beams down at you, pride and love shining through, even though it’s nothing more than a painting.

“No, mother.” You offer her a stiff bow, “I’m sorry for bothering you.” You flip in the opposite direction and swim away. You slip through the crowd of people who congregate in the throne room, somehow invisible to them in spite of your title, and you swim out a window and down to the garden.

Your best friends, your cousins, perk up as you swim over to them. “Well?” Your youngest cousin asks, his eyes wide as he swims over to you, “What did your mother say?” He asks.

“Mother has no intention of looking for father.” You reply bitterly.

“But…that’s not fair!” His older sister said as her fin flicks with anger, “You are meant to just live without your father?”

“So it would seem,” You coil your tail under yourself, and you smile when your younger cousin attaches himself to your side and lays his head on your shoulder. 

These cousins are from your father’s side of the family, and so, like you, they aren’t delicate at all. They’re visiting you while your mother and their father negotiate some trade.

“You could go on your own,” Diona, your older cousin says thoughtfully as she pins you with a furious stare, “You know how to take a human form, right?” She demands.

“Of course,” You reply with a frown, “Father taught me when I was a child. He used to bring me to the surface, until mother found out. And she put a stop to it.”

“How are you meant to learn about your neighbors if your mother forces you to isolate!?” Strom demands from where his head is laid on your shoulder.

“Mother has no intention of negotiating with Surface Dwellers,” You say gently, “And she thinks your father is foolish for doing so.”

Diona folds her arms and sniffs, “Maybe that’s why Uncle hasn’t returned. Your mother is awful.”

“She’s still my mother, Diona.” You warn as you bare your razor sharp teeth at your cousin.

“Please don’t fight,” Strom interjects, as he swims between the pair of you, “Diona, we’re meant to help her, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Diona unfolds her arms, “Look, just…tonight, sneak out of your room and go to the surface. Once you’re on land no one will come after you.”

“You may have a point…” You mumble thoughtfully. You run the plan, if you can even call it that, over in your mind. It will work, assuming you’re able to get to the surface. “Okay, I’ll do it.” You finally say and your cousins flash nearly identical grins. 

“I’m going to go now, and toss some human clothes for you to wear,” Diona says cheerfully, “Don’t tell anyone where I am.”

She’s gone for less than an hour, and only moments after she returns, the three of you are collected for a political dinner with your respective parents. It’s a painful meal, with your mother chiding you for eating the food set aside for your cousins and aunt and uncle, rather than the food that the chef made for them.

Which, naturally, starts a fight between your aunt, who accuses your mother of trying to starve you, and your mother, who snaps that eating meat all of the time isn’t healthy for a young mermaid.

Luckily, you’re able to steal some of the fresh fish that your cousins were allowed to eat, before you escaped from the growing fight at the table. 

“Your mother really makes you eat plants and calls it fake meat?” Strom asks as he swims next to you.

“She says that my carnivorous tendencies are unhealthy,” You reply with a sigh.

“No wonder you’re cold all of the time, and no wonder you’re so much smaller than me,” Diona says from the other side of Strom, “You’re starving all of the time.” She shakes her head.

“Good night, Diona. Good night, Strom.” You say, rather than replying to your cousin’s comment. There’s nothing to say, she’s right. They both wave at you as they veer off to their quarters, and you continue up towards the tower you claimed as yours when your father disappeared.

“Heading to bed, Princess?” One of the guards asks cheerfully from his position near your bedroom door, there to keep you from wandering, rather than to keep anyone from getting into your room.

“That’s the plan,” You reply as you swim past him, “Good night, Indra.”

“Sleep well, Princess.” Is the immediate reply as the door clicks shut behind you.

Your bedroom is small, considering the fact that you’re a princess and you should have a much larger bedroom. But this tower used to be your father’s workroom, the place where he crafted spells and sigils. It helps you feel close to him.

And, after five years, you know your father’s tower better than anyone in the palace. Which means that no one other than you knows about the secret tunnel that leads outside the palace walls.

You swim around your room, gather the things that you’re going to need. A bag of credits goes in your bag, as well as several pieces of jewelry that you can sell if you need to, and finally a picture of your father and you in your human forms.

You look around the room one more time, exhale slowly, and then pull the tome that opens the secret passage under the tower. You swim in and make sure that the passage closes behind you, and then you follow the long, winding, path beneath the palace.

And then you slip out from behind the large boulder that hides the entrance to your father’s tower. You take stock of where you are, and you make sure there’s no one around, and then, with a powerful kick of your tail, you ascend.

You follow the path your cousin set, and before you know it you’re working the magic to shift into your human form, and you carefully walk from the water to a small shack. 

Inside is a simple outfit, a long sleeved tunic and matching trousers, as well as a pair of simple slip on shoes. There’s also a fluffy towel, which you immediately drape over your head to try and dry your hair, and a ribbon to tie your hair back.

