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devildom-moss · 1 year

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Biting their necks (Mammon, Satan, Beel, Diavolo, and Raphael)

What would happen if you bit their necks with no warning?

(A/N: What? I actually picked random characters instead of separating them into groups/categories. Wild. Has that ever happened? I think I might have just picked these five because they are the most bite-able. chomp chomp)

(Mammon x gn!MC) (Satan x gn!MC) (Beelzebub x gn!MC) (Diavolo x gn!MC) (Raphael x gn!MC)

(suggestive)

Mammon

Mammon was distracted by the horror movie he had put on to try to show off his bravery ineffectively. You, on the other hand, were distracted by his exposed shoulders and neck in that black tank top. He was so pretty – even when he was trying so hard to mask the fear on his face. It was obvious that he was scared, but he refused to look away from the screen. Fortunately, you figured out a way to give into your temptation and ease his fear by tearing his eyes from that screen. You inched closer to him in the dark.

“W-why’re ya gettin’ so close?” Mammon asked just seconds before your teeth met his warm skin.

You didn’t bite him hard – just enough for him to feel slight pressure. You flicked your tongue against his hot neck a few times. His pulse quickened against your mouth. Instinctively, he arched his neck for you. Mammon had always been so honest with his physical reactions, and it was adorable.

“H-HEY! What do ya think you're doin’?” He yelled, but he didn’t mean it angrily. You flicked your tongue over his skin again, pulling a growl that slipped into a moan from his lips. “H-hey, MC, come on.”

“Hmm?” You hummed against his skin.

“Don’t just tease me.”

Satan

You found Satan in the House of Lamentation’s library, immersed in what (judging by the cover) looked to be some steamy monster-themed romance (although the contents of the book leaned more towards erotica than romance). A faint pink blush showed on his cheeks. How could you resist teasing him just a bit? You came up behind him and bent down to place a tender kiss on his neck before sinking your teeth into him.

Without setting his book down, Satan lolled his head back and moaned mindlessly. He was surprisingly loud, so much so that you released him. That only made him whine, so you bit back down into him – using only the slightest amount of pressure. Satan’s face was vibrantly pink, but he still moaned out for you shamelessly. Running your tongue across his skin only exacerbated the moaning. Certainly, if anyone was in an adjacent room or out in the hallway, they would either be awkwardly sneaking out of earshot or rushing in to stop whatever lewd acts were occurring. But it was too late for Satan. His breath hitched and he spoke, shakily, “don’t stop. I want more. Please?”

“In here?” you asked without letting your lips leave his neck. Your teeth grazed his skin gently. Satan let out a heavy sigh.

“Yes,” Satan practically panted. His page had been marked and his book was set down in certainty of his desire. “I need you now.”

Beelzebub

Beel was in the kitchen again, but this time he was prepping dinner by cutting up vegetables for curry. He was even wearing the Devilcat apron you had bought him the other month. Watching him from the doorway, you couldn’t help but feel a bit proud of Beel: he hadn’t snacked on any of the raw vegetables yet.

“Did you get hungry, MC? Dinner will still be a while, but you can come in and snack while I cook,” Beel commented nonchalantly. You weren’t even aware that he had noticed you.

If you were being honest, Beel looked more delicious than dinner did. Although, in his defense, nothing had come together yet. As you got closer to him, the urge to take a bite came over you. You wrapped your arms around him and sunk your teeth into the base of his neck before sucking on his skin gently. Beel continued to chop vegetables, seemingly unphased. His body hadn’t even tensed at all. Disappointed, you gave him a few soft licks before releasing him.

“Do I . . . taste good, MC?” Beel asked you timidly, his face flushed pink. He set the knife on the counter and turned around so he could face you. He looked simultaneously embarrassed and hungry when he met your eyes. “Do you want to taste me more, or can I try you now?”

“What about dinner?” you questioned him.

His desire for you had overshadowed his hunger. He lifted you up and sat you down on the clean counter behind you. Beel sank to his knees and stared up at you. “It can wait a bit longer. I need an appetizer first.”

Diavolo

Diavolo was working in the council room at his desk. Barbatos had, foolishly, asked you to deliver a set of documents for Diavolo to review and sign by tomorrow morning. Perhaps it wasn’t too foolish since you both knew how much Diavolo hated paperwork, but he would be much more receptive if you were to hand it to him. Even knowing how bored and unstimulated he was, Diavolo always looked so handsome when he was working. He actually looked serious – and it wasn’t because one of the many idiots you dealt with on the daily had put you in danger this time.

You walked up to him, but he was too focused to pay you much attention. He wanted to greet you with his usual bright smile, but there was just one more paragraph left in this 29-page proposal – if you could just give him one more minute. You set the new documents off to the side and bent down to kiss the top of his head.

“One more, okay?” You whispered the words just behind his ear before nipping at his neck playfully.

Diavolo chuckled and turned to look at you. “Aren’t you frisky today. Are you trying to seduce me away from my work?”

“The opposite, actually,” you pet his head and caressed down the side of his face until your fingers were just below his chin. You ran your thumb over his lower lip. Diavolo couldn’t resist smiling. “I’m trying to encourage you to work hard by giving you a preview of what to expect once you’re finished.”

That lit a fire under him, and Barbatos decided that he would make you deliver documents more often.

Raphael

Raphael had asked you to come shopping with him for new fabric, and when it started to rain on your way back to Purgatory Hall, you both booked it the rest of the way back. Luckily, it wasn’t very far, so when you both arrived at the building, panting in the entryway, you managed to walk – or rather run – away with only a slightly damp shirt. However, Raphael still insisted you both change shirts – if for no other reason than to just avoid the discomfort of damp clothes.

He brought you into his room, and after finding a top that would fit you and a suitable replacement for his own shirt, he started to strip. It was easier than it should have been to forget how pretty Raphael could be – especially when he was quite literally damp and pathetic. You felt sinfully drawn towards him.

“Hey, Raph,” you called out to him. He let out a little “hm” as he placed his shirt in the laundry hamper. You snuck up behind him and bit into his neck below his choker – and you weren’t exactly gentle about it. His skin was cool to the touch, and it made your mouth feel even hotter against him.

“Ah- ow. Why are you putting your teeth in me?” He asked. You released him to speak but he stopped you and reached behind him to place a hand on your back. Raphael pulled you closer to his body and admitted, “n-no. Keep going. I like how it feels.”

(Barbatos, Simeon, Solomon, Thirteen, Mephistopheles version)

(Lucifer, Leviathan, Asmodeus, Belphegor version)

#mammon #satan #beelzebub #diavolo #raphael #gn!mc #obey me short fic #obey me #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me diavolo #obey me raphael

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heyidkyay · 22 days

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Pause it, play it, pause it, play it | Market girl AU

Matty x marketseller!reader

Summary: Saturday's are always the same working the stall, until a stranger stops in to disrupt your cassette display...

Authors note: A one shot for you, needed something to help me with a little writer's block so I hope it's alright! Nothing too detailed, mostly just fluff, just saw that middle picture and the idea took root:)

“Oi, Rob… You see where I set those new slips I just had?” I called out loudly, riffling my way through the boxes I’d brought over from the van that very same morning. “I swear I left them here in one of these lot.”

Rob seemed to shuffle over towards me at the beckon, peering around the tent whilst I pulled apart one box’s contents.

I huffed when I heard a familiar crunch and looked over my shoulder to see him stood there munching on an apple. “Nah, babe. Sorry. I can ‘ave a look though if you want, got Nance watchin’ out for me.” ‘Nance’ being Nancy, Rob’s massive Alsatian that had once been his grandad’s guard-dog when he’d manned the stall years back.

With a soft chuckle I pushed myself up onto my feet once more, tucking my hair behind my ears as I went.

“Have at, can’t for the life of me find them.” I told him, watching on in growing amusement as he bit down on the green fruit to hold it between his teeth whilst he mooched about the pyramid of cardboard boxes for me, “Sure you’ll still have enough left to sell? Last Saturday you ate your way through six of those, the one before that was the highest yet, at eight.”

Huffing, Rob took another bite of his apple and then shot me a wink. “Keepin’ an eye on me, are you?”

I rolled my eyes as a breathy laugh escaped me, falling against the stall’s main bench so that I could cross my arms over my chest.

A quick glance at the time told me that we still had a while yet ‘til it hit nine and the market opened properly, letting that first bit of crowd sail in. Though I’d always found it was easier most days to just enjoy the atmosphere that was Portobello, instead of focusing in on the imminent mob.

See, I’d been at the market since I were nine, working the vintage stretch with my mum and aunt, having grown all too fond of the people and their many eccentricities. Rob was of the same cloth, though a tad bit older, just enough that I’d had the fattest crush on him and that East London accent of his as a kid.

It had faded over time, mind, what with him jetting off a couple years back when he’d been a holiday rep in Ibiza and me realising that I’d wanted to try my luck at art school. Not that either of those things had worked out, which had ultimately led us back here, surprised not to be rid of the other.

He was as close as I could get to a best mate though. Strange yeah, but he was family, wasn’t he? Everyone who worked the market was.

“With an arse like that? Always.” I retorted easily enough to have him laughing along with me and shaking his head at my antics. Something he’d grown all too used to in the recent years since I’d come back and made my mark with a stall of my own.

It wasn’t anything too grand, my stall. Nothing like the tourist trapping shops that sat a little further down, but sweet enough for the likes of me and the massive music collection I managed to drag down here each weekend. Set up was always mad, yes, but with Rob, Nancy and a few other early starters, time slipped away quick enough.

“Here we go then.”

I blinked and looked back over at Rob, who was now beaming brightly at the set of LP slips I’d ordered in special, waving them about in smarmy pride. I swatted his side as I made a grab for the things, only to have him lift them up higher to where I couldn’t reach.

“Don't be a twat, pass them over. We open in five!”

Rob simply chuckled in retort, taking another chomp out of that apple of his. “A thanks wouldn’t go amiss.”

“Yeah, yeah, I would’ve gotten to it!” I swiftly shot back, jumping up to swipe them from his grasp and grinning in triumph when I managed it. He only laughed, a slight rasp working its way into it like it typically did. “Thanks.” I added after I’d thumbed through the lot, smiling up at him as he made his way to the other side of the tent.

“Buy me a pint and we’ll call it even, treacle.”

I gave him a roll of my eyes, but agreed without much fuss. “Fine, but just the one, tight arse.”

His hearty chuckle filled the steadily growing street of sellers and I watched on as he stroked Nancy’s collar before settling back in at his own stall which resided by mine.

“Penny’s take care of the pounds, my darlin’.”

I raised a single brow and tucked the slips into one of the closer vinyl cubbies- 70’s Proto-punk wasn’t much of a seller anyway. “You mean, look after the pennies and the pounds will look after themselves.”

Rob clucked his tongue, waving the correction away with the hand that held his apple core, “Alright, smart-arse. You knew what I meant.”

I smirked, tittering quietly to myself whilst he settled his usual bum bag around his hips. It suited him, I thought, the neon green pouch sitting atop that awful red and white apron he’d pinched off the butchers up in Notting Hill when he’d worked there for a weekend. Though I much preferred my own, my nephew having decked it out in all sorts of pins and patches for me a while back now.

With that Rob and I settled into our own stations, me taking perch on the old wooden stool I’d found in the back of a garden shed, and Rob being his usual loudmouth self, beckoning the arriving customers on closer.

The crowd grew bigger and bigger the closer it got to ten, lots of people stopped by to have a chat or a look round, a few purchased a couple of bits. It was mainly just the vinyls that sold these days, but I still had posters, cd’s, and even cassettes on show.

It wasn’t usual for the cassettes to get a good look over though, mainly just a ‘Oh! Do you remember them?’ and then a small laugh before people eventually moved on. Which was why I was more than a little surprised to see a figure having a right old rummage through the steady collection I owned, once I’d managed to wrap up another sale.

Glancing about, I spotted a pair of old birds flirting with Rob by the pears, Nance having gone to settle herself down by my bag in the back to hide from their gentle clucking, and how the crowded mob had thinned out a tad since most people had made their way further down the road’s neck.

I tucked the few notes I held into my pouch and stepped over a tangle of cables to make my way closer to the person, taking in their too big graphic tee and the tight zip up that had been layered over top of it. The nearer I grew the more I spotted though, the slight nod of a head as fingers worked their way deftly through the collection, the array of dark curls that poked their way out of the sides of a worn cap, and then the tiny hoop which dangled from a right earlobe.

“Looking for something specific?”

The bloke didn’t startle much, there was no real jump at the sound of my voice, only the slight tilt of his head, as though he was used to being caught off guard. I watched him closer after that, noting how his thumb trailed across one of the few Sonic Youth singles I had.

“Their ‘86 album?”

His voice was gentler than I’d first been expecting, rasped with a slight accent I couldn’t quite place. I blinked at his ask, skimming through the catalogue of tapes my mind offered me, which hardly ever seemed to move from their typical place of sorting.

“Um, top right? Should be one there, got Sister and Goo too, if I’m not wrong. Though the ‘88 album seems to be their most popular- even in cassette form.” I had rambled a tad there, I knew that much, but it was all part of the job to me. Talk and talk until they either fled the scene or decided to buy more than what they’d first come for. “You into cassettes then?”

