#jasmine having fangs

[aziraphale-is-a-cat]

DP X DC Like Father Like Son

Danny and Tim had been dating for a year or so now, and after having moved in together Tim loves his boyfriend to bits with one singular complaint.

He never remembers to use the fucking door.

See, Danny had never been particularly shy about his meta status, he'd been taking his little 'shortcuts' through walls for long before Tim had met him. Tim knew he saw the laws of physics as somewhat optional, but he just couldn't understand how someone who had grown up till their teenage years a completely average human could so often have reality slip his mind.

So when he goes over to the Fenton family home for Thanksgiving week and sees his boyfriend's father absentmindedly kool-aid man his way through the public library's exterior wall, Danny's behavior suddenly started to make a lot more sense.

[grand-line-shenanigans]

sitting and shaking pathetically like a wet chihuahua because of this volume

[vani-candy]

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Hey it's been a while!!! i had this and another one outlined for quite a while; this one is shorter (and kinda less heavy), and a simple adaptation of an ingame mission, so i decided to tackle that one first since it's been a while since ive done one!

anyways i have been having many feels about grandpa Mort and im happy to finally put him in a comic...i wanna put him in more when i get the chance...oh is that Mitty lore it totally slipped my mind

[radiance1]

There was a new cafe open in Gotham.

Such thing would usually not be a problem whatsoever, except for the fact that the family that ran said bakery just appeared out of nowhere one day. No one knew who they were, not where they came from.

The two parents- Mr. and Mrs. Fenton seemed to be the usual case of brilliant scientists about to snap and go crazy, and yes, everyone who visited said store waited with baited breath for said thing to happen.

Except, it never did.

They were just being your normal (as you can get in Gotham) run of the mill parents taking care of their two kids while simultaneously running a bakery.

Almost made them feel silly for waiting for the other shoe to drop, but in Gotham you could never be too sure.

Their oldest child, Jasmine Fenton passed college with flying colors, and seemed to be your normal run of the mil teenage girl busy with taking care of school and stuff.

Their youngest and last child- Danny Fenton- was a bit of an enigma, to be honest. He didn't seem to be going to school, instead staying and helping run his parents' bakery alongside- or alone when they were busy with something else- his parents. The room noticeably got colder whenever he was around, his touch colder than the normal human should be, his breath a tad too cold whenever he was speaking over someone's shoulder, and his teeth literal fangs.

They assume him to be a meta, and if he didn't already have parents would have assumed him to be Mr. Freeze's long-lost child or something.

Everyone was determined to treat them like a normal family, maybe a tad weird but honestly, it wouldn't be inaccurate to say there was something weird about everyone who lived in Gotham.

They were just a normal family, maybe have a past they're running from, who are the Gothamites to judge. At least, until they were attacked by one of Gotham's rouges.

The daughter was at school, well out of the fire zone.

Ms. Fenton calmly rang out a bell on the counter, while Mr. Fenton didn't even stop from where he was carrying multiple people's orders (with the help from small green beings the Fenton's call blob ghosts) and then out from the ceiling appeared what looked like extremely high-tech weapons and without a second's delay were they fired, the villain was not killed, but were knocked out cold.

Then their son appeared from the kitchen, dusting his hands off on his apron, calmly walked to the villain and proceeded to throw them out of the establishment as easy as breathing and walk back into the kitchen as if nothing had happened.

They knew there was another shoe just waiting to drop, and drop it did. They're just glad it wasn't the result of another villain added to the rogue's ranks.

And hey, they'll be turning a blind eye for as long as they could when said family makes some of the best pastries and meanest cups of coffee in Gotham.

(Two days after that was it made known that their daughter pulled out one of those same high-tech guns on the Red Hood.)

[sun-snatcher]

hello! i love ur work and i was wondering if u could do some live action zuko angst (that makes ur heart sink) and then it progresses to fluff (that makes ur heart swell) please? HAHA idk if it makes sense but i rlly love ur work!! hope ure doing well n no pressure!!!

🐉・ HEARTBURN

summ.  Fresh from his banishment, Zuko faces the aftermath of his punishment in both his dreams and his waking hours. pairing. Zuko x f!reader (established relationship) w.count.  1k.  a/n.  A bit abstract on this one, but just typical dream logic. A glimpse at Zuko’s descent into madness, almost? Sorry anon if this is mostly angst than fluff! 🧎🏻‍♀️

Zuko’s dreams manifest at the scent of burnt flesh and the sound of his own screaming.

He feels the molten sting of a melting crown upon his skin and the fantastical beast that is his father; something monstrous— something scaled, fanged, clawed, and too large an appetite, with a touch and breath of fire that lights the skies in a blaze.

( He wakes up with his voice hoarse from screaming. The 41st Division will eventually learn early on not to mention it. They just leave a hot pot of tea ready for him come the mornings, by General Iroh's orders. )

Sometimes, it transgresses. Sometimes, it’s his mother who burns while he watches from the sidelines of the Agni Kai; Or Azula. Their shrieks mix with his when he wakes. 

Sometimes, it’s Iroh who scalds him. Great Dragon of the West, jasmine-white with razor teeth and a flame that burns as hot as the sun; serpent eyes a shining gold and a sharper tongue that spoke of his disappointment for his nephew. 

Sometimes, it begins with you.

Please, you beg, at the foot of a winged beast. It speaks in the voice of his father; damning, all-encompassing. It warns the Prince the price of compassion, of mercies, and of weaknesses. Eliminate her, or I will. 

Rarely does Zuko ever move. He’d plead in your name, to spare your life. It never happens; he just wakes to the smell of smoke and the sound of your screaming.

( There are dreams he doesn’t speak at all to defend you. The shame devours him whole. )

“I’ve killed you over a hundred times, in my sleep.”

In the aftermath of another nightmare, you turn to face Zuko. You’re not quite sure what to say. 

“Other nights, it’s the 41st, or Uncle,” he says, quietly. “Even mom, or Azula.”

You turn back to the small medical chest on the desk. The infirmary is quieter at times like these; the soldiers of the 41st know not to visit the usual haunts of their Prince. Tonight, Zuko will have to replace the bandages of his scar, and there are only two people on this ship he’d ever trust in his life to lay a hand on it.

You’re shifting towards where he’s sitting on one of the cots. “May I?”

( You ask. You always ask. Even when you’ve done this nearly fifty times, you ask. Zuko is glad; there’s a comfort in agency, especially when he’s gotten so used to losing it every time he sleeps.  )

He nods, and you make quick work to unravel the bandages. When the layers come away, you observe the way his left eye shuts and opens as he blinks, remaining half-closed into a permanent expression of pain. He looks away, downcast. 

The skin around is stretched taut, some areas rawer than others, marred with growing scar tissue that knots in twisting valleys. ( Zuko has only seen the scar once. He’s covered the mirrors in his room ever since; avoids glancing at his own passing reflections. )

The wound is still fresh; the memories fresher.

You don’t flinch at the sight or recoil like the other soldiers or dignitaries. 

He finds… solace in that.

( Something roils in his mind. It uncurls and hisses and growls. )

“Tilt your head for me,” you say, ready to replace the cotton on his eye with a new one. 

He stops your wrist just as you do. 

Your heart jumps at the contact. His hands are warm.

“Why?” he blurts.

You blink in confusion.

“Why’d you come with me?”

The reply is instant, and unintentionally drowned in affection. “Where else would I have belonged?”

Zuko almost answers instinctively: With me. By my side. He shakes his head.

“You should have never come,” he says, instead. He’d grown fond of you over the years. Too fond; over some Firenation colonel’s daughter, a force to be reckoned with and yet a childhood friend who he’d played and studied and fought with countless times. Fond enough that he’d been foolish to let you step foot into the ship of the 41st Division the day he’d been banished; fond enough to be foolish enough to allow you to put yourself in harm’s way. “You could’ve had a better future back home.”

“But a miserable one,” you counter. 

His nostrils flare as he sighs. You watch the way his brows weave to a frown, the way they always did whenever he’s tamping down his frustration. "Nothing is more miserable than being banished from home. Yet here you are walking away from it.”

“You and I both know the palace was never a home for me,” you say. “I’ve been by your side my entire life. I’m not about to break that streak over some punishment. You matter to me.”

Zuko’s heart stifles. 

( Compassion, he hears the wings of the blood-red dragon in his dreams unfurl. Compassion is a sign of weakness. )

“It was a stupid move,” he blurts, letting go of you. He had wanted it to be emotionless, but it comes out as distinctively bitter: “Sooner or later you’ll come to regret your decision. Then, you’ll see I was right all along.”

“Maybe,” you say, just to appease him. “But I doubt it.”

( Lies, jeers the serpent. You have only yourself to rely on in this world, Zuko. )

For the sake of conversation, you don’t provoke him further. You continue, instead, with replacing the dressings around his eye. He’s angry enough as is with the world— with you. For being stubborn. And strong. And steadfast. And loyal. And—

Zuko glances at your face in focus, your hands so careful in binding the gauze it’s nearly featherlight. “Tell me if it hurts,” you say, with gentle authority. 

The ire leaves his body. Zuko’s gaze softens at a realisation:

“Not once have you ever hurt me. Not even in my dreams.”

It’s a statement so frighteningly vulnerable that it has you stilling. Your breath staggers. Something swells in your chest. You let your hand rest on his cheek, thumb below his scar. The touch is reassuring. Zuko wants to lean into it.

“I don’t think I ever could,” you answer, honestly. 

( She can, sings the beast. She will. And once she does, know that it will burn tenfold than what I've done. )

Zuko's hand settles on top of yours. 

“You can hurt me,” he concedes, solemn, voice barely above a whisper. “You can if you must. I command it.”

( The dragon in his head hisses. For now, it retreats. )

[keeksandgigz]

the witch hunt

eddie munson x witch!reader

part 2 of "the love witch"

Summary: You've been good about keeping your magic a secret from Eddie, much to your dismay, so diligent on hiding your true self. What happens when you leave your potion cabinet unattended, he drinks one of your concoctions and turns himself into stone, leaving you to turn him back, right in front of his eyes?