“What the actual fuck,” You turn to the left, and your head cocks to the side when you see a man standing there. “You…you just…came out of the ocean…?” He points at the water, “What the fuck?”

You blink at him, slightly bemused. He’s tall, with dark curly hair, and he’s staring at you wide eyed. You notice that his hand is twitching towards a blade on his hip, though he doesn’t grab it.

And then, as if suddenly realizing that he’s staring at a naked woman, he blushes bright red and spines around, clapping his hand over his eyes, “Sorry, sorry! I’ll let you dress.”

You release an amused noise, and turn to start pulling on the clothes. It doesn’t take you long, it has only been five years since the last time you wore human clothes, you don’t quite pull the shoes on yet though. You know from experience that walking will be hard for a bit. “I’m dressed now,” You call over to the strange man.

He turns back around and he approaches you as you start pulling your hair into a tail. He walks over to you, and then drops onto the sand next to you, and you notice that he has a five tattooed on his forehead. “You’re a mermaid,” He breathes out, sounding awed.

You turn on the sand and regard him thoughtfully for a moment, and then you smile, “I am.” 

“I had no idea that mermaids lived so close…” He pauses, “Oh, uh…I’m Fives.”

You smile brightly at him, and introduce yourself, offering him your hand. He’s so distracted from staring at you, his lips slightly parted, that he doesn’t notice your hand right away. But when he does he blushes red and quickly shakes your hand.

“Um, so…what brings you here?” Fives asks, once he finally manages to stop staring at you.

“My father went missing five years ago, and I’m looking for him.” You explain, “We looked everywhere in the kingdom, so the only logical solution is that he’s somewhere up here.”

You dig around your bag and pass the photo to him, “This was taken shortly before he vanished. Father used to bring me up here to just have fun.” 

Fives takes the picture and looks it over, “Aww, cute.” He breathes out, his gaze lingering on the teenage version of you for a moment, before his gaze drifts over to the man in the picture, “Hm…you know, he kind of looks familiar.”

You perk up, “He does?”

“Yes, but I…hm…” He taps the picture a few times, “Ugh, I can’t remember.” He hands the picture back to you, “So, mesh’la, where do you intend to stay while you’re playing human?”

“Oh,” You don’t recognize the strange word, but it doesn’t feel like an insult, so you don’t press him, “I was going to sleep on the beach, and then find somewhere better to sleep tomorrow.”

“That’s…no.” Fives pinches the bridge of his nose, “You are a young woman, you cannot sleep on the beach.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not safe!” He sighs and stands, and then offers you his hand, “Come on, you can crash at the ARC barracks. My brothers won’t bother you, and we’ll help you find your father.”

You take his hand and allow him to drag you to your feet. You sway unsteadily for a moment, and Fives lightly grips your shoulders until your legs are a little steadier. Once you’re sure you’re not going to fall, you pull the shoes on and grab your bag, and grin up at Fives, “Alright, lead the way!”

You’re still a little unsteady as he leads you away from the ocean, but the longer you walk, the steadier you become, until you’re able to jog to keep up with Fives longer strides.

“So, what’s an ARC?” You ask as you cheerfully spin on your toes and move so you’re walking backwards in front of him.

“You’re going to fall, mesh’la,” Fives warns, though there’s a wide grin on his face as he watches you essentially dance next to him, “And an ARC is a type of Knight. We’re the best of the best.” There’s a hint of pride in his voice, “Do you have anything like that where you come from?”

You spin again, a delighted giggle slipping from you, you just can’t do this kind of stuff underwater, “Oh yeah. Mother’s Royal Guard.” You roll your eyes expressively, “More like mother’s royal babysitters, but-” You clasp your hands under your chin, “I still managed to sneak out.”

“Sneak out?”

“Mother doesn’t want to look for father. And she believes that all land dwellers are evil,” You grin at him, “I don’t agree, obviously. But my mother also seems to think that I’m not very clever, on account of being big.”

Fives stares at you, more specifically the top of your head that just reaches his shoulder, “I hate to break it to you, mesh’la, but you’re not big at all. You’re actually kind of…average, height wise.”

“Really? That’s sweet of you to say!” You chirp as you finally stop spinning and fall into step next to him.

“It’s the truth,” He replies with a shrug, “Turn here,” Fives presses his hand between your shoulder blades as he escorts you towards the palace. No one stops the pair of you as he guides you to a door. He enters a code, and guides you down a hall and then pushes open a door.

“Here we are. I share this room with my twin brother, Echo.” He nods to the identical man sitting on a bed, looking between you and Fives and then back again, “My bed is closest to the door, and you can use that one near the window.”

“Uh…Fives?” Echo asks, “What’s going on?”

