#i also wanted a character with black hair and purple eyes and those tattoos

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐄𝐌𝐎 𝐁𝐎𝐘! ❞

❝ COME ON, FUCK ME, EMO BOY!! ❞

✧ pairing: emo boy! choso kamo x f!reader ✧ summary: saw this boy at the mall last week. got the kind of look to make me freak. wanna fuck in the back of the hot topic? ✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, so much smut, emo boy! choso, sex toys (vibrators, clit sucker), multiple orgasms, semi-exhibitionism, public sex (sex in the back of hot topic, sex in a changing room), fingering (f! receiving), oral (f! + m! receiving), big dick choso (but honey, that dick was 11 inches), also mahito + yuji make appearances, art by @/SS_utr3n. ✧ wc: 5.3K

It had been a while since you had stepped into a Hot Topic (a while meaning three days or three years, take your pick). But this had been the third time this week you had been to this specific Hot Topic, and now you were sure the manager of the place had your badly taken picture and description scrawled in some notebook as a potential shoplifter. 

But it wasn’t the merchandise you were looking to pick up. 

It was him. 

You saw him when you were browsing the clearance rack, knelt down, evaluating whether you needed another blind box item that will inevitably not contain the character you were looking for (but on the plus side, it was on sale?), when you heard a deep voice speak. 

“Excuse me,” you glance up as you spot him — and you swear your breath gets stuck somewhere between your windpipe and your lungs, because you don’t breathe while this man kneels down next to you to place more items on clearance. Spiky black locks tied up messily on either side, fringe bangs falling in front of his face as he bent down, a tattoo across the bridge of his nose and was that — dark purple eyeshadow around his eyes — and his eyes — god, his eyes were gorgeous, a deep dark brown — and you swore, was that a hint of purple in his irises? 

He was everything that your teen self had wanted — the same guys whose profiles you had looked at growing up and thought were so hot. You caught a glance at the My Chemical Romance t-shirt as he stood, in black jeans, as he catches you staring, “Can I help you find something?” His tone was casual, but he was curious — probably curious why you were staring at him with wide-eyed saucers. 

“No, no, sorry, I—” no, don’t tell the hot Hot topic worker that he is hot — first of all its confusing, second of all— “I just wanted to say, I like your t-shirt,” 

Fuck. out of all the things to say — I like your style, I like your fit, I like your hair — you had to pick the most generic ass comment. 

He only nods, but you catch the barest upward twitch of the corner of his lip, “thanks,” 

And that’s all it took — you now needed to see him smile. 

Over the next few days innocently shopping at Hot Topic, you find out his name is Choso from one of the other workers, Mahito, calling his name. His hair is usually in those buns, but one of the days his hair was down, and you heard him complain that his hair ties had snapped. 

And his hair looked so good down, his long inky locks fell past his shoulders, but this was your chance to talk to him — “i have some extra hair ties, if you want them,” you offer him a few hair ties, “I overheard you talking with the other worker, I hope you don’t mind,” 

And he shakes his head, his lips quirked in that almost smile that makes your heart squeeze. 

Fuck. 

“Not at all, thank you,’ and his fingers brush yours as he takes the hair ties, and you turn to leave, but his voice stops you, “what was your name? I didn’t catch it last time,” 

You tell him, smiling, “Your name is Choso, right? I saw it on your nametag,” and he’s biting his lip, tilting his head in question, as you flush, cheeks burning, “I’ve noticed you a couple times when I’ve come in— not in a weird way, I just—” 

“I’ve noticed you too,” and finally he’s smiling — and you know he’s got you, you know you’re fucked. 

And you do get fucked — in the back of Hot Topic during his break. 

It had been a few weeks of you two talking and flirting, until finally, during his break he’s got you snuck into the back to show you the merchandise they haven’t put out yet. And you scoff when you come across a bullet vibrator, “you guys sell these?” 

He shrugs, “They started to in the last few years, not a lot. They don’t want the parents to become too outraged, but just enough,” And you snort, turning the bullet over in your fingers curiously, “have you never used one before?” 

And your cheeks burn, as you bite your lip, “No I never have,” and the next question stumbles out as a joke, “why? Wanna help me learn?” And you want to bite your tongue, but you’re too busy with the foot in your mouth to do so, and before you can apologize he speaks. 

“I would,” 

And your eyes snap to his, and you realize how close he’s standing, his eyes not filled with humor but something else — lust? — and his lips curled in a small smile. 

Fuck. 

“You’re gonna have to be a little quieter, love,” he’s murmuring in your ear, pressing kisses to your neck, as you’re pressed between his firm chest and the metal storage rack, fingers laced as you held on, the vibration between your thighs the only thing ringing in your ears. 

But how can you be quiet? 

The bullet vibrator is pressed right against your clit, and his thick fingers are parting your folds, so close to sinking into you, his deep voice whispering in your ear, hot breath against your neck. 

And the coil in your stomach is only growing tighter and tighter, and your squeals only grow more and more insistent. His fingers sunk into your mouth, “suck,” he ordered, and your cunt twitches at the demand, as you do, sucking and licking messily on his fingers, “good girl,” 

And he clicks the button of the vibrator again, increasing the vibration, making your eyes widen, a gasp around his fingers, “so responsive,” he groans, as your legs grow weak, and he’s stepping forward to steady you, but it also settles his dick between your ass. 

He’s huge. 

The bulge presses into you, drawing a hiss from his lips as you lean back against it, “Trying to tease me, sweetheart?” And he’s pulling his fingers from his mouth, a string of spit connecting from his fingers to your lips, “don’t forget who’s teaching you,” and he sinks his spit soaked fingers into your needy cunt, making your back arch into his body, “so tight, despite the vibrator,” he hums.

“Choso, please—” and he starts to fuck his fingers in and out, the squelch of your cunt ringing in your ears mixing with the buzz of the vibrator — you’re already so close, “I'm—” 

“Cum for me,” he’s grunting, as his fingers reach even deeper inside you, dragging against your walls as he curls them, finding that one spot that has you seeing stars. And your moan as you cum is stifled against your own palm, as he only maxes out the vibration and fucks you through your orgasm, “one more for me, pretty, you can do it,” 

“No, no, Choso, please too much, can’t—” and he only presses sweet kisses to your neck, and how are you already close — you just had orgasmed, but the coil in your stomach is growing tighter by the second, and you’re nearly crying when you cum again, your slick dripping down his fingers and the vibrator as he eases it from you, and then splatters onto the dirty tile floor of the backroom of Hot Topic.

“Good girl,” he murmurs as he’s tilting your head back and around for a kiss. And you catch a glimpse of the glint of your release on his black painted nails as he presses the pads into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his digits and sucking them clean, “that’s it, clean up your mess f’me,” and his other hand is wiping the tears from your eyes, “so pretty when you cry — can’t wait to make you do it again.”

Your cunt twitches at the thought, your cum still dripping down your thighs, “Again?” and he’s pressing another sinful kiss to your lips, “You didn’t think this would be our only lesson, did you?” 

And it wasn’t — the next lesson was spent in the fitting rooms, during a particular dead early afternoon in the store — and he had you spread on the fitting room bench, your black jeans pulled down to your ankles, as his head found its way between your thighs. You could barely hold back your whimpers as he pressed all too hot kisses to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, burning already with his warm breath. It was too much. 

He was too much. 

“How’s that feel?” dark eyes flicking up to meet yours, half lidded with lust, as he watches your panting face, your head against the wall of the fitting room, “use your words, love,” 

“Too good, Cho-so,” the last syllable of his names escapes your lips in a gasp, as your cunt twitches as his lithe fingers tease you through the soaked material of your panties, “please, please, need you,” 

“What do you need?” and his fingers pull away, as his lips press a kiss to your puffy clit, pulling a whine from you, “what do you want me to do?” 

“Please, just—” and he’s tugging your panties aside, cool air rushing over your all too hot pussy, “please just touch me — with your fingers or mouth—” 

And his tongue drags over your messy cunt, and god, it feels too good — but a twinge makes you pause, and when you feel it draw a circle around your clit, you realize what it is — he has a tongue piercing. Your fingers thread their way in his black locks, resisting the urge to grab at his hair buns. 

He grunts, vibrations against your wet cunt, as you pull him impossibly closer to where you needed him most, his nose bumping against your clit, “you smell so good — how’s that possible?” and your eyes squeeze shut as his hands press your thighs further apart. 

That’s when you both hear the click of the entrance, and the door swinging shut — shit, the door — he forgot to lock it. Forgot when you had pulled him into a kiss right when he was ready to take a lunch break, all other thoughts had flown out of his brain once he let those doors swing shut and your lips had met his — well, left his brain and flooded southward. He also didn’t think a customer would be persistent enough to try the door and wander in when the doors were shut and the closed sign was hung up. 

“Choso, should we—” and the footsteps draw closer — and fuck — did you get wetter? And tighter — his moan is muffled against your walls, “Choso, stop, we—” 

“You don’t mean that,” he whispers, dark, half lidded eyes look up at you, your essence and his spit soaking his lips and dripping down his chin. And the footsteps are receding, the sounds of the shuffling and clinking of clothes hangers on racks in the distance, but all you can hear are the sounds of the wet, needy squelch of your cunt, “you aren’t being honest — but you are down here,” and his lips find your clit, sucking lightly, making your head jerk back, “want them to know how good I make you feel,” his lips leave your clit with a small pop, before murmuring against the soft skin of your thigh, “be quiet for me, baby,” and his tongue slips back into your cunt. 

He’s nearly slurping your juices up, his tongue tasting every inch of you, deliciously dragging against your twitching walls with his piercing, as your toes curl and your mouth parts in a muffled moan, one hand clamped over your mouth, and the other digging into his scalp. How could the person not hear you? How couldn’t they hear the wet squelch of your cunt as Choso fucked it with his tongue? How couldn’t they hear your badly swallowed moans and the sounds of your heart pounding out of your chest — and if they did, they certainly didn’t care enough to stop browsing through the fucking store. 

And you’re close, so fucking close, and you don’t hear the footsteps drawing close to the fitting rooms because your ears only can hear the wet suck of his mouth against your clit or the press of his tongue in and out of your folds, your thighs twitching under his grasp, fingers pressed into your flesh, “Choso, I’m so—” 

“Cum f’me, need to feel you cum around my tongue,” he sucks on your clit hard, teeth grazing the sensitive spot, and you cum, hard, your hand forsaking your lips to find purchase on his head, squirting all over his face as you did, soaking him along with the bench of the fitting room. And you can’t help the whimpers and moans that left your lips, as he lapped up your release without a care. 

And you slump against the wall of the fitting room, body still buzzing from your orgasm, as he finally pulls his tongue out, glancing up at you. Your chest heaves as you watch him lick your cum from his lips and chin, before wiping the rest away, and your eyes drift downward to the erection he was palming. And your fingers unconsciously reach for it, when your hear a door slam shut making your both jump. 

You cover your mouth — the customer, and Choso’s eyes meets yours, as the two of you break out in a laugh, “Fucking lock the door next time,” you sigh, covering your burning face with your hands, as Choso chuckles, lips curled in a smile.

“So there’s going to be a next time?” he tilts his head, and you flush. 

How could he go from eating you out like a desperate man without water to this innocent puppy? “Not if you don’t lock the door,” 

“It’s their fault for coming in when the doors were closed and there was a sign that said closed in big letters on the door,” and you shake your head, as he draws closer, “now, I have twenty minutes of lunch left — so where were we?” 

And you push him towards the changing room door, “Go lock the door first,” and he relents, chuckling. 