CW: 5k words, no y/n, reader's nickname is 'witchy' , talk of the occult, wiccan practices, description of r's clothing, but no body description, eddie turns to stone, angsty angst angst but with a happy ending, witchy casts some serious spells in this one, mentions of witchy being depressed, eddie being a lovesick fool

thank u to my lovely @reidsbtch for beta reading I love u I love u I love u

Read part 1 here, Witchyverse masterpost here

feedback is always appreciated!

You've been good. You've been diligent. You've been following the rules of the coven.

To not share the gift with anyone, a secret kept under oath, hand over the binding of an old spell book, its surface course and rough, centuries of hands- young, old, powerful and weak, all part of the history of how that book came to be.

When you started dating Eddie, you were summoned, warned by your coven to keep the magic away from your human boyfriend, hidden under a veil of thin shame disguised as indifference.

And six months went by, then a year. You thought you were safe, you thought you'd gotten through the worst part of keeping the secret.

You deluded yourself. He loves you so much, there's no reason he would leave you, not even for a secret as big as yours. You've put protection spells around everything that involved actual magic in your house, the potion cabinet you kept in the hallways as decoration, the spell books hidden under a floorboard in your room.

Although he could not feel it, your apartment pulsated with raw magical energy in its purest form. You really thought you were safe.

A rainy November afternoon, you're tasked to bring some ingredients you've had stashed at your apartment to your aunt Hilda's house, a delivery from Janice- ingredients from Bulgaria, after your shift.

What surprises you about your aunt Hilda is that despite being a witch, she does not go unnoticed- living in one of the Painted Ladies house in the heart of San Francisco, all by herself and her cat, Arsenio.

She always invites you in for tea and a reading, so you step into her house, smelling of antique parchment, tea leaves and a mystical smell of pungent resin and wood, much different from your incense and dried flowers smell.

"I need to invite Janice over one of these days" she says in her veiled voice, pouring you a cup of jasmine tea.

"I don't know if she's going to be able to get out of Haight Ashbury, Aunt Hilda. She's like two- hundred years old or something" you laugh, rummaging through your bag for the delivery you visited your aunt for, placing the jars on the table.

She gasps in delight "You can't get those plants anywhere else, she must have paid a fortune for that blood from a vampire's fangs" she squeals, running to her cabinet to find a home for her new deliveries.

"How's your human, dear?" she asks from the kitchen, followed by clattering of glass and metal.

"Oh, Eddie's fine, he should be off work soon, maybe we'll do something after" you shrug, petting her cat, Arsenio, on your lap.

"And his handsome hunk of an uncle?" you roll your eyes at that.

"God, Aunt Hilda, gross" you groan, sinking in your seat.

"Let me know when he's back in town, I need to invite them both over one of these days, it might be nice. Shall we do a reading before I leave?" she sits back down at the small table and takes a sip of her tea, tarot cards in hand.

"Yeah, I'll ask him for his schedule" you finish your tea "Let me do a one card pull, I need to get home"

"You know, dear, you've been awfully nervous lately- so jumpy" She says, as she shuffles the laminated cards for what feels like forever,

"I'm okay, Aunt Hilda, just stressed with work" you lie, exhaling with anticipation as her wrinkled hand holds the deck. Your aunt's readings have always made you nervous.

You'd been jumpy for a while, the thought of Eddie finding out had been making you nervous, but you wouldn't dare to tell your aunt that.

She offers the deck to you, you pick a card and then give it to her. A gasp escapes her upon looking at it.

A panic rises through your body "What? What is it?" you ask, your bag already across your shoulder, holding on to its strap.

"The Tower" she mutters, destruction, unexpected change, awakening.

A shiver runs down your spine, one by one your vertebrae straighten "I just had a really bad feeling, dear. I would check in on your human boy" she places a hand on her temple, heart racing as you bolt out of your seat and leave.

On the train, panic settles in, wondering if Eddie was somehow connected to this.

A call startles you. It's him.

You tremble when nearing the phone to your ear.

"Hey, witchy, I'm at your house- I used the spare key. I just called 'cause I had a question" he says, voice dubious and vague.

"What is it, Ed? I'm on my way home"

"I was just wondering if it's normal that the cabinet in your hallway is open? I had to stop Circe from getting into it a couple times" you hear a meowing in the background, he must be holding her.

"What cabinet?" you feel your chest rise and fall at an incredibly fast pace.

"The one with the wilted flowers on them, it has a bunch of bottles. Are- are these fake potions?" There's an amused lilt in his voice, almost as if he's laughing at you. Fuck. The potion cabinet.

"Eddie don't touch anything, I'm literally here" your alarmed tone freaks him out, but he has no time to say anything as you hang up and enter your apartment building.

You run up the stairs, heart in your throat, as you reach your front door and slam it open. Eddie's head swings violently.

"Hey, witchy, what's wrong?" he stands up from the cabinet, holding Circe on one arm. You're heaving, irregular breaths, as you see he's still standing, alive, and breathing.

You close the door. "You didn't touch anything in there, did you?" you run towards the open cabinet, checking for missing bottles.

"Witchy, honey, I don't get why you're so jumpy about a couple of fake potions, they would actually be really useful for DnD" Eddie chuckles, reaching into the cabinet to grab a bottle, observing it up close. A greyish- blue liquid swirls inside the bottle.

"Eddie! Put it back! It's dangerous!" you exclaim as you reach for the bottle, but he's blocking you.

"Baby, I think you might be getting a little too carried away with this witchy stuff. There's no way you should be reacting like this over some water and dye" he swirls the bottle once again "I'll even drink it, show you it's not actually that dangerous"

A smug smile adorns his lips, as you watch helplessly while he uncorks the small vial and downs its content. 

“EDDIE NO” You aren’t even sure what it is, which makes a panic set into your stomach, hoping you could reverse whatever he ingested.

“No, no, no, no, what have you done?” your head encapsulated in your hands, feeling the beady sweat on your hairline, falling to your knees with the realization. You’re going to have to tell him.

“See? Not dangerous, baby. I love you, but you need to do something about this obsession, it’s getting out of hand” he sighs “I’m hungry i’m gonna get some food” but before he can even take a step, the rumbling of stone fills the room. 

You grab the empty glass vial and examine its label. Shit. He turned himself to stone.

In a panic, he looks at you. 

“Witchy, what’s going on?” his eyes dart from you to his frozen legs, the stone spreading itself upward quickly “Witch-what- is that stone?” He goes still after that.

A statue. His cold, grey eyes staring up at you in a panic. 

Tears brimming your eyes at the sudden realization that once you turn him back to normal he’s going to know. 

His hands feel cold at the touch as you cling on to your boyfriend’s statued form. Mouth agape, eyebrows pinched in fear, it hurt you to see him like this. You were going to lose it all because of a dumb mistake.

A desperate scream bubbles inside your chest as you hold yourself flush against Eddie’s cold surface, wishing his arms could hug you back, having to come to terms with the fact that this is probably the last time you’ll ever see him in your home. You won’t ever get to hold him again.

Weak and teary- eyed you reach for your phone, wiping under your eyes as you try to stabilize yourself. 

“Hello, dear?” aunt Hilda says through the phone. 

“Aunt Hilda I made a really terrible mistake” you sob, shoulders shaking with the violence of your hiccups. 

“What’s wrong? What happened?” the concern is palpable through her voice. 

“I left- left my potion cabinet open and Eddie-” another string of violent sobs follow, rumbled deep in your chest, shaking you to your very core. 

“What happened to Eddie?” The question is cautious, though unfortunately you could feel the alarm and sternness in her voice.

“He turned to stone” you sigh, exasperated, letting yourself sink into the sofa. 

“Stone? How did a human man turn to stone?” ever the help, your aunt exclaims. 

A dramatic exhale you feel like you’ve been holding onto “I left my potion cabinet open and he- and he has a spare key” you sob- all your fault for letting your guard down, all your fault for letting yourself care for him so mindlessly. 

“He got into it thinking they were all fake, I tried to- to stop him” a siffle stops you “he was trying to be funny” a string of sobs followed, unable to speak any longer. 

“You need to pull yourself together,” Hilda says, amidst your inconsolable sobs “you know how to reverse this” her voice is stern, yet shaky, she feels for you, having to let your love go. 

“The mirror” you mumble. 

“That’s right, get a mirror- circle of reflection, circle of protection” she reminds you “repeat those words, he’ll be okay, dear” you can tell that she is hurting, breaking the law of your coven, making you face consequences you haven't even thought of.  

Would you be losing your power? Would you have to move away from him? In hindsight that would be a blessing, as you doubt he would want to stay, now that your secret is uncovered. 

Hilda hangs up the phone as you scramble to get a mirror, and smear salt over his heart. Trying to reverse the spell that might have broken it. 

The mirror faces your boyfriend, his features grey and scared- the last time you’ll ever see him in this lifetime.

Circle of reflection, circle of protection

Circle of reflection, circle of protection

Circle of reflection, circle of protection

The hand that is not holding the mirror is clutched on tightly to his chest, as you keep repeating the words. 

The sound of rubble breaking makes your heart wrench, selfishly wanting him to stay a statue for a little longer, so you won’t have to say goodbye to him just yet, but the stone armor sheds, and his eyes are brown instead of dull and grey, and his arms move, as well as his mouth, closing in itself, breathing as if he’s come to life for the first time. 

He rubs his eyes first, drowsy, like waking up from a one- hundred year old slumber. He looks around the room, it’s familiar to him, the smell of incense that was there, and then it wasn’t, blocked by the earthy smell of rubble and earth. 

“What happened?” he mumbles, shaking his stiff limbs, kicking the broken suit of stone armor at his feet, your hand still on his heart “Witchy?” 

His eyes are blown wide, memories of what had happened an hour before coming to the surface. The same panicked look adorns his face. 

“The potion- it wasn’t” he begins, as you move your hand off of his body, much to your heart’s dismay. You shake your head. 

“It wasn’t fake. None of them are fake” you mutter, staring at the floor, not even daring to look at him. There’s a quiet tension, an almost awkward silence, charged with pain and heartbreak, as Eddie realizes what you mean by ‘not fake.’

“And you brought me back from whatever I turned into” he breathes.

You just nod, head fixated on the floorboards and the rubble surrounding his feet.

“Does that make you-” he gulps. Can’t even bring himself to say it. 