“She needs our help, Echo.” Fives explains, he digs through his closet and tosses a tunic at you, “here, this is long on me, so you can use it as a sleep shirt.”

You look at the shirt, and then at Fives, and you shrug. You immediately grab the hem of your shirt to pull it over your head, only to have both Fives and Echo lunge across the bed to grab the hem of your shirt, holding it down.

“You can’t just strip in front of us,” Fives said hurriedly, “It’s not proper.”

You sigh and shake your head, “Humans.” You mutter, “If I turn around will it be okay?”

“Uh…yes?” Echo asks, as both he and Fives release you. “Fives,” He hisses, “Why did she say humans like that?”

“She’s a mermaid.” Fives says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, he very pointedly looks in another direction as you slip into the overly large tunic he gave you, and he only looks back when he hears you settle on the bed with a happy noise.

“So…” Echo says, slightly awkwardly, “Why is a mermaid in our barracks?”

“My father is missing,” You explain patiently, “Fives said he’ll help.”

Echo stares, hard, at Fives, who just shrugs, “It’s something we’ll start tomorrow, vod.” Five says, “Get some rest, mesh’la.”

You lay down on the impossibly soft bed, and you cheerfully tug the blanket up over your nose. And you fall asleep to the sound of a whispered argument between Fives and Echo.

********

Five days later, you’re no closer to finding your father than you were when you first arrived. Though now instead of it just being you, Fives, and Echo looking for your father, the entirity of ARC is helping you look.

And you also have your own room, now. So you no longer have to share.

“Where are we going, Fives?” You ask as you walk down the street next to him.

“I heard a rumor about a blacksmith who saw someone matching your father’s description.” Fives replies as he gently tugs you out of the way of a cart.

“Recently?” You ask hopefully.

He grimaces, “Sorry. But with any luck the blacksmith will be able to point us into the right direction.” Fives leads you to a massive open air shop, where a woman is hammering out a piece of metal. “Don’t touch anything, mesh’la.”

You nod at him, and follow him into the shop. The woman ignores them for a bit, and then she dips the metal into water, and pulls off her face mask, “ARC Fives, need another new sword?”

“No, ma’am.” He replies politely, “Was actually wondering if you could help us with something else.”

“What’s that?” She asks as she walks over to them.

You hand the picture to her, “This is my father, he vanished five years ago.” You explain.

“The owner of the bar said that he pointed him in this direction, to you specifically,” Fives adds, “If you can remember anything-?”

The woman takes the picture and stares at it for a moment, “You know, I actually do remember this guy. Massive guy, taller and broader even than Alpha. He wanted to order something for his little girl.” She glances at you, and something like sympathy crosses her face, “That’s you then?”

“Yes, ma’am,” You reply.

“Hm. He said that his little girl was being picked on, something fierce, by her classmates, and he wanted something to make her feel better. You say he vanished after he visited my shop?”

“He did, yes.” Fives says quietly as he lightly places a hand on your shoulder.

“I wish I could help you,” The woman says quietly, “I didn’t see where he went when he left.” She pauses for a moment, “Hold on a second.” She turns and vanishes back into her shop, and reemerges with a small box, which she opens. 

Your eyes widen as she passes a delicate looking bracelet into your hands, “What’s-?”

“It was a challenge. I’ve never made jewelry outta steal before. But-” she shrugs, “It’s yours kid. Your Da paid for it in advance, and I’ve been waiting for someone to claim it. I hope you find him, kid. I really do.”

Fives gently fastens the bracelet around your wrist, when he notices you having trouble with the clasp, and then he thanks the blacksmith and guides you out of her shop. “I’m sorry, mesh’la. I really thought that she would be able to help.”

You shake your head, “We learned something, at least.” You reply as you blink the tears out of your eyes.

Fives gently brushes his fingers across the bracelet, “Your father loved you, mesh’la.”

You release a shaky laugh, “Yeah, He did. Does.”

“Come on, let’s head back to the barracks and see if anyone else learned something.” Fives says with a sigh.

You walk in companionable silence through the crowded village, and follow the cobblestone path that leads to the palace. But as soon as you’re outside the village proper, your steps slow.

“Mesh’la?” Fives slows as well, “What’s wrong?”

You frown, unable to quite put your finger on what the problem was, “I…I think somethings wrong,” You say slowly, as if testing the words to determine if it’s true or not.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t-” You trail off as you focus on the sensation. You were never a natural at magic like your father, but you can recognize the familiar way that the magic twists around you.

Teleportation.

Panicked, you reach out and place both of your hands on Fives’ chest, and you push. He stumbles back as the magic coils tightly around you, and then pulls.

Magic rushes around you, moving you from one place to another, though the magic is harsh, unlike the soothing magic of your people. And then you stop moving as suddenly as you started.

You fall, and gasp as you're plunged into frigid water.