He gave me a low chuckle and pulled away from the stand slightly, it was then that I caught sight of his face, a tad bit stubbled and lips parted almost in wait. He must’ve been closer to Rob’s age than my own.

I raised a brow when he didn’t offer me an answer, tilting my head in turn. “Or, is it a gift of some sort?” I dragged out.

With a blink, he seemed to stand a little taller and I noticed he only had an inch or two on me.

“Er, no.” He muttered, before mimicking my head’s movement and propping his elbow up on the cassette stand almost as if he was attempting to suss me out. It took a second before he finally flashed me a slow but genuine smile, “Looking for a certain sound. Some tapes sound better than the actual record so I figured here would be my best bet.”

I hummed, crossing one ankle over the other. “The further back you go you can hear it, but most of their stuff's good either way.”

He smirked as he settled in further, looking out at me from under the brim of his cap, “Aren’t you meant to be selling it to me?”

My laughter couldn’t have been helped because he did have a point there, only… “It’s just not everyday that someone pops by to talk about music mediums with me.” I argued, all too pleased when I heard him give another hearty chuckle in reply, “So forgive me for my excitement.”

“Will do.” He simpered, eyes flicking down to where he still held the Evol tape, I reached out to tap its plastic top.

“That one’s known for its ballads, if that’s something you’re into, but,” I practically sang before peering round him to see if I could find the one cassette case I was thinking of, “If you’re wanting a specific sound then A Thousand Leaves is probably worth giving a listen to. Personally I don’t think it got the recognition it deserved, but there was a lot of experimenting whilst also managing not to betray their roots, you know? It’s softer, smoother, and the guitars are almost unmatched.”

When I went to hand it over to him just to have a look at, I found him already watching me with this inscrutable sort of expression. I merely brushed it off, figuring that he’d just leave if he did eventually grow tired of my ranting, then turned slightly when a round of whispers echoed around the tent. It seemed a few younger girls had wandered straight on over to the independent artists section I had placed by the front and were arguing over who got this one Sam Fender album.

I looked away and went to say something else to him, but the way he'd simultaneously moved to angle his back away from the cassette tapes when he too spotted the new arrivals wasn't lost on me. I frowned a tad, though chose not to comment on it. “So, what sort of sound are you searching for anyway?”

His gaze skittered away from the tapes to meet mine for a second and I wondered, briefly, why he’d so suddenly lost the relaxed stance he’d been in just minutes before, but then he said, “Anything I haven’t heard much of before, in truth.”

Mulling his words over I then gestured towards the stand. “Can I?” I gestured, and immediately he knew where I was going with it, jumping back a step to let me riffle through the lot.

I pulled out a couple I figured he might be into, simply going off of the Sonic Youth album he’d been eyeing, then a few of my own favourites, not that I’d let that tidbit slip.

Handing them over, I let him search through their titles and answered one or two questions he had for me. I had to admit he intrigued me a bit, I’d had music enthusiasts stop by and talk about this and that with me, even had a couple people who played and were searching for new stuff to learn and adapt, but him? He didn’t give much away.

“Any good?” I questioned once I'd wandered back over to join him. I’d only left him to look through the selection again when a customer had called me over towards the front, and was just tucking away the few extra coins I’d been given when he glanced up at me with a bright grin. I was a little surprised to say it caught me off balance a bit.

“I’ll take the lot.”

Trying my hardest not to outright baulk, I paused. “The lot?”

Sure, cassettes weren’t all that pricey, not compared to pressed records at least, but there must’ve been just over a dozen that I’d pulled out to show him and now he supposedly wanted to take them all.

He laughed after a moment, most likely at the baffled look that marred my face, and made to pull his wallet out of his back pocket. “That gonna be a problem?”

The question was almost argumentative, pushy even, but in a jokey sort of way, the kind you’d use when ribbing a mate, not now. Not with some stranger at a market stall. It only left me marvelling further.

“Might be, I’ll have to find a bag big enough to fit them all though.” I countered, hiding my own smile when I heard him laugh again whilst I spun around to fetch exactly that.

“Anything will do, love.”

I dipped my chin in a slight nod but didn’t go right for the usual stack of black baggies I used for most sales, instead I swiped one of the few printed totes I had hung up for trade and tallied up the price. “You gonna be alright walking the rest of the market stretch with that?” I teased him, looking up once the transaction completed to hand him the now very full bag only to find him already looking back at me.

He hummed around a sly smile, fingers meeting mine around the totes handle before they were slipping away again. “Think I’ll make do. Only came looking for these anyway.”

My brows jumped up in surprise as I watched him tuck his wallet back into the pocket of his jeans. “Everyone loves Portobello.” I murmured and his light laughter echoed around the market stall once more before he simply shrugged.

“Been a couple times before, and besides, don't reckon I’ll get a better deal than this, do you?”

My eyes narrowed when I smiled, humoured by his easy going nature and quick quips. I found that I wanted him to stick around a while longer, if only to solve the mystery he made. “No, don't reckon so.”

He lingered for a moment or two more, simply smiling at me and I found myself smiling back, before a gaggle of school kids wandered on over, loud and uncaring of the looks they garnered. They caught my attention too and I found myself reminiscing over years where I’d been much of the same.

When I glanced back over to him, I saw that he was gone. My forehead pinched in confusion and I glanced around to see if I could spot him in the busy crowd, but it had grown all too quickly again and appeared easy enough for anyone to get swept up and lost in.

I rocked back on my heels as I gave up the search, just before I was called over by one of the kids asking for a specific LP. I let it go, him and the strange encounter we’d shared, and went about the rest of the day just going through the motions.

By the time seven o’clock rolled around I was shattered and had already packed most of the stall away. I waited patiently for Rob to help me with loading the larger bits into the van, watching Nance for him whilst he wrapped up what remained of the fruit and veg, knowing he’d take most of it back home to his family. It was at that moment that I caught sight of something amiss in the vinyl cubby I’d used to hide those slipcovers in just before we'd opened.

I walked over and was more than a little dumbfounded to spot a cassette lying there on its side. Standing On A Beach. One of The Cure albums I’d mentioned to that bloke in the cap earlier, the very same he’d gone and bought, and the exact one I was more than sure I’d bagged.

I picked it up, feeling Nancy brush up against my side whilst Rob called out to say that he was just dropping off his usual round of goodybags to the nearby sellers. I waved him off, then looked down at the tape I held, pausing when my thumb caught on something attached to the back.

Flipping it over I found a quickly scribbled note, its corner tucked into the case's opening so that it would hold its place.

(It sounded like you enjoyed this one when I asked about it. Know it’s a first edition too, so I figured maybe you should be the one keep it. - Matty.)

Matty.

“What you smiling at, weirdo?”

I startled at the sound of Rob’s usual drawl, head snapping over to my left to find him already trailing back towards us, a happy grin plastered over his face.

“Go on, tell us!” He ribbed, and now that he was drawing nearer I was quick to tuck the note into my back pocket.

“Nothing, just this tape. Figured I’d keep it.” I told him with a small shrug, clutching the cassette closer when he hip checked me in passing and bent down to give Nancy a good old stroke.

“Thieving your own gear! Wow, that’s a new low even for you.” Rob chuckled, shooting me a bright smile before he stood once more.

“Hush up, it’s a goodun. Forgot I even had it.” I defended, but he merely continued to laugh at me. Rolling my eyes, I shoved his arm lightly before I said, “Now be useful for once and grab the last of those boxes for us, will you.”

“Tetchy.”

I simply snorted, shaking my head as I moved to pick up my bag, clinging to the old cassette case for a second before finally dropping it inside.

“You coming then?”

With a deep breath I took one last glance around the stall and didn’t see anything that had been missed, so I wiped down my jeans and then gave Nance another pet, “Yeah, coming!”

…

My week continued on much the same after that. I worked in the local pub behind the bar when I wasn’t performing on the crate stage there and on my day off I took the tube over to see my mum and nan. They lived further East nowadays, closer to the clinic my nana hated but needed, and not too far from the street she’d grown up on as a girl.

Saturdays were my only market days, even though it was open most of the week. Rob usually did Fridays there and the rare Tuesday too, when he could be arsed. Though the rest of his time was used up by frequenting the old boxing club every other evening, training and helping out with the younger lot that liked to come in. I’d only been half a dozen times, but he was very much in his element there.

So in shorter terms, my week had slipped on by without much fanfare, which meant that Saturday had seemed to both crawl and shoot back around.

I opened the stall like usual, only without Rob for the first time in ages. He had apparently come down with some sort of bug or other that he’d gone and caught off of his nieces when he’d popped round to see them Wednesday afternoon- and well, he was a man, wasn't he? Which ultimately meant that he was dying.

He’d let me have Nancy though, seeing as she hadn’t been out very much since the cold had hit him. So the Alsatian had jumped in my van that same morning and had been as good as gold all day. To be honest, she was a much better seller than me and I could see why Rob always brought her along with him, people seemed to flock to dogs which in turn meant more sales for me.

I’d been fanning the crowds away ever since we’d opened, which typically only tended to happen during half term or school holidays, but nonetheless it was a more than welcome change after the crappy tips I’d garnered down at the pub the night before.

‘Cause well, since I’d dropped out of school I’d taken to performing there on the more livelier nights, a few covers, one or two of my own songs, and then I’d end the set and slide behind the bar to serve. Normally I was fine with that, the tips were often good when both the older folk and the younger lot rolled in, Friday nights especially. Only, there’d been a gig on down at the O2 so we hadn’t gotten our usual patrons in, and had instead been sacked with a couple of stragglers and a less than lively lot.

Still, today more than made up for it.

The sun was shining as much as it could do during a London March, the skies were blue although not completely clear, and the market crowd seemed to be in good spirits too.

Sy, who worked a couple stands down, had passed out a tray of coffees not too long ago, just after the lunchtime rush, and then Dianne and Reg had followed with some of their freshly baked pastries. They’d even thought to bring a little treat over for Nance too.

I'd just texted a picture to Rob to show him what he’d missed out on by having a case of man-flu and had just got up to toss the last of the rubbish away when I was caught off guard by an unexpected surprise.

“You!”

Matty, my mind supplied a half a second later. The same name that had been circling my thoughts since he’d left me that note the Saturday prior. I blinked at the sight of him. He was wearing a cap again, although this one was different, a dusky navy blue that he’d gone and tucked under a giant grey hoodie.

“Me.” He grinned in glinted amusement, jutting out his chin in a gentle hello. “Figured I might find you here.”

The snort I gave was unprecedented, “Oh, really? Wonder what gave that away.”

Matty smirked. Matty. It felt strange to put his name to his face then, even though it had been puttering around in my head like the bouncing DVD logo since the last time we’d met.

“Got any more tapes for me then?”

My eyes squinted in my attempt to dim my smile, not really believing that he was actually here, before I pursed my lips and tilted my head at him. “Might do. Take it you liked the last few?”

He hummed, smiling down at Nancy who’d trailed on over and allowing her to sniff at his hand. When she nudged his leg with her snout I watched on as he dropped into a crouch to give her a proper stroke. Nance seemed to be quite taken with him after that.

I propped a hip against the nearest vinyl cubby, crossing my arms over my chest whilst he replied, “They were good- helped a lot, in truth. You were right about the Roxy Music album, too.”

Chuffed with that, I shot him a pleased little grin.

“You’ll come to learn that it’s to be expected.”

“What, you bein’ right?” Matty wondered with a low laugh, petting Nancy’s head once more before he forced himself back up onto his feet.

“What I said, in’t it?”

He shook his head softly and I felt his eyes on me before I finally gestured him on over to the cassette stand. “I found a few new ones in the charity shop near my mum’s the other day, figured it’d be best to add to the collection after you nearly took the lot.”

“Wow, and she’s dramatic too.”

I swatted his arm thoughtlessly, then stilled the second I realised what I’d done, but Matty was either none the wiser to my momentary pause or just didn’t care. “That come with the job then? Having to be mouthy?”

My jaw dropped a tad at his sudden cheek and I tutted around the tiny beginnings of a stuttered laugh, “You’re brave. I’ll let you have that. But honestly, you’re probably not wrong there either.” We shared a chuckle, coming to a standstill by the tower full of tapes, “Most of this lot have to be gobby enough to have a shout at bagging any customers, especially when Rob’s around.”

“Rob?”

I titled my head over towards the next stall which sat empty, “Yeah, he works the fruit and veg. Might’ve seen, or rather heard him last weekend.”

Matty gave a slow nod, dragging his gaze away from where I’d pointed and back to the many cassettes I had to offer.

“So what're we looking for this time?” I smiled, thoughts on The Cure tape he’d gifted me, although wary to mention it too soon. “80’s Punk? Electro? Rhythm and Blues?” I dragged that last one out, enjoying the sight of his smile and how it only appeared to lift on one side before dimpling the corner ever so faintly.

“Give me one of your favourites.”

“Mine?” I blinked.

He hummed again, fingertips trailing over multiple rows of cases. I watched the movement, caught up in it in actuality, before I tore my eyes back over to him.

I caught him looking again, only this time around I didn’t much question it, not when the Saturday sun sitting high in the sky reflected so prettily in his eyes. Lightening them enough that they almost appeared to glow.

I followed through on the ask though, once I’d finally managed to get my head in working order and drag my gaze back towards the task at hand, pulling out an extensive range of cassettes, both singles and albums, for him to view.