“A witch” you mumble under your breath “a real one,” your gaze falls on his eyes, dilated and sad, as his eyebrows curve up, a line forming on the bridge of his nose. 

There’s once again an unsettling quiet between you two, as he tries to wrap his head around the news. 

His chest feels hollow, where your hand had been just moments before, an unrecognizable phantom pressing down on his heart, rubbing salt in a gashing wound, hoping it would ameliorate it, only to make it bleed more.

He takes a few steps back, watching his step over the rubble, breaking his silence after what feels like hours. 

“Why didn’t you tell me this?” it’s a mere mumble, but the question was clear, hurt, and a little scared, maybe. 

“I swore under oath that I would keep it a secret” you purse your lips, taking a step forward. Your heart shatters when he takes a step back.

His chest is stilled, breath caught in his throat, hands at his sides as he scoffs. 

“You swore you’d keep it a secret? Is that why you’ve been so jumpy lately? You knew I was bound to find out and you didn’t tell me?” his head is reeling, betrayal cuts through him like a knife as more and more of looking at you twists the dagger in his chest. 

“I didn’t want you to find out, Ed. I promised to my coven-” 

“Your coven?  There’s more of you?” you can’t do anything else but swallow on the knot in your throat, scratching and engorging with every word that comes out of Eddie’s mouth, and nod. 

“And you let me drink the potion, God knows what it could have been” he trembles, a shaky breath escapes him. 

“I tried to stop you, Eddie!” you reach for him, hanging on the feeble hope he’ll realize that you have never meant to hurt him in the first place. 

“And- and what if you spelled me, huh? What if you spelled me to make me fall in love with you? Is my love for you not real?” that hurt you more than anything else he could have said, tears brimming your eyes, escaping from their confinement as they streak down your cheeks. 

“I’ve never used my magic on you,” you admit, voice thick with salty tears “my love for you is real, as yours is. I never tampered with your heart, it’s not who I am” bottom lip jutted out and trembling, feeling on the teetering edge of the end.

“I don’t know who you are” a stab to the heart would have hurt less. “You’ve been lying to me for the past year about who you are. No wonder I was so in love with you, you made me fall in love with a person that doesn’t exist, you spelled me!” he’s trembling, you can see it in the way that his fists are balled up– something he does to stabilize himself whenever he’s upset. 

And now he’s upset because of you. 

“Eddie–” you take a step forward, he takes a step back. 

“No. Don’t- don’t come closer.” tears well at the bottom of your lash line, as you watch him turn away, leave and close the door behind him. Words trapped at the bottom of your throat. Words you’ll never get to say again. 

You’re not sure how long you stand there, staring at the doorknob, hoping that it might turn, revealing Eddie once again, ready for you to explain everything to him. 

But the doorknob doesn’t turn, the door doesn’t open, and Eddie doesn’t come back. 

You refuse to sweep the rubble from the last time he was in your apartment, hoping that the smell of him stuck to the cold stone, but there’s nothing left of him in your space. 

The thing about love witches is that when the thing most precious to them, their hearts, break,  the life force of their power fades. 

So within a short span of days, you notice yourself being weakened. Simple spells become a hard feat, as you can barely make things levitate, sitting in the darkness of your room. 

Days begin to merge into themselves, as you get yourself to work, then home, then work, then home. A repeating cycle you don’t intend to stop. You leave around the back side of the store, to not let Eddie see you while he’s on his smoke break, blending into the crowded streets of what once seemed like the best place in the world.

Your aunt Hilda doesn’t hear from you, and neither does anyone else. You fall off the face of the earth, hoping that your hours never coincide with Eddie’s. 

But you can feel it from next door, the pain and hurt that radiates from the record store. You feel it in the way he speaks to customers, in the way he sighs as he gets off his smoke break. 

You hear him ask Janice about you, she tells him that she doesn’t know, that she hasn’t seen you in a while. Respecting your wishes to let him live his life in peace. 

But he wasn’t living his life in peace. In fact, Eddie was miserable. 

He was miserable in the way that everything reminded him of you, in the way that if he stepped too close to your store (to make sure you were working that day), he’d smell the rose incense you’d light at your house. The one he would smell on your clothes. 

The crystals that sat on his windowsill were now tightly packed and shoved away on a far up shelf that he would not be reminded of you. He burned every trace of you, the taste of betrayal bitter in his throat as he sat on his couch every night, always on the left side, because you sat on the right. A place for you was always carved in his mind, whether it was unconscious or intentional. 

 The smell of your shampoo lingers in the pink bottles in his shower, in the silk pillow you always slept on when you went over to his house. A silk shirt you left on his bed, gingerly placed on his pillow as he lets your smell engulf him. That’s the only way he can sleep. 

There’s a fear deeply setting in, that he might just never be able to get over you. Despite the lies and the secrets, he will never be able to not think about you, not when the smell of rose incense or the color pink exist, not when long skirts and crystals and tarot cards and brocade rugs exist. Not when you exist. Not when you keep walking the earth, sadness seeping in every crevice and every crack of his walls.

He knows he can’t go on like this. Not while you roam the same streets he roams, waiting for you to turn around. Look at me, witchy, look at me. 

And you’re so sad. He can see it in your eyes, in the way you don’t carry yourself like you used to– shoulders slouched, dressed in black like you’re mourning the loss of your heart. Mourning the loss of your love.

He debates going back to Hawkins for a bit. Going back to live with his uncle– leave this new world behind, just until the air has been purified of you. Until he’s no longer thinking about the witchy girl who haunts his dreams at night. Go work where his friend Steve works at, shitty, dead- end job, just for a bit. 

Confine himself to the life of a hermit, just so he can allow you to live in peace. 

So he goes back to Hawkins, under the guise of going home for the holidays. He picks up whatever jobs his uncle can’t do anymore because of his age, driving the beat up yellow pick- up truck in and out of town. 

“I never thought I’d see the day Munson would come crawling back” he’d hear a couple of people say on the street. He’s never gone unnoticed, but now more so than before– integrated in the San Francisco scene, he did anything but blend in. And he swears he sees you a few times, walking around downtown Hawkins, your hair, your clothes, your bag. Prancing around like your life is back to normal. 

Could it have been a spell? Did you spell him to not make him forget about you? 

But he knows it isn’t like you. Not malicious, not even as a witch, he assumes. 

He keeps himself up at night thinking about you. You’d never use magic on him. With a sound mind, he tells himself that’s true. Your love for him is real. Is his love for you real? Shivering in the freezing temperature of his uncle’s trailer he’d ponder whether what you had was real or not. 

Real.

He drives himself crazy, the thought of you plaguing his mind. 

Even his uncle grows worried, the purple bags under his nephew’s eyes, all the books on witchcraft Eddie could find at the Hawkins local library sitting on his desk. Staying up to read on anything and everything that could help him.

And when that doesn’t work he goes on his uncle’s shitty wifi he never uses to research anything about witches, about magic, about you.

You don’t sense him anymore. Not through the walls, not in his sardonic laugh. It’s like he’d vanished into thin air. 

You find yourself stepping into the record store after a shift, asking his shitty coworkers what happened to Eddie. 

And you’re so weak. So tired, it is even a feat to be able to make it through one full shift standing up, finding a stool to sit on. You’ve paled, eyes dark and lifeless. 

“He’s gone back home for the holidays” one of the assholes who made fun of you says “left you stranded here all by yourself? Or did he kick you to the curb?” he smirks, and the other idiot laughs. You make a mental note to hex them for good next time. 

If you don’t die first. 

Eddie comes back to San Francisco after the holidays, and it’s like he’s never left. 

Union Square has taken off the tree and the ice skating rink– he wanted to take you there. He thought you’d be good at ice skating. You’re good at everything. Or maybe it’s because you’re magic. 

The restaurant you went to on your first date has closed down. There’s a smile creeping on his face as he remembers you laughing because he couldn’t eat with chopsticks. He misses hearing you laugh. He misses seeing you smile. 

The tiny twinkle, the stars in your eyes. The way he’d braid your hair at night. Petting Circe, nestled in between you two in your bed. 

He sees you for the first time since he’s been back on the porch of your shop. His heart shrinks at the sight of you. Eyes sunken in, buried in layers and layers of woolen fabric, staring blankly at the street in front of you. 

The thing about love witches is that when the thing most precious to them, their hearts, break,  the life force of their power fades. 

He remembers reading that in an old looking book during the holidays. He wrote it down in his notebook. 

A love witch. Thrives on being loved and being in love.  

Her heart is only safe when her love is true and unfettered. 

He sees it now.

He shows up to your house after talking himself into it for a week, with the excuse of returning a shirt. The same silk  shirt he’d been sleeping on top of since he left you. He had it washed for you. It doesn’t smell like you anymore.

He knocks. Is it him or are his hands always that sweaty? Is his heart beating at a normal pace? Is his hair okay? And his breath? Oh shit, he has a zit on his chin.

“Go away Aunt Hilda!” he hears you say, grumpy and grouchy. The veiled sadness in your voice creates a rift between him and the door. 

So he knocks. Again. And Again. 

“Aunt Hilda I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this, I don’t want– Eddie” A breath gets trapped in your diaphragm, feeling your heart start picking up its pace for the first time in what felt like weeks. 

“Hi” he gives you a tight smile, the silk balled up in a fist, purple with little black swirls on it. 

“Hi, um, I– what are you doing here? Do you wanna come in?” you slither like a worm, that’s how you feel. The boy you’ve been pining and crying and suffering for is here. Right in front of you. 

You look so much more frail than he’d remembered “I uh–” he holds up the fabric “you left this at my house” 

“Oh, thanks. That’s sweet of you” Your heart drops, you really thought he was going to make amends with you?

You extend your arm, so he can give the shirt to you. So he can be on his way and be gone forever. 

Hands, fingers, knuckles. He misses holding your hand. 

“I heard you went home for the holidays, how was that?” you lean on the doorframe, hands crossed on your chest. 

“It was good, I just spent it with my uncle. He told me to tell you happy new year, uh— even though we’re not—” he shouldn’t have said the last part, he sees you sink into yourself, gazing down at the hardwood floor. His stomach twists. 

“What did you do for the holidays?” he asks. He doesn’t want it to be over, not yet. 