The water fills your lungs, and you instinctively coil your magic around you, allowing you to return to your mermaid form. You cough some water out of your mouth and the tattered remains of the trousers you were wearing sink to the bottom of the water.

You open your eyes, and realize that you’re not in the ocean, like you worried, but rather seem to be in a massive tank of some kind. A simple glance upward proves that the tank is sealed off, and you have no way to escape.

“Will you be more agreeable now, your majesty?” A silky voice hissed from outside of the tank. You swim closer to the glass and peer out into the room. The person speaking, a man with red and black skin, is not speaking to you. Rather he’s speaking to someone in a tank that’s identical to yours.

You lift your gaze to the tank and there, looking every bit as regal as the last time you saw him, is your father. His chin is lifted, and there’s a look of fury on his face. “If you think that kidnapping my child will force me to give you my magic-” your father growls.

The red and black skinned man sighs, “Unfortunate.” He turns towards your tank, and as he gets closer you realize that he has horns on his head, “Good afternoon, Princess.” He sounds polite, if nothing else. “I am Maul.”

You swim away from the glass, and wrap your arms around yourself, “Let me go.” You say, though there’s uncertainty in your voice.

“I can’t do that. You see, your father has something I want, and I’ve spent the last five years trying to make him give it to me.” Maul says, very reasonably, “You’ll help me get what I want, won’t you Princess.”

You shake your head and back away even more, “No. If my father is keeping it is from you, then he must have a reason.” 

Maul closes his eyes, and releases a sigh that sounds genuinely grieved, “Surely you can be reasonable, Princess.”

There’s the sound of glass cracking, and Maul’s head whips around, “Stop speaking to my child, fiend.” Your father’s voice booms across the small room.

Maul turns his attention back to you, “Your father is stubborn, and because of his stubbornness, he’s been separated from you for five years.” He speaks to you gently, as though he’s speaking to a child. 

Your back bumps against the glass at the back of the tank and you clutch your hands to your chest, “You kept him from me, not him.” You whisper.

Maul’s face goes flat and he turns to your father, “You raised her well,” He concedes, “I thought for sure that I would be able to get her to convince you. Very well, I suppose I’ll have to use force.”

There’s a flicker of something on your father’s face, “Baby. Baby, go to the center of the tank and take off any metal you’re wearing.” His voice is calm, at odds with the words coming out of his mouth.

But, your father’s never lied to you in your life, so swim to the center of the tank, and obediently unfasten the bracelet around your wrist, allowing it to fall to the bottom of the tank.

And just in time too, as you hear the crackle of something, and you look up at the top of your tank, which lights up with electricity. And slowly, the tank lowers into the water.

“...oh.” You squeeze your eyes shut, and curl your arms around yourself and you prepare for pain.

The pain is almost more than you can bear. Your muscles seize up and you sink towards the bottom of the tank. You’re lucky, the water in the tank is moving, so you can still breathe, which means you’re in no danger of drowning.

Not that you’re able to actively think about that, the pain is so blinding that you’re not able to think of anything. It’s like ten thousand white hot knives piercing your entire body simultaneously. 

The pain stops as suddenly as it begins, and you’re trembling at the bottom of the tank. “That hurt, didn’t it.” Maul almost sounds apologetic, “It never has to happen again, so long you convince your father to give me his magic.”

You choke out a silent sob and curl in on yourself, but slowly, painfully, you shake your head.

Maul sighs again, sounding just like your mother at her most disappointed, and slowly lowers the electrified wires into the water. Your screams echo across the small room, and your father, in the tank across the room, looks away.

*******

Your days start going in cycles, there’s pain, and then there’s not pain. The pain always lasts longer than the not pain. And you’re starting to develop burns on your fingertips and fins.

You turn pain-filled eyes to your tail, and carefully examine your fin. You won’t be able to swim with the damage…and you’re not sure the damage will heal without magical aid.

One small mercy is that Maul doesn’t seem overly inclined to let you, or your father, starve. So you get a proper meal two times a day. And those few hours when Maul isn’t around, you and your father are able to talk. 

You don’t talk about a lot, though. The pain lingers, so you talk about easy things. School, your mother, his tower…nothing serious, but he seems relieved to hear anything you have to tell him.

Once more, like clockwork, Maul steps into the tank room. He looks thoughtfully at your father, and then at you. “Today,” He says, “I’m going to apply the current to your tank, and I’m going to leave it there until either your father gives me what I want, or you die.”

You look away from him, and he scoffs, “Remember, you brought this on yourself.”

And then the pain starts.

And, just as suddenly, it stops.

Maul’s face contorts in rage and he turns to your tank, likely to apply the electricity himself, when the door to the tank room explodes inward, knocking Maul to the ground.