“Just for that, I’m going to look for the clit sucker I couldn’t find before.” 

~~~~

The two of you had fallen into a pattern. 

And you had become a regular at Hot Topic. You hung around him as he stocked the shelves, did inventory, price re-labeling, and even as he spoke to customers. You watched other customers speak to Choso, even flirt with him, but he never cracked a smile. Two girls were very persistent, but they deflated as he walked away after answering their questions, brushing past you, his hand brushing against your ass discreetly. Heat rushes to your cheeks, your head snapping to him as his lips curl when your eyes catch his gaze. But even so…

You still were just as clueless of where you stood with him as you were when this started. 

“You two have been pretty hot and heavy lately, huh?” you nearly jump out of your skin, as Mahito smiles knowingly at you, leaning against the counter with a shiteating grin. 

“What are you—” 

“Please, like we don’t know what goes on in the back during breaks?” he raises an eyebrow, as you bite your lip, “plus, never have I seen that gloomy guy smile, much less as much he does with you,” 

“Really?” your eyes find him again, as he crouches and lines up blind boxes on one of the shelves — but you can’t help the nagging question circling in the back of your mind — why hasn’t he asked you out yet? The two of you have hooked up, in and out of the store, but he still hadn’t asked you on a date. Even in the last few weeks, the two of you hadn’t even spent any real time together, except for your visits to the store -- he hasn't even taken you into the back. For all you know, you’re one of many people he’s bedding. Even if he doesn’t seem the type. 

“What? Trouble in paradise?” Mahito pulls you from your thoughts, head tilted and all too eager, “what’s wrong?” 

“No, it’s—“ he cuts you off with a look, and you relent with a slight pout, “he just hasn’t asked me out yet, I’m just wondering what he’s thinking—“ 

“Well, I definitely don’t think he’s seeing anyone else,” he hums, “but he does tend to go straight home a lot when you’re not around. Maybe something is going on at home?” And then he’s pushing you towards him, “no time like the present to find out,” 

“Mahito—“ 

“Choso! How about you and your favorite regular go for a quick walk and get us some drinks from the food court?” He grins, offering some money,  “be a doll, won’t you?” 

Choso sighs, “Fine,” and he brushes past you, taking the cash, before glancing back at you, “you coming?” 

You glance between the two of them, before following him out of the store. You both walk in relative silence, slipping past customers, as you reach the food court. Choso orders, paying with the cash Mahito gave, as he passes you one of the drinks, “Choso, can I ask you something?” 

His eyes slide to you, “Of course,” and god, his eyes stop your thoughts in their tracks — he’s so unfairly gorgeous, funny, sweet — you didn’t want to screw this up. You open your mouth to speak when you hear a voice. 

“Big bro, that you?” A rush of pink hair and energy is wrapped around Choso all of a sudden, “I didn’t think you got off until later,” it’s a teen boy, maybe fifteen or sixteen, his arm wrapped around Choso, and a varsity jacket on — this was Choso’s brother?

Choso cracked his rare smile, “I don’t get off until later, Yuji, but I came to grab a drink for Mahito,” and Yuji’s gaze slides to you. 

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t see you there,” he smiles a thousand watt smile, “I’m Yuji Itadori, Choso’s brother,” and he’s glancing between you and his brother, before his mouth falls into an ‘o,’ “are you his girlfriend?” 

“Yuji—“ Choso starts, a hint of a blush across his cheeks, as you stifle a laugh, “I thought you said you were going to study at home with Fushiguro.” 

“I wanted to see you when your shift got off — I thought we could have dinner together,” Yuji pouts, and Choso cracks in an instant, his lips curling. 

This boy had his brother wrapped around his finger. 

“Ok, but don’t goof off. Make sure to study,” and Yuji nods. 

“Nice to meet you,” and he leans in to whisper, “treat my brother good, ok?” And you flush, before nodding, as Choso raises an eyebrow, out of earshot. 

“I will,” 

“Cho, tell Mahito to fuck off for me,” and he’s off again, gone as fast as he came.

“Sorry about that,” Choso sighs, still a smile on his lips as he watches his brother in the distance, claiming one of the food court tables for himself and his friend, as he sits down next to a black haired boy, assumedly Fushiguro, “didn’t know Yuji would be here,” 

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” and he bites his lip. 

“It’s relatively new — we’re half brothers, but he just came back into my life. He doesn’t really have any other biological family. His grandfather just passed, and he’s staying with a teacher whose decided to foster him,” the two of you begin to walk back to the store, his gaze fixed downwards at the tacky mall carpeting, “he’s been staying with me for the last few weeks, while his foster father went on a vacation to Malaysia,” 

And now the pieces were clicking into place, “And that’s why you’ve been going home a lot lately,” and his dark eyes find yours with a tilt of his head, “I mean, you just haven’t had a lot of time lately,” you can’t meet his gaze, “it must be a lot to have a teenager staying with you.” 

“Yeah, he eats everything in the house, and he’s staying in my living room, which leaves little in the way of privacy,” and you can still feel the prickle of his gaze on you, “but I could use a break,” and you finally look and see a soft expression on his face, the same insecurity you had reflected in his gaze. 

No time like the present, right?

“Well, should we maybe go on a date?” and his cheeks flush a pretty red, all the way to the tips of his ears, “we’ve done plenty of other things that a couple would do, like—” 

And he’s shaking his head, “I know, I know!” he’s the one who can’t meet your eyes now, chewing his lip, “I’d like that — I get off my shift tonight at eight, I told Yuji we’d hang out, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind postponing—” 

“We can always do it tomorrow, I don’t want to keep you from your brother,” and his lips curl into a smile, “he’s a good kid,” 

“He is,” and his fingers find yours again, “I can tell Mahito that I’ll lock up tonight, and maybe after I do, we could—” 

“Have another lesson?” 

And eight o’clock rolls around far too slow, but Choso definitely isn’t moving slow when it’s only the two of you. 

He’s pulling you into the back again, the door swinging shut behind the two of you, his fingers tight around your wrists as he’s pulling you into a bruising kiss, forcing your lips to part with a gasp, his tongue flicking against yours. The smooth surface of his piercing grazes against your tongue. 

And his fingers find the back of your neck, deepening the kiss impossibly, as his other hand slips down the curves of your body, pulling you against him, his clothed cock brushing against your aching cunt. 

Fuck. You had almost forgotten how big he was. 

And when you hear the zipper of his black jeans, you nearly melt against him, “Choso, please—” 

“I have to get you ready first, love,” his fingers find their way to the front of your jeans and undo the button, tugging the fabric down to your ankles. Cool air raises goosebumps across your skin, the pads of his fingers press against the wet patch of your panties, and he’s groaning, “but maybe I don’t,” 

“Fuck, so wet for me, aren’t you?” he murmurs, as he’s walking you backwards, into one of the racks, his fingers press into the soft flesh of your thighs. And two fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear, joining your jeans, pooling around your ankles, “nearly ready now, but I still have to loosen you up,” his fingers tease your outer lips, dripping with your release. 

One of his finger’s slips in with practiced ease, making your hips jolt against his hand, your fingers curling around the metal bars of the rack in front of you. His finger was so much thicker and longer than yours, his digit toyed with your walls, teasing and stretching until he drew a soft groan from your lips. He was the only one who could make you this desperate, his lips pressed against your neck, the heat from his body has your mind reeling with pleasure. 

“Mmm, Choso, more—" and he’s adding another finger inside your still all too tight entrance, making you whimper, as the intrusion is all too much after a few weeks of not having him inside you. 

“So greedy,” he murmurs, the wet squelch of your cunt ringing in your ears, “you’re practically sucking me in, but it’s still not enough for you, is it?” his tongue drags against the outer shell of your ear, his piercing against your skin, before his mouth envelops your earlobe and sucks. 

His fingers are fucking you open, your eyes screwed shut as the tips brush against that spot, heat flooding your body. And you don’t hear the shuffling of his other hand through a box, until you hear the sound of sucking, “Choso—“ and he’s pressing the sucker against your clit, your mouth falling open as pleasure rips up your spine, the sucking sensation with the lewd noises of your pussy being finger fucked is too much. 

You cum all over his hand, your hand clamping over your mouth so no one hears your moans — and your legs quake as you come down from your high, as he eases his fingers from you, “so pretty,” he murmurs, and you can feel his dark, lidded eyes on your drenched cunt, watching your sticky release cling to his fingers, purple painted nails glinting in the low light. 

And he’s leaning forward, kissing down your back, as he turns you around gently, so your back is pressed against the rack. You kick off your underwear and pants. You’re still panting, chest rising and falling as his fingers press to your chin, lifting it so you meet his gaze, as he sucks his fingers clean of your cum. Heat pools again, as his fingers undo the leather belt and he’s tugging his jeans and black boxers down to his knees, his erection springs out, slapping against his stomach. 

Your mouth runs dry. 

Fuck, he’s even bigger than you thought. 

Ten inches? No, maybe eleven. How was that even possible? That shit would break you — but fuck — your cunt twitches — you kind of want it to break you. 

“Like what you see, Princess?” you lick your lips in response, and in a trance, your fingers are reaching for him, curling around the base before you slowly start to pump him. You’re rewarded with a moan, a noise that goes straight to your cunt, as your fingers move faster, trying to find the right rhythm. Pre-cum leaks from the top, as you tease his tip, before stroking back up the length of it. 

And he’s a beautiful mess, his pale features flushed a gorgeous red, as he presses his hand against his mouth so his moans wouldn’t resonate. And his pre-cum drips all over your fingers, slipping down your wrist even, as you lean forward to lick it off your own skin, while you meet his gaze. 

His head lolls back, eyes screwed shut now, and your fingers drift to his sack, stroking and teasing while your lips find the tip, sucking lightly before your tongue drags over the length of his cock. And god, he’s going to blow his load now, if you keep doing that, from the way his hips rock against your touch. 

His fingers weave into your hair, nails digging into your scalp, “Baby, ngh, it’s too good—fuck—” he’s so close, twitching in your mouth as you suck him from tip to base, tracing his slit with the tip of your tongue, “shit, I can’t—” and you suck hard on his cock, massaging his balls, and he’s gone — he’s pumping his cock into your mouth as his cum spurts down your throat, as you swallow it all too greedily. You pull away with a pop, a string of cum and saliva connecting you to his dick still, before you wipe it away. 

He’s leaning against the rack, chest heaving as he watches you with lust blown out eyes, sweat sheen on his face, “Haa, baby, s’good f’me,” and somehow he’s still hard, as you rise to your feet, thighs pressed together, your eyes fixed on his cock, “you don’t have to—” 

And he’s still so sweet — his eyebrows knit together as he’s examining you with concern, but you’re only shaking your head, as you press a sweet kiss to his lips, “I need you, Choso, please,” and he’s nodding, lips meeting yours in a heady kiss that steals your breath, and he’s made you brace yourself against the rack, fingers curled around the cool metal. 

Your folds are exposed to him, slick and dripping, even wetter than before, “You liked sucking me off that much, love?” he murmurs, kissing your neck, before he’s dragging the tip of his cock against your needy cunt, “I’ll go slow,” he assures you, as you nod. 

He’s sinking into you inch by inch — and not even halfway, you already feel like you’re ready to burst, “So big, Choso, I—” and he’s murmuring quiet reassurances, as he’s parting your folds, the pain drawing a gasp from your lips, as he finally bottoms out. 

“S’good, baby, so tight,” he’s moaning, You’re taking deep breaths, pain ebbing with each second that passes. Choso pressing sweet kisses to your neck, his hands slipping under your shirt to tease your perked nipples, mixing pain with pleasure. Tears burn at your tear ducts, as you breathe shaky breaths, and finally pain ebbs away, and pleasure grows in its place.

“S’full, so big,” you pant, growing more needy by the second, he’s reaching places you’d only dreamt of — his leaking tip kissing your cervix, “move, p-please—ah!” 

And he does as you say, pulling ever so slowly out before pushing back in, grunting as he does as your tight cunt adjusts to his size and length — bullying your insides in a way no toy could ever compare to. You swear you can feel every inch, every curve, every vein as he rocks into you. 

“So pretty f’me,” he’s moaning, stifled by his bitten lip, as your walls only seem to pull him back deeper each time he pulls out,  “so perfect, take me so well,” he’s murmuring, as he teases your tits between his thumb and forefinger, “pretty cunt made just for me, isn’t that right, Princess?” 

“Yes, yes, Choso,” and his pace only grows faster, just as his groans grow louder. 

“No one else can fuck you like this, make you feel this good, can’t wait to feel you cummin’ around me,” he’s panting, his fingers tweaking your nipples, squeezing, as he fucks you deeper and deeper, his tip hitting your cervix deliciously again and again, “feels s’good, so wet and warm for me—” his hand comes down on your ass now, making you gasp, your cunt squeezing around him. 

Drool slips from your mouth, as you get closer and closer to cumming — the telltale flutter of your walls, “Choso, I’m coming, I can’t—” 

“Cum for me, let me fill you up,” and his fingers reach around to press a vibrator to your clit, and you’re cumming, falling apart on his cock, as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. The squelch of your cunt and the way you squeeze him has him falling apart, spurting and painting your walls. 

The two of you slump forward, your legs nearly buckling, as you cling to the rack, before he’s easing both of you back onto a bench in the stock room. Your quiet pants fill the silence of the room, as he eases himself out, groaning as you both watch your mixed releases leak out of your cunt. 

“I don’t think I can walk after that,” and he chuckles in your ear, pressing a kiss to your neck. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll carry you,” and you laugh, his favorite noise in the world, as you slowly turn, making him groan as your soaked pussy grinds against his dick. 

“So then you can lift me up when I drop it?” your lips are curled in that same smile that had him hypnotized from the moment he saw it, and he can only reply with a bruising kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth, as you sunk yourself onto his dick again. 

God. He needed to buy you tickets to Warped Tour. 

~~~

The next time you show up to Hot Topic, you weren’t showing up to buy any merchandise. 

“Hey emo boy!” you call out, making Choso turn with a smile on his lips — the one especially reserved for you. 

“Hi baby,” he murmurs, kissing you softly, his arm around your waist, “I’m almost done. I just have to punch out.” 

You lean in, words whispered against his ear, “And then you’re gonna come fuck me?” 

You were picking up your boyfriend. 

He smiles, wrapping an arm around your waist, before kissing you again, “You know I will.” 

note: i couldn't find who made this incredible art that i used after searching and searching, so if anyone knows, please let me know so i can credit them above in the description. this fic has been a long time coming since that silly blurb i wrote after watching one too many thirst edits of choso. edit: i found the artist: its @/SS_utr3n on twt!!!

tag list: @uroldall, @jlovesfrogs, @existential54321, @staryukis, @samistars, @chosoilysm, @astroholic, @emii4evr, @rose1238, @butterflieskeepcominback, @divinely-yourz, @fishii28, @seresukuin, @misalsmistake, @xkaidaxxxx, @cappric, @famebydefinition, @theatergeek, @sousblogga, @averagelonelypotato, @timesnewreader, @chrvstxl, @darylthekidd, @merelydaydreaming, @notafan77, @naughtygobbo, @smiley-babe, @butterflieskeepcominback, @entirelytoooobsessed, @acenanxious

[rindragon-from-twewy]

Forte swap au character intros part 2!!!

I love these so much genuinely I'm just so happy with where my art style's been at recently!

Ok I have a lot to say so it's under the cut. Remember; Spoilers for the og story!

I'll go from right to left since that's the order I designed them in (buckle in, this is a long one-)

Fubuki now has Spectral Projection. I liked the idea of giving it to her as she and Vivia are basically polar opposites so giving her his forte would really shake things up. Instead of calling her "Princess" and stuff, I think people would rather call her "Sleeping Beauty" and the themes of that fairy tale would end up seeping in to chapter 4, as well as its mystery labyrinth. Her hair flower is now a rose as a further reference to that. I used nightwear as references for her clothes, imagining them mostly being made out of more silky fabrics for that "rich girl" aura. I kept her hair down and messy and really just focused on making her look comfy. After all, if she's sleeping all the time, she should be in the appropriate attire for doing so, no? But thankfully The Chief gave her some wellie boots so she's not running around the city in soggy slippers. Her tattoos are now a string of stars on her collar bones to further emphasise the idea of dreams/sleep and also the "Z" in her name stands for "Zzz" because I thought they'd be funny. The last name "Bramble" is not only another reference to roses and sleeping beauty but also to Bram Stoker, the author of Dracula because yes, the vampire themes have been ripped away from Vivia and given to Fubuki instead!

Moving on to Halara- I knew right away that by giving them Time Leap, I should make them look more like a time traveller. Initially I wanted to try to make them look like they'd fit in well with the line up for the various Doctors in Doctor Who but unfortunately I couldn't figure out a way to do that without just... putting them in one of the outfits. So I instead decided to use steampunk as a main reference. I like to think that they stare at their pocket watch just to ignore people or as a passive aggressive way of telling them that they're wasting time. Their shoulder tattoo is meant to vaguely resemble an hour glass since that seemed appropriate. I had no idea what I wanted to do for their shirt under their coat so I settled on that black turtleneck tank top that makes the fangirls go crazy and made sure to give them Fubuki's necklace so that they can use their forte! The hardest part was deciding to give Halara goggles instead of glasses. They just seemed wrong without their glasses but it was just as wrong to have glasses and goggles? And so I settled on no glasses. (Mostly cuz I forgot to add them in and by then, I was used to looking at their empty face lol-) When they first arrived in Kanai Ward, Chief gave them the frilliest umbrella at the store because it had the same colours as their coat. Lastly, for their name chance, I changed it to "Clocksmith". It's the name of the profession for a watch mender, similar to Clockford and also "Smith" is the last name The Doctor uses when he needs to use a fake human name.

I'll be deadass, I did Vivia's design at like 3am and was running purely on vibes. So there isn't much perpousful intention behind him like the others. His hair now covers his left eye to make using Post Cognition much easier (sometimes it just activates on its own thanks to his eye already being obscured) but just underneath it you can see his tattoo; a big purple tear streak. I think I was watching a fnaf video at the time so. Marionette reference. Now you may be asking: Why is his hoodie so cropped? Why are his trousers so low cut? Idk- because I think it looks cool? I probably should've (and will in future) give him more bandages around his torso cuz looking at it now, that's not really that many. His big sleeves cover his hands and yes, I know that combining those sleeves with that stances just screams "Hatsune miku", that was completely accidental but I'm kinda here for it??? Gave him like 9 belts cuz I like drawing belts and I feel like his suicial ass would've been put in a real straight jacket at least once. People probably aren't sure if he's a real human entity anymore so Shinigami would probably call him a zombie. But nevertheless, The Chief makes sure he eats something at least once a day cuz his rib cage is definitely visible. For his last name, I changed Twilight to Midnight because it's got the "night" from Halara's "Nightmare" while still being a time of day.

And that's about it. Wow that's... a lot. Honestly if I didn't aspire to be a show runner, I'd probably settle for being a character designer. I'm super excited to show off what I've got in store of this AU's storyline but I've still gotta introduce a couple other characters first! ^vO

[jiselleeeeeeeeeee]

VIP (Luca Kaneshiro)

Author's notes: why am I writing this? Because i need a sugar daddy ✨ will try to finish up reqs!

Character: Luca Kaneshiro

Warnings: just a lil NSFW at the back, but nothing intense. STILL, MINORS DNI!

Tags: Luca kaneshiro w/ fem reader

Life can get pretty boring working in a bar, I mean sure many times filthy rich people visit, but to you, they are nothing more than dirty, disrespectful freaks.

Today was different, though. You were told to serve a guest in the VIP room.

“It's not one of those old, wasted man, right? Please tell me it isn't.” You are so done with your job. “You're so wrong bestie, I caught a glimpse, he's really hot. Also, change into something cuter, he's a VIP ya know” Your co-worker gave you a wink and urged you to hurry.

You changed into a cute, one piece black dress. “Good enough” You mentally prepared yourself for the worst and knocked on the door. you were shocked to see two tall bodyguards standing on each side of the door. “Uhhh, I'm here to serve, I got the order.” You presented the tray, and they finally allowed you to enter.

You looked up and made direct eye contact with the man sitting right in the middle of the sofa and holy- you co-worker ain't lying at all. Those purple hues, those tattoos, and oh my that chest of his. Perhaps you were too focused on his body that you didn't even realise that he was staring at you the whole time. “Ya done staring sweetheart?” He let out a soft laugh, you were SO embarrassed.

“I- I uhhh...here's your order sir!” you placed the tray on the table and wanted to run off immediately. However, you felt a strong force that pulled you right onto his lap. “Leaving already? After staring at me for such a long time?” He wrapped his arms around your waist. “I'm Luca, by the way”

“Ah...Luca, right? You see, I need to get back to work, i-if you need anything, just ask for y/n, yeah?” You tried to wiggle your way out. “y/n? Such a cute name for such a pretty girl.” Luca tightened his arms around you. “Also, quit this job, I can offer you so much more sweetheart~” He took out his wallet and took out a card, not just any card, a black card. “Eh? Luca I'm not sure if...” You definitely found him attractive and all, but a black card? Surely you had to do something for him, right? “Well sweetheart? How's the offer?” He admired you from head to toe. “But Luca...I can't accept this unless I do something for you too.” I started running your fingers through his hair, you couldn't resist, he was just too attractive.

“Well, just attend events with me, I'll bring you on dates as well. And if everything goes well, we could...start being more intimate. Hm?” He rested his head on your chest, starting to feel comfortable with your constant running fingers on his scalp. “Hmm, I like the sound of that...wait, Luca? You...” you felt something growing bigger against your lower body. “Hmm? Oh...” Luca finally realised why you started blushing furiously. “Y/n~, just stay like that, I like it” His large hands roaming down to your ass, fumbling it slowly. And that's how you ended up on his lap, and him being soft and comfortable, cuddling you closer to him. Of course once in a while you like to tease him by grinding against him, earning a soft moan from him.

Ever since you quitted your job, you friends have been questioning you about how you're still able to afford going shopping and going home with bags of branded items, eating at the finest restaurants and even getting your nails done every week. Well, you decided to answer their questions by posting photos that you took with Luca, he did propose this idea after all. I mean, you were winning in life, Luca's good looking and successful, and not to mention how well he treats you. What's there not to love~

[oneirataxia-girl]

Top 5 one piece characters whose design you love and 5 designs you just don't feel

SCREAMS. okay so I should say that I am Not Good At Styling (or pairing stuff in general), so just take my comments as the rantings of a gremlin probably way shorter than you, but other than that-

five one piece character designs I like:

Trafalgar Law - I could go on and on and on about how hot good he looks in every arc he’s in (yes, even stoner!Law), plus all the hearts in his tattoos with the connection to his crew the Heart Pirates and Corazon is elite tbh his tattoos and accessories in general have me looking respectfully

Killer - at first I was intimidated, but after Wano I have a newfound appreciation for him + his design, the mask makes him stand out bc not many characters cover their faces, and his hair is the single most glorious thing I have ever seen, I want a Rapunzel!Killer au for shits and giggles (Kid can be Pascal lmao) (if there's a fanfic of this pls link it)

Uta - UTA MY BELOVED, her look is gorgeous, the two-color hair?? the hairstyle?? the asymmetrical dress?? YES PLEASE, she looks absolutely beautiful and very pop singer-ish if you know what I mean, tbh if she was real I would go in the song realms no questions asked

Doflamingo - now let us be clear, I hate this mutated flamingo as much as the next person, but his design fits him so perfectly that I have to grudgingly give him this win, it's bright, it's over the top, it's hideous to look at, it feels like he too the flamingo part of his name too literally, it feels like Doffy, and so I do think it fits him well

Nico Robin - or more specifically, pre-timeskip!Robin, I just adore the gothy cowboy aesthetic (purple-black and leather fits you'll always be famous to me) and I feel like Robin looks really nice with those bangs. I'm sorry but I'm a part of the pre-timeskip!Robin squad through and through, which brings us to...

five one piece character designs I don't like:

Nico Robin - this time it's post-timeskip!Robin. when I say that I couldn't recognize her, I mean that I actually thought she was Boa Hancock but with a slightly different hairstyle. she's literally so different looks-wise it's hard to reconcile pre and post Robin as the same character. also, (and this is a nitpick) the sunglasses make me stressed bc I keep thinking they might fall off

Rebecca - I know, I know, One Piece defies the laws of everything real-world related, but the gladiator armor makes me unreasonably upset because it's virtually useless. I guess it's a testament to her skills that she's barely hurt during Dressrosa, but still, everytime I see the stupid armor it makes my eye twitch

Carrot - or just most of the Minks to be honest. Oda make them more animal-like challenge, give Carrot the round fluffy body of an actual bunny, don't just slap a fluffy tail and some ears and call it a day, I want a bunny Mink that's like Peter Rabbit, but considering that Oda's... preference as to drawing females, I'm not expecting a miracle

Caesar Clown - it might be influenced by his laugh, but I genuinely sigh whenever this guy comes on screen, his appearance does him No Favors, absolutely no drip whatsoever, he’s so difficult to stand on screen so I won’t talk about him more, I just have an irrational hatred for him

Kozuki Momonosuke - more of a ‘wistful sigh of what could’ve been’ than anything, I just think it would be cool to have Momo be near Toki’s height and Hiyori similar to Oden.