“I just stayed in, I’ve been pretty sick lately, flu season in full swing. I’ve just been—”

“Your heart’s broken, isn’t it? That’s why you’ve been so sick?” your heart drops. How does he know all this? 

He reads your puzzled expression “I um— did some research. That’s what I did most of my holidays.  I just wanted to understand. I know you didn’t spell me, or whatever. You’re a love witch” he takes out a piece of paper, highlighted is a sentence, in light pink.

Her heart is only safe when her love is true and unfettered. 

Your head is reeling, he hasn’t stopped thinking about you. He spent his holidays researching you, your kind. He knows you didn’t lie to him. 

Tears begin to spill onto the old parchment, the tears you haven’t shed in the past two months resurfacing, as you violently jerk and sob in front of him. You missed him.

Eddie quickly steps into your apartment and closes the door, enveloping you in a hug. And it feels good for your heart, a soothing balm for all the cracks and wounds it’s suffered. 

“It’s okay, witchy, you can let it out” he says, as you continue to sob on his shoulder. Soft shushing sounds as he caresses your hair “Shhh…shhh… I’ve got you” and it’s like he’s never left. 

“I’m here now, I’m not leaving” his assurance makes your body feel whole again. He sits you both down on the couch. 

“Witchy, I didn’t stop thinking about you for a second. I would see you everywhere, I thought I was going crazy” he begins, and maybe he sees a twinkle in your eye, something weak, almost like a heartbeat being revived. 

“I thought going to Hawkins, just to distance myself would change things. But I’d keep myself awake thinking about you, all the time, wondering if you were doing okay.” His hand brushes yours, as you wipe your tears with the sleeve of your sweater. 

“I would see you at work, or out and about and you looked so sad. And I just couldn’t explain to myself what happened to you, until I came across that book” he finishes.

And in turn, you don’t say anything, you just kiss him. It’s wet and messy with the tears and the saliva, but he immediately kisses you back, cradling your face in his hand. Your heart beats faster than it has in a while, and it’s like magically, your skin has a bit more color to it. 

And Eddie sees the stars in your eyes again. 

When you detach you just lay your head on his chest. You listen for his heartbeat, lulling you into a deep sleep, the best sleep you’ve had in two months. He follows you not soon after, Circe on his lap, as he falls into slumber with a peaceful smile on his face. 

Once awoken from your sleep, you go make a cup of tea for the both of you.

“Witchy?” your head lifts at the nickname as you pour him his tea.

 “So, are you a witch, a mage or a sorceress?” 

You just roll your eyes and kiss him again. 

a word about my taglist- if you ask to be put on it, and went through the trouble of filling out the form, all i ask in return is that you interact with my stuff in a meaningful way. plain likes really don't get you anywhere on here, and i am asking you in the nicest possible way. tysm <3 taglist form here

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[tragedybunny]

Dance With Me Under the Diamonds, See Me Like Breath in the Cold - Astarion x F!Reader

I've been waiting to write this for some time. I'm absolutely thrilled with it and I hope you think it's beautiful.

Reader and Astarion have come a long way since that meeting on the beach. They've made it all the way to their wedding.

“Where in the hells is Gale?” Astarion fusses while fidgeting with the brocade crimson overcoat he’s wearing. “That man is always late.”

“He’ll be here Love,” you give him a small kiss on his cheek and take his hand, trying your best to keep things calm. "He's not even actually late yet."

“Still haven’t found patience to be a virtue I see,” Shadowheart strolls over to the two of you where you wait under an arbor of night-blooming jasmine, her arm hooked in Lae’zel’s.

“Would you expect any different,” Lae’zel adds a wide smile to her words, an attempt to make it clear she’s joking. The Githyanki has certainly seen her share of change since you met her, really hadn’t you all though?

“While I’m glad you two have finally developed a sense of humor, I’d rather not be the subject of it.” You can feel his agitation rising and it’s your turn to silently plead with the universe for Gale to hurry up.

“Perhaps he’s nervous,” Lae’zel turns to her partner, pretending Astarion isn’t right there fuming.

“I am not!” Before he gets any more worked up, they both pull the pair of you into a sudden embrace, leaving Astarion stuttering and you trying not to giggle at his expense.

“Congratulations you two, we’ll go mingle and pray for Gale’s safety if he’s any later,” The two of them join arms again and make their way back over to the crowd greeting an enthusiastic Mol and her gang of children that’s expanded beyond just the original tieflings. They’re becoming quite the criminal enterprise. There are so many people here, lives you’ve both touched. Originally you’d planned to just stay at your little house for the event, but when more requests to attend kept coming, you had to choose somewhere else. Duke Ravenguard had graciously offered you private use of Bloomridge Park.

“You are nervous, aren’t you,” you whisper mischievously and watch him try to hide it.

“Of course not, I managed to convince you to come this far, now it’s all formality,” your heart skips a beat when he smiles, the tips of fangs peeking out from under his lip. Smiles like that were all too rare when you first met him.

“I don’t recall needing much convincing.” Truthfully, you don’t remember what had brought the subject up, but Astarion had reminded you that it wasn’t a point, legally speaking, as neither of you technically existed.

“It doesn’t have to be in an official record anywhere, it’s just a promise we would make to one another. And we do know the perfect Cleric for a nighttime ceremony.” The way he’d just stood there for a moment you thought you'd said something wrong. Perhaps it was bringing up a Cleric and making it a sworn oath, he didn’t exactly have any love for religion. But then he was dropping to his knees, taking your hands in his, and begging you to be his wife. It was appropriately dramatic for him. And now, here you were, gathered with friends and found family, waiting on a late wizard.

“Brother!” Beside you, Astarion braces and a pale figure collides with him, embracing him tightly

“Hello Dal,” he gingerly returns her hug, as you notice Aurelia remaining a respectful distance behind them. “It’s good to see the both of you too,” he nods in Aurelia’s direction. His relationship with his “siblings” is complicated, but the horror they shared bonds them, and some of them have tried to make a family out of what is left to them. Dalyria seems to be the most persistent, she even had the two of you come visit their home in the Underdark.

“I’m so happy for you Astarion,” she finally releases him but leaves a hand on his arm fondly. “You’ll have to come visit again. I’ll even make Petras promise to behave.”

There’s turmoil in him only you can see, he would love to forget about anything that reminds him of Cazador, but the sisterly love Dal tries to give him is something he’s missed in his life. “At least it will be safer for him that way.”

“Stop,” she smiles and gives him a peck on the cheek. “We’ll talk more later.” As she walks away, Aurelia gives a stiff wave.

“His time is up, he's de-” A flash of light interrupts and when it fades two figures are standing amongst the crowd, a wizard you know well and one you briefly met.

“Sorry for the wait,” Gale begins awkwardly, trying to ignore Astarion’s considerable glare, “we were occupied in a bit of an undertaking…”

“But I am sure you will find the reasons most acceptable,” Elminster takes over, giving your floundering friend a reprieve.

Another flash of light as two more figures appear and you can't believe your eyes. Your heart leaps and you shout inadvertently. "Karlach! Wyll!" Without a second thought, you launch yourself at both of them, Astarion following along more reservedly.

"Steady on there, Soldier," Karlach pulls you into a smothering hug.

"How," you ask, smoothing the cream lace of your dress as she lets you go, still stunned she's outside Avernus without exploding.

"Wizards," Wyll smiles, glancing at Gale and Elminster. "We had to find a way back, there's no way we'd miss this."

"It won't hold forever, but we think we've got a way I can come back for visits. Until we get something permanent. Good news is Zariel's seemed distracted by something lately."

"I suppose overall this is an appropriate excuse for being late," Astarion finally relents.

"Aww, come on Fangs, don't be sour, it's your wedding." Karlach has a wicked gleam in her eye.

"Do not," but it's too late, the tiefling picks him up in a crushing hug. "I missed you too Karlach."

Tears suddenly start to form in your eyes, seeing them all together again, it was something you feared might never be. Wyll gives Asatrion a less brutal greeting and you turn to Elminster. "Thank you. You will stay right," it's the least you can do.

"Gale has assured me there are to be many culinary delights after, and of course, I've never seen a vampire spawn get married. So I believe I shall."

"Ah. I see Father made it," Wyll waves to Duke Ravengaurd who had been waiting a respectful distance away. "Best go see him, we'll catch up more after."

"You both better save a dance for me," Karlach calls over her shoulder, taking his arm, and kissing his temple.

"Tell me you have them," Astarion has fixed his attention back on Gale, and you rush to his side before he can begin another tirade.

"Worried I would eat them?" Gale has recovered himself from Astarion’s initial onslaught and is smiling brightly.

"Yes," your beloved is still in no mood for jokes.

"Honestly Astarion," you give him a look.

"Ugh, fine, I'll calm down. Once he hands them over." You're lost as to what Gale has that's so important considering the occasion.

"Never change my friend," he laughs and pulls a small box from a pocket on his robes and opens it gently. Inside there are two gold rings with small red stones set in them, you can feel the hum of magic in them.

“Sending Stones?” You glance at Astarion as he takes the box from Gale.

For a moment he seems almost shy about it. “I thought it would be nice if we were always able to speak to each other, no matter what. I know it’s not feasible to never be separated.” The two of you had spent almost every moment of the last couple of years in each other’s presence, but as Astarion continued to heal, he seemed more comfortable with time spent apart.

“You’re adorable, you know that,” your lips brush the tip of his nose, the gift is an incredibly sweet sentiment, and you’re so proud of how far he’s come.

Under the right circumstances, vampires actually can blush. “I..” he starts, sounding like he’s going to grouse about something, probably being called adorable in front of everyone, but stops. “I don’t know if I’ll ever understand why you think that my Love, after everything I’ve done.”

You reach up to brush his cheek and run a finger through his curls. “That wasn’t who you really are.”

“I take it, we're ready.” Isobel joins you under the arbor, eyes already fixed on the moon above, and you both nod in response. “Then let us begin,” her voice carries to the crowd and silence falls. “We come here, under Our Lady’s Light, to bless this couple and sanctify their bond.”