Men in white and blue armor burst into the room, and for a moment you feel like you’re going to cry. A handful of the men, led by Captain Rex, chase Maul out of the tank room, and you can hear the sound of fighting in the halls.

But you don’t focus on that, because kneeling in front of your tank is Fives. His helmet is laying somewhere on the ground next to him, “Mesh’la, I’m sorry I’m late.”

“N-not your fault,” You whisper as you slide across the ground closer to the glass, “You still came.”

“Okay, me and Echo will find out how to get the top off this thing and-”

“Fives,” You interrupt, so very gently, “I can’t swim.” You gesture, weakly, to your tail, motioning to the severe burns that would likely leave you unable to swim.

He stares at your tail for a moment, and then closes his eyes. You can see his mind racing, “Okay. Okay then. Move to the back corner, mesh’la. We’re going to break the tank.”

You nod and slowly do as he asks. Fives waits until he’s sure you’re in the back most corner, and then pulls a bottle from a pouch on his hip. He flings it at the front of the tank, and then both he, and Echo, jump up onto the sides of the tank.

The bottle shatters as soon as it hits the tank, and for a moment nothing happens, and then the glass of the front of the tank just…dissolves, and all of the water bursts into the hallway.

You end up halfway out of the tank by the time the water stops moving, and it takes all the strength you can muster to topple yourself out of the tank and onto the hard stone ground. 

You manage to push yourself into a sitting position, and then Fives is in front of you, kneeling in water with his hands on your shoulders. He pulls a blanket from somewhere and wraps it tightly around you, “I need you to turn back into your human form, mesh’la.” His voice is low and frantic, “We can’t stay here.”

You shudder and nod. Your magic coils around yourself and slowly you turn back into a human, though the pain is even worse when you're human. A pain filled sob escapes your lips, and Fives pulls you close. “I have you, mesh’la. I have you.” He pulls you into his arms and cradles you close, “Echo, did you get his majesty free yet?”

“Almost…got it!” The water drains out of the other tank, and as soon as the water is waist level the Mer King takes his human form, and gratefully accepts Echo’s aid in getting out of the tank.

“How did you find us?” The King asks, as he worriedly glances at his daughter.

“Tracking spell,” Fives said, “The Court Wizard made two of them, one for ner mesh’la here,” He lightly jostles you, “And a second one for any merpeople in the nation.”

“We weren’t all that surprised when it turned out you were in the same place. Made a fair bit of sense, honestly.” Echo says as he hands the king a pair of trousers, “It’s all I have, sorry.”

“No, this is fine.” He pulls the pants on and carefully follows the ARC out of the tank room, and then out of the building as a whole.

You cuddle closer to Fives, trembling and hurt, but feeling safe for the first time since you were taken.

**********

One week later, you’re sitting in your room, much upgraded since it came out that you’re royalty, sitting in a massive bathtub in your mer form, as Fives gently adds the healing mixture to the warm water.

“The Court Wizard says that this will help with the pain, but he’s still working on something that will repair the damage,” Fives explains, “He’s reaching out to other nations to see if anyone has any ideas.” He hesitates, “But-”

“But don’t get my hopes up,” You finish quietly.

“It’s too soon to give up, mesh’la,” Fives says just as quietly, “Have a little hope.”

“Have a little hope, but not too much?” You ask, a small smile on your lips.

“Exactly,” Fives replies with an answering smile.

“What’s going to happen to me?”

“Well-”

There’s a knock on the door, and then it clicks open and your father steps into the room, followed closely by the King of Mandalore, Fives’ father, Jango Fett. “I think we’re better suited to answer that,” Jango says smoothly.

“King Jango,” Your father says, “and I have been talking. And he’s agreed to allow you to remain under his protective custody.”

“Until we find out for sure if you’re able to heal or not,” Jango continues with a nod, “If you are, then you’ll be free to stay here or return to your own kingdom.”

“And if I don’t heal?”

“Then you will be an honored guest of Mandalore unless you decide to live elsewhere.” Jango reassures.

“We’re going to have an official embassy in the palace, little one,” Your father says, “So you won’t be lonely.”

“Mother will never stand for it.” You point out, wincing as you shift your tail slightly.

“Unfortunately for your mother, I am King.” Your father’s smile is like ice, “As it happens, I need to have words with her about proper nutrition.” He pauses, and he looks at you, “Are you going to be okay, sweetheart?”

You tilt your head and look at Fives, who flashes a small grin at you, “I think I’ll be okay.” You finally say, “I have Fives after all.”

Fives’ grin becomes blinding, “Well, I’m happy to look out for you. We can always use a Sixth member of Domino-”

“You are not adding a Princess to Domino Squad,” Jango interrupts with a sigh, “Because then all of the other squads will want a princess too, and I’m not dealing with that.”