[twink-between-worlds]

I'm like dealing with migraine or something and shouldn't be on my devices but I actually adore your Sims designs. They're so them

Legend deserves those pink sparkly cowboy boots

Please give me the reasons for the choices (if you'd like too, no pressure) I love ur rambling

i hope u feel better soon dawg :(

and hehe thank u. theyre so silly. legend DEFINITELY deserved those boots and if i wanted 2 we could have given him a pink cowboy hat 2 match,,,,

anyways!

we gave wind hearing aids because. that kid got launched out of a canon. that HAD to have done something to lil mans hearing. he has them in both ears. hes also just very....i always imagine him with green eyes! not sure why, but he just seems the type to have green eyes. lil cat kid. his bracelet and necklace are both ones that look like they were made by Aryll

Four's hair is dyed black at the ends to replicate shadow. (Shadows hair, while not the same length or style as fours, has the same thing going on just swapped. black hair + blonde dipdye) their glasses are just because i feel like if anyone in the chain has glasses? its four. the big tattoo they have is more to connect the colours a bit more. in all of fours outfits, it switches which colour is most prominent. their everyday is the only one thats got all of them + a neutral grey. they also get the green scrunchie because if any of them have scrunchies it is ABSOLUTELY going to be four

twilight gets the dog-tag earring because it was funny. his eyes are also a yellowish gold because ill die before thats taken from me. his hair is the way it is because i cannot imagine twi with symmetrical hair. he would love the asymmetry.

wars is another one who i just feel like has green eyes. his hair is also dyed blond, and he's naturally got brown hair (like four!). the beauty mark was just a fun little touch. i also dont think its very noticable, but he has dimples ! his earrings being, like, a swatch-pad of blue is just more relating to a headcanon we have about him being into design and art

legend remains as the character i will never see as white. his hair was our FAVOURITE dawg....it just fits him so fuckin well....his outfit is also my favourite. the cowboy boots, again, were a must. (there was a swatch of them that was pink and purple but we decided on just the pink). his nails are painted but his nail polish is chipped, unlike the rest of the chain that have nail polish on. the necklace reminded us of a beehive / honeycomb. the bandage on his wrist is because i think legend is the type to always be injured. literally always. there is not a moment where this boy is not injured in some way.

skys earrings are just to reference crime since there are no birds in the sims :( thas his friend. he gets the comfiest looking outfit because i truly think he would not like the way jeans and such feel. he just wouldnt like how they feel at ALLL. he would be the comfiest mfer on the scene and he does not care what u think about him. no cares in the world, hes COMFY !! thats all he cares abt !!

rulie was never white to me either tbh. all his clothes are patchwork, and i like to think either he patched them together, or legend patched them together for him. he doesnt see the point in buying new clothes when he can just put stuff together and call it a day. he has the curliest fuckin hair of the whole group. his hair is naturally like that.

we literally just found the most dad-oriented outfits for time and mixed it with tired farmer. tired farmer dad aesthetic. im really lucky we fuckin had the heterochromia that made his eye white or else we were in TROUBLE haha. his hair hides it but he has little ear hoops in. he also has his wedding ring on. its not special its just a golden band but u never see him without it. his hair is also just cool to me i like it and dont get to use that one much !

god i love these sm. theyve all got little things thrown in to relate to things abt them (twi being covered in dirt bc he is the ultimate farmboy, legends earrings (although hidden) being pink and purple, legends nails being painted green bc of ravios eyes (ravios r painted red 4 the same reason), fours hairclip + choker being holographic for their colours, their nails being painted black for shadow, wind wearing jewellery that looks like his sister made it, etc.) and i could explode over it HAHA

[wilwywaylan]

Next installement of my "Les Mis characters cleaning because I don't want to clean" series !

... After, like, ten years or something. This is so long to do ! But honestly, those are my favourite. I try not to go overboard with details so the amount is more or less consistent, but I may be a little carried away when drawing Jehan or Bahorel. Especially Jehan.

Also Mary Shelley is helping.... somehow.

The Fluffster is not.

Part 1 is here !

[image ID : three super-deformed, lineless drawings. The first one : Feuilly, a white man with orange curls, yellow eyes and a lot of freckles, is sweeping the floor. He’s wearing a way too big black shirt with a stop sign on it and “don’t” and “me now” written around it. The shirt is tied on the side. He’s wearing jeans and blue flip flops. He’s holding a broom that causes dust clouds to rise, and he’s smoking a cigarette. There’s a small trashcan beside him. The background is solid blue. The second one : Jehan, a white man with a long, orange braid, mismatched eyes (green and gold), and many freckles, is crouching and watering a large plant. He’s wearing a black tanktop, denim overall short shorts and a purple bandana. There are several bead bracelets around his wrists, and his nails are painted mint green. He has two tattoos : roses of different colors on his arm, and a koi fish on his leg. One one hand, he’s holding a watering can, and he’s holding a small white cat with the other. The plant has large green leaves, and there’s a sticker that says “I am a triffid” on the flowerpot. The background is a very dark blue circle. The third one : Bahorel, a tall, buff man with brown skin, black, long hair, beard and eyes, is lifting makeshift dumbbells made by tying garbage bags at the ends of two brooms. He’s wearing a neon pink crop top and purple cutoffs. There are several geometric, tribal-looking tattoos on both his arms. He’s looking up and smiling. The background is a light, sandy circle. The fourth one : a large cat with brown, golden brown, black and white fur is sitting on a robot vacuum. He’s looking over his shoulder and sticking his tongue out. end ID]

[voidmothermercy]

A Threatening Letter

[ TAGS: Non-sexual scene, prompt, WLW, LGBT, creative writing, cryptid club, unknowable horror dating  ]

#1 Prompt: Your character receives a threatening letter.

Snowflakes painted the winter landscape of the city park, dusting bare trees, the fountain near where they stood and upon shoulders if one lingered too long in one place, as Mercy did now. It was cold but very bearable and there was a stillness that came with evening and the news of an impending blizzard. “Why am I here. . .” they murmured softly to themselves and had to tug down a rainbow coloured scarf to do so. With an audible huff they reached into their purse and produced a crumpled ball of paper, inspecting it more carefully this time than the first. There was a lot written and Mercy found themselves skimming again. Bits were crossed out and some parts had arrows pointing to other parts as if some kind of diagram and wholly looked like the work of someone figuring out how words work for the very first time. Squinting down at the rapidly snow dusted paper, they read some parts aloud. “Hmm. . . you shall be destroyed (??) . . . I will add your power to mine!!” their expression fell from placid to puzzlement,  “. . . submit to my will or . . .ye(?) . . . you shall meet your doom(!!!) . . .” Here Mercy turned the note over as it continued on, “The mental control you have enacted on me will no longer be-- blah, blah, blah... oh... meet at fountain when the moon is at its zenith...And then it’s just more of the same, I guess. What a total joke. I wonder what type of person this is.” Mercy tried to process possibilities but it was always harder to track someone who simply didn’t want to be. The note was mindlessly re-crumpled and stuffed back into the purse, though the ink was now running from the melted snow.

And they're late...

Mercy moved towards the nearest bench which very conveniently was cleared of snow, as if the wind itself dusted it for them to sit.

And it's cold. They shivered.

This evening the oddly pallid youth had chosen to wear a long white skirt offset with a midnight black leather jacket that appeared older than the person wearing it. They wore a white tank top but it was hard to make any details under their coat as it was fully zipped up to keep out the cold. Their hair was just long enough now to dip down beneath neckline and was mainly white with streaks of purple, blue and pink therein. They had no shortage of tattoos either. Altogether this person was put together different than those they tried to fit in with. Alone any of their traits might not seem quite so, well, queer. It takes a very bold person to pull off an eye-patch every day. Mercy was that person. The walking fashion disaster must have also been wearing contacts because one could almost be certain their good eye was crimson. #JustHumanThings

The only clue Mercy had that their mystery sender had arrived was that it was very slightly darker in some way they couldn't put their finger on and it was cold in a way that one could feel in their bones. Most would shake their heads at such a feeling, brush it off and move on with their day. That evolution had worked so hard to develop this sort of innate ability to know when they are being stalked, that a predator is lurking nearby, only for people to brush it off was nothing short of amazing. It was this feeling that Mercy felt now.

The darkness crept forward, the lamps in the nearby vicinity losing their power and flickered off. S̶̛̞͓̖̘͐̅̄͊͆̽͊͛̏́̔͂̕̕͝͠͝ȟ̵̛̥̰̹̪͙͔̻̱̃̍́̅̓̔̅͆̓̍̈̾̈́̍̚ͅͅe̶̹̬̮̦̙͚̪̺͈̙̜͍͈̼̫̜̲͗͌́̆̓̏̃̆̂͗̀̚͜͜͠ appeared to be wrapped in the very darkness itself until Mercy could more closely see that she was wearing all black everything. Her pallor matched theirs except that Mercy was unnatural where she seemed supremely supernatural. "Horns," they thought to themselves,  “that's... unique... a demon?" S̶̛̞͓̖̘͐̅̄͊͆̽͊͛̏́̔͂̕̕͝͠͝ȟ̵̛̥̰̹̪͙͔̻̱̃̍́̅̓̔̅͆̓̍̈̾̈́̍̚ͅͅe̶̹̬̮̦̙͚̪̺͈̙̜͍͈̼̫̜̲͗͌́̆̓̏̃̆̂͗̀̚͜͜͠ was hauntingly beautiful in a way that made them wish they were an ancient victorian home. 

Pausing in the dim light, the Demon stood and silently peered at the other woman.

Mercy produced the sad crumpled ball of paper and held it out.  "You wrote this?" Behind that eye patch of theirs came a sound like: whirrr--click!

Finally the demon broke her silence, her voice one that seemed to contain many with a depth that one could feel reverberate into their very being, mouth moving but the sounds that followed were incongruent, "YES. I AM HERE TO ISSUE CHALLENGE AND PROVE YOUR POWER IS NO MATCH FOR MINE, I--  " Mercy had held up a hand and surprisingly it stopped the demon dead in her tracks, unused to such a thing the surprise (the gall) of this very idea enough to make her pause. Each nail on Mercy's hand was intricately painted black with a deep shimmer, a fact the demon processed much better as the eyepatch'd figure stepped closer.

"This thing here says that if I don't submit to your will, I shall meet my doom? " Mercy questioned. This was important. Even in heeled boots they were still required to crane their head up to peer right into the demon's eyes that seemed to drip inky black.

"THIS IS CORRECT, I- "  A hand was raised to silence her once again. This was shocking enough the first time but twice? "Okay, soo," here a pair of thin, black rimmed glasses were produced and slipped onto Mercy’s face with full lawyer energy suddenly manifesting as they examined more closely the letter which brought them here. “What would happen if I did submit? Hypothetically speaking, of course.  ”

“WHAT.”

Mercy continued, slipping off glasses and tucking them back into their jacket pocket as they did so, “Am I to understand if I do submit you will stay with me and ensure I do not meet my doom? ”

The demon’s expression had fallen. She was baffled by this turn of events. “  WELL I SUPPOSE TECHNICALLY -- BUT YOU CAN’T JUST -- I MEAN…  ”

“So this is a contract then?” pressed the pale youth, smiling widely up at the demon, who (for some reason) seemed inclined to shrink back somewhat.

“YES-- I MEAN-- THIS WASN’T… YOU HAVE TO-- THERE’S A WHOLE-- ”

Not even waiting for the stunned demon to get her tongue back, Mercy reached into purse and took out a small pocket knife. With red eye staring right up at the completely confused demon the entire time, they extended a single digit and pricked it with just enough force for a few tiny drops of blood to appear. No wince or flinch, only far-too-confident smiling.

“HEY, WAIT!-- ” she intoned, stepping forward and reaching out. The demon had lost her blush and seemed paler now than when she had arrived. She was too slow to stop anything.

The droplets hit the paper with a soft tap, tap, tap and the sound momentarily obscured all other background noise. Where the blood landed it glowed white faintly before the entire note seemed to phase out of reality and was gone. It was Mercy who broke the silence that followed, after licking the blood free from their finger tip.

“So what’s your name? ... I love your whole look by the way. ”

In the process of working out what the hELL just happened the blush had slowly claimed the entirety of the demon’s face. “ WHAT. ”

“ ... It’s cold. I want to go get a mocha. Do you know what that is?”

“ ...  No ”

“C’mon, there’s a place near here, ” they insisted, finally rising from the bench and wandered towards the park entrance but stopped, turned half back and extended a hand in beckoning. As if in a fog, the demon did indeed follow behind, still trying to work out how events had unfolded. She even meagerly accepted the hand being offered like a lost lamb being guided back to the safety of the herd. 

“It’s Lily. Call me Lily.” 

By the time they were walking down the dead city streets, the demon had taken on a far more human looking form, maintaining the all-black aesthetic but to the observer there would still be something not quite right about her. 

Mercy’s guise had slipped a bit too in her happiness; a long, black tendril had weaved it’s way from the cuff of the sleeve of her jacket, wrapped around her arm and continued up Lily’s, binding their hands and arms together.

[END]

Lily: Stuttering Tsundere bottom (but make her a Demon)

Lily: G-girl p-pretty. . . 🥺

Mercy: [recieves a threatening letter from a Demon]

Mercy: One (1) Free Demon Guardian for the low low price of a* mortal soul?! How can I lose!?

*not theirs, obviously 

[ Author's note: This is the first story I wrote with the character Mercy when I began writing again. It's a bit clumsy and meandering but helps show how far I've come with practice. I've had trouble sharing anything new for a bit but have been writing. This story reminded me how hard it is to write a nameless character without leaning heavily on epithets. The feeling I wanted to put forward with Lily was that she wrote a threatening letter to deal with her crush on Mercy and her poor ability to handle it manifesting as a vague challenge. Mercy loves challenges and it is probably the number one reason they even showed up--their energy here is very “you don’t scare me and I’m in charge here, actually”  ]

[ouatnextgen]

Get to Know: Alex

I stole the character template used in this fic, because I thought it was really thorough, and a good exercise for character building. So thanks ao3 user StarkPark!

Name

Alexandra Jaqueline Boyd. Sean named Alexandra, and it means “defender of men.” Their middle name is the feminine version of Jaq, one of her mother’s friends.

Nicknames

Alex (primary nickname)

Princess Alex (by her friends, to annoy them)

Pumpkin (by their parents)

Appearance

Thin, straight blond hair

Pale skin

Gray eyes

Smiley face tattoo on their shoulder, no scars. They have a tongue piercing.

They wear grunge aesthetic clothing, mainly black crop tops, ripped jeans, doc martens, and a lot of fishneting just…everywhere.

Face claims

London Fuller (young)

Virginia Gardner (older)

Personality

Sarcastic and kind of rough around the edges, but is actually sweet underneath. The one her friends go to when they need to rant, and/or do something mildly illegal.

They are industrious, loyal, and determined, but also very compulsive and over emotional at times. This can lead to fights and blow-ups with friends, but she will be the first to apologize, as she’s not stubborn, and will fold like a playing card.

She believes firmly in working hard to get what you want, one of the only traits she inherited from her mother. She despises when people have privilege and don’t help those in need.

They tend to think that rules are guidelines, rather than things to be followed. Especially if breaking the rules helps someone out.

Likes

Playing the bass

Just being in the same vicinity of her friends

Listening to very loud music in the car

Dying her hair

Spray painting and doing other non-traditional forms of art

Knitting, crocheting, and sewing (don’t tell anybody!)

Dislikes

Rules

Gender roles

Shrimp

Magic

No magic, but boy do they want it!

Health

Has a shellfish allergy

Used to have asthma, but doesn’t any more

Sexuality

Aromantic asexual. No romance, no sex. They love it!

Fears

Not being able to handle living on their own

Dying alone

Has a weird fear of breaking her ankles?

Habits

Chews on the ends of their hair

Bites her nails

Messy as all fuck

Favorites

Movies: Fluxuates between 80’s classics and obscure indie stuff, there is no in between

TV Shows: Historical Dramas…she hates history, but is fine with historical based media

Music: 80’s and 90’s grunge, with some indie/folk thrown in there

Books: Loves Narnia. Did not understand that Aslan was Jesus until they were an adult

Parent: She isn’t super close to either of them, but prefers Sean

Family member: Vibes well with their step-cousin, Conrad

Sport: Did lacrosse in high school, and follows a few teams

School subject: Art! Duh!