You honestly don’t remember many of Isobel’s words after that as Astarion takes your hand and you get lost in his soft, crimson eyes. Maybe it’s a bit terrible of you to ask Selune’s blessing and then not pay attention, but you think she can understand. “The rings,” Isobel prompts and Astarion retrieves them from his pocket, opening them so the Cleric can bless them. “May the Moonmaiden’s light ever guide your hearts toward each other.” A nearly imperceptible mote of silver light seems to land on them and lends the jewels in them an unearthly glow.

Astarion tenderly picks one up as you proffer your finger. Isobel had agreed to let you both speak your own vows, as long as they didn’t directly offend any of Selune’s teachings. You’d reassured Astarion every step of the way that you didn’t need it to be a sworn oath in front of clergy, but he’d oddly insisted, saying he wanted to swear himself to you to the fullest. “As long as it’s Isobel though, she’s the only trustworthy one.” Shadowheart was still figuring out how much religion she wanted in her life, though it seemed Selune was patient as she continued to have a Cleric's gifts.

The ring slips on your finger perfectly and your heart stutters, your vision getting watery again. You do the same for him in turn and you both entwine your hands, speaking in unison. “Unto thee, I vow, mine heart and home, mine life and love, for now, and all seasons. Let me never from thy side be parted, and unto thee, no evil do. Until, at last, my life shall leave me, this my beloved, is my pledge to you. So I do swear.”

“And so sworn before our Lady, I do pronounce thee wed.” The crowd behind you applauds, and you can barely see Astarion through the tears.

Lae’zel and Karlach are shouting raucously, “Kiss! Kiss!”

You start to lean forward and notice his eyes are just as wet as yours. “Hells, why did I agree to do this in public,” he laughs, dabbing his cheeks with the cuff of his sleeve.

“You couldn’t miss being the center of attention,” your laugh is lost in a happy sob. “Damn it, kiss me before I pass out or something.”

Softly, he pulls you in, lips finding yours. The chaste peck turns deeper, giving the crowd what they want judging by the noise. But then something unexpected happens, there’s the tinkle of mischievous laughter, as though a woman stands near to you. A voice that’s both honey-sweet but radiating power whispers in your ear, “congratulations my dear child,” and you feel a surge of fae-touched magic, reminding you of that day you took a different oath.

The kiss breaks and Astarion is staring at you, surprise clearing away his tears. “I know you.”

Everything goes numb in the rush of terror that follows, he’d learned some of who you were before the Nautiloid, but there was much still to tell. “Astarion I’m so-”

A slender finger is pressed to your lips. “Hush Love, tomorrow. And it changes nothing, I still love you with all my unbeating heart. Now let’s indulge everyone since they came all this way to celebrate us.”

The night is full of feasting, drinking, song, and dancing. The two of you mingle with old friends and those whom you met only briefly, the scents of a delectable feast wafting through the air. When the music starts, you share a waltz under the night sky, Astarion holding you close and whispering in your ear, “love you Sunlight.”

True to her word, Karlach insists on a dance with both of you, surprising you with her talent for it. “I’ve been teaching her,” Wyll looks over at her and Astarion lovingly from where he’s dancing with you. “Once you find a safe place to rest, Avernus can be a bit boring.”

You stumble across Lae’zel, angrily giving gold to Mol and her crew. “She lost a bet,” Mol says proudly.

“Oh really, and what sort of scam bet did you get her to agree to, my favorite tiny criminal” Astarion asks fondly. Mol comes to visit you sometimes and you’ve decided you’d rather not know what he’s been teaching her.

“She thought you might light on fire as soon as it got religious,” Mol laughs and scampers off.

Astarion pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’ve seen me in temples before.”

“Chk, but never swearing an oath.”

“She has a point,” you nudge him playfully.

“Oh you are going to pay for that later,” he leans in to nip at your neck, causing you to shiver.

Dawn nears much too soon and you can see some of his happiness evaporating. There still was no solution you’d found to let him live in the light. “We should go,” you whisper in his ear, “what’s a wedding without the wedding bed?” Ever so lightly, you let your tongue brush against his ear, a spot of divine torment for him you’ve found, and listen as he gasps softly.

“Indeed my Love,” his mood revives and the two of you make your good-byes, your friends having promised to clean up the aftermath of the night. A young woman you think you recognize passes you an open bottle of wine on the way out of the park, “a gift from summer’s best,” she says and it fills you with a strange sensation for a moment before Astarion’s mouth is on yours again.

Your house isn’t far from Bloomridge and the two of you stroll the streets in a blissful, dreamy state, wrapped in each other’s arms, sharing drinks from the wine that tastes of sweet berries and summer rains. Lights dance in the morning mists and everything feels transcendtly perfect as you ascend the steps to your home. Astarion pins against your front door, kissing you hungrily and letting his hands wander your body. “My wife,” he breathes against your skin as his lips travel down your neck.

Heat sparks inside you, ravenous for him. “My husband,” you sigh, lost in your love for him.

[lazyjellyfish300]

DD part 5

Fem Reader x Miguel O'Hara who is your Uber Driver

Synopsis- fem reader drinks too much and the bartender calls a random Uber for her which happens to be Miguel O'Hara himself. Her friends suck and ditch her. There's a lot of tension on the ride home...

Chapters: Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3 1, Part 3 2 , Part 4

T/W: 18+ only, minors DNI, some sexual fantasizing/arousal/tension, danger, insecurity, blood, cleaning wounds, age gap (reader 26, Miguel 34), inspired by the original comic

@mysteris-things

@averagefloydlover

@roserfz27

@latenightcravingz

Aladdin and Jasmine vibes! I can show you the world... 😏😏🌎 Or Edward Cullen coded! (Hold on tight spider monkey 🕷️)this one took me forever to finally sit down and do. Hope you enjoy 🖤 thanks as always for the support 🖤

----------

You looked like you had seen a ghost as you just stared at Miguel on your doorstep, mouth agape, clutching your blanket like you were clutching pearls.

The corner of Miguel's lip twitched up a little bit when he saw your messy bun and blanket cape hanging off your shoulders.

"Can I come in? I'll explain everything..."

"What the hell happened to you, Miguel?"

Your eyes rake over him with worry as he steps inside your small apartment, the view of his wounds becoming more evident.

"You look like you've been in war or something..."

Miguel makes a tiny scoff at that.

"Not quite, but it's a long story..."

Your eyebrows raise.

"You didn't answer my calls or texts."

"I know, and I'm so so sorry."

"Your eyes..." You narrow your eyes as you look up into his new crimson irises, feeling the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

"Who are you? My Miguel has brown eyes..." you back up and gasp when you hit the wall.

Miguel keeps stepping closer to you but moves his hands in the surrender position. His eyes start to plead once more.

"Baby, it's me....it's still Miguel, something happened to me at work. It's a long story but, I had an accident with one of the gene altering machines and it changed a few things about me. But it's still me baby. I'm still your boyfriend and if you let me, I'll explain everything..."

Your eyes widen with horror when you notice sharp talons protruding from his fingertips and the two more prominent canines in the front of his mouth as he speaks.

You loosen the tension in your body a little bit, but can't shake the unsettling feeling lingering in your chest at this new version of himself standing before you.

"I'm scared, Miguel."

Miguel whispers, "You don't need to be, I'm still me, I'm-"

He catches a glimpse of himself in your hallway mirror. He pauses and looks at himself, examining his talons, fangs, and noticing his crimson eye color for the first time. His jaw tenses, eyes closed, trying to fight back the tears of frustration he can feel starting to gather behind his eyelids.

You feel a rush of guilt at your reaction at first and go to touch his shoulder, but you notice a large cut on his right arm that's started to ooze a little bit.

You jump into caretaker mode. "Just go sit on the couch, let me see if I have something for that."

Miguel gave you a feeble nod and sauntered into the living room, plopping himself on the couch, rubbing his face with the heel of his palm. The beaded sweat on his brow mixing with some of the wetness from his eyes.

He was still shirtless and seemingly unphased by the fact that the laceration on his right arm had started to bleed a little more. His mind was racing, trying to wrap itself around these seemingly small, yet drastic changes in his appearance.

He was still extremely handsome. But he wasn't expecting his eye color to change. That part bothered him the most. It was the trait he got from his mother, and the part of him he shared with his brother and his daughter. Now, he felt strange, alien. It felt so personal, almost like now he was occupying the body of someone else. He quietly swore revenge on the bastards that did this to him: Tyler Stone and Aaron Delgado.

He zoned out while sitting on your couch, as though at any time he was expecting to be ripped out of this trance, awoken from this nightmare he seemed to find himself in.

You dart to your bathroom and dig underneath your sink. Makeup products, shampoo bottles, hygiene products, hair scrunchies, and old random medications being tossed aside on the floor in your frantic search. Then you finally find your first aid kit.

You place the kit on your coffee table and help Miguel wash off the cuts on his arms with some water, dabbing the excess blood away with gauze pads and applying some Neosporin and fresh bandages on top.

He watched your face as you worked and took care of him, how your eyes narrowed in concentration, and how you held your breath as you dabbed at his open wounds, trying your best not to hurt him.

He couldn't help but feel a rush of affection for you. He had braced himself for you possibly cussing him out and turning him away, still upset with him for ignoring your calls and texts and leaving you stranded on what was supposed to be a meaningful second date that you had put so much thought into. But, here you were cleaning him up, being so patient with him and concerned with his well-being.

While you helped patch him up, he told you everything. He explained the superhuman project that Tyler put him in charge of and how the young test subject died under his watch and how she haunted his dreams. He realized that he couldn't continue and tried to hand in his resignation, but then Tyler and Aaron pulled the ultimate betrayal and tried to kill him in the process. He described his newfound powers to you, your eyes growing wider and wider at the incredulousness of the whole story. You felt like you were looking down at yourself as if you were in a movie.

These things don't happen...

But, you listened earnestly, eager to show Miguel that despite him letting you down, you were willing to hear him out and do whatever you could to help him. But, the situation seemed to become more and more precarious than you originally thought as he recounted it to you.

You sat in silence for a few moments after he told you everything, trying to let the information sink in and digest it fully. A sick feeling appeared in your stomach when you realized,

"Am I in danger, Miguel? Do you think your boss would come after me for being your girlfriend?"