Your father looks uncomfortable, “Sweetheart-”

“Dad, really. It’s okay. At least this time everyone knows where everyone is.” You flash a slightly crooked smile.

He looks at you, and then at Fives, and then back at you. He looks a little wounded, like he’s just realized something and he doesn’t like it. And this time you laugh.

“Dad,” You shake your head, “It’s not love. Not yet, at least. We’ve only known each other a few weeks after all.”

Fives meets your gaze and something warm crosses his face, “It’ll be fun to figure out though, yeah?” He asks.

And you smile back at him, “Yeah, it’ll be a blast.”

Your father sighs, and he walks over. He leans in and presses a light kiss to your forehead, and then he pulls away and shoots Fives a pointed look, “Behave.”

Fives makes an offended noise, “This is a medical treatment, your majesty. There’s no funny stuff going on over here.”

You giggle and your father shakes his head, before he turns back to Jango, “Well then, I suppose we better finish ironing out the details of this treaty.” He says. 

And Jango just sighs, before the two older men leave the room.

“...so…how long do I have to sit in this?” You ask Fives, once you’re alone.

“30 minutes. Don’t worry, I brought cards and a book.”

You smile at him, soft and warm, “My hero,” there’s no teasing in your voice, and you're rewarded with a small grin and a blush.

“Only for you, ner mesh’la.” Fives replies, his voice tender.

What you said to your father, about it not being love, was true. It’s not love. But it’s only just not love. And now you have the time to figure out if it’ll work or not.

[rexc0re]

They’ll always have each other.

A Serenity Fic

A/N: Haiiiii this is the first fic of Serenity :3 You might have already read this on twitter but I write everything on here and the format is better, I just post there cause it always flops here lol (im so sad), BUT!!! It is here now and eventually there will be a master list for this Au <3 Feel free to send asks with questions or comments Abt the au!!! ENJOY!

Warnings: Blood, Injury, Panic attacks, Angst

Fight back.

I can’t.

They need you.

I’m so tired.

Get up.

He’s alive.

Alive, and awake. On the cold hard floor of the mall. The last thing Sneeg remembered was being thrown to the ground and brutally attacked by that wire monster. Now, here he was. Alive. With a barely recognizable mangled leg but, alive.

Get up. He needed to get up. He needed to find his friends. He needed to make sure they were alright. It took forever but, he eventually got up. Shaky legs, blood pooling, but he was up. God it was so painful to stand. But he had to. He needed to go back. He said he would. He promised.

Sneeg limped through the mall. Past the empty stores. Past every exit he saw even with everything in his body telling him to leave he stayed. He had people to stay for. People he needed to fight to get back and get out with him.

He walked past yet another empty store until he heard it. The cries of agony. The sobs of pain. Charlie’s sobs.

“Fuck…oh god it hurts…This fucking sucks….”

“Charlie? Charlie holy shit it’s you you’re alive!”

“Sneeg?? Is it really you? Oh my god it’s you you’re here you’re here oh my god.”

Sneeg stumbled into the room to find Charlie on the ground, his stomach covered in blood. He was badly injured. But he was alive. Sobbing his eyes out at the sight of Sneeg. But alive. Just ike Sneeg. They were alive. And they had each other.

The hug they shared was gentle yet they held such a strong grip on each other. Charlie couldn’t stop crying, neither could Sneeg. It seemed that everything had been taken from them and they were left to rot away in a mall where no one would find them. Yet, here they are. Alive and with each other. Despite everything, they had each other.

—

The box closed.

I’m bleeding out.

I’m bleeding out.

It’s almost over.

Ranboo was in so much pain he could only think about the sweet ending he was soon to receive. It needed to be over. The ache in his hands, the pounding of his head, and the blood. It was icy cold against the skin which held his spasming muscles. They’ve never felt such discomfort.

The darkness was calling his name. Until the light started to drag them back.

—

They’d been stumbling around the mall for what seemed like hours. So many empty rooms, so many endless halls. No Ranboo. Until the red light drew them in. The unforgiving red stained the walls like blood as it shined out of the room from where it was sourced.

Sneeg and Charlie knew something was wrong. To their dismay, they were right. Upon the back wall of that room was..Ranboo. He was tied to the wall his hands secured with wires that dug into their skin. A box, around their head. Blood, pouring down their chest.

Charlie immediately panics and bursts into tears and limps his way towards Ranboo. “Fuck no nonono sneeg HELP ME SNEEG please god no we have to get it open.” Sneeg stands in shock. Charlie keeps rambling in panic before he turns to Sneeg, his face covered in tears. Through his own tears Sneeg steps forward and attempts to open the box as Charlie frees Ranboos hands.

With a few painful tugs and a slew of curses, Sneeg gets the box open.