Food: Burgers and fries, but specifically Granny’s

Sweet treat: Chocolate lover

Colors: Pink, red, purple

Animal: Penguins <3

Toy: Fashion dolls like Barbies that they can cut and style the hair on

Game: Sim games like Harvest Moon, Stardew, and Animal Crossing

Least favorites

Movies: Rom Coms

TV Shows: Modern fantasy-based TV shows (lol)

Music: Music without lyrics

Books: Romance and YA fiction

Parent: They clash with Ashley a lot

Family member: Lady Tremaine…for obvious reasons

Sport: Track. She can only run in short bursts

School subject: History. Snooze fest

Food: Anything too spicy

Sweet treat: Hates carrot cake on principle

Colors: Blue, green, yellow

Animal: Any and all fish. They hate the scales

Toy: Bratz. Barbie or bust!

Game: Hates any video games that require skilled combat like Halo and all that

Career aspiration

Either an artist or hair dresser. Or both.

Social life

If they don’t hang with their friends once a day, they will die

She has a high social battery, and is up for anything

They’re the go-to queer informant for the youth of Storybrooke

Pets

No pets. She can barely take care of herself, let alone an animal

[crossdressingdeath]

For the character design ask game: face (really curious about his smile!), stillness, bling and makeup for Kyvir?

I love reading your reactions as you play. They're really cool!! And I love Kyvir too ❤️

OKAY I CAN FINALLY DO THESE. Character design questions are here!

face: Describe your OC's face. What's their smile like? Are their orbs cerulean? What would someone notice first when looking at them? Kyvir usually has a sweet, charming smile, the sort you'd expect from a professional performer. It could put anyone at ease, provided they don't notice how it doesn't quite reach his eyes (which they usually don't; he's a very accomplished liar). When he grins, though, it usually serves as a sharp reminder of why you should be wary of any animal that bares its teeth. (His real smile is a little softer and often a lot sadder than his performer smile.) His orbs are not cerulean, no; they're purple with a ring of green around the pupil, and they glow. Which would be concerning if he wasn't a tiefling! But he is, so they're not all that unusual really. As for what people notice first about him... I think before Orin's betrayal it was probably his hair; it's red and purple, and before everything went to shit he kept it very long and developed a certain vanity surrounding it after Gortash introduced him to things like not looking like he lived in a sewer. It's nowhere near as impressive post-amnesia (it's still striking, but Kressa chopped most of it off because it got in the way of her experiments so it's less dramatic), but even if it was the thing people would probably notice first is the fresh scars across his face and neck from Orin's attack.

stillness: How does your OC act while still? Are they fidgety? Do they have any common gestures or tics? Does their clothing affect how they hold themselves while at rest? It depends on what he's doing. If he's just relaxing he'll often sway back and forth on his feet (if he's standing) or tap out the beat to whatever song is in his head at the time against his thigh or any nearby surface (including his companions! Whether they find that endearing or deeply irritating depends on the companion), or play with his earrings and hair. When he's stressed his hair ends up kind of a mess because he keeps tugging it out of its bun to braid bits of it. He also tends to get twitchy if he goes more than a couple days without a kill or gets to hurt someone but not actually finish them off. If he's actively hunting someone or in the middle of something important, though, he... well, have you seen a cat stalking its prey? Yeah, that's basically him when he's got something specific to focus on.

bling: What jewelry does your OC wear? Does it have any meaning? A pair of skull earrings he stole when he was in his early teens, not entirely sure why he wanted them so badly but knowing he did. He's acquired other jewellery since then, but he's kept those earrings (and they're actually the only bit of jewellery he's still got on him post-amnesia). He also has a gold ring engraved with a flower design that matches his tattoo from Gortash which they have both said very firmly is not a wedding or engagement ring enough times and with enough intensity that pretty much everyone who knows about it is pretty sure they're lying, but Orin stole that in order to throw it in Gortash's face (literally and figuratively) after she tadpoled him, so he doesn't recover it until act 3 when Gortash gives it back. He wears it on a chain around his neck rather than on his finger so it doesn't get all gross and bloody.

makeup: Does your OC wear makeup? How often? What kind? Why do they wear makeup, and do they like it? Usually he wears dark green eyeliner, which was once again something he picked up from Gortash (who thought his previous habit of slathering on so much black eyeshadow that his eyes appeared to exist in a void was a bit much for the companion of a lord). He loves it, because the first time he tried it out was also the first time he actually got all prettied up just to look good for himself rather than for a scheme or mark and he just... never looked back. The Absolutists actually left him some of his eyeliner when they decided on the gear they'd send him out with because everyone who knew him knew how much he liked it, and even if they put him in an incredibly stupid outfit and stole most of his shit they weren't entirely heartless about it. Actually, one of the first thing he does on arriving in Baldur's Gate is tracking down the shop where he got it from just to make sure he doesn't run out. He used to wear more dramatic red makeup for parties, but. obviously he's not going to many of those under the circumstances.

[oddmawd]

Hello there hope your doing well you said that I should send you idea on oc x character so here I go! I would like to request my oc John thats akainu son with koby building a friendship with eachother.So let give a description on John he has stawberry pink hair(wavy) almost the same hairstyle as Ace wears a greenflowery pole shirt with short black shorts(almost like Ace) and has a tattoo like his from the neck all the way down to the leg .Grey eyes eye shape like ace with eyebrows like Yamato. And fleckles on the nose also pretty tall like 194cm(6,4 ft) age:22 years old.Now character he has a cold cover because growing up akainu always told him to be tuff and have a stone face.But his real personlity is he very kind ,sweet smart, caring ,calm cares about his loved ones a lot. Wants to make friends but nobody wants to be friends with because of akainu reputation and because of the things he does.John knows how to fignt he was trined by akainu alone John knows haki (Advanced,) all three types has named attecks that are powerful like ,*Gallting galaxy fist,or Purple hole.

Please begin the story with him meeting koby in the marines headquarters John is there to talk with his dad about his futre and what he should become. And koby Accidentally bums in to and is meet by a cold look.Also please go in to detil about akainu and Johns talk.

And if you don't accept the request Don't feel bad !😊

-🔻(same anon) ,have a good day!

Not really my jam, sorry! I don't write for any of those canon characters, and this sounds like a long project.

You seem to have a pretty good idea of what you want, so you may consider writing it yourself. Best of luck!

[impossible-rat-babies]

I wanted to do this meme for Fe since he needs a bit more of an introduction in a way~

Screenie by @wardenofmyheart

Full Name: Warden Constable Steward Felrielen “Fe” of Ferelden

Gender/Sexuality: Non-binary/Pansexual

Pronouns: He/Him/His!

Ethnicity/Species: Dalish Elf/City Elf

Birthplace & Birthdate: The Val Royeaux alienage in 9:06 Dragon. His mother died in childbirth and his father died of pneumonia when he was seven.

Guilty Pleasures: Bashing a training dummy to bits, fancy wine from Orlais, ignoring paperwork, reading cheesy plays/novels from Orlais.

Phobias/Fears: Chevaliers and burning buildings. He saw a lot of violence in the alienage growing up and was deeply angered/upset by the burning of the Alienage.

What they would be famous for: Being The Warden Constable of Vigil’s Keep and Ferelden, along with the Arl of Amaranthine. Also as an accomplished Senior Warden of the Grey Wardens. Later, he’d be known as the Herald of Andraste and Inquisitor to the Second Inquisition

What they would get arrested for: Murder, fraud, thievery, hiding an apostate. Activities he did in his youth.

OC you ship them with: My friend @mistressmage​‘s character Shia’Lavael, a fellow elf he met in the Denerim Alienage when he was sixteen. He later fled with her and her parents to the Dalish after her magic manifested. The two were later married and had a daughter, Da’Vunin. But he became estranged from her and their daughter when he joined the Wardens. He hasn't seen her in many years.

OC most likely to murder them: Ooooo Shia would like to murder him for dozens of reasons, all valid. He did leave, didn't tell her where he went and didn't come back for starters.

Fave Movie/Book genre: He enjoys reading about history and other dense topics of the like. He is a voracious reader and during Inquisition he took to collecting all sorts of history books. The ease of which he could find books from vast distances is incredible to him. Before while in the Wardens he could get varieties of book, but they were often at great costs and he didn’t have the budget.

Least fave movie/book genre: He doesn’t really have a genre he hates.

Talents/Powers: He’s on the cusp of magical abilities and they flare at times with the power in the mark. It isn’t enough to really cast spells, but he can create orbs of fire, lighting and ice if he concentrates. Beyond that, he is a Reaver and a Warden, so he’s got potent/dangerous blood. The more bloodied he gets in a fight, the more worse off his enemies are.

Why someone might love them: He is a Warden and Wardens are wonderful, but beyond that he's very level headed and in control of situations. He is quite tall (6 foot even) and even then it feels as if he takes up more room. He’s like a stoic, reassuring presence that is also very deadly with a sword and shield. He is quiet, but very well spoken.

Why someone might hate them: He is an elf with a great deal of power and nothing but himself to keep that power in check. He does have his advisors and confidants, but he is left to the choices he deems are correct ones to make. He is above reproach in many settings. To have that much power as a elf is cause for hatred in many people, especially since he looks to be dalish. He can also be smug about his abilities as a warrior.

How they change: He grows more as a leader--even beyond his days as Warden Constable--to where he is one of the greatest leaders both in military and in diplomatic strength. There’s no denying that with the evidence of his work in Ferelden after the Warden Commander left and in saving Orlais. But, he also grows much more tired. It wasn’t as if he was disillusioned by the world before, but he kept the lot of it to himself. With everything going on, it’s hard to keep that inside. He grows much more cynical. He also grows more afraid of his inevitable death. He’s been a warden for ten years and he doesn’t know how much longer he has before he has to leave everything behind. 

Why you love them: I love Fe because I’ve wanted a character who is much more level headed than Darva or Dimitri and is more mature in the way he conducts himself. Fe fits well into that and I love thinking of ways he would approach situations that would be more mature/diplomatic. I’ve also wanted a warden character for a long while too and he’s perfect. Plus, his face is just super cute and I love him.

[osakunt]

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➬ 𝗧𝗮𝗶𝗷𝘂 𝘅 𝗙𝗲𝗺𝗮𝗹𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 [𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲𝘀𝗸𝗶𝗽]

➬ 𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗔 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗯𝗮 𝘀𝗶𝗯𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 𝗽𝗮𝘀𝘁

➬ 𝗠𝘆 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘆𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘀𝘄𝗼𝗼𝗻 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗧𝗮𝗶𝗷𝘂 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝗼𝗳𝗳𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗯𝗲𝗴𝘂𝗻 !!!! 𝗹𝗲𝘁𝘀 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘄𝗲 ?! 🦟🦗🦟🦗

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The sun smacks the crap out of Taiju when you yank the curtains open. The sun rays hit him right in the eyes, interrupting his sleep. Pulling the blankets over his head he tries to continue his deep slumber but you had other plans

Opening up the window you let the cold air come into the room, instantly making the buff man stir under the covers to find a warm spot. Feeling around for you in his sleep, he gives up, feeling that your side of the bed was completely cold. Grunting he turns back to his side while wrapping the warm covers around him tightly so no cold air could reach him.

Going another step further, you flop on the bulk of a man, uncovering his face to wake him up with ghost kisses to his face. You start at is forehead - move to his left cheek then his right. Lastly his lips. “C’mon Tai. It’s late” you whisper. In return you get a grunt and light shove.

Laying chest down on him you start to poke him and run your hand through his blue locks. Booping his nose and opening up his eyes, he finally peaks his eyes open giving you a straight but calm look. “Why are you like this ?” he smile unraveling himself from the covers to expose his naked upper body to trap you in his hold. Tattoos glistening under the rays of the sun and skin starting to perk with goosebumps from the cold air.

“I let you sleep in long enough. The business ain’t gonna run itself , ya know ?”

“I have workers for that, sweetheart. There’s no need for me to go in”

“I got a call from there just now. Your little worker bitches got in a fight over who admires you the most. You need to go deal with that” you get out his hold and get out of bed to fully slide the window open and let the cold - cold air wonder fully in. “Ohhhh - A special someone called saying they wanted to meet with you. So imma need you to get up and at least get dressed”.

“Someone ? Who the hell would want to see me ? Except for you of course” you can feel the sly smirk sliding across his lips.

“Shut the fuck up” you throw a shirt at him before walking out “the special person it Hakkai !!” You yell out making your way downstairs.

“Hakkai ?…that’s not new. He’s been wanting to hang out more….” Taiju whispers to himself. His heart warms up as he repeats your words over and over. He was happy to know that his younger siblings were reaching out. He was also happy because if it weren’t for them, he wouldn’t have met you.

“This is (y/n), don’t try to hit her” Yuzuha glared at him when you two walk into the house with Hakkai close behind.

“I don’t care. Just don’t piss me off” he glanced over his shoulder and quickly goes back to what he was doing. Only thing was that on that one little glance, you caught his attention and he had to double take what he had just seen. Turning his whole body around his eyes fall in contact with your and you roll your eyes at his way of being then going back to talk to with his siblings.

Your stops at their house became more frequent when you saw Hakkai with a swollen cheek and Yuzuha with a purple mark on her neck, with signs of choking.

You bust through the doors of their house and walk right up to the Black Dragons leader who was lounging on the couch with his feet kicked up on the coffee table. “The hell did you !?”. Taiju didn’t even blink and yet didn’t know how he had a gun to his chin and you on top of him.

He didn’t feel rage. It was more of a flustered feeling . Him avoiding eye contact was what gave it away. He sat there still not knowing how to react - he sat there waiting for you to pull the trigger.

“(Y/n) please don’t”

Hakkai grabs your arm making you pull the trigger and missing your aim. Next thing y’all know - Taiju is laughing at you having guts to even threaten him. “Not bad. You didn’t completely miss” he point to his tattooed - grazed shoulder.

After the confrontation at the church, Taiju left but found a way to get to you. He remembers picking up the phone anxiously to dial the number he was provided. When your voice was heard from the other side of the line - he froze.

It took some good convincing to get you to go out with him but at the end you noticed his character change. You saw that he wasn’t the same. He was more calm. Less annoyed and with no animosity circling him. It was like being in a presence of a whole different person.

From there things came to be to what they are now. You still being friends with Hakkai and Yuzuha, you let them take all the time they needed to ease into the idea of having an actually bond with their older brother. A sibling bond where there was no physical nor mental violence.

“-pa”

“Helloooo ?! Papa !!!!”

A young boy with blue hair and the same eyes as him looks up at Taiju - calling for his attention.

“Hm ? What’s wrong, shorty ?” Taiju looks down at the boy, bringing him up in his arms

“ ‘M not short” the child pouts

“Of course you aren’t….For a three year old” he laughs bouncing the young boy in his arms. The laughter erupting from the child was what made Taiju feel complete. He was the missing puzzle that completed the agonizing puzzle Taiju used to be. He had you, his siblings and last but most important his three year old son who had his looks but your personality - a sprinkle of Yuzuha’s spunk with a dash of Hakkai’s shyness.

“Uncle Kai is here…mommy said hurry or she’ll drag you down” his son smiles not having a clue of what he just said. He was asked to deliver a message not to understand it after all.

Knowing that you were capable of doing exactly what you said, Taiju sat his son in the middle of the bed and pulled out clothes - showing the child the options to choose from. “Help me pick, buddy”

Once finally dressed the father-son duo make their way downstairs to be received with laughter coming from you and his siblings. Hakkai looking up - he smiles seeing his brother and nephew approaching. He gets up to greet his brother along with his sister. Small hugs with cherished hello’s are exchanged.

“Just came by to see how things are, ya know ? Heard that something happened at your place of work. Bet being the boss scares the hell outta those employees” Hakkai jokes

“I’ve been wanting to punch a few of them” Taiju adds a chuckle to his statement but everyone knew that he was being serious.

“I can punch them !!” The blue haired boy exclaims with pride, showing how he’d punch one of the hosts that once flirted with you.

“No,baby - Let’s put ketchup in his pocket” Taiju’s smirk appears once again.

“C’mon Tai, do better. ” You grab your beloved son from him

“Don’t be a pussy, Taiju. Pour hot sauce into his drink” Yuzuha adds in

“Yeaa. We can watch him try to calm the heat in his mouth but we’ll add hot sauce to any other beverage” Hakkai instigates smiling

“We can even eat while watching him” you wiggle your eyebrows adding into the ‘plan’.

“Wow …..We aren’t a normal family…..” Yuzuha states states the obvious.

“Far from it” You say grabbing your coat

“I like it 🤷🏻‍♀️” Hakkai shrugs opening the door to greet the ice cold wind.

“Same here” you all agree that normal wasn’t the best word to describe the family. Even if the family wasn’t normal; to all of you it was normal and didn’t mind having it that way.

“Let’s not get arrested though”

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I just know that this man became a softy after the timeskip. I mean look at him. He showed that he cared for his brother on that time line where Hakkai dies. Not only that but I truly feel like he always cared but he just didn’t know how to show it so he resorted to violence to show that he did.

[garthofshayeris]

I've seen you've talk about how rebirth Garth is not real Garth and I believe you obviously mean personally I am still annoyed over Roy's clone from n52 that everyone keeps acting like is Roy is still a thing, but how is he different?

I’m so glad you asked! It sounds obvious, but typically people like a character for their personality or their story arcs or their character development. Like, why else would you like a character, right? So when there are huge changes to the things that make you like the character, uh…there’s not much left.

So, obviously with reboots some things are going to be changed. Maybe someone’s appearance is altered. some of their backstory is switched up, some personality traits get dropped or added. What sucks about Rebirth Garth is they changed everything about his character, none of it for the better. And for a character who, until now, has had a major part to play in Aquaman and other dc comics for about half a century, it’s honestly pretty insulting. So many creators poured their hearts into shaping him into a character before the reboot. There was so much love put into his stories, that the comparison to rebirth is so, so noticeable. Like…if Dick Grayson was rebooted with a completely different backstory and personality and was only vaguely related to the Batfamily, I think fans would be rightfully upset. I feel the same about Garth.