Matty liked to talk, I quickly learned. He asked question after question, even when it seemed like he knew more than he was letting on at times, and he waited whenever someone else walked over, sitting amongst the back shelves with Nancy whilst I talked and sold a couple of vinyls.

Soon enough the sun had started to dip low in the sky and we realised that the hours had honestly escaped us. I was startled when I finally looked down at my phone to see that it was almost time to start packing away, having lost myself in the conversation we’d shared, or rather the debates we had both started over artists and genres, and what decade had done the most for music.

“Oh shit! I can’t believe it’s almost half six!”

Matty appeared to remember himself at my exclaim, pulling out his own phone to see for himself and blowing out a large breath when it rang true. “Fuck, ah, I didn’t even realise.”

He actually looked somewhat apologetic when he met my eye again.

I shook my head and waved him off, “You’re all good, actually one of the best market days I’ve had in truth, made almost double than what I did last weekend, even with the stash you claimed.”

With a soft laugh, Matty made to stand, holding out a hand to help me up too once he'd found his footing. I smiled softly at the offer and took it, perplexed by the careful callouses which lined the tops of his fingertips and the soft palm that accompanied them.

“You play?”

“Hm?”

My chin jerked over towards where an older acoustic hung on display in the stall across from mine, “Guitar. Do you play?”

His brows knitted together at the ask but he did eventually give me a low chuckle too, hand still holding my own. “Yeah, how’d you know?”

My eyes flickered up to find his and I gave a small smirk, unable to help myself. “Intuition.”

Matty scoffed in amusement, “Oh yeah? How’s that work?”

Shrugging a single shoulder, I stepped on closer to him, near enough that the brim of his hat shaded the top half of my face and the toes of our shoes almost aligned. “Just comes to me, I ‘spose.”

He quirked a questioning brow.

“What’s your intuition telling you now then?”

I bit down on the insides of my cheeks in hopes to contain my playful smile, figuring I’d best take the chance now while it was being handed to me. “That you’re gonna buy me a drink.”

“Am I?” Matty answered, voice dropping a fraction as a grin threatened to split his face.

Humming, I could only smile, eyes flickering between his own before they darted up towards the brim of his cap. With the hand not holding his, I reached up and settled it a little lower on his head, then glanced back down at that growing grin. “I mean, if you’re gonna keep coming back each Saturday then…”

His eyes narrowed a tad and finally he let go of the chuckle he’d been holding onto, leaning in even closer to me. “Intuition telling you that?”

“Hm, along with a couple other things.” I quipped, revelling in the hand that came to rest on the hem of my jeans. “So, that drink?”

Matty laughed, sweet and lovely. “Might know a place.”

“Good,” I murmured in the little space he’d placed between us, mouth almost touching his own before I was smirking and pulling away, “Guess you can help me pack up then.”

Matty huffed out a breathy chuckle whilst shook his head at me, watching as his hand slipped from mine. Though he wasn’t left lonely for too long, seeing as Nancy padded on over to him for another round of strokes whilst I set to picking up a horde of albums. “Tease.” He shot out, though he didn't look too disheartened.

I gave him a loud laugh in return, content with being labelled as such. “Well you’d best get to work then. Quicker we’re done here, quicker we can see about you and me sharing anything other than a drink.”

And he did, he set to work swift enough, the two of us slipping by one another with a gentle ease we shouldn’t have yet earned and sharing soft smiles in the lessening market bustle. All the while I continued to wonder and watch him, thinking back on the cassette he’d gifted me and the sudden fondness I’d found for him.

“Ready to go?” He asked me not long later and I found myself never wanting to say no to that pretty smile of his. So I just nodded and took the hand he held out, Nance moving to join us too before we finally ventured our way out of the market street. Matty asking me every question he’d been holding back the further we got, and making realise that I had a horde of my own.

#the 1975 #matty healy #x reader #fluff #flirting #humour #fic #writing #plot #matty #the 1975 band #y/n #matty healy fic #matty the 1975 #reader #oneshot #imagines #heyidkyay

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estrellami-1 · 6 months

Text

Keep You Company

So this happened because 1) I was babysitting and the little girl wouldn’t sleep until I laid in bed with her and my heart has NEVER been more full and 2) my dad’s an audio engineer with a home studio and my mom will just???? Sit in there with him????? He’s got a couch for when clients come over but 90% of the time if I can’t find either of my parents they’re both in there. I love my mom but I swear she’s tone deaf. Not to mention if any of you have heard someone else work on pitch correction you KNOW how annoying it can get after roughly .3 seconds. But she sits in there completely content because they just???? Want to be near each other????? After close to 30 years of marriage????? Where can I find someone who loves me the way my parents love each other. And the way Steve and Eddie love each other. Please.

Also side note if any of yall read Little Love I’m tempted to make this a future excerpt 👀 different name bc who knows if anything’s gonna come of this. and Joanie’s name comes from Joan Jett anyone who got that gets a gold star ⭐️ also Joanie is either 4 or 6. Idk which. But she’s one of those ages. Which if you know anything about kids you know there’s somehow no difference and yet every difference in the world between those two ages.

“Night, Daddy,” Joanie says, moving into Eddie’s studio to drop a kiss onto his cheek. “Love you.”

Eddie startles away from the computer screen, blinking as he realizes just how late it already is. The clock on his desk blinks 9:08 in red, incriminating flashes.

He smiles at his daughter and throws his arms around her as he stands, hugging her to himself and whirling them around the space, careful around the low coffee table. “Goodnight, my little rockstar!” He crows, peppering kisses to her cheeks and forehead, feeling laughter bubble up inside him in response to Joanie’s giggles.

“Daddy!” She shrieks, but doesn’t try to pull away. He laughs and finally puts her down, pressing one last kiss to the crown of her head as he kneels in front of her.

“Night, Joanie-bug,” he murmurs. “Sorry I’ve been stuck in here all day. I wish I could just play with you all day instead.”

He boops her nose and she giggles. “What are you doing?”

Eddie hums and picks her up, moving closer to the computer to save his project. “Well, y’know how Daddy’s in a band?”

“Yuh-huh.”

“Well sometimes, Uncle Gareth gets a note wrong.”

Joanie giggles. “Only Uncle Gareth?”

“Only Uncle Gareth,” Eddie agrees in a super-serious way that they both know he doesn’t mean.

“And sometimes Daddy forgets how not to be a perfectionist,” Steve adds from the doorway with a smile.

“Also very true,” Eddie nods, putting his computer to sleep. “But I did a lot of work today, so hopefully I should be done soon. How about for now, I do bedtime clean-up routine, and Papa can read you your book?”

“M’kay,” Joanie says happily, because she’s a heathen and prefers Steve’s storytelling skills over Eddie’s. Eddie wants to bite her cheeks, she’s so cute, so he does, takes a big chomp and makes a dinosaur noise that has Joanie shrieking and laughing.

“Okay, munchkin,” he says, swinging her around onto his back and trotting through the house, purposely jostling her. “Beddy-bye time, which means it’s time for teeth brushing!”

“Can you sing the song?”

Eddie fights back a groan. Somehow, he’d forgotten this was coming. “Sure thing, Joanie. Let’s get some toothpaste on that brush, alright?”

They do, and Joanie looks at him expectantly. “Sing it, Daddy! Sing it!”

“Brush your teeth, up and down. Brush your teeth, ‘round and ‘round. Brush your teeth from left to right, brush your teeth in the morning and night.”

He goes through the entire song, helpless to the smile that grows as Joanie bops happily along to his singing. “Okay, baby bug,” he says finally, standing behind her with a brush. “How d’you want your hair tonight?”

Regardless of the rat’s nest it will be in the morning, Joanie refuses to sleep if her hair is at all in her face. Steve and Eddie started with simple braids until she discovered the magic of YouTube tutorials, which makes the bedtime routine both longer and less mundane.

“Two Elsa braids,” she says, resolutely not learning the proper name and instead using the one Eddie had jokingly said once.

“Two Elsa braids, coming up,” he says, because it’s cute and he’s not going to dissuade her.

“Can we do beads?”

“Beads are a daytime hairstyle, ‘member, munchkin?”

Joanie pouts at him in the mirror. “But they’re pretty!”

“They are pretty, but they won’t stay while you sleep. They’ll fall out, and then you’ll wake up in the middle of the night ‘cause you’re laying on beads, and you’ll wake us up, and then we’ll all be cranky.” Not that that exact thing had happened.

She narrows her eyes at him, trying to find a way around it, then finally huffs and agrees. “Okay.”

“You’ll look pretty even without the beads,” Eddie promises her. “And Elsa doesn’t have beads, remember?”

“Yeah, but Daddy, Elsa’s got magic powers!”

“That she does.”

Joanie pretends to shoot Eddie with her Elsa powers, and Eddie freezes in the middle of the first braid. “I can’t move,” he says, not moving his lips. “You froze me!”

Joanie giggles. “Unfreeze, Daddy!”

He dramatically relaxes and sighs. “Oh, good! Thank you!”

He finishes doing her hair and chases her into her room, where she picks out her pajamas: a pink shirt with ballet-dancing kittens, and a neon-green pair of leggings. “Bold choice,” Eddie comments. “You wanna do it yourself? Or do you want me to help you?”

“I wanna do it,” Joanie says, just like Eddie knew she would.

A few minutes later, she huffs, frustrated. “Daddy, help,” she asks, just like Eddie knew she would.

He helps rescue her from her shirt that had somehow become sentient long enough to wrap around her head, then gets her pants on and tucks her into bed before pressing a long, loud kiss to her forehead. “Nighty-night, Joanie-bug,” he murmurs. “Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

Joanie giggles. “Only Joanie-bugs allowed in my bed!” She declares, and Eddie chuckles. “That’s right.”

He moves toward the door where Steve’s waiting to press a kiss to his husband’s forehead. “Sorry I was so busy.”

“You were working,” Steve murmurs. “It’s fine. I’ll come join you when I’m done, m’kay?”

“I’m gonna be in the studio for at least another hour tonight, babe,” Eddie says apologetically.

“Then I guess I’ll come keep you company.” He presses a quick kiss to Eddie’s lips before shoving him out the door. “Go work, I’ll be there in a bit.”

“Sir yes sir,” Eddie salutes, marching back to his studio.

The next time he surfaces, it’s to a tugging at his sleeve. He blinks, glances at the clock—10:37—and turns, ready to apologize to Steve, only to see Joanie.

A quick look reveals no Steve anywhere in the studio, so Eddie thinks he’s probably in bed. “Hey, munchkin,” he murmurs, picking her up and setting her in his lap. “We put you to bed an hour ago, what’s going on? Bad dream?”

Joanie shakes her head before resting it on Eddie’s shoulder. “Papa’s snoring.”

Eddie blinks. Steve does snore, but not loud enough she should be able to hear it from her room. “Oh,” he says quietly. “Did he fall asleep before finishing the story?”

Joanie nods against his shoulder, and he sighs as he cuddles her closer, once again saving his project before completely shutting the computer down for the night. “M’kay, Joanie-bug, let’s go get Papa into his own bed.”

“Daddy?” She asks on the way to her room.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Why’s Papa so tired?”

Eddie sighs. “He’s a teacher, sweet pea. He does a lot all day. And he loves his job, but it is very tiring. Then he comes home and cooks, ‘cause he’s better at it than I am. And there’s a lot of stuff that needs to be done around the house.”

Joanie’s quiet for a second. “And me?” She finally asks.

Eddie’s heart stutters painfully. “No, baby,” he murmurs. “Your Papa and I love you, so much, okay?”

“Okay,” Joanie agrees, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I love you too, Daddy.” After a few seconds of thought, she says, “Are there cooking videos on YouTube? Like for hair?”

Eddie blinks. “To learn how to do it? Yeah, I think so.”

Joanie nods. “You should watch those. And cook for Papa.”

Eddie chuckles. “Maybe I will,” he agrees, stopping short in the doorway to smile at the sight in front of him.

The bedside lamp is on and Steve, glasses askew, is halfway on the bed, on top of the covers. The book is open in his lap, hands still holding on to the sides. He is, as Joanie had said, snoring.

Eddie kisses Joanie’s forehead and puts her into bed beside Steve before taking the book from Steve’s lax hands, shutting it and putting it on her bedside table before kissing Steve’s forehead. “Stevie, baby,” he murmurs. “Wake up.”

Steve’s eyebrows scrunch and his eyes flutter beneath his closed lids before he takes an extra-deep breath and his eyes open. “Eds?” He murmurs. “What’s wrong?”

“You’ve gotta get up,” Eddie murmurs. “This isn’t your bed.”

He watches as Steve processes his words then looks around. He sees the confusion morph into understanding when he sees Joan. “Oh,” Steve murmurs. “Sorry, Joanie.”

“‘S okay, Papa,” Joanie answers. “You should go to bed.”

Steve chuckles tiredly and kisses her forehead. “I am, right now,” he promises. “Night, Joanie.”

“Night, Papa. Night, Daddy!”

“Night, Joanie-bug,” Eddie answers, wrapping his arm around Steve’s waist, half as a hug and half to help his husband stay steady.

“Sorry, Eds,” Steve murmurs. “Meant to join you.”

“It’s alright,” Eddie promises. “How about tomorrow I take Joanie out early for breakfast and let you sleep in?”

Steve frowns. “But you have work.”