—

The ringing won’t stop. There’s light? He’s pretty sure it’s light. Are their eyes open? He can’t tell for some reason. Oh no. He’s falling. Someone’s holding onto them. The ringing still hasn’t stopped. He’s pretty sure his eyes are open but he can’t see. Why can’t they see??

Nononono who’s holding onto them. Who’s touching their hands, their face. He needs to get away. They’re going to hurt him. Ranboo begins to fight back. Kicking, hitting, flailing as hard as he can. Every little movement burns. Everything hurts the bloods still flowing the ringing won’t stop. He. Can’t. See. But the tears and need to leave overpower.

“PLEASE NO LET ME GO PLEASE NONONO DONT TOUCH ME”

The hands hold him down. Someone has their arms around his chest and arms hugging him close to their chest. Another has their hands holding down their legs. He’s held still now but still sobbing and begging to be let go. He can’t be put back into these shows he needs to leave. They’re so weak now, their cries coming out quieter.

“Let me go…please. I promise I won’t tell anyone, please let me go.”

The one holding his arms speaks. He recognizes their voice finally as it registers over the prominent ringing in his ear.

“It’s me Ran, it’s Charlie! I got you, I’ve got you. It’s me and Sneeg I promise we’re not gonna hurt you I know ur scared but it’s us kid it’s okay it’s okay i promise.”

Ranboo hiccups, and gently moves his arms underneath Charlie’s to grab at his hand. Their other arm, trembling, reaches for Sneegs. They both let him hold their hands. Ranboo shifts to lay against Charlie listening to his heart beat and feeling Sneegs through his wrist.

“We’ve got you bud. I told you I’d come back. You’re safe. Relax”

Ranboo still felt so much pain. As he laid in Charlie’s arms. Even when they got in that car and he leaned against Sneeg. The pain was still there, along with the ringing and his lack of vision. But there was also something new. Something they hadn’t felt in a while.

Calm and Peace.

His life had been hell the past three days and the three of them had been through so much. They’d lost everything they had. That mall had stripped them down of everything that made them, them and left them with practically nothing.

But it did leave them with one thing; Eachother. They always had eachother. Throughout it all. And it was then that Ranboo realized something new in the back of that beat up old car.

He was always going to have his brothers. Charlie and Sneeg. They were always going to have each other. And with that they were always going to be safe. They brought each other safety, love, and one very important thing.

Serenity.

[doiefy]

crimson watercolour // johnny seo

genre: body horror, biopunk, cyberpunk

member: just john lol sorry

warnings: coarse language (or not, I don’t really remember), blood, gore, self-mutilation (not mental health or self-harm related, it’s just a gory sci-fi plot point), barely proofread but I think it’s passable.

note: a spooky little piece i decided to do as i’m making massive changes to my ‘fight or flight’ series… partial spoilers but i don’t expect to be finishing the first fic any time soon, and i feel like it’s not for the tumblr demographic anyways LOL (ao3 here i come). sort of bloody and gory stuff ahead, you have been warned.

*****

MIDNIGHT IN THE WEST LANES OF THE QUARRY, wrapped tightly in the arms of sin and vice: Johnny had found himself in a gnarly predicament.

He slid to the ground spewing profanities, his backside meeting the metal of the door mere seconds after it had slammed shut. The entire thing shook beneath his weight, protesting further when he threw his head back against it. Blunt force hammering into his skull, pain burying deep into his head and racing down his spine like a current—just a precursor for a long, long night.

He did it again, to be sure, pitching backward until he heard a sickening thump. It hurt less now. Good. Then he brought the tin can back up to his lips and finished the rest of his drink, grimacing when he felt grains of sand on his tongue. Peering into the bottom of the now-empty can, he found jagged edges of metal soaked in a discoloured foam. A suspicious crimson stain sat at the bottom, as if the bartender—last seen suffering from the dryness of the Lanes and a badly-split lip—had spat in Johnny’s cup before filling it with lukewarm beer.

No matter, he thought, mustering a condescending sneer. They were no strangers to disease and illness on the streets of the Quarry, and he had a multitude of other issues to worry about: beginning with a group of men somewhere on the other side of the door, all hellbent on tearing him from limb to limb. Leraje had made good promise of carving his face into a gargoyle, if he ever got his hands on him.

Suppose Johnny would just have to do it himself, first.

His reflection awaited him in the bathroom mirror, rough and fatigued, somewhat of a hazy memory. Not quite him. Not perfect, hardly recognizable to most. A softer jawline and heart-shaped face that certainly made him feel foreign in his own body. His eyes were a little meaner than he remembered, bright red and angular like a pair of garnets. His lips were drawn back in a sharp scowl, not entirely to his liking. But it was effective enough around these parts, able to fit him perfectly into the crowd of lowlife party-goers and spiteful drunks.