His personality, or whatever attempt they made at one, is bland and boring. He’s a brute who likes fighting and….that’s it. Compared to preboot Garth who is consistently sweet and sensitive and emotional and good. He’s just a good guy who thinks of fighting as a last resort, because he would rather use his words than his fists. It was such a lovely, refreshing take on a male character (and one who is in big name comics like Aquaman and Titans and JLA) that to lose one of his key elements is terrible sad and disappointing.

Garth’s story is, ultimately, completely tied to Arthur’s. They bring out the best and worst in each other. Garth is Arthur’s foil, from the start he is there to complement Arthur as a hero and they’re part of each other’s arcs. And his backstory heavily influences how Garth acts and what he does. His story is one of grief and loss and identity and overcoming stigma, prejudice, and taking control of your destiny. His story is about healing. Or it was.

Because Rebirth Garth doesn’t have any of that. He is, essentially, a completely different character who happens to be named Garth. Sure, he mentioned offhandedly that when he was in Magic College he had a girlfriend who Died Tragically and then they never mentioned that again. It’s a cheap imitation of his Tula storyline, told in like 2 panels, because Tula is also a completely different character now. They’ve spoken in canon once. Two characters who have been so closely joined together for 50 years barely know each other now. This is the same for every other character who still exists in Aquaman canon (they’ve written out a ton). He’s never even spoken to his other love interest in preboot, Dolphin, at all.

Let’s get back to Magic College though. Garth’s powers (or the few he retained from his original power set, though honestly he just like glows now? They’ve never really explained what he can do) are there because he went to underwater Hogwarts and I guess you can just do that and become magic. In comparison, preboot Garth has magic because he’s an abandoned prince from a long line of powerful sorcerer-kings. But power corrupts and his father is murdered and his mother flees, and although she abandons Garth as birth he is so haunted by their deaths that they plague his nightmares. His powers are earned through an incredibly moving journey that includes (among other things) closure from grief and the literal act of taking ones destiny into their own hands. Garth earns his powers because he is pure of heart, because he is brave, and because he loves so, so much and because others loved him. And when he uses those powers in other comics, you remember the meaning behind them. So Rebirth Garth being magic “just because” is so reductive, so boring, so uninspired. I’d rather him be an average atlantean.

But Garth has absolutely no history with the Aquafamily. Giving us an emotional story with him now would be meaningless because he has no part in the comics or the Aquafam. Sure, they mentioned once that Arthur “raised” Garth but…there’s no evidence of that. They don’t speak to each other in Rebirth. There’s actually no way Arthur could have done that in the canon timeline, but it doesn’t matter because they make no attempt to show he’s even part of the family. Garth has been to exactly zero life events for Arthur. He’s never met Arthur’s daughter. He’s never shown just hanging with the others, and they hang out with assholes who tried to kill them before. He is never there. But we are told, once, that he and Arthur like each other. This character means nothing. You can write him out of the few issues he appears in and nothing changes. He’s completely worthless as a character.

So his personality is gone, his backstory is gone, his character themes and growth are gone…surely he still looks the same?

Wrong. He’a ugly. I’m sorry, he is. Everyone is always posting pictures of him saying he’s so pretty (and comparing him to his look on TT:YO as if those aren’t completely different continuities?) but he looks like every other black haired character in DC right now. He looks like Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson and Time Drake and every other fucking guy it’s boring and it’s stupid. He has ugly straight hair (a far cry from Garth’s usual big, curly locks) in a boring ponytail because apparently YJ and TT are the only source the artists ever used to draw him. And his eyes. He has blue eyes. BLUE. When his character has had purple eyes for his entire existence, when his purple eyes have been a major plot point for his entire existence, when his purple eyes were his one defining trait for his entire existence. Insulting.

And he has eye tattoos. Sure, you say, because we all know Garth got his eye scars while training with Atlan (also now a completely different character) when claiming his birthright (written out of canon) to gain his powers (written out of canon) so yeah, maybe they’re just tattoos now. Except some dumbass at DC couldn’t be bothered to put them on the right side of his face. Yet another defining character trait completely fucked up because nobody at DC cared about making this character. He exists to tick off a box, to say “hey, look, we brought back a character you guys wanted. Buy our comics.”

So, when I say Rebirth Garth isn’t the “real” Garth, this is what I mean. The characters are different in every way that makes characters matter. He’s a character who shares a name and nothing else. And I hate him.

[pynkhues]

Please recommend some of your fav Rio fics!

Of course, anon! Since you asked for Rio fics, I'm going to guess you meant Rio POV fics? If not, I'm sorry, haha, because that's what I've collated, but I hope you give these a shot regardless! They're all fics I think are pretty great. ;-)

Below a cut, because this got long.

But when he does reappear at the store—she still doesn't hear him coming, she needs to work on that—she's wearing a fuckin' dress, and he's glad she hasn't seen him yet because he can't stop himself from grinning.

Maybe it ain't for him, but given the fact that he doesn't think he's seen her legs since he came back—aside from that one night at the bar when she was definitely feeling herself—it seems like this is an intentional break in the pattern. Either way, he fuckin' loves the idea that she's been dressing up all week, not sure if he's coming but wanting to be ready if he does.

Now Use Both Hands by ms_scarlet / @mego42 6k words. Explicit. Beth x Rio. S3 canon divergence.

Ooooof, this fic causes me physical pain, but I love it a whole lot. Meg really captures Beth and Rio at their most acidic, their most sharp edged, while also managing to balance that with the feelings they desperately don’t want to have. It’s a bit magic, and the fact that she follows this up with another fave, Listening Through the Air Shaft is *chef’s kiss*.

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When he wakes, he's in a hospital bed, mouth dry as bone and he can taste blood, stale and metallic, on his tongue. The pain in his chest has been dulled by the drugs, but it still lingers, a persistent ache that spikes with every breath.

By all rights, he's a dead man walking.

Ten hours, they had him in surgery. From the look of his chart, he'd flatlined twice, and he can feel the consequences of that, see it in the bruises on his chest, the exhaustion lining the faces of his family. He'd woken to a little hand in his, Pop's cheeks damp with tears, and shit, it'd been close. Too close.

Bury a Friend by @ejunkiet >1k words. Mature. Beth x Rio S3 canon divergence.

Pivoting from 3.01, this fic is a wonderful, quiet character study that looks at Rio in the aftermath of the shooting before he explodes back into Beth’s life. It pulses with emotion and with the promise of catharsis, and it’s just a really special little fic. The Rio voice is terrific too.

- - - -

He finally gets what he needs one day when Elizabeth’s wearing this tight black sweater with a keyhole that shows off just enough to make Rio’s jaw rock. It’s so out of the ordinary, so unlike her ugly li’l sweaters or her surburban mama button-ups, he does a double take, head whippin’ around so fast that she catches it immediately. Then she catches where his gaze lands, where it keeps landin’ through their whole stilted, irritated conversation, and he sees her chest pinken til he can count her freckles. He sucks his lower lip into his mouth, and her lips fall open just the smallest bit, and then she looks up at him.

Eyes locked on each other, Rio takes a step closer. Elizabeth doesn’t back away.

I Will Collect You and Capture You by @foxmagpie 17k words. Explicit. Beth x Rio S3 canon divergence.

I feel like I've recced this fic 1,200 times at this point, haha, but it really is one of my favourite fics in the fandom. It has this sort of grip on you as a reader that almost embodies Beth's grip on Rio in the story, and the way it builds and builds and releases only to build and build again is really delicious, affecting writing.

- - - -

“Com’n her and her lady friends were shakin’”

“Shakin’ about the lemon on the fuckin’ granite, sure.”

They chuckled as the car rolled on, the suburbs slipping away with the sun.

“Think they’ll pay up?”

There was a groan as Rio shifted in his seat, flexing his fingers along the dash.

“Neighborhood like this? Everybody knows someone who knows someone with a trust fund.”

Mick’s lighter flickered, followed by long, rasping inhale. “And a boat.”

Smoke swirled lazily through the open window up into the purple sky.

“And a boat.” Echoed Rio.

Drivin' through the Suburbs by gangfriend / @00gangfriend00 5k words. Teen+. Mick + Rio friendship, Beth x Rio. Canon compliant.

It takes a lot to make me laugh out loud in a fic, but this one does multiple times. It's just insanely fun, and captures Rio and Mick at their most boyish in a way I find utterly charming. It's really, really delightful.

- - - -

She’s got her crimes wrapped up and categorized in folders with labels and post-its. Wrapped up in gift paper with a big blue bow on it. And she’ll probably ask Turner do you want freshly baked cookies or some shit when they go raiding her kitchen.

Rio should really get it under control. Her, get her under control.

She opens the door and slumps onto the front seat, her eyes set angrily on him. Nineteen voicemails and she’s still got things to say: he sees it in the twitch of her hand, the restless, frustrated pattern. Any minute now she’s going to settle on new words to voice her complaints like he’s here to listen. Like he’s got the time— like he cares. Like he’d better.

It’s a Work Thing by isoldewas >1k words. Mature. Beth x Rio. 2.12 canon divergent.

I'm a bit of a sucker for a good canon divergent fic, and this one pivots the car break up in 2.12 in a smutty way that just works unfairly well. It's such a great little fic that really settles well into Rio's headspace during the messiness of s2, and I love it.

- - - -

They settle in their respective places and Rio takes the opportunity to give Elizabeth the same once over that asshole did. Her ass really does look great in those pants and she could fill out any shirt. Her eyes linger over him too, tracing his skin, the bar tattoos peeking out from under his t-shirt that she’s seen a million times but she devours at every opportunity. Then her eyes meet his and she gives him that small, crooked lil’ smile.

He’s not one for religion, but every so often he takes his mom to Spanish mass. All the viejitos and pious Catholic types think he’s a banger but his ma’s still excited to show him off. He sits with her in the pew and when the priest asks for the congregation to give thanks to God, he says a prayer for the riches that have come to him, the health and brilliance of his son, the vitality of the other little ones in his life now, and Elizabeth. And when he thinks of her in those moments, he sees her in his mind’s eye with this exact look on her face.

A Bit of a Stretch by @septiembrre 5k words. Teen+. Beth x Rio. Established relationship.

Beth and Rio do a yoga class together! There’s such a lived-in feel to this fic that it feels impossible not to fall a bit in love with it – their relationship is explored in a way that feels true to who the characters are, while sanding down the edges to create something that feels sweet in the way they usually aren’t in canon. It's a great fic, but more than that, it really just works in a way that's a lot more complicated than it looks, and it’s all the more charming for it.

- - - -

He’s happy to keep kissing her like this. To savour it. Realises she’s undone the last few buttons of his shirt at some point as she shoves it down his shoulders. Doesn’t have a second to think about his ugly scars pressed to her skin. Can just feel her little hot palms snaking up his back and grippin’ him tight. Refusing to let any light between them as they kiss for what feels like hours.

He realises these are the lips he’s been tasting. Searching for in other women when his night’s got too unbearably quiet, hunting for an echo of the thing he really wanted. Comin’ up short every damn time. Sweet and soft and lethal. Unique to her.

It’s longing in a way he’s never felt. This is the taste of it.

As Good as This by @riosnecktattoo 5k words. Explicit. Beth x Rio. 4.05 canon divergence.

Okay, I know I just said how much I loved canon divergence fics, but it bears repeating – I love canon divergence fics, haha. This is such a great alternate take on how the wire scene in 4.05 goes down, and it simmers with tension from the opening line. The way it escalates as Rio navigates this newest betrayal works really well too, and it results in a pretty sexy and surprisingly emotional sequence. Magic!

- - - -

“Do we have a deal?” She asks.

When he turns to look at her she’s smiling, and that’s when he realizes he’s absolutely fucked. He’d just fucked himself out of almost a quarter of a million dollars. He lets his eyes drop down her body, licks his lips and nods.

“I choose the place,” he says and turns on his side to face her. “You owe me half - with interest,” he says and slides a hand into her hair. She’s damp, the sweat slowly cooling.

“That’s not what - “ she opens her mouth to protest and he takes that opportunity to slide his mouth across hers and lick into her mouth.

Long Nights by zetuslapetus / @querenaxx 2k words. Explicit. Beth x Rio. S3 canon divergence.

Rio and Beth bone while negotiating a deal! What's not to love, haha. This has such a fun checks and balances feel to it which just makes me want to peel my skin off, it's so good. It's exactly the way I like my Beth and Rio - hot and snarky and constantly trying to get a leg over the other, literally and figuratively. It's the best.

- - - -

He should go out and find someone to fuck. Maybe text one of his hookups. See if Jen’s working. He has options.

He knows what he should do.

But it turns out fucking other people is a worse hell than the one they create when they’re together.

And now that he’s yielded to this wicked ecstasy, he knows he’ll do anything to keep sitting in the fire with her.

To Sit in Hell with You by @daydreamstew 2k words. Beth x Rio. Explicit. s4 canon divergence.

Canon-divergent from 4.06 – Beth and Rio keep hooking up after the time at his grandma’s place. It’s fun and sexy while also keeping the complicated push-pull and lack of communication at the heart of them. Deeelightful.

- - - -

“Does it make it easier?” Maddie asks him once they’re spent, maybe emboldened because he has already brought her into their bed. Which may be unfair, because Lee had been in their bed from the beginning.

“What?” He seems lost in his thoughts, his arm behind his head. In a few minutes he’ll get up and get ready to get back to the factory. Like always, she’ll be looking for her keys so she won’t be late for work.

“Getting it out of your system before you see her.”

Rio glances at her. “I don’t always see you when I see her.”

It’s so rare for him to explicitly mention this woman, however tenuously, and Maddie waits for more. Rio’s gotten like this about a few women in his life but it doesn’t happen often.

Sure am Using You by aniara 2k words. Explicit. Rio x OC, Rio x Beth.

It's not for everyone, but I absolutely love fics that feature characters with other people in ways that tell you something about the characters' feelings about somebody else. In this fic, Rio's fucking one of his childhood friends, but it's all about Beth really, and the way both Rio and the OC negotiate that is really compelling writing, and feels so in character for Rio. I really love it.

- - - -

Rio dreams of her that night, again. It’s irritatingly pedestrian – Elizabeth’s kissing him deep and then, ah, suddenly his gun’s in her hand and she shoots him, with a double encore. It’s always variations on the same futile theme. When he wakes it’s not that he’s freaked, unaware of reality or his whereabouts. But he’s been soaked in anger for so long. He can’t think straight, not on her. It’s honestly terrifying. Cos stubbornly keeping his head on right is – that’s him. Maybe her entire raison d’etre is destroying every single one of his attributes though.

He ain’t sure if his subconscious is desperately screaming that he’s made the wrong move, letting her live. Or if it’s the total opposite. Could be fucking neither. It’s not – it’s not getting any easier. And that main reason for not biting the bullet, that he’d be mad as hell for being mad as hell at himself over killing her, it's not smelling any less idiotic.

Climbing up the Walls by s_t_c_s / @sothischickshe 8k words. Explicit. Beth x Rio. S3 canon divergence.

Another canon divergence from 2.13 and an interpretation of how s3 could've gone, and another one I really love. There's a throughline of chaotic frustration to this fic that rings true to Rio's character for me, and the way that that reverberates through his moments not just with Beth, but alone and with other women, feels really textured and interesting and real. It's pretty great.

[nohoney]

Eyes lit

notes: Artist Keigo is something I did not know I needed until I made my own dumb paintings lol. Title credit from Crimewave by Crystal Castles 

characters: Hawks/Keigo Takami

warnings: 18+, artist!Hawks, drug use, minor choking

summary:

You see swirls of purples and greens forming spirals that you’ve never thought of before, dancing like glitter being blown in the wind and then suddenly you see white. You’re thinking in tones of purples and pinks, they pulse and shine against a wall of white and now you’re thinking of Valentine’s day.

The blanket is pulled from over your head and you look up into golden honey eyes, they look even brighter and you swear that they glow as you look up into them. “You having fun under there babe?”

I’m not an artist, I don’t know how to paint. You told him, intimidated initially when you walked into his apartment and saw a box of paints along with two small easels. The only painting you’ve done was just with your fingers back in elementary school when you were a child, how were you supposed to paint alongside someone who’s a fucking art major who’s got a whole portfolio to backup his experience? But Keigo eased your worries, told you that there’s no need to be intimidated at all.

“You don’t have to worry at all about being good or anything like that dove. The trip will tell you what to paint.”

“It’s gonna look like shit when the trip is over Keigo.”

“Don’t say that dove, art is subjective. Trust me, when you’re on you won’t care as much.” He touches the small of your back and leads you towards the dinner table, “And besides, you might really like what you make in the end.”

“I don’t know what I want to paint.”

“The trip will tell you what to paint, you’ll see.”

Keigo has you sit down to eat first, just takeout pizza from a nearby restaurant along with some breadsticks. Barbecue chicken with a side of ranch, he doesn’t like pepperoni pizza at all. His first choice was fried chicken or wings but that’s damn near what you eat with him almost all the time so this is his compromise. He’s got a little basket of snacks and candy on his kitchen countertop, prepared ahead of time for tonight along with a plastic container of red and green grapes already washed.

“I don’t like grapes Keigo.”

“Trust me, you’ll be grateful to those grapes when you’re on dove.”

He brought out a plastic baggie from his fridge and set out the contents of it onto a wooden chopping board, watching as he broke up the small pieces carefully with a knife. You heard that acid comes in forms of little blotter paper or that people put a drop of it into sugar cubes and dissolve it in water to micro dose someone. Keigo cuts two pieces of what look like little window panes, very small fragments and when you inspect them closer, it almost looks as if there’s little gold flakes inside the gelatin.