“I’ve done the majority of it already,” Eddie answers. “You could take her out tomorrow afternoon if you want. Or just have a movie marathon here. I’ll finish up what I have to do. Tomorrow’s Saturday, right? So I’ll finish tomorrow, then Sunday I can make waffles for all of us. How’s that sound?”

Steve hums. “Good, ‘sides the you cooking part of it.”

“Oh, you little shit,” Eddie says delightedly, pressing a kiss to Steve’s temple. “Just you wait, you’ll understand the power of YouTube tutorials.”

Steve chuckles, quiet, tired, but no less full of love. “I can’t wait.”

Permanent Taglist (which I’ve been COMPLETELY terrible at I’m so sorry I promise I’ll try to do better): @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @muricel @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #kid fic #is this what constitutes a kid fic?#or is that when the characters turn into kids #asking the important questions here #it’s 3:20am #I wrote this in like. two hours #send help #just an excuse to write fluff honestly #starambles

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the-darklings · 2 years

Text

──𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐢 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐞 [𝐈𝐈.]

summary: “When the end comes, turn me into stardust, Dream Lord.”

pairing: dream of the endless x f!reader

wc: 2.1k

warnings: Dream is still Dream ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

notes: thank you so much to everyone for your warm feedback on part 1 & enjoy!!!

part one | series masterlist | ao3 |

PART TWO: YEAR 200-300

“That’s eerie, Dream.”

“When finished, they will be a nightmare.”

He does that often. Speak as if certain things should be obvious. You’ve learned by now he’s not being patronising. Dream is simply ancient. These things are apparent to him. Sometimes it makes you wonder if he, himself, forgets you’re a human who—even with such long existence—still understands scarce little about this universe.

“Yeah, but teeth for eyes?” you pose, circling. Blackened beach sand crunches beneath your soles. The only sound in the otherwise remote landscape. “Pretty sure that would make anyone cry and run. Do the teeth chatter? Will they? You see them coming because the quiet chatter gives them away. Chomp, chomp.”

A laugh tickles from your chest, saturating the air. Dream peers in your direction from the corner of his eye, permitting the moment of blitheness. Perhaps he noticed the exhausted creases around your eyes or the listless way you followed after him when he informed you he planned to spend the afternoon crafting new dreams and nightmares. A long, painful journey to return here now lies behind you.

“Nightmares are mirrors,” Dream rumbles, his head slanting as he examines the barebone frame of the soon-to-be nightmare. “They are as necessary as dreams. They challenge and reveal. They’re lessons in bravery and vulnerability.”

You settle beside him, eyeing the teeth and the subtle horror woven into being right before you. “So you prefer creating nightmares over dreams?”

Does that then indicate he prefers being the King of Nightmare Realms to being the Dream King?

“I have no preference.” No hitch in pitch, but after two hundred and forty years, you know better than to hope you can unravel a tell so effortlessly. Instead, you seek his face, that piercing stare, crafting even while he speaks. Raw creation, supercharging the air with energy you’re still too young, too novice in your existence, to fully comprehend—he’s endless, pouring from himself into the universe, and you’re a lone atom held in his gravity. “The Dreaming, the waking world, dreams and nightmares. Everything is a scale. I merely balance it.”

You ghost your palm over the nightmare’s shell, your head lowering. An odd, pained smile twists your mouth, tilting downward soon after.

“We must be nothing to you,” you whisper in pained realisation, avoiding looking his way. “We’re so tiny that you don’t even see us. We die in a blink for you, and ten more take our place in a breath.”

How could anyone hold his attention? It’s no wonder Dream is so closed-off, so wrapped up in his duty and rules, in his seclusion.

His hand appears in your peripheral, grazing over the empty shell, matter sewing itself together where his pale fingers travel. Dream Lord doesn’t look your way, nor you his when he speaks:

“On the contrary, Wanderer, I see you perfectly well.”

Your feet shuffle. Dream slants his body in your direction, no more than lackadaisical observation, and you scowl at him.

"I'm not nervous." You've repeated the affirmation several times now but to no avail. Dream Lord appears no less convinced by your words despite how adamant you've been. Heaving the deepest sigh you can muster up, you let your shoulders droop. "Okay, fine. I'm nervous. I know you said as long as you're here, your guests can't be harmed, but I'm about to see two gods meet."

This time, Dream turns his entirely in your direction. Around you, Dream’s subjects bustle in preparation. It’s not every day another Endless visits the Dreaming. It’s all exceedingly formal and showy, more human than you might have expected, and it worries you because you’re not a subject under Dream’s protection. You’re a stray, a bad omen, and it’s discomforting to be in the presence of beings that make you feel abhorrent in your own skin.

"I am not God. I'm the Endless." Dream's dark hair hangs over his forehead, almost covering his eyes, his words pitched low; each one reverberates against your spine with a thrum. "We are older than your gods. We were birthed with this universe, and we'll be the last beings when the universe goes silent. You perceive me as a man of flesh and blood, but it is not so rudimentary, Wanderer. My siblings and I exist outside the bounds of your human comprehension."

You ruminate over his words, picking each one apart in your mind. A realisation settles in your chest, one that leaves you frowning and sad. “So one day you’ll be the last?”

“Death will be the last,” Dream replies. You get a distinct impression that he’s not concerned about such a thing or that he, too, may cease to exist one day. “When we are gone, she will kiss this universe to sleep.”

She will kiss this universe to sleep. You've run into Death occasionally, but you silently agree. She's kind enough to love a dead universe as much as one overflowing with life.

“Can I ask for a favour if I’m still around?” Your own voice has lowered as well. Pale purple light from the glass-stained windows inside the throne room washes over Dream Lord’s sharp features when he glances your way. Silent and patient. “When the end comes, turn me into stardust, Dream Lord.”

Dream is unmoving beside you. “Stardust?” he echoes softly.

“Yeah,” you say with a crooked grin. “That way, I’ll be free for all eternity.”

“You think me callous.”

Direct much?

Stride rigid and jaw tense, you mutter a quiet, “No, I didn’t say that.”

Dream keeps pace easily, seemingly half morphing into the ground, gliding along as his black coat flutters behind him. “You do not need to.”

Can a cursed human be cursed again? Surely giving him a rude gesture would result in something similar.

The castle entrance looms ahead, and you step outside, fresh wildflowers and cotton candy air expanding your lungs. Gates of Horn and Ivory loom on the distant horizon, dreams and nightmares weaving around the portals to the mortal lands. Gatekeepers loom above the castle, watchfully guarding the heart of the Dreaming. For once, the magnificence of Dream's kingdom does little to quell your ire.

You halt, pivoting sharply on your heels to face him. Several dreams scuttle from sight when they spot you and Dream together. It’s sad that they skitter away, fearful of overstepping a line Dream never permits them to tread.

“I just think…” You chew on your tongue, fading off. Inhaling deeply, you hold it in your lungs, shaking your head. “It doesn’t matter.”

He appears more caught off guard by your reluctant mutter, by your backing down, where you would usually shout your thoughts, than anything else.

“You refuse to speak your mind?” he wonders.

He really doesn’t see it. This realm craves his love, attention, and approval, yet he’s so cold to them. It’s not from disinterest or insensitivity, but there’s such a yawning distance between him and the creatures inhabiting the Dreaming. It’s painful as it is frustrating. It’s not your business. You learned with swift brutality what happens when you try to meddle and force your misplaced wisdom onto others. Nothing good. Your bruised body and soul are a testament to that.

Losing this, losing the Dreaming, would break you. It’s the only place you’ve ever felt safe in. The only place where your scars throb less and doubts flee your mind—a place where you can rest and not fear for yourself.

“This is your domain,” you acknowledge. “You let me drop by, and I love the Dreaming. It’s… it’s very dear to me. Lucienne, Merv, Abel and Cain, and yes, even you. I don’t want to lose that because I said something you don’t like to hear.”

It’s stupid. You’re so stupid. Your words taste juvenile and fatuous. Why would an Endless care for what you think? What are you but bones to him? Another soul worn down by the weight on your shoulders.

Dream takes a single stride closer, and the infinity flows with him. Perpetually grave, potent with his calm presence—he’s suffocating, he’s so stupid, he’s magnificent. “I invite honesty.”

You’re not sure whether to cry or laugh. “Do you?”

Something more honed shapes Dream’s face, neutralising his previous focus and reshaping it into something venerable and all-powerful despite his outward neutrality. You nape tingles. “Your meaning?”

“Oh, as if you don’t know,” you scoff under your breath, marching away from him, your shoulders bunching up again. “Corinthian may be dangerous, but wanting freedom is not a crime. If you just talked with him openly—”

Dream’s voice is a powerful rasp behind you. “That is not his function.”

No change in his intonation, but the ground beneath your feet seems to tremble. Your knees lock momentarily. You refuse to let him see the falter, forcing yourself to keep moving, away, better that than a fight—

Maybe you're foolhardy, or possibly because you were there when Dream created Corinthian, but you can't stand down. You're still awfully and unashamedly human despite Dream's numerous hints that it's ebbing from you, that beating human heart.

You’re halfway across the stone bridge leading to and fro the castle when you draw to another stop.

“You’re right. It isn’t.” Your words come out subdued, each word slipping with an imploring edge. “But it doesn’t mean he, or anyone else, is wrong for wanting to be free.”

Turning, you risk a step closer, then another, continuing gently, “You told me decades ago that you see me. But do you really, Dream? You love them, but you don’t see them. Not really. You created them. To them, you’re everything, but you don’t try to understand their wishes or fears. Because understanding them means letting them close.”

The ruby around his neck glows faintly. You’re not sure what it means, if anything. “You speak of… empathy.”

You exhale. “Yes.”

A flicker sparks and flees from his gaze, leaving that stony composure behind. He leans slightly closer as if he’s about to share a great secret with you.

“I’m neither man nor God, Wanderer.” Silky, composed reminder. “I’m not here to be cruel nor kind. I simply am. And you will do well to remember the difference.”

His coat rustles, phantom feathers fissling through the air, and then he’s gone.

Your head lifts towards the sky. Sunny, blue expanse moments prior has been replaced by heavy, low-hanging clouds. Bruised purple, swollen, and above else, you infer distantly, lonely.

He began with the first dream.

For Morpheus, the universe was once a cold, desolate, ravenous void bar his family. Then came dreams. His duty, a shining purpose, and with it, sense. Belonging. An endless stream of human consciousness resting curled in his hands. Warm and purring, a living feline, coiling and expanding, and to contain it, to nurture it, he built a kingdom. The waking world has grown with age. Mortals have come far since the First People, gaining speed with their innovation, compelled forth by their sheer, unbridled imagination.

Stumbling and young, concerned with their short lives.

Well, not all of them.

He’s on his throne, Lucienne reading updates from the dossier, her voice smooth and firm, when he senses it. A ripple in the Dreaming. The fabric—sand, rocks, trees, air, and water—forming his realm, loosening to make an entrance. What once felt so wrong three hundred years ago is now familiar and anticipated.

Wanderer.

You had not visited in five years after your last dissent. With time you will view the cosmos in similar light he does. He is certain. This return is but proof. The curse will drag you through the ages, and fragments already lost after three hundred years will only increase in volume. Order is what keeps the universe turning and its inhabitants breathing. Everything in this vast cosmos has a purpose, especially for him and his own.

There’s a crackling zap in the air. Morpheus gets a lungful of the sheer power output that is you dragging from one place in the boundless universe to another, then stillness.

Coruscate light from glass-stained windows behind his throne illuminates your frame, several paces away from where Lucienne stands.

His librarian’s quiet gasp alerts Morpheus that something is terribly wrong.

He stretches to his full height. Your grin is lopsided; warm, lips wobbling, stained with black liquid, not blood.

“Hey, Dream.”

Duller, unfailingly affectionate but disturbingly scratchy with pain.

The Dreaming contorts around him viciously, and he’s at the bottom of the dais in a single step. Just as you tip forward, collapsing right into him.

an: hope you enjoyed part 2, let me know any thoughts you may have!!!

#the sandman #dream x reader #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless #fic: today i bury you in me

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captain039 · 7 months

Text

PART 2 Big bear

Halsin x reader

Warnings: AOB, age gap,eventual smut, first times, feelings, tav insert, Angst

I changed this up so fast

Also I fucking lost Halsin because my dumb ass didn’t clear the shadow curse and I genuinely wanna cry

I still got my baby boy, but ugh😭

Previous part <-

Sleep didn’t come to you though, you were tossing and turning, trying to be quiet for your companions, but gave up. You sighed an ache in your body, a familiar ache. You grabbed your pack and headed to the river and sat down by the bank. Your mind was a little hazy as you grabbed a small vile and drank it quickly. You made a disgusted face and coughed, your hand going over your mouth instantly and glancing back to your companions who slept. You sighed putting the empty file back, you had four left. You’d need to get more for the long journey ahead. Your mind cleared and the ache left, a small potion brewed by an old woman you found willing to get rid of your curse of a rank. You smelt like nothing, nobody knew what you were and didn’t bother you, just how you wanted it. You shuddered a bit rubbing your hands over your arms, you should’ve brought a blanket. You sighed hugging your knees instead as you stared at the lake.

“You’ll catch a cold out here” you jumped almost screaming at the sound of the alphas voice behind you. Halsin chuckled lightly laying a blanket around your shoulders and sitting by you. You thanked him quietly tugging the blanket closer.