Working quickly, he slipped out of his jacket and tossed it onto the counter. His shirt followed, pulled over his head in one smooth motion and discarded haphazardly. He debated, for just a second, whether it would be necessary to carve the ink out of his shoulder. For as long as he’d been in hiding, it was the one part of him left recognizable, never altered, never defaced.

“Short, scrawny, black-haired, blue-eyed. Bird tattoo on his arm.”

“Tall-ish, muscular. Black hair. Swallow tattooed on his left shoulder.”

For someone they wanted to kill so badly, they could never paint the right picture.

“He’s got a cute little birdie on his shoulder,” Jungwoo had once said—directly to Johnny’s face, completely unaware that his bounty was right in front of him. “Seen anyone like that recently?”

“No,” Johnny had responded with a snide curl of his lip. He’d tossed a handful of change onto the counter without regard, all whilst holding a blade to the neck of a man hidden below him. It was the small, wiry bartender he’d robbed just moments prior, whose clothes and identity he’d assumed when Jungwoo’s goons backed him into a corner. “Now get the fuck out of my bar.”

The Assembly had been hunting him for sport, like the uber rich topsiders hunted game in the summertime. Johnny had eluded them at every turn only by the skin of his teeth.

By his skin, flesh and bones, by the breaking and tearing of his own body to conform to whatever illusions necessary.

He studied his face for a few moments before taking the knife from his pocket: a handy contraption he’d built himself, with dual blades that could be deployed with the click of a button. Click, like a mechanical pencil. A thin sliver of metal emerged from his hand, gleaming, thrilled to see light again, already on its way to mark the canvas like it had a mind of its own.

It was quick enough. Two symmetrical slashes, one down each side of the face, from the undereye to the hollows of his cheekbone. Deep, painful, nicking something solid on the second stroke. The ink were a deep, glistening red colour, streaking down to his collarbone.

No sooner than he’d begun to bleed, the loose ends of his skin began to knit together. Cells into fibres into tissue into muscle—spiralling into place, regenerating, remodelling. And when they’d smoothed over into patches of new skin, there was a sharpness to his face that hadn’t been there prior.

Though not quite enough.

Again, the knife came. This time below the first cuts, deeper. Harder. Hitting bone purposefully. He hissed as a white-hot sear burst on his vision, lurching forward to clutch at the edge of the counter—before he flipped the blade around his hand and went for more. The thin scalpel now replaced by a thick blade, he drew. An artist hard at work, immersed in their vision, simply could not be stopped. A splatter of red met the floor.

He stopped only to observe. To critique. It looked too much like a past persona: the eyes too small, the mouth too low, the expression still far too cynical, like the bartender facade he’d used to fool Jungwoo. So he relaxed his brow, contorted his features to where he wanted them to be, used his fingers and a smidge of his own blood to mark where he would cut. This was detailed work, after all. He didn’t have time to measure precisely, surely, but he wasn’t a heathen.

Thud. A violent sound behind him; the door shuddered on its hinges, causing Johnny to momentarily lose control of the blade. He felt it cut deep into the corner of his eye and sever a half dozen vessels. Yet there was no fear—it wouldn’t have been the first time he gouged his own eye out, if he was a few millimetres off. There was only a certain irritation at the disruption.

“Someone in there?” a familiar voice called from outside. It was loud and booming, robotic in some strange way, almost as if it’d been fed to a machine first. But above all, it was taunting. “You’ve been in there a long time, friend… Do you need any help? The drink wasn’t too… strong, was it?”

Damn Kim Jungwoo and his timing. Clenching his jaw, Johnny ran the tap and splashed water onto his face. His blood splattered across the sink like crimson watercolour being flung across a canvas. With drenched hands, he slicked his hair back and redressed, then picked up his empty can.

He considered himself an artist in many regards. He had an aptitude for lies and trickery unlike any other. He had lived the lives of upwards of a hundred characters—all hand-drawn, hand-sculpted with the finest material, created with intention and nuance and all, never hollow or useless. The flesh and bone were only the first movement; performance was the second, even if it humiliated him to his core. Johnny believed himself to be an actor suited for centre stage and spotlight, but seldom could he claim his rightful place. Not now. Not yet.

When he flung the bathroom door open a few moments later, he emerged drunk and deranged, tipping over and grabbing onto the first person he saw. A symphony of distasteful club music and voices roared for his entrance, and he thundered above it, spitting and sputtering like an animal.

Within seconds, Jungwoo had flung him aside. They were here for the man with the bird tattoo, not this fool. So Johnny tripped past several party-goers and tumbled to the ground, yet never letting go of his tin can. Then he sat amidst stomping feet and the smell of sweat, feeling the symphony vibrate his bones, laughing until he choked. Part of it was for show; the Assembly wouldn’t bother with someone who looked like him. Part of it was to revel in his victory. In the victories to come.

For one day, he would cast aside all the characters and performances, then rise above them.