Miguel took a deep breath. "That's the part I don't know for sure. The news reported that I was dead, but I know Tyler. He's not foolish. He's smart and he doesn't do things half assed or leave business unfinished. He'll more than likely try and come after you or me, or anyone we know. That's why I need to try and convince my brother Gabriel to take Gabi and my mother out of state. I would've gone there first, but I couldn't live with myself if they hurt Gabi. This will only be just for a few days until I can make sure they're off my back."

He envelopes your hands in his.

"And in the meantime, I'll stay with you as long as I need to make sure you're safe. I know by me being here I put you in harm's way. But I won't let them harm you. Not as long as I'm breathing.." he wipes a tear that escaped the corner of your eye, his heart wrenching at the fact that he put you in this situation himself.

You can't speak right away, so you simply nod slowly, the seriousness of the situation settling in your stomach and flooding it with dread. "If you say so. I know when you broke your last promise to me, that you didn't break it on purpose... But I can't help but feel like I'm gonna lose you. What if something happens to you or me?" your lip trembles.

Miguel's gaze saddens and he squeezes your hands, scooting closer so both of his knees are touching yours.

"I'm not going to let it happen. I'll stay with you all night and all week if I need to." He presses a kiss into your forehead with a small smile. "Why don't we have a redo of our movie night I missed?"

He earns a small smile from you in response, and after holding him for a few moments, you let him change into a spare hoodie and sweatpants your brother left behind when he visited a few months back. He borrowed your phone and called Conchata and Gabe, pacing in your kitchen. You were able to catch some of Conchata's distressed voice on the other line, half scolding and half crying.

"You had me worried sick! I turn on the news and I see your bloody shirt plastered on the front of the TV! My son is trying to put me in the crazy house, ay dios mio...."

You felt your heart break a little bit when you heard the small voice of Gabi on the other line, sobbing because she missed her papa and wanted him to come home, and Miguel's gentle parenting side come through as he spoke to her in a soft soothing voice.

"I know, Bumblebee...some stuff came up at work and Papa needs to take care of it. Just for a little longer. And then I'll come home as soon as I can, I promise. Abuela and Tio have a fun trip planned for you. Can you be good for them and take care of them until Papa gets home?"

A small tearful yes came from the other line and Miguel felt a lump in his throat.

"I love you to the stars, mija."

He spoke to Gabe last and calmly instructed him to take his family out of state, anywhere as long as it was far away until he could be sure Tyler and law enforcement weren't still on his trail and targeting anyone he knew.

"Alright bro...I'll see what I can do...but bro, mom's freaking out. Don't ever do that shit to me again. I thought I was gonna have to take her to the hospital, she's been driving me up the wall. And Gabi... Gabi's a mess, man. I was thinking we'd go..."

"Don't tell me where you're going," Miguel hissed. "I don't know who might be listening to our conversation. Just get out as soon as you can, please."

"Bro, it's literally 9 pm..."

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just get my emergency credit card from Gabi's backpack and pay for the whole thing. I'll take care of it."

"Say no more, I'll take them tonight."

Miguel rolled his eyes a little bit but sighed with gratitude. "I owe you big time."

"Yeah, yeah, thank me later. Just don't get killed and don't get reported missing or dead on the news again, kay?"

After Gabe hung up, he told Gabi they were going to take her on a surprise trip to Boston to try and get her excited and ease her mind about being away from her dad for so long.

Gabi perked up a little bit, wiping her tears as she eagerly went to pack her bag up with her favorite squishmallows. Conchata started to cuss again, but quieted down when Gabriel mentioned he'd give her a spa day in Boston, courtesy of Miguel's Platinum American Express.

Miguel set your phone down on the counter with a sigh and came over to you, taking you in his arms and you leaning against his broad chest once more, letting all tension in your body go.

"You okay?" Miguel kisses your forehead.

You don't say a word but nod into his chest, and he gives a small chuckle.

"Do you wanna go on an adventure?" He asks in a soft voice.

You pull your head away for a moment and look up at him with an arched brow. "What do you mean?"

"I wanna show you the city. But not in the way you'd think." He smiles at you, excited. "You're gonna see what it's like to be me. Show you a bit of what it's like to swing from buildings and see everything from a bird's eye view."

You scoff a bit and it turns into a laugh. "You're not serious."

"I am." He takes your hands in his, rubbing the back of them with his thumbs. "Do you trust me?"

Your smile fades slowly as you gaze into his eyes. There's not a shred of dishonesty in them.

"Yes, I do." You say softly.

He pulls you in and plants another kiss on your forehead. "You'll want to wear something warm. It gets breezy."

You raise your eyebrows but take his advice and go into your room and change into his black hoodie from the first night you met. When you come back out, he beams at you.

"You kept it! It looks so much better on you..." Miguel feels a rush of desire at the sight of you wearing his clothes and hopes the lust doesn't become too obvious as he looks you up and down.

Your face heats up. "Thank you..."

"Of course," he says quietly, taking you by the hand.

You two go outside onto your small patio and he looks down at you with a smile.

"You ready? You're gonna have to hold on tight."

Your teeth chatter a little bit from the wind chill and you nod, standing on your tiptoes, locking your arms around his neck.

Miguel smirks a little bit. "You'll have to get closer than that."

In one fluid motion, he bends down, grabbing the back of your thighs and picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist.

You gasp as you become eye level with him, straddling him with your legs and arms. The heat and tension between you two suddenly being dialed up ten notches.

Miguel goes breathless for a moment, staring at your lips. His mouth opens slightly and he tightens his grip on your thighs, wanting to just take you right then and there. He swallows after a moment and clears his throat, desperately trying to refocus his mind on the city below him to stifle his emerging hard on.

"Just hold on tight, let me know if you want me to stop." He says gently to you.

You let out a high pitched screech which stalls in your throat as he shoots a red web onto the top of the neighboring building behind you and suddenly the cold air is assaulting your face, rendering you speechless as the city below you zips past at a dizzying pace and Miguel lands on top of the target, jolting you slightly and you scrambling to retighten your grip around his body.

Miguel looks down at you and giggles. "You doing alright, amor? The first one is the scariest."

You pant, out of breath, your eyes darting around you, your brain struggling to register the unbelievable event that just took place. The smog of the city hung in a thick layer along the cityscape, just barely masking the faint light of the waxing gibbous moon.

The night lights and obnoxious billboards of Brooklyn are suddenly at your level as you marvel at the bird's eye view, the hum of traffic, faint yells from disgruntled citizens, and distant sirens vibrating in the distance, a soft stream of snowflakes begin to fall from the grey clouds above.

"It's... incredible." Your breath hangs in the air from the cold. "What is that shooting from your arm?" You look at him in disbelief.

"They're webs." Miguel smiles. "My DNA was spliced with a spider, and so now I've inherited spider-like abilities, including webbing."

You smile and shake your head, in awe of him as his handsome face looks back at yours.

"This...doesn't feel real."

Miguel smiles and leans in, whispering in your ear. "But it is. Better hold on tight again."

You squinch your eyes shut and brace yourself and suddenly you're being catapulted, again and again as you swing from building to building, the outline of the Manhattan borough across the south end of the East River coming closer and closer into view.

Finally, you two stop at the top of the J Condominium, a tall skyscraper just at the river's edge, the view of Manhattan directly across the fridgid dark water dividing the two boroughs. Miguel gently lets you down, and your jaw falls open as you walk a little closer to the end of the building.

**photo taken by Chris Stevens-Yu retrieved from Google, the view from the top of the J Condominium building in Brooklyn, imagine covered with a thin layer of snow in December**

"Careful!" Miguel's arm reached out, a red web attaching itself to the back of your hoodie, yanking you sharply backwards and flipping you around, knocking the wind out of you as you collide into his chest.

Miguel barely budges, his muscular frame unphased as you gasp and wheeze for a moment.

"Sorry, amor. You need to watch your footing," he teases, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

After you catch your breath, you sigh, looking up at him a little miffed. "That hurt."

The corner of Miguel's mouth raises a little, still looking down at you. "Sorry."

"I hate you." you whisper sarcastically, slowly finding yourself growing weak as he doesn't break his gaze from you.

"That's too bad," he mutters.

He can't hold back anymore and takes your face in his hands, pressing his soft lips tenderly against yours. Electricity sparks and and kissing this man is suddenly the only thing you want to do for the rest of your life. All you know is the way he slowly begins opening his mouth against yours, scooping your lips in between his, you're melting.

You inhale sharply and run your fingers through the back of his hair. He mumbles your name into your mouth and holds you tight against his body as his hands make their way all across your back, squeezing your ass, feeling you and touching you as though the warmth from your body is responsible for the oxygen being drained from his lungs as he kisses you ardently.

And so, you shared your first kiss with Miguel against the New York City skyline. Two souls meshing into one as the world around you ceased to exist. The concept of time crumbling away as you felt yourself sinking into him deeper and deeper. The flames between you two fanning into a wildfire, setting your hearts ablaze, and your lives alight as you knew it. You wanted to burn this moment into your memory for as long as you could.

He moans softly and pulls away for air for a moment, keeping one hand on the small of your back, and one on the side of your neck, his minty breath tickling your nose.

"I'm in love with you..." he whispers gently, pressing his forehead against yours. His crimson eyes silently pleading with you that the only words to leave your mouth next are the reciprocation of his love.

But, as soon as those tender words hit your eardrums, a surge of bliss flows through your whole body as though you've never been so sure of something in your whole life.

"I'm in love with you too..." you whisper, your palms caressing his face.

He breathes a sigh of relief.

"I'm the happiest man alive right now..." his eyes coat with a thin layer of tears, and he catches your lips against his once more.

Your mind can only think of one thing as you continue to kiss him passionately into the night. You're hopelessly in love with Miguel O'Hara, and this is only the beginning.

------

That same night, miles away.

A black, unmarked suburban lays in quiet, menacing wait in the shadows across the street from your apartment complex, a tall, burly man with curly brown hair in the driver's seat.

Tyler Stone is seated in the passenger side and takes a long drag from his cigar, his face still splotched purple from his beating. He scowls at Aaron in the backseat seated next to another brawny accomplice, and rips the pair of binoculars out of his hands with Aaron whimpering quietly in response.

"They're not even home, you goddamn idiot." Tyler growled.

Aaron gives a small groan. "How much longer, boss?"