“When will I know it’s kicking in?” you ask him, looking down at the tiny piece that sits in the palm of your hand. Such a small little thing that’s apparently a strong hallucinogenic, Keigo’s told you before that he’s felt his sensations cross over like hearing colors or seeing sounds. You had no idea what he spoke of but the best way to find out is to give it a try. “How long will it take?”

Keigo’s fixing up the easels in front of the couch, has blankets ready and is putting a video playlist up on his television. “Depends on the person but most of the time it tends to kick in after half an hour or so. You’ll know when you’re on, you’ll see it.” he explains.

You look around Keigo’s apartment, paintings he made himself hung up on the walls of his home. Most of his paintings were done sober but he’s got a few framed up that he’s particularly proud of that he made when he went on acid trips. He’s already such an amazing artist, certain pictures on his walls capturing your attention and invoking particular emotions from you. You’ve seen Keigo color match your sweater in just a mere manner of seconds, sampling little bits of paints and combining them until the hues matched exactly what you were wearing. And there’s you, just a mere amateur when it came to the arts. But Keigo assures you again that it’s not about making something ‘good’, it’s just there for you to have fun with it. He’s got canvases of all shapes and sizes for you to work with and that even though he’ll be on too, he’s definitely going to take care of you for your first trip.

You trust Keigo, it’s just the canvases and the paints that make you nervous.

He stands in front of you, smiling gently before leaning down to kiss you. His lips are soft, just a hint of vanilla you taste off his mouth because you let him borrow your chapstick earlier, and it’s so tender the way he holds your cheek in his hand that your heart flutters in your chest and butterflies tickle the inside of your tummy. You feel a little flustered when he pulls back, blonde hair swept back stylishly and a lazy grin on his face as he holds his own tab in between his fingertips.

“Cheers!”

The little tab goes underneath your tongue and you’re just supposed to wait for it to dissolve.

So Keigo puts on the playlist and the two of you talk for a little bit before moving to the art stations. “Choose whatever colors you want dove, choose the colors that you think will speak to you.”

You squeeze certain colors you think you want to work with into your little plastic palette, making sure to shake the bottles first and filling all the little spaces that’s meant to hold the paint. Keigo easily chooses the paints he knows he’s going to work with to start himself off and sets himself in front of his easel. He wears a simple red hoodie and gray sweats, comfortable loungewear for the next few hours and you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t notice the print of his cock sometimes when he swiveled his hips a certain way. You wear pajamas pants and one of your soft sweaters, a gentle shade of lilac, perfect for keeping you warm on this rainy night.

You know you’ll be exhausted by the end of it, deciding to take acid for the first time overnight but at least you’ll have the next two days to recover.

And you’ll have Keigo as well.

He makes easy conversation with you, talking about how his week was and in turn asking how yours was. You look down at the paints in your palette as you talk back and forth with him, forcing yourself to not wonder how much time has passed. Your phone is by the kitchen table, placed face down so that you don’t obsess over the time so you try to measure the amount of time has passed based on the time of the videos playing on the television. Yet you start to care less about the time as you actually start to get caught up in the paints in front of you, experimenting and pleasantly surprised with how you came up with such a pretty violet color. You point it out to Keigo, stupidly excited over it but he smiles and agrees with you. “Such a pretty color dove, but not as pretty as you.”

His words make the butterflies flutter in your stomach again but you say nothing, turning back to your canvas and picking up a brush. For a few minutes you just stare back and forth between the paint and the white canvas, wondering how you should start off. Keigo obviously sees you concentrating too hard and reminds you, “Don’t think about it too hard, just paint and see what happens.”

Okay... so in other words, just do it.

So you take a deep breath, dip your brush in the paint, and make a single stripe at the very top edge of the canvas.

“See? Not so scary.”

“Y-Yeah, it’s not!” You squeak out, still embarrassed but a little less intimidated now that you actually started it. You’re not exactly sure what you’ll do with it but there’s no harm in just winging it.

Hm... wings...

You glance over to Keigo, one of his sleeves rolled up and his tattoo visible on his forearm. It’s a detailed wing on his forearm inked in only black, the very tip of it extended towards his elbow and he’s got a matching one on his other forearm as well. You remember the first time you saw them and how Keigo let you run your fingers over his tattoo, watching in amusement over how fascinated you were.

Back to your canvas, you see the sheen of the fresh paint on the white canvas and decide to add more to it. Maybe you’ll get inspired the more you add to it, thinking what colors compliment violet and what exactly you could create. Over the next few minutes you just continue painting the violet further onto the surface of the canvas, looking down briefly at the black paint that’s also in your palette and wonder if you could try painting a mountain. You recall plenty of times looking up at the sky when you were done hiking and just in awe of the colors of the sunset, hues of purples and reds and orange that invoked a certain feeling in your chest.

A sunset... a sunset!

Easy enough yeah?

You just have to add red, orange, yellow, probably a touch of blue... some clouds would be nice too.

So you spread more of the purple across the canvas, concentrating hard at first before realizing something. “Keigo?”

“Yes dove?”

“I think my painting is breathing.”

Keigo laughs from his side and you feel his hand ruffle your hair affectionately.

You look hard at your canvas and swear that you can see the paint inhale and exhale, the veins of the paint pulse in the painting. Wait... veins? You don’t remember painting anything like that, all you did was just cover part of the canvas to get you started. The longer you stare at the canvas, you swear that you can see the paint drip down slightly, the canvas inflating and deflating, and hidden designs on the untouched parts of the white canvas.

The acid had finally hit.

“Keigo... I think I’m on.” you say as you dip your brush into the water cup to wash off the violet, this time into the yellow paint and haphazardly brushing it onto the canvas before switching over to the bright red without washing off the yellow. You think how powerful the color red is, how strong and overpowering it is on the canvas and you tell Keigo, “I think you’d look gorgeous with red wings Keigo.”

Keigo is concentrated on his own canvas but he does glance over to you and smiles how you’re suddenly so into painting when you were so reluctant at first when you walked into his studio. He watches you blend the red into the yellow, wondering what exactly is inspiring you and what your finished product will be. “Ah how interesting dove, you comparing me to an angel?”

“Angel wings are white, I said your wings would be red.”

“Why red?”

You shrug your shoulders as you brush some blue onto the violet on the top of the canvas, blending the blue and violet together. “I don’t know, just suits you a lot... I wore wings last year, I was an angel last year for Halloween.”

“You dressed like an angel last year for Halloween, you certainly didn’t act like one.”

Suddenly the memory of last year’s Halloween comes rushing to the front of your memory and you begin to giggle, needing to set your brush down and have your little giggle fit; he was very right, drunk shenanigans in your angelic costume while holding White Russians with your friends surfacing to your mind. You don’t know why you’re so amused but you are, leaning back against the couch and curling yourself into a ball. You pull the blanket over your shoulders, pulling the bottom corners into your lap and you look down in awe. You swear that even though you’re sitting still, the blanket looks like it’s pulsing as well and you can see the small fibers of it sticking out from the surface. You can’t help but pick at one and hold it in between your fingertips, staring for a few seconds before releasing it.

Moving to lie on your side, you press your cheek into the couch cushion and stare at the painting you just started. It looks weird right now, purple on top with yellow and red in the middle but you’re determined that you’re going to paint that sunset!

You look over towards Keigo, seeing that he started off his canvas a golden yellow at first and is brushing a crimson red on top of it as well. It sort of reminds you of fire and you wonder what he’s seeing. You pull the blanket over your head, sheltering you from the bright lights of the room and you stare at your own hands right in front of your face. Every line and wrinkle is moving, like they’re switching places on you and you ‘ooh’ quietly. When you shut your eyes, it’s not a straight darkness you see like when you close your eyes and go to bed. You see swirls of purples and greens forming spirals that you’ve never thought of before, dancing like glitter being blown in the wind and then suddenly you see white. You’re thinking in tones of purples and pinks, they pulse and shine against a wall of white and now you’re thinking of Valentine’s day.

The blanket is pulled from over your head and you look up into golden honey eyes, they look even brighter and you swear that they glow as you look up into them. “You having fun under there babe?” Keigo asks you, clearly amused to have looked back and saw you as just a lump under his blanket. “Yeah, looks like you’re having fun.”

“Hehehe... yeah.” you smile up at him, pushing some of your hair back from your face. You look as he presents a single red grape to you, drops of water still on it to let you know that it had just been washed and while grapes weren’t your favorite fruit to eat, somehow they looked so appetizing in that moment. You open your mouth and Keigo places the fruit into your mouth, chomping down and it’s so juicy and firm and crunches so loud in your head that you moan as you chew.

Delicious, it’s delicious!

Keigo feeds you grapes every so often, whether you’re sitting in front of your canvas to continue painting, looking at the television and the visuals presented along with the music, get up to look at his other paintings that you think are whispering or waving to you, or when you decide to just stare at the tapestry he hung up in front of his balcony. You understand why tie dye is so appealing to look at now, you know for sure it’s not the wind making the tapestry move, the colors waving at you and you try to reach into the tapestry, your fingertips just barely grasping the colors in front of you.

“How long has it been Keigo?” you ask as you continue to look at the tapestry.

“It’s almost eleven, so it’s been three hours since we took it.”

Wow, three hours...

You’re not sure how the passage of time is feeling for you, everything is looking warped and you suppose that your sense of time is included in that as well.

You feel hands under your armpits and your lifted up to your feet, leaning back and touching the arms that hold you securely. The tattooed wings on Keigo’s forearm, the feathers look as if they’re rustled, they look like they need to be preened. It’s important for birds to preen their feathers so that their wings look presentable. “Okay dove, time for a bathroom break. Think you’ll need my help?”

No, you’re a big girl, of course you can go to the bathroom yourself.

Though you do have to ask Keigo to hold your hand, looking down at the floor and not trusting your own feet. It’s like you’re looking through a fish eye lens, like the floor seems so much wider and closer to you. Keigo says something to you when he drops you off at the bathroom but you don’t hear him, humming absently and you close the door. You do your business and wash your hands, using the nearby hand towel to dry off your hands and then you look up at the mirror.

You lean forward and inspect your pupils, they’re blown up and you think you can see shifting colors in your iris. You really are on, pulling back and inspecting your reflection. Now you feel like you’re caught, not sure if you recognize the person who’s looking back at you and... and... is the shower curtain moving towards you? Is that really you in the mirror? Your hair is never this mussed up and the color of your shirt you always liked before but why did it look so weird on you now?

“Dove, I’m coming in.” Keigo announces and slowly pushes open the door so that he doesn’t catch you in any indecent state. But he sees you just staring intently at your reflection and just comes up behind you, pressing his front to your back and tilting your head back to look at him. “Ah got caught looking at yourself in the mirror huh? S’alright, the first time I did acid apparently I spent a half hour just looking at my own reflection too.”

His eyes are the color of honey and you think you can suddenly taste it in your mouth, you imagine it. “Your eyes are pretty.”

“You’re pretty.”

But you shake your head at the compliment and ask, “Did I always look so weird Keigo?” you ask him, reaching one hand up and brushing the tips of your fingers along his stubble.

“No you never look weird, you’re always so cute.” he reassures you, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Go back to the living room, lemme have my bathroom break and I’ll join you in a hot minute.”

“Don’t fall in the mirror.” you say absently as you walk out the bathroom and shut the door. You hold onto anything you can to help balance you, the floorboards beneath your feet look as if they’re trying to trip you up but you manage on your own to make your way back to your spot on the couch, staring at your unfinished painting.

What... what was I making again?

Violet, blue, red, yellow... oh yeah, the sunset.

Keigo really was right when he said that trip would decide what you would paint.

You don’t hear the bathroom door open but you look up as Keigo comes into your vision and ask, “How do I make clouds?”

“How do you mean? Like how clouds are made in the sky? Well you see clouds are made of water droplets that are so small that they’re able to stay in the air. You see the water vapor-” Keigo starts on what you know is a very educational lecture on clouds but you stop him with a whine, pointing to your canvas. “Oh... oh! You want to know how to paint clouds. Haha, sorry dove!”

Keigo makes himself comfortable right behind you, your bodies once again pressed to one another as he hands you the palette of paint and picks up a different paint brush has you hold it in your own hand but he covers it with his own; you’ll hold the brush while he controls your movements. So he dips the paint brush in the white paint, also adding in a touch of red that almost makes it pink and you gasp. It’s not gonna go together! you think but Keigo hushes you, tells you to just trust him. And although you’re watching how he dabs the paintbrush onto your canvas, you’re not really perceiving the process. One minute it’s a messy slate of purple, yellow and red and then boom suddenly there are clouds that actually create a picture. “Ah you were trying to make a sunset, I can see why you wanted to paint clouds. Very creative, I’m proud of you!”

“I did that?”

“You did!”

He praises you as if you were a child doing it for the first time... though you actually are painting for the first time and honestly it actually is coming out pretty nice, though it’s only thanks to the help of Keigo. So you look back at him, pressing your lips against briefly and whisper out, “Thank you.”

Returning back to his canvas, you decide that you can continue painting on your own. You close your eyes and try to remember any memory that contains a sunset, whether it was through your own eyes or perhaps looking at images on the internet. You try your hardest, your mind producing more interesting shapes and patterns of colors that almost distract you but you’re going to pain that sunset damn it! So you blend the colors on the canvas, adding in more tones of violet and purple towards the bottom to cover up the blank spots. You thought about adding in a mountain or some trees but you feel that’s much too advanced for you to attempt, though you know that you can ask Keigo again but he already helped you once. Now you were determined to do another by yourself.

You ask if you can have another canvas and Keigo gets up to the little pile of untouched ones. When he hands you one and ask if it’s a good size, it’s a question you can really answer because the way he holds it out to you makes it seem to long. And realizing that your perception is altering the way you look at the canvas, he holds it upright for you and you ask for something a little bigger.

Carefully setting aside the sunset painting... whoa it’s like the clouds are really moving!

Focus.

You set up the new blank canvas in front of you, wondering what to make next.

“Ah I almost forgot, I got this for you too while I was at the craft store.” Keigo tells you as he brings up the box paints, holding out a tube of-

“Ooooh... glitter.” you awe at the opalescent colors, holding it against the light to see sheens of white and pink and purple. You’re not sure if it’s the acid or not but it looks extra pretty and you shake the little tube in your hand.

“Have fun with it just uh... make sure to not get too messy.”

You could imagine such pretty colors like the stars and them falling into your eyes... oh, you could make a starry night for your next painting. So you enthusiastically brush more violet and blue onto the new canvas along with a touch of black to make a dark sky. The canvas breathes at you and you think that the more color you add to it, you think you can hear it sigh in relief. You blend it all together and wonder what else you could add to it. You drift to the palette and zero in on the white paint, exchanging your current paint brush for a smaller one, dipping it into the white paint and just making little dots here and there to represent the stars. Then you open the tube of fine glitter and you’re particularly giddy; your painting is going to be amazing, it’s going to look exactly like the night sky... no even better! It’ll be like the cosmos!

You must have been a little overzealous with the glitter on your painting because Keigo nudges a towel just right underneath your easel and you feel him pat down your feet.

Careful with the edges of the painting since it’s still wet, you gently shake off any of the excess glitter and then lean back to really inspect it. In the moment it really looks like a beautiful starry sky and you think that you can literally see shooting stars in it, so sparkly and pretty in the moment. You pull the blanket back over your body and crawl your way to Keigo’s side of the couch, sitting behind him and perching your chin atop his shoulder. Weird, you could have sworn that when he first started painting he started off with yellow and red, he’s painting over it with blue and green now. “Keigo, what are you painting?”

“I don’t know. I started off thinking about fire at first and then all of a sudden I just started putting green and blue together... I think I might have been either thinking about the ocean or the forest... I forget.” Keigo explains, still not stopping his paint brush over the surface. You guess that even artists start off sometimes nonsensical too and that they don’t always have a clear idea how their end product might come out. But you still admire it anyway, reaching your hand out and loosely holding onto his wrist. His arms look even longer from where you’re looking and yet he’s sitting so close to his painting at the same time.

Perception sure is a strange thing when you’re on.

He smells nice, pressing your nose into his neck and breathing in his cologne, humming in delight and pressing yourself even closer to him.

Now you’re not exactly the bold type, every once in a while you’ve decided to make the first move but most of the time you let others give you the signal first before you flirt back. Already you and Keigo have been seeing each other for a few weeks, a few dates here and there but you’ve yet to progress anything spicier than a few make outs and maybe some teasing touches. So it comes as a surprise to him when you drag a hand down from his chest and let it rest in between his spread legs, groaning when you lick the shell of his ear and nibble on it. “B-Babe... we’re supposed to be... to be...”

“Painting? That canvas isn’t the only thing you can paint Keigo.” you whisper in his ear, feeling for his cock in his gray sweats and pleased that you can feel that he’s getting hard. You form your hand over his cock and stroke it through the sweats while your other hand drags over his arm, still stretched out towards the painting but now his arm is tense. “For example... you can paint me with your cum. Inside or out, I’ll let the artist decide.”

Keigo sets down his paint brush and his palette before tugging you to his bed.

It’s dark in his room when he shuts the door but you’re quickly put on the surface of his bed. You can hear him fiddling around somewhere in the corner of the room and then red light fills the room, it’s pretty basic of him to own those strip lights seeing as you’ve had more than a few friends decorate their room with it too but now isn’t the time to critique the mood lighting. You do have to wonder why the color red, why not just put on the regular ceiling lights?

He’s on you once the lights are on, pulling off your pajama bottoms and setting them to the side for the time being. Spreading your legs open, Keigo starts off with kissing the inside of your thighs and slowly goes up higher. Your panties are still on but you moan softly when he kisses your pussy through the cotton, then it’s up to your belly button, pushing your sweater up along with the soft bra you decided to wear tonight as stops to pay attention to your breasts, nipples perked up to the cold air along with the way Keigo flicks his tongue over them. While he sucks hickies onto your breasts, you run your hand through his hair and look up at the ceiling, you think you can hear the flap of a bird’s wings and think something flutters from the corner of your eye. “K-Keigo... is it okay for us to do this while we’re on?”