“What keeps you awake this night?” He asked and you shrugged putting your pack at your side, away from his view.

“Can’t sleep” you said.

“More aches and pain?” He asked worried and your heart clenched.

“No, I’m alright” you said giving him a small smile and he nodded.

“It’s not my business, but when I healed you the other day-“ he stalked and you froze dreading his next words.

“It is not my business, apologies” he said and you relaxed a little.

“What’s going on over here?” You glanced to Astarion who came to sit on your other side.

“Our friend can’t sleep” Halsin said as Astarion looked to you.

“Really? I can think of ways to get you to sleep” he grinned, fangs on display and you slapped his arm.

“I will rip your fangs out” you fought and he blinked in surprise at your threat before chuckling.

“Cheeky pup, I’d bite your fingers off before that happened” he gave you a playful chomp of his teeth and you smiled.

“What about you bear?” Astarion peered to Halsin.

“I would assume you’d need your beauty sleep big time, do you hibernate?” Astarion quizzed and you snorted quietly shaking your head and Halsin just smiled.

“No, Astarion I don’t” the alpha chuckled.

“Hm, pity, I could’ve used a distraction to get a taste of you” you flushed at his words the vampire had no shame.

“You’re embarrassing the little one” Halsin scolded softly with a smile and Astarion smirked at you like he knew something.

“I’m sure she’s heard it all” Astarion said giving suggestions for you to talk.

“No” you said huffing and he pouted.

“Honestly, if I didn’t know better I’d say you’re a virgin” Astarion moved his gaze to the river and your whole body tensed. Your mind flashed between images and you quickly stood to find the safety of your tent.

Halsin frowned as you got up and left quickly after Astarions comment. He growled at the pale elf who shrugged and left. Halsin huffed and looked to the pack you left seeing an empty vile peeking out. He frowned curiosity getting him as he grabbed it and took a small sniff of the contents. His nose scrunched up and his frown hardened. They were suppressors, horrible medical things to stop ones true nature, it had its affects, aches and pains, nausea, haziness of missing a dose, they were an addiction. what had happened to you? He picked up the pack and left it outside your tent before heading back to his.

You avoided Halsin and Astarion for a while. You were just trying to feel normal again. Your body had taken a toll on something, whether it was the fighting or mental capacity some things took, your body felt it. Gods you felt heavier, weaker, your muscles ached, but you forced through it. At the end of a hard fight though you ended up straggling back, you had puked and groaned as you sat down against a cold wall away from blood. You’d popped an extra suppressor a few days ago thinking it was your omeganess weighing you down. You sensed someone coming though and quickly stood seeming like you were looking for supplies. Halsin appeared a worried look in his eyes before he saw you.

“Are you alight?” He called and you nodded smiling falsely. You picked up some gold from the goblins on the ground as he stopped by you.

Halsin sensed your pain, whatever type it was, you were slower, reactions not on point, you’d take hit after hit, even with Shadowhearts quick healing you looked weighed down. His beast stirred at the thought as did his other nature, he could smell blood and sick? Had you been sick. His nose scrunched lightly as you continued gathering what you could from this small goblin outpost. Your body was tense, you took time to kneel and get up, your brows going together slightly as you went. You looked paler too, were you still hurt?

Halsin just stood there, a light scrunch in his nose, maybe it was all the blood. You tried to ignore the way he just stood there like he was trying to process something a little harshly.

“Hey?” You walked up to him and waved a hand in front of his face. He frowned at your hand before looking to you.

“Come on” you cocked your head going to follow the others, ignoring how your legs felt like dead weight. The group had set up camp nearby, all ready to lie down for the day. Gale had overtaken the cooking again, he disliked anyone melding with his cooking. Nobody took it from him though, he was an excellent cook. You however wanted a warm bath and wine, gods you felt worse than this morning. You left camp for some privacy saying you needed the bathroom. You took your small pack with you and sat down against a big tree. You closed your eyes resting your head back against the bark. You held the pack on your lap debating if you should truely take another suppressant. You grabbed one and fiddled with it between your fingers, surely it’d take the edge off?

“Don’t!” You jumped at the sound of a voice and saw Halsin coming towards you. You quickly hid the vile, but it was too late he’d already seen it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell, but those viles are making you worse” he said worry in his voice.

“Worse? I feel worse off them!” You snapped without reason seeing the hurt across his features as he sat down in front of you, legs crossed.

“You don’t know me or my story, so don’t assume you know what makes me feel worse” why were you feeling so hostile? to this man, this alpha whose kind eyes and soft words never failed anyone. You went to take it out of spite, but he stopped you.

“Please, just listen” he begged and your heart clenched, you were cruel to him. You faltered, tears in your eyes as you shoved it back in your pack and got up to leave, the big alpha calling your name.

“Listen to me for one moment” he grabbed your wrist and you snatched it away from him wiping tears down your face.

“Just go away!” You huffed wiping your eyes going to run again.

“Omega!” He said and your whole body tensed, an unnatural feeling of disgust filling your body. He froze, eyes wide as you began to shake. You went back to camp quickly and quietly, you began to pack your things mind blank and body tense.

“Y/n?” You heard Tav asked as you flinched from them. Your mind switched back on and you stared confused hands shaking.

“Sorry-“ they said frowning before kneeling down.

“Are you alright?” They asked and you nodded nervously.

“What happened? You’re shaking?” Their eyes went to your hands.

“It was my fault” you looked to the bear a little ways away.

“I pressed a button I shouldn’t have” his voice was guilty and pained.

“I must leave, she will stay, I will head my own way” he nodded and your heart dropped.

“Halsin?” Tav asked standing up, but the Druid had already left.

“Karlach?” Tav called the teifling perking up before seeing the situation.

“I got ya” Karlach said coming over and sitting down with you.

“What’s happening?” She asked eyes worried as you watched Tav walk away.

“I don’t-“ you mumbled brain in a mess.

“Hey it’s alright, we’ll just sit here and take a breath yeah?” She smiled warmly and all you could do was nod.

Next part ->

#Halsin x reader #x reader #aob #bg3 #Karlach #tav insert

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 1 year

Text

Impeachment Part 1

Rick Grimes x plus size reader x Daryl Dixon

Alpha!Rick Grimes x omega!reader x Alpha!Daryl Dixon

Everything was gone and destroyed but she was still theirs

Warnings: this one’s angsty, death, presumed death of reader and unborn baby, walkers, past violence, pregnancy

WC: 3.3k

Minors DNI

The Trial

Michonne had gotten Carl to smile again and for that, Rick would be eternally grateful. It had been hard seeing the boy so heartbroken, he had already been through so much, lost so many people that the beautiful smile that looked so much like Rick’s only appeared on the rarest of occasions.

Daryl walked silently beside him, the joy radiating from the boy barely breaking through the huge wall of ice he had built between himself and everyone else and Rick knew why, it was the same reason he constantly had a pit in his stomach, an overwhelming sadness invading his soul. They hadn’t found her.

The change in her scent became prominent about one month after her heat had finished. It became more milky and flowery instead of the usual vanilla and with a quick exam done by Hershel, it was confirmed. She had been pupped. Daryl had hugged her tight and hadn’t let go for a solid four hours after she told him. Both alphas had stepped up and agreed to be the father of the baby, no matter who had sired them, though each had a secret hope that it was their own pup in her belly.

That night, Rick asked her to mark him. It was rare for an omega to claim their alpha but not entirely unheard of. “We are equal omega. We’re partners and I want to prove that.” The alphas let her take the lead. For the first time, they allowed her to ride them, to control the pace as she sank her teeth into their mating glands. It was perfect.

Everyone doted on her constantly, the anxiety from Lori’s unfortunate pregnancy rearing its ugly head once more. But with almost daily checkups and the best prenatal Daryl could scavenge, people settled down and the excitement of another pup became palpable. Y/N often had to escape back to her nest to get away from people who wouldn’t leave her alone. Carl or Judith went with her if her alphas were busy, the former being greatly excited at the prospect of being a big brother again, even if he didn’t outwardly show it.

Things were amazing until the sickness came. In a single night, an entire cell-block was dead and even more infected. She and Judith were immediately rushed into isolation, Carl begrudgingly staying by their side, even if he was chomping at the bit to help his father. Then, just as hope rekindled with Daryl finding the life-saving medicine, the Governor returned.

Through the madness of the firefight and waves upon waves of the undead, the pack was separated and presumed the others dead. Rick and Carl had found Michonne, then Daryl, then Terminus happened.

Terminus burned behind them as they walked through the woods, the sounds of the explosions still ringing in their ears. “It’s right here.” Daryl pointed out the place where they had hidden their guns before being captured, and quickly dug them up.

Rick wanted to go back, exterminate the rest of them, but looking at his pack, his resolve wavered. They all looked so tired, covered in walker guts and sweat, and they were completely unarmed and unprepared if that hoard decided to make its way back towards them. Part of him knew he was just angry he had let someone take advantage of him and they all nearly died as a result. He knew that he just wanted to go back and see if you had been there, if she was one of the unfortunate souls being lured into the trap of perceived safety.

Daryl could sense his distress, and knew they were both feeling the same thing. “We gotta stick together.” His shoulders slumped and he ran a hand over his face. “Fine, we just need to find shelter for the night, then we move on.” The creaking of branches behind them had Daryl whipping his head around, only to be met with the sight of the matriarchal omega awkwardly standing between the trees, his crossbow in her hand.

He ran at Carol, embracing the older omega as Rick walked up cautiously behind him. “Did you do that?” His southern twang is more prominent with the emotion of finding another pack member. She tearfully nodded and embraced the other alpha, he quietly spoke into her neck. “Thank you.” As they separated, she looked up at him, a small spark of joy lighting in her gray eyes. “You have to come with me.”

As the pack came over the hill, they were met with the sight of Tyresse walking out of a dilapidated cabin, baby Judith tucked safely in his arms. Rick immediately dropped his weapon, almost stumbling in his hurry to get to his daughter, Carl and Sasha following closely. The alpha pulled the pup from the beta’s grasp, almost collapsing to the ground with sheer relief.

He held both of his children close, vowing never to let them from his sight ever again. The pack watched on, small smiles coming over their faces at the reunion. However, a sour taste built up in the back of Daryl’s mouth. His omega would’ve never left Judith alone, she was her baby just as much as the one in her belly. “Where’s my omega?” He growled.

Carol’s smile dropped as her trembling fingers reached into her pocket. “I’m sorry, this was all I could find. It was outside the prison.” In the palm of her hand was the small friendship bracelet he had given to the younger woman when they were courting. The blue threads, picked out specifically because they matched his eyes, were dirty and covered in brown blood. The little sunflower charm which Rick had given her to put on it, was scratched up and also stained red.

Daryl felt his heart shatter in his chest. He fell to his knees, the bracelet clutched tightly to him as he howled in pain. She was gone, his omega dead, his pup dead. Rick’s head shot up, eyes widening as he felt the heartache through their bond. His brother was near hysterics, crumpled on the ground, the trail of tears creating clean tracks down his face.

It was jarring to see the normally stoic hunter display so much raw emotion. Carol tried to wrap an arm around his shoulders but he shook her off, snarling, his inner alpha telling him that she was going to take the last thing remaining of his omega. Everyone backed away from him while Carol lowered her head in submission, not wanting to upset him further.

A little chirp broke him from his grief. Rick knelt in front of him, hand on his shoulder as Judith reached out and touched Daryl’s face. Her big eyes seemed to stare into his soul as her chubby hand, still miraculously covered in baby fat, stroked his cheek. Rick tilted her forward so she could crawl into the archer’s strong arms, resting her head on his collarbone. The scent of milk and flowers comforted him, it was the same smell she had.

He could vividly remember being curled up with her in her nest, the late afternoon sunlight making everything warm and calm, her scent permeating his senses, making him forget the horrors of the world for just a moment. He held Judith tight to his chest, her breathing settling him. “She’s-“ His voice was broken, weak.

Rick sighed. “I know but we need to keep going. When we find somewhere safe, then we grieve but we have to keep going. It’s what she would’ve wanted.” He was just as heartbroken as his brother but as the head of the pack, he wasn’t allowed to be weak, not anymore. The shock of Y/N’s death would hit him in full later, but for now, he shoved those feelings down as far as he could, taking the other man in his arms for a brief moment. “We’ll be ok.”

——————

Daryl fiddled with her bracelet which he had tied around his own wrist. The building horde of walkers that had been behind them was setting him on edge. He knew that all of them were too tired, too dehydrated to deal with them, so they just kept walking, hoping for some sort of reprieve.

They had been on the road for weeks, slowly making their way to D.C. The losses of Tyresse and Beth weighed heavily on all of them. Sasha seemed to be teetering on the edge, with Bob and Tyresse gone, it seemed there wasn’t much for her anymore. Daryl knew without Rick and the pups, he would be in the same position. He probably would snap soon, his alpha was constantly tearing at the barrier he built in his mind. He was grieving and in pain but Rick was right, that didn’t matter at the moment.

Michonne had been trying to keep the kids distracted through all of it. Her bond with Carl let Judith warm up to her as well, and through some bad jokes and silly faces, she got them to smile. Those smiles lifted a weight from Rick’s chest even as the stress of passing through the high walls was creating a dark feeling in the pit of his gut.