Tyler exhales, a dark cloud of smoke hot boxing the inside of the dark vehicle.

"As soon as he leaves the little broad by herself. "

------

Part 6

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

In one of the episodes, Jun mentioned that she wanted to pierce her ears twice. in your version she has already done this?

oh dude you either have memory of a steel trap or someone had a good rewatch recently! But, wow, tbh I do not remember this and in HoM AU designs I only delibarately added earrings/piercings to Kim and Jake to sort of break their design more from their og looks (especially Kim lol, I barely changed her anything xD) but also for practical in-verse reasons. I didnt even think about Jun or anyone else... but you know? I like it, so now she does!

AND now she got 7 of them!!! Some are just simple hoops or studs, but others are magical gem stones for emergencies (small spells and protections), and she can just swap them out when needed.

After you mentioned it, I wonder why out of all characters Jun is like almost the only one without piercings of any sorts? I mean even Lila got a fang earring and she has been human-shaped for like less than a year?? Which led me to a headcanon:

What if Jun's invulnerability is so strong she couldn't even get piercings in a normal human way? So, going with her Mom or her friends to get her ears pierced in a mall was out of the question. She and Jasmine had to enchant a needle/make a spell (or maybe just visit a monster beauty salon), just for her to do it and after they just show up to her parents like: "Oh look Barbara, Michael, I took Jun to pierce her ears, doesn't she look wonderful?'

And later Jun just took the needle/spell to covertly make more piercings with her friends, which Ophelia was more than happy to do. The other three she got a bit later over the years. ;D

[elrielmoments]

A hint of Jasmine

Throughout Acotar, the Jasmine flower is mentioned a couple of times. First, in relation to Elain and second, in relation to the Night Court. Today I’m going to be breaking down some facts and a little bit of history about this beautiful flower that blooms at night and how it is both attached to Elain and the Night Court.

Here is a quote from the ACOTAR series that shows Elain smells like Jasmine: “Elain was in the private library. Nesta knew it before she’d cleared the stairs, covered in dust from the library. Her sisters delicate sent of Jasmine and Honey lingered in the red-stoned hall.”

Here is a quote from the ACOTAR series that shows the Night Court / Verlaris smells like Jasmine: “I smelled Jasmine first—then saw stars flickering beyond glowing pillars of moonstone that framed the sweeping view of endless snowcapped mountains. ‘Welcome to the Night Court,’ was all Rhys said.”

Here are two quotes that show the Night Court has Jasmine flowers:

“Nesta ran a finger over her ivory and obsidion place setting, examining the silverware and vines of night-bloomimg Jasmine engraved around the hilts.”

and

“Great scaled black beasts were carved into those gates, all coiled together in a nest of claws and fangs, sleeping and fighting, some locked in an endless cycle of devouring each other. Between them flowed vines of Jasmine and moon flowers.”

What is Jasmine? Jasmine is a rich and flourishing plant and is one of the most beautiful and fragrant flowers in the world.

What does the Jasmine flower represent? Jasmine flowers symbolize love, beauty and sensuality. It’s pure white blossoms also represent purity.

In the ACOTAR series it is said by the Archeron sisters mother that Elain “shall wed for love and beauty.”

What is the language of the Jasmine flower? In the language of flowers, the Jasmine flower is saying “I care deeply” or “I am with you in spirit.”

What is the Biblical meaning of the Jasmine name? The meaning of Jasmine is “Gift from God.”

Reminder: Azriel and Elain’s name meanings in Hebrew both have to do with God and are both connected to each other, like a puzzle piece. Azriel’s name meaning in Hebrew is “God is my help.” Elain’s name meaning in Hebrew is “God has answered me.”

What does Jasmine symbolize in Buddhism? Jasmine holds great importance in Buddhism. It symbolizes compassion, empathy and showing kindness to all living beings of the world.

A quote from Feyre about Elain in ACOWAR: “Elain had always been gentle and sweet—and I had considered it a different sort of strength. A better strength. To look at the hardness of the world and choose, over and over, to love, to be kind.”

Jasmine in Greek Mythology: In Greek Mythology, Jasmine is associated with Aphrodite, the goddess of beauty and love.

What is the emotion of Jasmine flowers? The scent of Jasmine has the abilty to relax and uplift. It is a floral, musky, sweet and sensual scent all at once.

When do Jasmine flowers bloom? Jasmine flowers bloom at night to attract nocturnal pollinators such as moths and bats. Night blooming Jasmine is also known as Lady of the night.

What does it mean to smell Jasmine at night? Smelling Jasmine at night could be a sign that the spirit of a loved one is checking in on you or wants to communicate.

What do the colors of Jasmine represent? White is for innocence. Pink is for new love. Yellow is for joy.

Diving Deeper: In some traditions, Jasmine is believed to attract positive energy, promote happiness and offer protection against negative influences. The Jasmine flower could also symbolize hope, good fortune and positive outcomes. The delicate blossoms of the flower are seen as happiness and prosperity.

[miasmaghoul]

merry crimus have some swissdew forcedfem thoughts uwu

Dew dressing up in panties and stockings for Swiss all on his own for the first time. Comes out of the bathroom all swaying hips and flowing hair, but as confident as his walk may be his face shows reservation. Flushed with nerves.

There's a bralette that goes with this set and they both know it, but it's sitting in the bathroom sink because Dew couldn't stop shivering the second he saw himself in it. It's different when Swiss isn't making him do this, and he's not quite ready for that yet.

But Swiss stares anyway, eyes wide and fangs poking out when he smiles. Tells Dew how gorgeous he looks and loves the shy way he turns his head to the side. Just for a second.

Dew puts on a little show for him, touching his own chest and legs and starting to tent the front of those lacy red panties. Swiss keeps his legs crossed and his breathing even, but everything Dew does makes him ache. He's so graceful, so fluid in a way Swiss only sees behind closed doors. He wants to memorize every motion, every twirl and bend and flick of his hair.

Dew, though, takes his silence and focus as scrutiny, and some of his already shaky confidence falters. He stands a little ways from Swiss, crosses his arms over his chest.

"Is this...are you...should I be doing something else?"

Swiss frowns, Dew shrugs.

"I can't...tell if you like it," he mumbles, embarrassed. "Lemme - lemme go change -"

Swiss reaches out then, gets a large hand around Dew's wrist. Pulls him close until Dew's standing between his knees, until he can smell something sweeter than Dew's usual cologne. Perfume? It smells like summertime fruit and jasmine and it makes Swiss throb.

"Sweetheart," he coos, soft, "you have no idea how much I like this."

Swiss guides Dew's hand to his crotch and Dew sighs when he finds Swiss hot and so, so hard behind his zipper. His cheeks go even pinker and Swiss gives him a breathless little laugh.

"Look what you do to me, babygirl."

Dew sucks air through his teeth, shudders, and as he straddles his lap Swiss silently prays he doesn't spill in his pants.

[toulousewayne]

Batfamily Halloween Special🎃

Bruce was throwing his annual Halloween Costume Party, and let every year all the kids always dress up. Most of kids weren’t in the Manor as they would arrive later to join in the spooky festivities.

Alfred was overseeing the staff with last minute decorations. Fake blood, cobwebs, fake skulls, fog machine. Anything you could find at your local Spirt Halloween Alfred had gotten to first. The DJ was finishing his last few technical checks and the catering company was always done with the last few creative dishes.

Meanwhile, upstairs Damian was fidgeting in his sit,”Are we almost Sister?”

“Hold still or you makeup will get messed up.” Y/n was the only person home that could help Damian finish with his costume. After a few moments she pulled back and smiled,”All done.”

Damian flung out of his seat and into his sister’s bathroom to look at his makeup.

“Wow, you managed to make me look the skeleton from that film Grayson made me watch.”

“Jack, you look like Jack Dames.” She took a comb and finished smoothing out his hair. “What’s your costume?” He inquired taking the combing to fix his own hair.

She went into her closet and came out dressed as cowgirl Barbie from the movie with hat and boots.

“Now go put on your costume Dames Dick said he’s five minutes away with the girls.” She fixed her wig and adjusted her scarf. Damian walked to his room around the corner and changed into the costume his brother had gotten for him a few days ago.

When he emerged from his room, Dick and Y/n were laughing at a his phone and noticed Damian.

“Aww Little D, you look so frightening.”

“Tt. And what are you supposed to be Grayson.”

“Aladdin,Kori’s running late but she’s going to be Jasmine.” The three went downstairs which was now in full effect and Alfred greeted the siblings dressed as Count Dracula.

“Nice fang Alife.” Alfred smiled at the three and offered them red punch in black and purple plastic cups. “Why Thank you Master Richard, I must stay though they do take a lot to get used to.”

Barbara arrived with Cassandra, Stephanie and Duke all dressed for the party.

“Aww Dami you look so adorable.” Steph fussed taking pictures of the youngest. He huffed and walked away into the main ballroom where the music was blasting but only a few people from Wayne Enterprise and Queen Construction had arrived.

———

Y/n snapped a few pictures with Duke and Barbara aka Spider-man and Kim Possible.

Jason arrived with Tim and Bernard not far behind him. “May wanna close that vest up Dickhead your getting cold.” He teased Dick who rolled his eyes.

“IT’s October Jason.”

“My nipples aren’t sharing at everyone entering the house.”

“Jason knock it off.” Y/n huffed, Dick self consciously pulled his vested.

The group had moved to the ballroom mintues ago and more people from Wayne Enterprises and some League members had arrived. Jason stretched standing from the table,” Okay this Skywalker needs food.”

Stephanie and Cass followed dress as the Pink and Yellow Power Rangers.

Selina entered the room dressed as Marylin Monroe and waved,”Why do glum kittens,your parents go trick or treat without you?”

Fred or Tim shook his head,” They’re not here yet, it’s just boring right now.”

Bernard played with the green scarf on his Daphne shirt.

She sighed and saw a several costumed adults and looked back the way she came. “Well looks like the Calvary just arrived. Have fun.” She slipped away into the now bigger crowd.

Members or Young Justice, Titans and Birds of Prey arrived in costumes and soon the kids mingled with their friends and went away from the table only living Y/n and Damian.

“You should ask Uncle Clark why he didn’t come.” She spoke up over the Monster Mash song.