“You’re safe babe, I’m here.” he assures you as he helps tug off your sweater over your head. “Just focus on me, I’ve done this before.”

Oh great, he didn’t just allude that he’s fucked other people on acid before did he?

Keigo seems to catch his choice of words and grinds his clothed cock against your panties and gives you an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I just mean that sometimes sex on acid can be a precarious thing to engage in, I just wanna let you know that I got you.” he presses the pad of his thumb where he guesses your clit is. “You trust me yeah?”

Yeah, I do.

“How about a little art lesson for ya? That’ll help get you in the mood and you’ll learn something interesting.” Keigo takes off his sweats and his underwear, leaving you the only one who’s almost naked in the room. The music still plays from the living room, smooth guitar and easy beats still reach your ears. “You wanna know why I made the lights red? Red provokes the strongest emotion and is considered the warmest and most contradictory of the colors. Can you tell me some things you think of when you think of the color red?”

Apples, firetrucks, blood.

“Red is one of the most visible colors in the spectrum, its the kind of color that’s an attention grabber which is why it’s used to warn people of danger. Red can convey a sense of danger,” Keigo explains this while he pets you through your panties, it’s almost leisurely the way he does it but he can see how you quiver underneath his touch. “but it’s also associated with excitement, that even sometimes just being exposed to the color can cause elevated blood pressure and heart rate.”

Your heart rate is certainly up right now and it’s not just because of the acid.

You feel Keigo pull your panties to the side and easily glide a finger in but he wants something in return as well, “Spit in your hand and stroke my cock.”

As you stroke Keigo and he gently fingers you, he continues on about his lesson on the color red. “So along with danger, excitement, there’s also aggression and dominance. There’s not exactly a clear reason why red is associated with dominance, maybe it just goes hand in hand with feeling aggressive, perhaps also representing power as well.”

“K-Kei... please get to the point!” you whine, sitting up with one hand braced on the bed while the other continues to stroke him. He’s added another finger and you notice that he’s put a little bit more vigor in his actions. “Please won’t you just-”

“Most of all though, my little bird,” Keigo continues over you but you can take a guess where this ‘art lesson’ is going by the way his lips quirk up and how is voice drops. “red is also linked to passion, love, and desire, that it’s apparently a very attractive color. You remember what color you wore the first time we met?”

“You... you saying that you only liked me ‘cause I was wearing red?” you ask, a breathy laugh leaving your lips but then whine as Keigo strokes your g-spot and you almost dropped back onto the bed but he’s quick to catch you. He quickly pulls his fingers out of you and winds it around your waist to pull you flush against him and settles you in his lap, your hand trapped between your bodies but you continue to jerk his cock despite the limited space.

Keigo chuckles along with you, leaning down to press a kiss to your neck and give you a gentle bite. “Aha I’m just teasing you dove, it was your cute face I saw first and besides, you weren’t wearing a red shirt when we first met... You were wearing red panties, I remember seeing them when you bent over in that short little black dress.”

“You’re embarrassing.” you mumble, adjusting yourself so that you hover over his cock, slapping the head of it against your clit. “And that wasn’t an art lesson, that was more like color psychology.”

“You still learned something, did you not?”

You cup Keigo’s cheeks in your hands, kissing him briefly and pull back to tell him, “I’m not looking to learn anything except how your cock feels inside me.”

So you brace your arms around Keigo’s shoulders, sighing as he eases himself into you slowly. His hands hold your ass, gently lifting you off his cock and then easing you down again to take him further, repeating the process until his girth was sheathed all the way inside you. You gasp together, you at his size and him at your tightness, hands all over each other and you’re wondering where his body begins and yours ends. Whatever other cocks you had inside you before, they’ve never felt like this when they first entered you.

And then the two of you are moving in sync with one another, holding each other’s gaze, just barely able to see the reflection of each other in your blown out pupils. You can’t really see the honey gold of his eyes thanks to the lights but you you think you can taste it still, every time you just taste that sweet nectar when you look into Keigo’s eyes. It must mean how sweet he is, that must be why his eyes are colored like that.

He’s sweet like honey.

Again, you hear the flap of a bird’s wings even though you know the bedroom window isn’t open.

It’s slow and sensual at first, sex on acid is something more heightened, something indescribable behind the sensations as you lean back slightly to roll your hips while you meet Keigo’s thrusts. Your hands locked behind his neck and your head lolling back, a sensual sigh from you when you feel a hand go to your throat. A breathy ‘yes’ spills from your lips as the pads of the fingers carefully press at the sides of your neck; feels good, feels so good...

Suddenly you’re pushed onto your back, gasping in surprise at first and then uninhibited moans as he viciously fucks you. And what can you do but take it, take all of it, peering at him through the haze of pleasure and the peak of your high when you see it.

Bright red wings spreading from Keigo’s back, brighter than the lights, the feathers ruffle and seem to groan alongside him, he’s losing himself in this carnal moment, bracing himself over you and the wings coming forward as well. You feel floaty, almost as if the wings are carrying you themselves, you think you can feel feathers tickle your skin while Keigo’s hands have your hands pinned above your head, your ankles locking just right above his buttocks.

It feels like the sex is lasting forever, that as fast and hard Keigo pumps into you it feels never ending. In truth you don’t know how much time has actually passed, just that the passage of time seems longer. But it feels good, you feel one with Keigo and even just the slightest clench of your fingers intertwined with his feels even more intimate. His panting, your whimpers, the music, the lights, the flapping of the wings, and you crying out his name.

Even as you clench your eyes shut, swirling patterns of hues of red dance behind your eyelids. They seem to move in time with Keigo’s tempo, every slap of his hips connecting with your body, they respond accordingly. You feel one of his hands drawn down from your neck, past your breasts, giggling when he goes over your belly button, and groan when he plays with your clit.

He praises you, tells you how good you’re doing even though you’re just lying there and taking it, you try to participate by rolling your hips up to meet his but his power is just too overwhelming. “Kei... Kei... go, it feels so good...!”

You wriggle your other hand free from his and pull him down, practically hugging him and bringing him even closer, eyes shut hard as he goes into double time. His face is pushed into your neck, breathing hard into it and you think you can hear his wings flapping even harder. His hands hold your waist, just lifting you up slightly so that your back slightly arches.

Soft skin against rough hands.

“Where you going to paint your cum Keigo?” you ask, your lips just barely brushing against the shell of his ear. “All over my face? My tits? Maybe... even turn me around and blow it all over my back?”

“Fuck! Keep talking like that! ’M gonna cum dove... I’m gon’a cum!”

You push him back just enough and once again cup his face in your hands, “Look at me when you cum.”

Jittery nods of his head, he’ll absolutely obey anything you want as long as you don’t let him leave inside of you. All over your face would be so nice, your tits even nicer, he hasn’t pulled out to cum on someone’s back in months but fuck when you mention it, it’s so fucking enticing. But nothing beats when it’s oozing out, like ice cream melting on a hot day as it drips so he has to ask you if it’s okay. “Babe... can I paint you inside babe?”

Does an artist even have to ask permission to paint their canvas?

“Yeah... paint me white inside.”

And that’s all permission he needs, a few harsh thrusts and he cums with you, his cum shooting inside you while you gush around him, almost like it’s trying to push him out. But he stays inside you, his visit isn’t over quite yet, he doesn’t want to leave, not when he feels so connected with you.

You catch your breath, blinking your bleary eyes and see all of those red feathers slowly leave Keigo’s back. You don’t know how many there are, maybe two hundred or something like that, but you watch them leave one by one, almost as if they’re each being controlled individually. You think Keigo is the one that’s dismissing the feathers and you reach out towards them; you never got the chance to touch them.

Hands sliding down his back, you express a mild disgust over how sweaty Keigo is, “Ew... take a shower.”

“Only if you come with me.” Keigo chuckles pushing himself off you but wiping at your forehead as well. Geez, you hadn’t even realized you sweated too.

So the two of you stand under the warm shower spray, he lathers his shampoo and conditioner into your hair first, washing it out for you before you return the favor for him. You note how even more intimate this is compared to the sex before, looking up into his eyes and you give each other an endearing smile. The peak has been passed and now the acid will ease off, already things look a little less distorted and the intense distortions don’t feel like they used to when you first started.

“How are my eyes dove? Getting lost in them?” Keigo chuckles but he doesn’t give you a chance to answer, choosing to kiss you instead. “Did you mind that our first time was on acid?”

“No, it was good.” you tell him as you draw a single line on his collarbone with the tip of your finger. “I can’t wait to have regular, sober sex with you.”

“Hehe, I hope it compares well to my first performance.”

“I don’t know,” you singsong to him, “maybe you set the bar too high having first time on acid.”

“Well don’t say that now.”

The two of you laugh together, he playfully pushes your head but pulls you back in for another kiss. The water runs down both of your bodies and you pull back, looking down at the ground. Keigo thinks that you’re looking down at his cock and that you might be up for another round but you look back up at him and ask, “My feet are like a million miles away... have I always been this tall?”

You dry up together and change into clean clothes, returning to the easels and you’re surprised that the television still is playing music from the playlist. After so long without having your phone, you check the time to see that it’s well into two in the morning and it’s no wonder that you feel tired, not just from the sex but how late it was as well.

You curl up onto the couch while Keigo still works on his painting, the last thing you see were your sunset painting alongside the starry night one, the clouds shifting on one and the other still sparkles with shooting stars.

━━━━✧

“Ugh, I told you that they’d look like shit when the trip is over.”

“Don’t say that, they look fantastic.”

You hold up both of their canvases and each hand, looking deadpan at him with tired eyes. “This one looks like I just puked glitter on it and the only part of this one that is good are the clouds that you helped me paint!” you sigh out and look down at each of the paintings. You knew it, you weren’t an artist after all and you had thought that you did such a good job last night.

Keigo takes your starry night painting and brings it over to the sink, banging the edge of it gently a few times to shake off any glitter that didn’t dry on the paint before handing it back to you. “See, now it looks a little less like glitter puke and I have to tell you this dove, but you painted those clouds yourself.”

Huffing at him, you set down the starry night painting and look down at your sunset painting. “Keigo, I know I was on last night but you for sure helped me paint the clouds. I remember that part pretty clearly, don’t try to treat me like I’m a kid and say some bullshit to make me feel better.”

“I helped you get started but I saw that you picked it up on your own and you painted the rest of it yourself, I swear.”

“Keigo-”

He stops you with a soft call of your name and even though the two of you are tired as hell and feel disassociated from your own bodies and personalities, something tugs in your heart that way he says your name. “I’m serious, I helped you start making the clouds but you actually got the hang of it and watched you do it yourself. I told you the trip would tell you what to paint and you did it!”

You still look disbelieving at him, swearing that you thought you felt his hand help you paint last night. But then again, you also thought you saw one of his paintings of a balloon flying away too so maybe he might be telling the truth. It’s a little hard to discern what were your actions that actually happened versus what was in your mind. Much like the wings you thought he sprouted when the two of you had sex.

“Can you just show me yours? I fell asleep before I could see what you made.” He hands you his own canvas and you stare hard at it, looking back and forth between him and the painting in your hands. “Did you make another one last night?”

“Nope, I used that one canvas the entire night.”

“Didn’t you start off painting it with yellow and red? How did you end up with,” you turn the painting around to show him, “painting this?”

Delicate pinks and purples dotted just right to look like wisteria flowers and a big tree trunk in the very center of it. It just wasn’t fair that he was so good at conceptualizing these kinds of things. You have to wonder if he just had a natural talent for it or if it was something he honed over time. Either way, you know he didn’t get that art degree for nothing.

Keigo chuckles and sets aside his painting. “I looked at your sweater last night and thought I saw wisteria flowers sprouting out, I got my inspiration from you. Also you seemed really into the color purple last night so that helped too. Although you did also give me an idea last night too.” he takes your hand in his, pulling you close to him and reaches one hand underneath your shirt, his palm resting on the small of your back. “That whole ‘paint me thing’ you said yesterday... I was wondering if one day you’d let me paint on you?”

You tilt your head to the side, “What do you mean?”

“Like... just let me paint on your body one day. I can get those body friendly paints and just make a picture on you.” Keigo explains with a sheepish smile coming onto his face despite how tired he looks. “It kinda turned on me on last night when you said you wanted me to paint you inside and I just thought ‘well what if I actually did?’ But not with my cum I mean, though I wouldn’t mind that either.“

The thought of laying down for Keigo while he does such a thing, it sounds quite intimate. You look into his eyes, his pupils still a little wide but it’s only a few more hours for the acid to exit your bodies. It was intense last night but you were glad to have done it with Keigo and even though you think the art you did last night is sort of crap now, you can’t deny that it was sort of fun to do it still. 

Your paintings lay to the side, his own stupidly good wisteria painting sitting alongside your glittered starry night and sunset painting. Strange how your eyes perceived everything last night from elongated lengths, the dynamically changing colors you saw when you shut your eyes, you felt everything alive around rather than thinking of the furniture as mere static objects, the red wings and feather you swore you felt against your skin when Keigo fucked his cock into you, everything was beautiful and you couldn’t have asked for a better first time.

You’d like to do it again.

“Can I dove? Can I paint on you one day?”

“... Yeah, I’d like that.”

[subbing-for-clones]

The Alpha and The Omega Part 2

Alpha Maul x Omega Reader

Summary: Darth Maul becomes Maul and has to figure out how to both survive and thrive in the galaxy on his own. It’s more difficult than he thought it would be, especially after being thrown into a mix of bounty hunters with a unique gene that he also shares that are more than willing to allow him into their pack. Can he learn to trust those around him after a life time of near solitude?

Word Count: 4.9k

WARNINGS: Mentions of death and injuries, hints to slavery. A/B/O dynamics. Maul’s injury is not the canon one

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  No.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to end.

    Maul was falling, plunging into the depths of a reactor shaft on Naboo. He had killed a Jedi Master; finally, after all his years of training and harsh lessons, he had succeeded in this long-awaited trial. He didn’t plan for the Master’s padawan to be so strong and so quick. Right when he had started to celebrate his victory by taunting his opponent who had hung from the very shaft he was falling into, he was caught off guard. The padawan had leapt up, used his fallen Master’s saber and plunged it straight through his chest before kicking him down into the abyss.

    Maul could still feel the padawan’s rage billowing through the surrounding force, his pain and sadness and he took pleasure in it. The fact that he had cracked the padawan’s resolve was a consolation to his failure. He had failed his mission, he had failed himself, he had failed his Master; years wasted. His life, wasted. His eyes widened in a realization and harnessing his physical pain, Maul was able to take hold of an air vent, hoisting himself up and into the tight tunnels and calling the working half of his saber into his grip with a burst of fury through the force.

    Every time he had thought he was able to keep something from Sidious it was revealed that his master had planned his movements long before he made them. No, he had not failed his Master, he had followed his plan accordingly. Sidious wanted him to fall on Naboo; he wanted the Jedi to believe they had once again eradicated the threat of the Sith and take on a new apprentice. Newfound anger at his betrayal fueled him to climb through the ventilation until he finally reached the surface. The wound in his chest was not fatal, it had passed between both of his hearts but still ached and throbbed; the burning of the instant cauterization kept him from bleeding to death. He should have died from the impact of the fall.

    He had to leave, he couldn’t let the Jedi or his master know he had survived. Concealing his force signature like he had had to master years ago, he kept to the shadows. He feared the Jedi would recognize his ship; he knew his master would, so he almost regrettably left it behind. The citizens were still celebrating their false victory drunkenly in the streets so it was far too easy to steal a small ship and escape the planet since the blockade had been eradicated.  

    He made his way to the furthest reaches of the outer rim on the boarder of wild space to evade his master’s detection. He spent a year bouncing between planets, nursing his injury and keeping up his original training by fighting fearsome beasts. When he had returned to his full strength, he dared inch slightly closer to civilization. He had returned to Tatooine in hopes of gathering some supplies despite his almost empty purse.

    He had fallen into bounty hunting by accident. He came across a small moisture farm and with the intent to rob it, had found himself face to face with an utterly terrified Twi’lek male. Maul was about to unsheathe his weapon but stopped when the man before him dropped to his knees.

“Please! Please don’t take me back to Jabba! I know he has a price on my head but I can’t go back there!” sobs cracked through his words and Maul grimaced in disgust at the man’s weakness. “I- I don’t have much but I’ll pay you what I can if you leave me alone and forget you ever saw me. Please.”

     Maul did no such thing. With the promise of credits, he ignited his blade and took the man’s head in one fell swoop. Carrying his head over his shoulder by one of the Twi’lek’s lekku along with the credits he had offered him for his freedom, he made his way to Jabba’s palace to collect a reward. Sure enough, he was promised a handsome sum for killing the thief and presenting his head to Lord Jabba.

    He sat at a small table in the corner of the cantina while he awaited his pay. He scanned the room, taking note of every patron and exit while the band played music he didn’t care for. His eyes met the visor of who he assumed was a bounty hunter under Jabba’s employ. The Mandalorian warrior strode over to him slowly after muttering something to one of the servant girls. The man pulled the only other chair out from Maul’s table and settled himself down in it, followed quickly by the girl carrying two amber bottles. She gave a dainty bow before she trotted away, leaving the two men in a heavy silence.

    Maul could smell him; he didn’t feel like a threat to him per say as he could tell the Mandalorian wasn’t a force user, but he did waft a heady scent that made the flesh on the back of Maul’s neck raise up. He bared his teeth to the man and growled before taking a swig of the bottle; never taking his eyes off of the stranger in front of him.

“Easy there Alpha. I’m not here to start trouble.” Maul pretended like he wasn’t confused by the title he had been assigned. Some bounty hunter lingo perhaps.