Alexandria felt like a joke. How could one community survive all of this practically unscathed when everyone else had lost so much. Christ, even the people in here didn’t know how to deal with walkers. It was too much like the old world, too safe. The people were too nice, too comfortable.

It was almost voyeuristic, the way Deanna filmed all of them, asking invasive questions while relaxing on her couch like it was normal. “I’ve noticed you and Rick both have a mating bite.” Daryl subconsciously pulled his vest tighter over the juncture where his neck and shoulder met, shooting her the dirtiest look he could muster. “Are you two a pair?”

“Don see how that’s any o yer business.” She shrugged and crossed her legs, relaxing further into the couch she was sitting on.

“The two of you are close. It was only a natural question to ask.”

“Yeah well ya don need ta know.” Deanna raised her hands in surrender.

“Fine. I think we’re done here anyway. You can go.” He practically vaulted over the desk in his attempt to leave and rejoin the group. He felt trapped in this stupid house, in this community.

By the way Rick was standing, shoulders slightly hunched, vein in his forehead popping, and avoiding his brother’s eyes, Daryl knew he was asked a similar question about his mark. With a silent nod, the alpha told his lesser they would discuss it later when there were no prying eyes or ears. They were naked without their weapons, even within the obviously strong walls, all of the survivors were unsettled.

Daryl’s blue eyes constantly scanned the surroundings, unconsciously pulling his shoulders back so his chest was fully inflated, making him look bigger. Aaron walked out of the house last, Deanna standing in the doorway, observing the pack dynamics of the group.

She could see the pairs, Glenn and Maggie, Abraham and Rosita, but with the two lead alphas, there was a piece missing. She knew their bites couldn’t have been from each other, it was too small but they were identical, obviously having been done by the same person. Her chest ached at the thought, she was fiercely protective of her own omega and couldn’t imagine what she would do if she lost him.

Maybe they could restart here. Get some kind of comfort from the safety of the walls, keep the pups safe. They would be an asset once they settled. Aaron led them away, towards the empty houses in the back of Alexandria, she’d drop by later to check in on them.

The yowling coming from below the building Aaron had identified as the infirmary, was off-putting. It sounded almost pained. “I’m sorry about that.” Aaron seemed almost bashful as he walked the group by the house. “Who’s in there?” Rick was on edge in this new environment, and the strained screams set him off even more.

“We’re not sure. Eric and I found her about a month back. She’s pretty much feral but no one wants to give up on her.” Yet, Aaron didn’t stop, he led them on like a museum tour guide. No stopping for questions, don’t touch the exhibits. They were led to the outskirts of the town, far enough away from the others that they couldn’t pose a threat, but close enough that they could be watched. “Here’s where you can stay tonight, Deanna will find jobs for you all so you can spread out a bit more.” Carol took the lead as they filed in.

“Thank you so much for this, it’s nice to finally feel safe.” Her head was bent demurely, fingers twisting around each other, a shy smile on her face. Aaron seemed to relax a bit with her admission, laughing awkwardly and rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s really no problem. You folks have a good night.” Daryl recoiled at his friend’s crocodile tears, he wouldn’t admit it, but her suburban housewife act was thoroughly disturbing. Rick gave the recruiter a nod of thanks. Aaron positively beamed at her sentiment. “I’m glad I could be of help.” With a polite nod, he left the pack to their own devices. As soon as the door was shut, all eyes snapped to Rick.

“We need our weapons back.” Maggie leaned against the kitchen counter, Glenn sliding his arm around her, kissing the small claiming mark on her shoulder. “We need a plan.” He added.

They all gathered around the brand new kitchen, still wary, and slightly offset by the cleanliness of the house. Eugene unconsciously stood near Abraham and Rosita, as Michonne took her place beside Carl and Noah. Rick and Daryl were at the front of the group, the latter's eyes still darting around, trying to assess possible threats.

“It’s a smart idea for us to be in the same house, at least for tonight.” Stick together, no one goes anywhere without a buddy. The rules were the same as the outside, that’s how they would stay safe and more importantly, not lose anyone else.

They spoke in quiet whispers, too worried about listening ears and watchful eyes. And yet, Rick looked around his pack and noticed the exhaustion that seemed to settle over them like a raincloud. He sighed as he watched Carl’s head nod forward for what must’ve been the tenth time, his sheriff hat almost slipping off.

“We need ta get some rest. Daryl and I will take first watch.” Surprisingly, there is no fight. Michonne slipped Judith from his hold and led the others to the living room, they followed obediently, too tired to argue. But Carol stayed behind, still at her place by the kitchen entryway.

She looked so much older now, her eyes darker with a pain neither man could understand. “Just these walls won’t protect us and you know that. These people are too ignorant of the world out there.” Daryl crossed his arms over his chest, his omega’s bracelet catching the fading light of the sunset.

To think yourself safe and protected after all this time with only a 15 foot steel wall and a gate keeping out the world was foolish. It had been almost 2 years since the world fell, there was no telling how many walkers were out there now, how many Terminuses, how many Governors. The people of Alexandria were delusional and that made them dangerous.

Rick crossed his arms over his chest, chancing a brief glance at his partner before turning back to the omega. “We need proper weapons. Guns. But Daryl and I can’t go out, it’ll be too suspicious to have two alphas roaming around after dark.”

Carol smirked, her lips turning up in a small smile that Rick knew well. “But a meek omega looking around, needing some air, wouldn't call any attention.” Immediately Daryl answered.

“No.” His answer was final, no room for debate. But she ignored him, instead, she did up the buttons on her shirt and smoothed down her hair. It was almost magical the way she shrunk in on herself, the fierce lioness they knew so well disappearing behind hunched shoulders and downturned eyes. But to Rick, she looked like a predator waiting to pounce.

“I’ll be back in an hour with whatever weapons I can get. Don’t wait up pookie.” And she slipped out the door, quiet as a mouse.

Rick could hear the others settling down in the large family room, Judith making little squawks in response to her older brother’s muttering. It was a comforting white noise, the pack was alive, they were protected. “I don like when she does tha.”

The lead alpha clapped Daryl on the back as he walked past, smiling to himself. “C’mon we all need some rest.” With one last glance at the door, the archer followed.

——————

None of the pack could sleep. It was surreal to be safe for the first time in forever, to have access to (hot) running water, ready food, and actual beds instead of the flimsy mattresses in the prison, or even just the ground. But now, after being freshly showered with a roof over their heads and food in their bellies, sleep wasn’t coming.

Daryl was leaning against the entryway to the living room with Rick, watching over their pack as they settled. Rick couldn’t help but smile as he watched Carl play with Judith on the floor. The pup was smiling and giggling at her older brother who was leaning over her cot, fist clenched tight around his index finger, laughing every time he moved which caused her pudgy little arm to shake up and down, shaking her whole body.

“We’re safe here right?” The alpha wondered aloud, rubbing his freshly shaven jaw. Daryl only grunted in response. “We need somewhere to stay. If we can get back those weapons, we have a chance here. A real chance to live.”

“But can we do it without her?” Their hearts ached. It was finally settling in, that they were alone again, that they lost something they would never find.

“She woulda liked it here.” Daryl picked at his nails, still caked in dirt.

“Yeah she would.” The hope that the city had given him earlier was quickly dying as he got lost in his thoughts. Rick finally allowed himself to breathe. He couldn’t hold it in any longer, the tears quietly slipped down his cheeks as he thought of her, of her last moments alive. Were you trying to run? Trying to find him and Daryl? Did she fight through the hordes? He couldn’t stop the flashes of images behind his eyes if he tried.

Her smiling face. Walkers devouring a body. Her body arching in pleasure below him, sweat dripping down her skin. Dead hands clawing, pulling her apart as she screamed for him. The way she practically glowed in the moonlight as she danced with him on the farm. He knew Daryl could feel everything he could through their shared bond, he focused on the good, how she would run to him every time she saw him, how she coddled her pups.

The hunter’s fists clenched tightly into fists and his jaw locked. Rick opened his mouth to apologise but then, the front door swung open, revealing a greatly disheveled Carol.

“Carol?”

“Rick, Daryl. You need to come with me now.” She was trembling with excitement and fear, a little smile breaking through her usually schooled expression, her white hair mussed up from running her fingers through it.

“What’s goin’ on?” Rosita’s voice was thick with sleep, rubbing her eyes as she leaned against the fireplace where she had set up. Glenn and Carl also looked up, one of the last few still on guard.

“Please, just, I need you to trust me. This is important.”

She turned to leave once more but Daryl grabbed her arm. “Tell us.” None of them heard the creaking of the floorboards until another voice spoke from behind the matriarch.

“I hope I’m not interrupting.” Deanna stood in the doorway, her expression guarded, locked onto Carol. “I just wanted to see how you were settling in.”

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 8 months

Note

scoops!robin x reader ask :)

i think it would be cute if the reader came to visit robin at scoops and steve (who doesn't know who the reader is) was manning the register and decides to flirt a little bit. cue robin in the back laughing to herself listening to this shit go down until she's had enough fun and basically goes "hey dingus that's my gf i always talk about" and steve's like :O

500 celebration yaaaayy!!

MY FIRST ROBIN WRITE!!! if this does well might write for her more and anyone could always send in asks for her.

pairing: robin buckley x fem!reader wc: 1K

masterlist

when your fifteen minute break started you headed over to scoops hoping to catch robin for just a few minutes. it’s great that you and your girlfriend work at Starcourt, but it sucks when your breaks can’t align.

you hurried away from the movie theater and down the escalator, squeezing past the gaps between people. it was a bit rude, but you were being as polite as possible just wanting to see robin’s smiling face and freckles cheeks.

when you walked into scoops and saw not a customer in sight it made you happy since robin wouldn’t need to end her break right away unless someone ringed the bell. there wasn’t a worker behind the counter so you pushed the saloon doors open without complaint and frozen at the sight before you.

instead of your gorgeous girlfriend sitting at the small table in the back room, steve harrington was leaning in a chair as he chomped on a banana, his cheeks puffing like a chipmunk. his brows scrunched in the middle and his mouth came to a pout as he spoke, muffled by his food, “wo re ou?”

“friend of robin.” playing it safe even if robin has told you how she teases him around and he isn’t a bully anymore. you weren’t sure what else he knows though since you haven’t gotten the time to really meet this ‘new steve’. “uh, where- where’s robin? was supposed to meet before she was off break.” wringing your hands together as a mindless tick.

steve chewed a few more times before swallowing harshly, “said she wanted to take a lap. getting too cooped up in the store.” he threw his empty peel onto the white table top. “don’t think we’ve met before.” his head tilted to the side, probably trying to recall your face or name.

you moved away from the door to lean your back into the counter, hands curling around the linoleum beside you. “well, i’m only friends with robin. haven’t gotten to really meet you, king steve.” using the high school nickname to poke a bit of understanding from you to him.

steve winched, “so we went to high school together, got it.” he rested all four chair legs on the floor to lean onto the table, “i don’t know what robin’s told you about myself while she’s been here, but i swear i’m not like that anymore. stopped hanging around tommy and carol since november of ‘83, basically babysit without pay, i work here and wear this stupid uniform. i’m no longer king steve.”

you were quiet, taking in all this information you kinda knew already but processing it in steve’s words. and then you couldn’t help giggling a little as you said, “the uniform definitely isn’t the most flattering for a guy like you.”

steve smiled and cocked a brow, “a guy like me?”

a shrug of your shoulders, “well it’s the hat. ruins your best feature obviously, steve the hair harrington.” being fully sarcastic, but steve straightened up and pointed a finger at you with enthusiasm, “thank you! i’ve been telling robin that for so long.”

and speaking of robin, she still wasn’t around and you did want to get something to eat. a quick look at your watch telling you seven minutes have gone by. you kissed your teeth, “uh, i gotta go get lunch. uh, if you see robin just tell her i stopped by and i’ll call her.”

moving back to the door before a squeak and steve’s voice stopped you, “wait, uh, i could give you an ice cream. on the house, if you’d like.” running a hand through his hair.

you couldn’t help the simple smile on your lips, “that’s nice, steve, but kinda want actual food in my stomach for the rest of my shift.” and robin gives you free ice cream anyway.

he waved you off, “well the offers on the house whenever. also, where do you work in the mall. think i’d notice if you were around.”

index finger landed on the name tag stuck on your bright blue shirt, “movie theater.”

steve nodded his head at the information as he sat a hand to his hip, “well, if you're ever free and want to hang out. you know where to find me.” a certain lilt to his voice that you picked up on, but thought nothing of. “i’ll keep that in mind, harrington.”

you pushed through the swinging doors and just a few steps into the lobby someone called your name, a female voice and it made your heart jump and cheeks ache with a tight smile. robin came rushing into the ice cream parlor, the wind pushing her blue vest back and her strawberry blonde highlights waved in the breeze.

you opened your arms wide and she came running in with her freckled limbs wrapping tight around your waist. her face nestling into your neck, “i’ve missed you,” came her muffled confession.

you giggled sweetly, arms snug over her shoulders, “and i’ve missed you. but i need food so i can't stay any longer. since somebody-“ leaning your head and body to peek at robin, “chose to go for a walk instead of waiting for their girlfriend.” whispering the last word in her ear.

robin groaned, “i’m sorry, but if you have to listen to soccer moms and crying kids all day you’d need a breather too.”

the two of you stayed wrapped together, swaying side to side with an invisible tune. then there was a squeaking of hinges so the two of you broke apart to see steve walking behind the counter. his sailor hat back on his head and his eyes looking between the two of you.

robin pulled you with her as she moved closer to the counter, “steve this is y/n, my special friend. y/n this is steve, the lady killer.”

and you had to suck in the laugh that wanted to burst at the sight of steve widening his eyes to golf balls at this news robin was presenting to him.