“Tt, if he cared he would have came sister.” He spat.

She stood up from the table and turned to him, “He’s your best friend and he’s been through a lot. Maybe Halloween is just a lot for him, if you tell him how much it would mean to you to show up I’m sure he’d fly here in a heartbeat.”

Damian didn’t answer his sister but did glance across the room to Clark and Lois dressed as Frankinstein and the Bride who chatted with Diana,John and Wally dressed as a Fairy, Boxer and a Race Car Driver.

Damian grab his cup and pondered as he made his way to the refreshment table. He grabbed a few pieces of cheese and felt like his wished the night was over.

The music stopped as DJ announced the arrival of the hosts Bruce and Batmom entered the room dressed as Gomez and Mortica Adams. Once they thanked everyone for coming the party once again went into full swing and Damian slipped away into the gardens.

“Damian?” A voice called to him after what felt like a short while. Bruce sat next to him.

“Are you not having fun?”

He sighed,”Yes father the party is very good.”

Bruce was silent for a few moments and then let out his own deep sigh.”Your sister told me you miss Jon. You should call him, Clark told me the only reason he didn’t come was because he figured you wouldn’t want to participate.”

Damian turned to his father,”Really?”

Bruce smiled at his son and gave his shoulder a squeeze. “He’s your best friend, just call him.” After that Bruce returned inside and Damian remained seated.

He signed before looking at the ground.”Kent,I know listening…I think—I want you come to the party. It’s rather…dull.” He spoke barley in a whisper.

For a while it was just the distance sounds of Gotham noises and the booming sounds from the music inside and then a sudden gust of wind blew a few strands of hair.

“Hi Damian.” Damian’s gaze fell ontop the floating teen before him in full costume.

A grin painted his figured,”And what are you supposed to be Kent?”

“Uh Duh, I’m Danny Phantom.”

Damian laughed and Jon rolled his eyes.

“Come on I’m starving I heard Alfred has jalapeño poppers.” Damian joined Jon as they headed inside.

Y/n elbowed her brother and Jason spilled his punched on himself. He followed his sister’s gaze and they watch from a far.

Dick beamed as he got closer to them,”Aww Little D’s not lonely anymore.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “I don’t know how he can be, you Mother Hen him to death every two seconds.”

Dick shoved Jason and the rushed of his punched spilled on his costume. Dick nervously sprinted away with Jason bolting after him.

“Imbeciles.” Y/n sighed eating a eyeball cheese.

[olmoonlight]

♡ you alone..."

you alone can feel the gusts of the ocean in your heart. you can put your demons to sleep with sweet singing that dig their fangs into pride. you alone can force yourself to withstand any storm, to be the embodiment of tenderness or passion, pain or ecstasy. you alone have the right to decide — what are you talking about? moonlight sonata or libertango, jasmine or Lao oud, violet-black or a shade of bronze, freedom or a pool of beloved hands. you can heal yourself or pull yourself into the abyss, be a poison for others or the sun, allowing you to feel your warmth, dissolve or dissolve. you alone can give yourself the life you've always dreamed of... create yourself.

[strawberrymilk-sunshine]

May I have a yandere overblot Jamil Viper x reader please

Yes you may

(Sorry if the ending is unsatisfying, I couldn't find a good way to end it)

Warning(s): fem reader, mind control, forced kissing (bc of the mind control)

"You can do this, (Y/N)!" Kalim whisper-yelled, giving you encouragement. "And remember! If you need back up, we're right behind you!"

The plan was quite simple. You enter the main building of Scarabia dorm as bait, everyone else is hiding behind cover, unnoticed by Jamil. Jamil attempts to use Snake Charmer on you, but it is counteracted by Floyd casting Bind The Heart just a second before. You act as if you're being mind controlled, doing whatever Jamil asks you to. While Jamil is distracted, Kalim will use Oasis Maker to flood the dorm, getting the rest of the mind controlled students out of there. And by the time Jamil realizes something is wrong, the six of you are already attacking him.

Yes, this plan is very similar to the one you pulled off earlier, when Azul was pretending to be mind controlled... but the beauty of using basically the same plan twice is that Jamil will obviously think "There's no way they're dumb enough to do the same thing twice."

You're the crux of the plan.

But there's a sinking feeling in your gut... something in the back of your mind telling you this isn't going to end well.

As Jamil was praised by his subjects, you made yourself known. You didn't have to do much to make yourself known, though, you stuck out like a sore thumb among the black and red the rest of the Scarabia students were wearing- the outfit you were wearing was a short blue dress, and a crown of jasmine flowers on your head. Kalim made it for you with his magic, and though you appreciated the effort, it felt embarrassing to stand out this much.

"(Y/N), is that you? Jamil asked. What good timing you have, we were just about to begin our celebration. And thank you ever so much for allowing me to become king of Scarabia. I'm more competent than Kalim ever was, this is truly better for everyone."

"Yes, it is, Jamil." You responded, already trying to get him to gain your trust.

"(Y/N), come closer." Jamil told you. You did as asked. "The one you behold is your master. You shall answer when you are asked, and you shall obey when you are ordered."

With that, the plan was fully set in motion.

Maybe that feeling you had was wrong. Maybe everything would turn out well!

"Just so you know, (Y/N)... I'm aware your pathetic friends are here." Jamil told you. Everyone was carried out of their hiding spots by the possessed Scarabia students. "It seems I was careless, allowing all of you to keep your magic pens. Though I am surprised Kalim's party trick was useful for something other than filling a pool."

The possessed Scarabia students stole everyone's magic pens, and the staffs of Kalim and Azul, making sure none of them could use magic. And yet again, Jamil shot everybody away from here, to the edge of the desert as he did before. Everyone except for you.

"Now (Y/N)... Snake Charmer." Jamil whispered to you.

It was an indescribable pain in your head.

"(Y/N), tell me. Who is your master?"

"My master... is..." You couldn't bare the throbbing pain in your head. And then, all at once, it subsided. It was like a wave of static washed over you. Your mind was no longer your own. "My master is you, Jamil."

"Praise me."

"Your greatness knows no bounds, master Jamil. You are fit to rule Scarabia, you are fit to even rule the Land of Scalding Sands. You are a perfect leader. You excel in every class you have. Your unique magic is much more powerful than anyone else's."

"A king needs his queen, and that will be you, (Y/N)." Jamil told you. "Kiss me."

Without hesitation, you did exactly as Jamil commanded.

He enjoyed it.

You could feel his weird hair snakes sinking their fangs into you.

...

They won't be able to get back.

It was freezing at the edge of the desert, the river Kalim made has probably frozen over by now.

And without his golden cobra staff, you doubt he'd be able to use Oasis Maker again.

The only way for them to get back would be to walk.

With how long a walk it will be, Kalim will certainly freeze to death.

And Azul, Jade, Floyd, and Grim will shortly after. Even though those four have some natural resistance to the cold, they aren't completely invulnerable...

Maybe Ace and Deuce could get here in time, but you're not sure if they even saw your message.

What can you do?

What can you do to get yourself out of this situation?

Well... it seems nothing.

You very well can't get out of Jamil's mind control on your own, not unless he deactivates it, and let's be real- that isn't happening any time soon.

So what do you do?

What do you do?

What

Do

You

Do?

...

What do you do?

The simplest answer is correct.

Accept it.

Play along.

Let it happen.

Until you find a solution, that's your only option.

[triccina]

MTAS OCs

So, I'm not very good with words, I'm shy and I have social phobia... but this fandom is so good for me that I'm willing to try.

So, based on the wonderful @tinycozyoasis post, I'm going to do a little dynamic of why Lua could be your OC next friend.

Lua profile

Age: 25

Hometown: Highwind

Shipp: Logan

Occupation: Builder

Zodiac sign: Scorpio

Hobby: exploring ruins; cook; look for constellations; catalog relics.

Bad Habits: smokes when she is very stressed; she doesn't mind picking fights that she knows she won't win; She forgets to eat when she is focused on commissions and ends up fainting around town. She is extremely lazy when she is not interested.

Good Habits: she likes to train her body by jumping around the city and boxing; She frequently reads different subjects even if it causes her mental pain because she doesn't like the subject.

Sandrockers who constantly interact in the city: Andy, Qi, Nia, Heidi, Owen, Fang, X, Zeke, Mort, Grace Mabel, Capitan, Unsuur, Justice, Mi-an, Elsie, Cooper, Trudy, Jasmine, Jane.

What I, the creator, can offer: collab fan fics, fan arts, conversations about Mtas (including nsfw).

Curiosity: She has knowledge about the multiverse (if I had finished posting my fanfic this would make more sense), so it may be that the shipp doesn't interfere with the coexistence of the OCs.

🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻

I probably won't be able to message anyone if they don't give me a green flag, as I feel like it would be inconvenient (the quirks of a shy person). So if you want to send me a message, interact with the post, feel free.

Thanks for listening.

You are the best.

[spikemuthtoothfairy]

[x] @rathalascendant

James laughs softly and puffs.

"I am, Mari. Trust me, I am." He grumbles playfully, beetroot red, but flashes a good natured smile. Off to one side, just out of view it seemed, was a fairly large cup of water he'd brought with him and had been nursing for the past two hours. He takes a long drink before he manages to shuffle just enough to sit up.

"Hup-- I've got it, I think-"

The Arzuros promptly follows as best he can without really getting up. He's not fully grown yet, but he's still huge. James grunts just a little as the massive head is promptly flopped back into his crossed legs, and the Fanged Beast gets another pat on the head. One ear twitches happily.

"Its-- weird. Not bad weird though! And the fact you and your people have been nothing but welcoming is more than I ever could have hoped for. So, firstly, thank you. I don't know what I'd have done without everyone here. I'm just glad what I went through taught me how to do stuff like fish and hunt so I can help pitch in." He hums gently. "The monsters are amazing too. You really weren't kidding about how similar they are in a lot of ways to Pokemon."

A pang of homesickness. He'd find a way back, just like Mari had. Back to Jasmine, to Jade and his Pokemon.

"I have to remind myself that Armel isn't quite as smart, though. He understands me, but he's still-- well, an animal, y'know?" James smiles then. "-- He reminds me a lot of Ozzy, actually. Same big stupid face and tongue. I think that's why I latched onto him."