“I haven’t seen you around here or around the guilds before. How long have you been hunting?” the man never removed his helmet to drink his beer, rather placed a metal straw in the opening and sipped it from under his helm.

“Not long,” Maul wanted to give this man as little information as possible without rousing suspicion. He had interacted with bounty hunters before and was under the impression they didn’t ask questions, unlike the Mandalorian. Maul watched intently as the man reached into his utility belt and pulled out a card before sliding it across the table in his direction. He quirked his brow ridge at the man waiting for an explanation.

“We tend to take care of our own. Guild Master on this card has a set up on Corellia. She’s a mated Omega, she’ll help you get started up, might be able to pull a few strings and get you into the Guild,” he rapped his knuckles once on the table and stood as a Gamorrian Guard approached with Maul’s payment. He took the purse quickly and made his way to the exit but not before shooting the stranger one last glance.

“Good luck out there brother,” he rasped through his vocoder and giving a lazy two finger salute.

      Maul made his way back across the desert as night was starting to fall, a relief from the blistering heat. He had some strange exchanges in his life but none that had left him so confused. Why had the man called him Alpha and referred to him as a brother? What in the name of the force was a mated Omega? He had never heard of that species before despite his Master’s thorough tutelage. He sat in the cockpit of his ship holding the card in his crimson and tattooed fingers, lost in thought. He hadn’t considered what his life would turn into with his newfound freedom.

    He knew he wanted revenge and the notoriety he was promised, how he would achieve it on his own he had no clue. He considered how he might be able to gain influence in the underworld and high contacts should he become a renowned bounty hunter. He had the skillset for it. He needed the credits too. Sighing, he punched in the coordinates to Corellia, confident in the idea that his Master was convinced of his demise and made his way there.

    He never much liked Corellia, he had been here several times before. Despite the fact that it was easy to get lost in a crowd, it was also difficult to perceive incoming threats if he dropped his guard. He wandered through the streets, keeping to the alleyways when he could with the hood of his black cloak pulled over his head, obscuring others’ ability to see his face. He glanced down between the card in his hand and the neon signs above the various businesses. Trying to locate a cantina called The Den, supposedly in Coronet owned by a Theelin named Zeni.

    Sure enough, after rounding a dozen corners he finally found a hole in the wall with a little sign that read The Den, in red lights. Two characters he didn’t recognize from any languages he was familiar with, unlit, one painted on either side of the basic neon lettering. He pushed open the heavy door and was pleasantly surprised to find it larger than it looked on the inside. The room was dark, lit by low glowing lights. Cigar smoke wafted lazily through the air but not so much that it made you choke. Various tapestries and flags decorated the walls along with photographs of people he wouldn’t have been able to recognize if he had cared to try.

Only a few patrons sat scattered around the cantina, their attention on data-pads and bounty pucks. He spotted a dark blue haired, purple skinned Theelin behind the bar chatting flirtatiously with a large Chiss male.

    A scent, different but akin to the one the Mandalorian had permeated the room, swirling with a strong flowery one. The odd pair’s eyes snapped up to him the moment the door closed behind the Zabrak. He took a bar stool a few seats down from the Chiss and stared straight ahead, feeling the man’s eyes narrow in his direction. The Theelin woman he assumed was Zeni strode over to him after patting the Chiss’s arm affectionately.  

“Don’t mind him, you know how Alphas get when unmated ones come around their Omega,” she was absentmindedly wiping down the dark bar with a damp rag before setting a glass down, “what can I get for you?”

Maul reached into the pocket of his robes and pulled out her card and set it down on the counter.

“I was told you were the one to come to if I wanted to join the guild.”

“You got a sponsor? Proof of successful hunts?” she quirked a brow at him as the man he assumed was her mate kept a close eye on him. Maul was confused.

“I wasn’t aware you needed a sponsor to join the Guild.”

“Not the collective no, but if you wanna join this house you’ll need someone to vouch that you’re not an over aggressive Alpha or too submissive Omega,” the Chiss answered before Zeni could. Leaning across the empty space he extended a hand, “Call me Coth, Zeni’s Alpha.” Maul hesitantly took the man’s hand and gave a firm, curt shake, “Maul.”

“You’re unmated,” Coth stated, it wasn’t a question. Maul at least understood what that meant.

“I do not have a mate no. Is that important?”

“No,” Zeni cut in, “we’ve quite a few lone Alphas in our ranks, few unmated Omegas too, as long as you don’t give the girls too much trouble, we won’t have a problem.”

Maul was getting frustrated with the terms he didn’t understand, “What are these Alphas and Omegas? I’ve only heard of them over the last few days from another bounty hunter. Is this some kind of title?”

The mated pair exchanged a bewildered look, “You don’t know?” Coth asked. Maul simply stared at them while Zeni sighed heavily and reached behind her, pouring a massive amount of liquor into the empty glass she had placed in front of Maul. Coth had scooted over to sit next to him.

“He wouldn’t be the first,” he started, “do you remember when ‘Meg first came around with Bane? She didn’t know hardly anything. Terrified of every Alpha she smelled, poor thing.”

“Of course I remember, I wouldn’t let her catch you referring to her as a ‘poor thing’. She’s probably our best Omega, she does work for the collective too now, not just our house. Still don’t know where she came from. I think Bane knows but you know how he is. Moves around a lot that girl, just like he does.” Coth nodded at Zeni’s words before turning his attention back to Maul who was only half listening at this point as he nursed his liquor.

“Long story short, it’s a gene. It’s why you can smell me and my honey there. You’ve got the Alpha which makes you stronger, faster and a bit smarter than the rest of your species.”

Maul mulled over Coth’s words. From what he had learned, most of his kind from Dathomir had some kind of connection to the force, perhaps this added gene was why he was chosen to be Sidious’s apprentice.

“And what of the Omega?” he turned to Zeni and she grinned. “Same deal for the most part but we always fall in line behind our mighty Alphas,” she leaned over the bar pinched her lover’s cheek and gave him a playful growl before turning her attention back to the Zabrak.

“Listen I’ll cut you some slack, if you got this card, it means someone in our house gave it to you so you caught someone’s eye. Who gave it to you anyway?”

“I never got a name, he was a Mandalorian at Jabba’s palace.” Coth’s eyes gleamed, “Interesting, he’s never recruited anyone before.” Coth stared off into the corner of the bar while Zani spoke up again.

“Like I said I’ll cut you a break Maul, I can’t just grant you instant access to the guild’s bounty list; especially without a sponsor but if you can consistently turn in public bounties through us for six months and prove to be reliable, I’ll grant you membership and you can start taking some pucks,” she looked to her mate for a final approval. He gave her a curt nod and she refilled Maul’s drink with a pleased smile, “what do you say?”

Maul shot back the last of the liquor and stood, “prove my worth, join the ranks. Sounds reasonable..”

Coth also stood and retrieved a data-pad with a list of public bounties, “good, here. Take your pick, bring em back to us and you’ll get the reward through our broker.”

      Over the next two months Maul proved to be an almost mechanically reliable hunter. He only ever took bounties that were listed with the option to bring them in dead, made his job easier. He found that it wasn’t as lucrative as he had hoped but he was only taking public bounties at the moment. They tended to be cheap but there were a lot at his disposal. The jobs were too easy for him, he was a born hunter and a trained killer yet he was hunting down mostly thieves who stole from the wrong people. His strength through the force came to every advantage, he enjoyed toying with his victims; making them run, giving them a false hope that they would escape but they never could.

    To say he liked the other hunters at the Den would’ve been an overstatement but he didn’t necessarily dislike them either. Zeni was always friendly and welcoming when he came to drop off the bodies and collect his pay. Coth was as pleasant as an Alpha could be to another. He slowly started picking up social ques about the sub culture. Alphas were fiercely protective of their Omegas and although the Omegas were a force to be reckoned with all on their own; he realized how true Zeni’s earlier statement had been. They always fell in line behind their Alphas and their Alphas took great care of them. He still hadn’t met an Omega that wasn’t already mated and he wasn’t sure that he wanted to; the bond looked like an anchor, a distraction.

    After collecting a series of quarries, he returned once again to Corellia to collect. When he entered the familiar cantina, a new scent almost knocked him out with its intensity. It was soft and earthy, lightly floral but incredibly strong. Noticing that Zeni was preoccupied talking to a woman at the bar with Coth by her side he took a seat in one of the empty booths and started looking through the newly available bounties from the public database trying to push through the fog that clouded his mind. He could just barely sense an individual in his proximity that had a strong connection to the force and it made him bristle.

 ~~~~~

      Your pupils blew out the moment the scent hit your nose. You had been around your fair share of unmated Alphas by now but you had never been so affected before. You turned away from Zeni to scan the bar and your eyes fell on someone you had never seen in the cantina before. A crimson Zabrak’s eyes bored into yours for only a moment before he turned back to whatever it was he was doing. Zeni had to wave her lilac hand in front of your face to bring your attention back to her while Coth chuckled, obviously aware of how you were affected.

“Who the fuck is that?” you asked nodding your head in his direction. Coth quieted down long enough to answer you.

“Name’s Maul. New to the game, Fett gave him the card but he doesn’t have a sponsor.”

“Never heard of Fett handing out your card,” you quirked your brow over to Zeni.

“As far as I know he never has. Maul must’ve had some crazy strong pheromones going off to catch that Alphas attention,” she chirped, “since it was Fett who extended the invitation and he’s obviously an Alpha I told him he can take public bounties and cash em in here for a while ‘till he proves to be a good addition to our pack.”

    You nodded pensively before downing your drink. His scent was heady, a strong woody and musty, lightly smoky smell that heated your muscles under your skin. You had finished your heat recently so you were confident that the only pheromones you were releasing were your normal Omega ones. Still, you felt his eyes on you and you could feel the dark side of the force surrounding him. Interesting.

“How’s he doing? Why doesn’t he have a sponsor?” you tried to ask nonchalantly while you looked through the pucks Coth had set out for you to take your pick from.

“He won’t ask for sponsorship and no one’s offered. He’s doing great considering he didn’t have a clue he was an Alpha when he first wondered in here.”

“He didn’t?” the mirrored déjà vu was not lost on you.

“Nope, but he’s taken care of the most dangerous thieves that have been posted publicly, finds em quick too,” Coth praised, “plus he’s left the mated Omegas alone, hasn’t challenged any of the other Alphas either. Keeps to himself, still doesn’t have a mate as far as I can tell,” he gave you a not-so-subtle wink and jab with his elbow.

You glared at him from under the rim of your hat. “So he needs a sponsor..” you turned your attention back to Zeni picking up three of the pucks and sliding the rest back to Coth.

“I’m way ahead of you ‘Meg,” she set two glasses with a few ice cubes in front of you and a full bottle of whisky; the spicy kind you liked, and turned her love sick gaze back to the Chiss she called her mate. You took the glasses and the bottle and turned to walk towards the strange Alpha.

    You watched a scantily dressed Twi’lek slide into the worn booth next to him and try to mutter something into his ear, you smirked when he made an effort to scoot away from her but this woman was persistent. She had no scent, she wasn’t an Omega, she had no business trying to woo an Alpha. Fucking Betas, you thought. They made up the majority of the population and couldn’t tell the difference between Alphas, Omegas and their kind. She didn’t notice you while you set the glasses down softly on the table; bottle still in hand. When you cleared your throat, she looked up at you with an annoyed huff. You swept your coat to the side, showing the blaster strapped to your thigh, “beat it bitch,” your voice was sultry and smooth but carried an authority only a respected Omega could.

    You watched her scurry away looking frightened and ignored the snorts of amusement coming from the bar. Every patron in the Den knew you and your reputation. You had no problem challenging anyone who stood in your way. Whether that came from the skills you had learned as a Jedi or an attitude you picked up from Bane; you didn’t know and didn’t care. It worked.

    The Alpha said nothing as you glided into the black booth opposite him and slid one of the empty glasses over to him; passing him the bottle once you had poured yourself a generous serving. You allowed yourself to enjoy the spicy malt liquor and watched as he also poured the amber liquid over the ice cubes in his glass. His scent was over powering, it turned your insides into butterflies; something the other Alphas had never done. The pheromones he released told you he was vaguely interested in your presence, welcoming it, almost. But his force signature told you he was wary, waiting to see why you had approached him in the first place.

    For a few minutes the two of you sat in silence, eyes locked on one another while you basked in the other’s aroma and sipped your drinks until you broke the silence.

“So, you’re the new Alpha in town,” you cocked your brow at him.

“That’s what I’ve been told, yes,” he poured himself a second drink and you hummed.

“I hear you’ve been taking up the public listings and doing fairly well for yourself,” you leaned back and stretched your free arm over the back of the booth.

“Is this going somewhere or did you just want to buy me a drink?” the corner of his mouth quirked up and his golden eyes narrowed slightly as he also leaned back, spreading his legs to a more comfortable and dominant position.

You nodded your head, respecting the fact that he valued his time. Still, you made him wait till you finished your drink and sighed. “I also hear you might be in need of a sponsorship.”

“As you said, I’m doing quite well for myself. Not so sure I need one.”

You poured yourself another glass and hummed again, leaning forward towards him and resting on your elbows with your drink clasped between your hands. “That maybe the case but without one it’ll be a while before your granted membership. Even then, new initiates only get last picks.”

“Are you offering me something?” he leaned forward slightly, searching your face for your intentions before you could speak them.

“As a matter of fact, I am. The hunter who sponsored me was high ranking so when I got in; I got better pickings by affiliation. I’m giving you the same chance I had by offering you, my sponsorship.”

“What exactly would I have to do?” he growled. Obviously not keen on the idea of owing anyone anything.

“Nothing you’re not already doing,” you placed the three pucks you had gotten from Zeni on the table and pulled a fourth out of your pocket you had gotten from a private hire. “Come with me and help me take care of these four, come back and collect fifty percent after fuel costs. Simple. After that you’ll have full membership and higher paying bounties to choose from. Few weeks instead of a few months, thousands instead of hundreds.”

    You leaned back and gave him time to look over the information each puck carried. Even if he decided to try to run off with the info and catch them on his own, no guild master would cash him out without a membership. You barely caught the slight widening of his eyes when he saw the cash reward. You felt his need through the force and smelled it from him. You knew he would accept your offer but you allowed him to drag out his answer for a few minutes while he mulled it over.

“Alright,” his voice was velvety, “I’ll play along. When do we leave?”

“Is your ship somewhere you can leave it unattended? We’re taking mine.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Good, meet me at the refueling station by night fall, docking bay number 7. I have to resupply. Bring whatever you’ll need for a few weeks,” you stood and collected your pucks, tucking them safely into the bag that hung from your shoulder, “don’t keep me waiting Alpha,” you cooed before sauntering out of the cantina.

    Maul poured himself a third drink from the bottle you left, he had more than enough time and was hoping to drown out the strange thickness your scent left on his tongue. The seat you left open was quickly filled by none other than Coth. He was grinning dumbly, wide and toothy; his red eyes gleaming.

“Did she offer you a sponsorship?”

“Yes, we’re leaving tonight,” he didn’t quite understand why he felt so comfortable talking to Coth. Perhaps it was because of the pack mentality this house seemed to have, maybe it was something to do with the unique gene they all shared. It could just be because he spent his whole life alone besides his master and although he would never admit it, he marginally preferred occasional company. He wasn’t a threat to this Alpha’s mate and thus Coth wasn’t a threat to him; so, he pressed on, “why is her scent so much… stronger than the other Omegas?”

“Who ‘Meg? She’s unmated. Hasn’t even been scented by another Alpha. Not that no one’s tried. Usually, Omegas are mated shortly after their first heat but she’s been around for three years or so now and she’s a force to be dealt with. Probably the least submissive Omega I’ve ever met. Cad Bane sponsored her and even he respects her.”

“Why did she turn down the others’ advances? I thought Omegas were supposed to be pliant.”

“They are with their Alpha. She’s especially headstrong though. I overheard her chatting with Zeni one time when she actually got pretty smashed, going on about how it would be an honor to submit to an Alpha but it had to be one worthy of submission.”

    Maul nodded and was pleasantly surprised with what he was told. He of all people could understand being willing to fall in line but it had to be to a greater power than the one possessed by the follower, not just anyone. He finished his drink and thanked Coth for the information and gave Zeni an uncharacteristic wave before he left the cantina; much to her delight.

    He made his way back to his ship and gathered a few pairs of extra clothes and the rest of his ration bars in his pack before paying the caretaker of the of the ship yard enough credits to dock his ship there for six weeks. He hoped that would be long enough, Corellia wasn’t exactly cheap to store your ship on for long periods of time. It would be worth it if he really could come back to better prospects. He never sensed that you had lied to him, neither through the force or through your scent. He took his time and bought a few meat kabobs from a vendor on the street before heading to the location you had given him.

    Sure enough, when he arrived at dock 7, he saw you chatting with a Quarren while one of his employees loaded a few crates into your cargo bay. He took a moment to admire you, your scent wasn’t nearly so intoxicating at this distance. He silently appreciated the way the glow from the setting sun lit up behind your silhouette and cast a slight shadow over your face under the brim of your hat but your eyes never lost their glow. How your posture was relaxed and friendly yet carried an air that demanded respect from those around you. You had smiled brightly at something the supplier said and let out a melodious laugh that rang through the cooling dusk. He felt a pang of jealousy that almost startled him. He had no reason to be possessive of you. Still, when you turned to him, a smile still across your lips and motioned him over to you he held a sense of pride with being beckoned to your side. He was utterly fucked, wasn’t he?

 As the two of you walked up the ramp and closed the hatch behind you, you turned to face him.

“You ready for some big game Alpha?” he nodded.

“Maul, my name is Maul.”

“Alright Maul, if that’s what you prefer. Call me ‘Meg.”

Yes, he was indeed fucked.