“oh….”

#erin’s 500 special #mutuals in the box #robin buckley fic #robin buckley #robin buckley blurb #robin buckley fluff #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley x female reader

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thiswolficorn · 2 months

Text

Happy 4th Anniversary to Glitch Techs!

As a little gift to the fandom, here's a free crochet pattern so you can make your own Chomp Kitty plushie!!

Materials used:

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•4mm crochet hook (any will do, 4mm was the only size I had. KEEP IN MIND that hook size plays a role in determining the size of your plushie)

•Vibrant green wool/yarn (I got a 100g ball from Woolcraft, but I don't know the exact colour name.)

•Purple wool/yarn (Same as above) *

•Baby blue wool/yarn (Brand unknown)

•White wool/yarn (Brand unknown) *

•Black wool/yarn (Brand unknown) *

•Darning needle

*If you want to do less crocheting, you can use felt instead!! Just skip the parts where you crochet the stripes (purple), the teeth (white), the eyes (white and black) and the whiskers (black)

Note: Try your best to keep the thickness of your wool/yarn consistent. Having chunky wool in one part and then thin wool in a later part can look a bit weird sometimes. ALSO!! MAKE SURE YOU GET ENOUGH WOOL. That being said, a ball of each colour should be plenty! :D

If you want to make Horn, just swap out the colours! :D

Pattern Key:

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•MC = Magic Circle (A technique used for starting pieces)

•Sc = Single Crochet (A single stitch)

•Inc = Increase (Two stitches into one)

•Dec = Decrease (Crochet two together. Use invisible decrease for better, more uniform result)

•2(sc, inc) (This is an example of format. This means that you single and then increase twice)

If you don't know how to do these, I suggest looking up a tutorial on YouTube!

Alright, with all of that out of the way, here's the pattern:

Legs (Make 4)

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The legs are done in green.

R1: Magic Circle - 6 (6)

R2: Inc 6 (12)

R3: 4(2sc, inc) (16)

R4-6: 16sc (48)

R7: 2(6sc, dec) (14)

R8: 14sc (14)

R9: 2(5sc, dec) (12)

R10-12: (12) (36)

R13: dec, 10sc (11)

R14-16: 11sc (33)

Stuff the legs firmly, especially at the paws, so they keep their shape properly. If you have beans, you can put them in the paws to weight them!

Body (Sorry but the rounds are really messy here in terms of formatting, apologies for any pattern mistakes)

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Start with baby blue

R1: Chain 5 (5)

R2: sc into current stitch, 4sc, inc (7)

Rotate piece. Into the other side of the chain: 4sc, 3inc, 3sc, 3inc (19)

R3: sc, 2inc, 3(sc, inc), sc, 2inc, 2(sc, inc) (25)

R4: 3sc, 3(inc, 2sc), 6sc, 3(inc, 2sc), inc (35)

R5: 11(2sc, inc) (44)

R6: 14sc, 3(dec, 2sc), 5sc, 3(dec, 2sc) (37)

R7: 2[inc, 2sc, inc, 3(sc, inc), 2sc, inc, 6sc] (50)

R8: 52sc (52)

We will now crochet rounds around the outside of the leg, skipping the stitches on the inside (the ones that are attached to the body). Still crochet into the "corners"

Switch to green

We're going to attach the legs this round, without sewing. Push the hook through the next stitch, and then into one of the stitches of one of the legs. Pull the green through and sc.

R9: another 3 sc, same as before, go through the body and the leg. 8sc, Attach another leg by crocheting 4sc into the body and the next next leg, 10sc, another leg with 4sc, 8sc, another leg with 4sc, 10sc

R10: 3sc, 2dec, 14sc, 2dec, 16sc, 2dec, 14sc, 2dec, 16sc

R11: Full round of sc (When I said messy, this is what I meant lmao, I didn't count the stitches in each round for the body so I'm doing it in post and it might be wrong, my bad y'all)

Unfortunately, the next round might be hard to follow because I got lazy with my notes.

Sorry </3

R12: Another round of sc BUT in each leg "corner" (the first and last stitch that joins the leg to the body), dc. There should be 8dc total

R13: sc around the leg, sc, dec, 2sc, dec, sc, sc around the leg, sc until next leg, sc around leg, sc, dec, 2sc, dec, sc, sc to finish round

R14: 2[dec, 4(2sc, dec)]

R14: 2(3sc, dec), 3sc, dec, 4sc, dec, 14sc, dec, 4sc, dec, 10sc

R15-16: all sc

R17: sc, dec, 2(4sc, dec), 5sc, dec, 4sc, dec, 4sc, dec, 5sc

R18: 3(dec, sc), 9sc, 3(dec, sc), 5sc

R19: all sc

Start stuffing if you haven't already. Stuff after each round after this if needed. Firmly stuffing keeps the pose better but less firm means more cuddly. Your choice!

R20: 2dec, sc, 2dec, 5sc, 2dec, sc, 2dec, 3sc

R21: 4dec, 2sc, 4dec, 2sc, 6dec

Leave a generous tail to sew up the body. Use the darning needle to sew, then snip the excess and hide the rest by either pushing it into the body with the hook or using the needle to pull it through the side.

Head

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Start with baby blue. The Dark Ages are over and I started writing down the pattern properly again lol. (Sorry once again for the nightmare of the body)

R1: MC - 6 (6)

R2: Inc 6 (12)

R3: 6(sc, inc) (18)

R4: sc, inc, 5(2sc, inc), sc (24)

R5: 6(3sc, inc) (30)

R6: 2sc, inc, 5(4sc, inc), 2sc (36)

R7: 6(5sc, inc) (42)

R8: 3sc, inc, 5(6sc, inc), 3sc (48)

R9: 6(7sc, inc) (54)

R10: 4sc, inc, 5(8sc, inc), 4sc (60)

R11: 6(9sc, inc) (66)

R12: 5sc, inc, 5(10sc, inc), 5sc (72)

R13-25 (13 rows): 72sc (936) Good luck, soldier. Switch to green at row 14.

R26: 5sc, dec, 5(10sc, dec), 5sc (66)

R27: 6(9sc, dec) (60)

R28: 4sc, dec, 5(8sc, dec) 4sc (54)

R29: 6(7sc, dec) (48)

R30: 3sc, dec, 5(6sc, dec), 3sc (42)

R31: 6(5sc, dec) (36)

R32: 2sc, dec, 5(4sc, dec), 2sc (30)

Start stuffing if you haven't already. Stuff well to ensure your Chomp Kitty's head keeps the spherical shape. Continue to stuff after each round if needed.

R33: 6(3sc, dec) (24)

R34: sc, dec, 5(2sc, dec), sc (18)

R35: 6(sc, dec) (12)

R36: 6(dec) (6)

Leave generous tail, sew, snip, hide tail.

Tail

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The tail is done in green.

R1: MC - 6 (6)

R2: Inc 6 (12)

R3-5: 12sc (36)

R6: 3(3sc, inc) (15)

R7: 15sc

R8: 3(3sc, dec) (12)

R9-11: 12sc (36)

R12: 3(2sc, dec) (9)

R13-16: 9sc (36)

R17: 4sc, dec, 3sc (8)

R18-20: 8sc (32)

Stuff firmly so it sticks up! Leave tail for sewing. Sew onto body, snip, hide. You know the drill by now :)

Ears (Make 2)

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The ears are done in green.

R1: MC - 6 (6)

R2: Inc 6 (12)

R3: 6(sc, inc) (18)

R4: sc, inc, 5(2sc, inc), sc (24)

6(3sc, inc) (30)

Fold the ears over in half, then in half again. Unfold the second fold (this should crease it a little to make it pointy). Leave tail for sewing. When sewing, sew the side with the crochet stitches down so the clean edge is up top.

Eye whites (Make 2)

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The eye whites are done in white.

R1: MC - 6 (6)

R2: Inc 6 (12)

R3: 6(sc, inc) (18)

R4: sc, inc, 5(2sc, inc), sc (24)

R5: 6(3sc, inc) (30)

R6: 15(sc, inc) (45)

Leave tail. Sew on.

Pupils (Make 2)

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The pupils are done in black.

R1: MC - 6 (6)

R2: Inc 6 (12)

R3: 6(sc, inc) (18)

R4: sc, inc, 5(2sc, inc), sc (24)

Leave tail. Sew on.

Mouth

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The mouth is done in white.

R1: MC - 3 (3)

R2: Chain 1 to turn, inc until end of round (6)

R3: Turning chain, (sc, inc) until end of round (9)

R4: Chain, (2sc, inc) until end (12)

R5: Chain, (3sc, inc) until end (15)

R6: Chain, (4sc, inc) until end (18)

R7: Chain, (5sc, inc) until end (21)

R8: Chain, (6sc, inc) until end (24)

R9: Chain, (7sc, inc) until end (27)

R10: Chain, (8sc, inc) until end (30)

Leave tail for sewing. Sew on. Use black wool to embroider the teeth.

Nose

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The nose is done in purple.

R1: MC - 6 (6)

R2: sc, triple inc (three stitches into one), 5sc, tripinc, 4sc

Leave tail. Sew.

Head Stripe

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The head stripe is done in purple.

R1: Chain 2

R2: sc into the first chain (2nd chain from the hook)

R3: Chain to turn, sc into current stitch, sc into each stitch (3)

R4: Chain to turn, sc into current, sc into each (4)

R5-10: Continue this process of building up until you have 10 stitches across

R11-13: 10sc (30) Chain before the start of each row, but don't sc into the chain

Now just sc until the end of each round, skipping the current stitch. This decreases the rows by one each time. Continue until you only have one stitch left. Leave tail for sewing, sew on.

Tail Stripes

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The tail stripes are done in purple.

Small one:

R1: Chain 3

R2: 2sc, inc

R3: 3sc, inc (into other side of chain)

Leave tail, sew

Big one:

R1: Chain 5

R2: 4sc, inc

R3: 5sc, inc (into other side of chain)

Leave tail, sew

Body Stripes (Make 2)

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The body stripes are done in purple.

R1: Chain 15

R2: 15sc

R3: inc, dec, 13sc, dec, inc, dec, 13sc, dec

Leave tail, sew.

Whiskers (Make 4)

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The whiskers are done in black.

R1: MC - 9 (9)

R2: 3(2sc, inc) (12)

R3: 3sc

R4-6: Chain 1 to turn, 3sc

R7: Chain, dec, sc

R8-9: Chain, 2sc

CONGRATULATIONS!! YOU ARE NOW THE PROUD OWNER OF A CHOMP KITTY CROCHET PLUSHIE!!!

Feel free to tweak the pattern for yourself if you want! However, please do not release my pattern elsewhere, repost it, or sell it. This pattern is free!! It should not be gatekept!! (Also, it's a little unfair if you get to make money off of my design rip) If you want to share, reblog or share a link :)

Apologies for any typos or confusion due to formatting!! This is my first pattern! I tried very hard to make him accurate, but simplified some areas to make it easier. I hope you enjoy!!!

#happy 4 years to my canon event #glitch techs #This took me days #I really hope you guys like it #I will post pics #I just want to take some nice ones first #chomp kitty

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thetauntinghydra · 17 days

Text

King Abispa's Folley (TotSS/Wings of Fire Fic)

Based on a challenge for the WoF RP server I run.

Chapter 1

The Nightwing’s talons felt cold, surely, pressed up against the hard stone like that. Flattening to the wall, he recoils like a creeping vine, all too desperate to shrink away. His claws, now sore, scratch against the coarse grains as he inches further, chipping the keratin of his only lingering weapons. No one could imagine he had much fight left within him, after all, not after the show in the Mirror Gardens. This, of course, only emboldened the hissing guardsmen, who seemed to fill whatever vacuum the escapee proposed. The twilight’s dreary helios barely lapped the sunken wall, illuminated moreso by the desperate fires– now mostly put out– than by the echoes of day. In this, the dark-scaled dragon watched his reflection in the pearly Hivewing spears, only catching a glimpse whenever a new cloud of sparks wafted overhead.

It all seemed so calm now, despite everything. The ash could meander over as it pleased, drizzling through the space like dying fireflies. Yet Beholder was still forced here, pinned to watch as the Hivewings quickly reverse his frantic bid for revolution. ‘Sanctuary,’ he remembers thinking, ‘what a joke.’ It was in that moment, too, where the ‘savior’ finally reared himself. Abispa, and his gnat of a sidekick glimmered in the dim firelight. Lasius, talons coaxing tighter against her dagger’s heel, seemed to bore into his very being- sharp and sure. Beholder couldn’t help but try and avoid her glare, his eyes dashing instead to the still-bleeding gash on the King’s scarlet neck. Ironic, it was, as he stared into the dribbling sore, how a single lesion would likely be the only lasting wound in his rally for change. “Finally caught up with him?” Abispa starts, his signature lofted tone quite a bit more breathless than usual, “Good. Damned Animus nearly burned down half of Borer. Put a muzzle on his snout before he starts spitting spells again.”

A pair of guards had already been holding one, of course, only ever chomping at the bit. They buzz their wings anxiously- scoffing something in the Hivewing’s nonverbal language, no doubt. They take a few tentative steps, testing the metaphorical waters, and watch how he only ducks away further. Sneering now, they lunge on him, the shrill metal and rough leather caging in around Beholder’s maw even as he stretches away. His teeth flattened painfully against his gums, squeezed against the binds. His only lasting autonomy was his eyes now and his racing thoughts, which raged against the very concept of Abispa’s creation. “Perfect”, the King sighs, a cruel smile twisting across his face, “You won’t be able to mutter a single syllable now, thank you very much. Music to my ears, honestly. Well, save for that awful crackling.” The Hive King huffs to himself, tail lashing. His tone, save for his hint of furious inflictions, was more akin to scolding a dragonet than facing down an escaped prisoner. “A necessary evil, I suppose. All forseen. Better to work out the kinks of the Armada now, before your kin try anything fancier. Inciting a riot, my word, Beholder, how unoriginal.” It's then that Abispa slinks closer, shoving his face mere inches from the cowering Nightwing. His black teeth gnash violently, barely containing the rampant grin across his sniveling features. “You’re all just a single drop in the basket, Nightwing. One… stupid star in my constellation of perfection. Soon you will see… soon everyone will see- the true power of an Animus Army at my very talontips.” He recoils harshly, the cold air filling Abispa’s wake. “A shame I won’t see you on the front lines, but then you were never quite remarkable anyway.” Taking a breath, he stares down the failed attempt before him. Beholder: the firstborn of Shatteredmind, the second animus of the Hive, the third to rebel. Eye twitching in it’s socket, he shoots a poisoned glare to his deputy, spitting his final order. “Lasius, remove the muzzle from the mutt. I want to see if this valiant martyr has any last words for his King.”

The gray Hivewing wastes no time in fulfilling Abispa’s order, skulking forward to slip the leather mask off of Beholder. Almost instinctively, he takes a greedy breath, barely noticing the choked-out smell of smoke. There was little pity in her doings, ghosting along the floor as he'd pant. Her expression wasn't prideful like Abispa's, but cool and calm, her ambition simmering deep within. Stepping back, she only glowers at the Nightwing, eyes narrowing to dangerous slits.

“Speak,” Lasius commands, “Do not let your final breaths fall silent.”

Beholder, his chest heaving, stares down his insectoid pursuers, matching Lasius’s glare with dying ferocity. The stale air buzzed with false anticipation, eyes shifting and staring.

Licking his drying gums, he forces a sigh.

“Your army will never work, Abispa,” rasps Beholder, “Everyone outside your stupid hive knows it.”

He heaves his wings, bracing them back against his scabbing shoulders. The deputy raises a dangerous eyebrow, tapping a message to Abispa on the floor. It takes such effort to step forward, but the look on the Hivewing guard’s faces was all worth it.

“It.. it won’t be long until the others know it, too,” Scowls, the night dragon, hatred burbling in his core, “Moons… most of them already do. You think I did all this myself? That I’d throw my life away for my own sake? Nah… that's foolish, and you're a fool, too, if you think I’m the only one. The animi are waking up, Abispa, they're learning what you want to do.”

Another step forth, another tightened grasp on the spears.

“Even now they're watching… listening… learning from my mistakes. Next time you piss us off there won’t be just smolders… but bodies… bodies of you and your soldiers…” His gums flash pale… he knows he doesn’t have much time left-

“But I need to buy my dragons time. Abispa, you wretched nymph, I enchant you to disappear— to dissolve to a time where magic no longer exists! Go there– now– where you can’t harm another animus ever again–!”

The uproar was immediate, but not immediate enough. In the flash of spears and tongues and scales, The Hive King snaps his jaws in a desperate bid for retort— but his words fall flat. In fact, his whole being does, his essence condensing and warping, flung through existence and time.

Chapter 2

Tides are the sand’s best friend, which swoons against the lagoon’s flattening dunes. Lazily lapping, it provides the perfect ambiance to the Summer Palace’s lunching ambassadors. Across its lofty decks, Silkwings, Leafwings, and Seawings snacked above windswept maps. Curling in the breeze, dappled lines and dotted points adorned the scrawled-out LeafSilk Kingdom, its borders’ ink still damp. Few eyes seemed to be upon them, however. Instead, the dazzling indulgence of the midday meal distracted both sight and stomach. Huge platters adorned the nacre laminate, stacked high with aromatic delicacies. Smoked webfoot octopus, stewed softshells, algae poppers, and chia pudding endowed the salty air with enticement.

To Sundew, who sprawled across one of the driftwood chairs, it was all a bit too salty for her taste, despite her mother, Belladonna’s, ravings. She poked at a serving of shark tartare with a half-thought talon, choosing instead to trace her glances around the smooth oval table.

Ears pinning up towards her horns, she mayed herself in the conversations of chattier dragons. A small cohort of Silkwings seemed to drone on with a dappled Seawing prince, their words swinging between topics as varied as their scale colorations. Others, like her mother’s, never seemed to deviate much from the topic of their new home to the point where even Sundew was starting to bore.

The clatter of tongues, teeth, and talons, however, only added to the otherwise still atmosphere. That was, of course, until a matt of scales skids across the table. Abispa seemed to collapse from the sheer sky, slipping on his very wings and crashing against the plates. The cacophony sounded through his pinned ears, mirroring the uproar mere seconds before. His lungs seemed to wail against the salt-saturated air, begging for the breath that was knocked from him.

His tail slides across his newfound pedestal of platters, trying to shake the coconut cake from his scales. His eyelids squeeze with a wince, auditory senses returning to the shuffling of dragons. Yet, he wasn’t the first to react, not until the familiar scale-feel of steel slid against his bruising jugular. “The Hivewings sent spies!” cries a grizzled voice, forcing Abispa’s eyes alert. Shuddering from the blinding radiance of Noon, a blur of dark green and gleaming grey forces his head against the table. Blinking fiercely, what could only be described as a Leafwing bores down upon him, albeit slimmer– leaner– meaner. Soon, she wasn’t the only one, her fervor matched by the gang of unusually plump Seawings.

His thoughts were cresting upon him only once he was completely surrounded, a dire turn of events that brought Beholder’s words to the very forefront of his mind. “R-remove your talons at once!” hisses the Hive King sharply, attempting to rise but slipping on seafood, “I am Abispa you fools! Profound Hivewing royalty!” His demands hover in the space a moment, but are only met with the guards' growls and puzzlement from the council before him. Glares flicker between them towards the Hivewing and each other, before turning from Abispa entirely– much to his dismay. “He must be one of the Ladies’ husbands,” announces a paperwhite Silkwing who, to the King, looked rather misshapen and worn, “Look at the jewels… Bloodworm’s perhaps?”

“I am nobody’s husband-” recoils the King, “How DARE you reduce me to such a trophy–” “Who are you, then,” a broad-shouldered Seawing demands, “Hivewings aren’t welcome at this conference. Well, besides Treehopper– but that's not the point–! Introduce yourself. Now.”

“I am King Abispa, you fools!” he roars, “By the moons- Asterope would be broiling by now. Oarfish, even. Now, I DEMAND you remove your claws from my face before my dragons–” He pauses, voice caught in his throat. No one else had fallen with him… no one else had been enchanted by Beholder. “Damned Nightwing-” he jeers curtly, reluctant to finish his threat, “B-but my demand still stands. I am King Abispa of the Hivewings, you WILL unhand me.” Once again, the shout only lofts through the room, hanging in the breeze like a stale vapor. The Leafwings’s jaws clench, and the Seawing’s grips tighten, their eyes falling upon Abispa with deep uncertainty. “You never mentioned a ‘King Abispa’, Belladonna,” the Seawing growls, boring into the King with a startling lour. “There isn’t one,” replies this ‘Belladonna’, “He’s trying to ruse us, Princess. Wasp’s supporters must’ve sent him– I’m sure of it– and this oaf thinks pulling the royal treatment will garner him some sympathy.” “What do you recommend, then, Tsunami?” The paperwhite Silkwing returns to the side of the others– missing her harness– yet gaining a knowing glare, “Do you have somewhere here we can keep him? Question him, maybe? If there's one spy, there might be others.” “I am not some– insolent spy–” huffs Abispa again, rolling his neck in indignity, “If you listen to me, I am simply here by accident– an accident I will QUICKLY remedy once I return to my hive.” Gaining fervor now, he takes a try on his binds– roiling against the Leafwing’s grip, but only met by a flurry of spears. “Stay still,” Belladonna bristles, “You aren’t returning anywhere. Tau, alert your Silkwings, we may be staying longer than anticipated.” “You will do no such thing!” He gasps, jerking again, “I. Am. King. Abispa. The leader and monarch of Borer, the Hive King, the Gilded Throne! I am warranted respect!” With an indignant snarl, he lunges forth, blitzing his wings and slipping the spearhead from his scales. His face curls into a darkened snarl as he frees his head, ebony teeth gnashing. Despite the sudden flashes of silver, he doesn’t relent, racing all the way up to his feet.

Salt wasn’t the only thing stinging the staredown dragons, tension thickened the air like dribbling ichor. Where once sat a council now stood a bracket of warriors. Whatever sort of sick trick that Nightwing played was starting to lose steam, and Abispa- now surrounded by spears, felt the venom seep out of his and the Leafwing’s conjoined stare. These dragons weren’t going to let him go– the prospect swirls in Abispa’s mind as he slices the sight with his stare. Yet, even now, the room itself seemed to favor the King. In the open adornment, he could fling himself out of one of the many balconies, catch himself on the breeze, and fly westward. Even if he was in a different time, as Beholder enchanted, surely he could find a Hivewing willing to help their historic King. ‘Yes-’ his brain hisses, ‘Seawings… Silkwings… Leafwings… they aren’t very good fliers, are they? Slip out the window and lose them in the clouds… then find your subjects…’ The plan seemed simple, the only thing left was to be fought over with talons and teeth. Ambush. Be swift.

Abispa rears, baring his fangs in a braggart roar, clawing down on the Leafwing with a searing strike. The smell of hot crimson stings the senses, but the Hivewing doesn’t care, following quickly into another snapping bite. One– two– his teeth gnash breathlessly against the emerald frill, tainting their vivid color with liquid pain. He swirls around sharply, feeling the hot breath of a Seawing soldier against his nape. He jerks his claws against their gills, thrashing through violently. He was about to strike another blow when Abispa got his own, the blade tip of Tsunami’s spear shone through his membrane- forcing a diving swirl from the King. He snaps at the wood of it, snapping the grain between his teeth and– Crunch crunch

A Silkwing’s dagger digs into bone before Abispa has a chance to think. The pain sears the dire strain straight to the Hivewing’s skull– before another wound opens, and another–! Whoever had a spear, sword, or dagger at that moment was using it– every sharpened blade and coaxed brand trained on Abispa’s form. He lets out a vile hiss- a rapturous howl dripping ire. Soon, it wasn’t his enemy’s blood in the majority, but his own, his very footsteps leaving scarlet wakes. This was bad– what vigor left he had to use to flee– quickly–! This possession of will was wilting from the King, replaced by the hollow of his wounds. Maybe it was blood loss that tore him, maybe it was another shrieking stab, but in that instant, Abispa felt once again as if he was falling– falling and falling and falling– until the scent of flame engulfed him once again.

Chapter 3

“Tap tap taaap, click tap tip tap, bzzzzzt”“Sliiiiiiither– stomp, tap tap bzzzzt, chk chk!”“Chk tap tap chk! Bzzt dmmm sliiithering now… Lasius– there's another one here– one under his wing, too.”“I've got it. ‘I enchant this wound to close like the others… I enchant this wound to close, too.’ Any others, Louse?”“Not that I can see… that's seven countings... Oh– wait, wait a second– Sir? Sir– Your Majesty, can you hear me?”It's rare for a Hivewing to be unable to understand their nonverbal language, but expressing trauma– like nearly bleeding out– would usually be considered atypical circumstances. Even now, as Abispa lays against the familiar– yet different cold floor, he revels silently in the smell of salt dissipating from his nostrils. “I can hear you… yes,” he wheezes, barely gaining consciousness of his own breath, “Where… where am I now–?” “Borer, sir,” the one named Louse replies, “I.. we don’t know where Be– the prisoner– took you… but he's been disposed of. Lasius took care of it.” “How did I return-?” continues the King, weakly peering now. “That was Lasius too, my liege. It took a minute to deconstruct the spell, but Lasius was able to undo it in time. W-we’re sorry it took so long– sir– I understand if… erm, my station lies elsewhere now–” “No…” mutters Absipa, “That isn’t necessary…” The hot basin Absipa lays in quickly dries, magically so, and the scent of his own blood quickly banishes itself from his senses. His wounds, where once searing, now stood still, his tendons and bones barely bruised.

The brain fog of bloodlessness didn’t help, of course, but in that moment– surrounded by his soldiers– Belladonna, Tsunami, Tau… they all felt like figments in a dream, dematerializing to the memories of a dreary midnight gaunt. Better this way, Absipa considered it, even as he adjusted his chin against the cold ground and spread his woundless wings. He can consider the prospects of it all later. For now, he just wanted to rest.

#wings of fire #wings of fire rp #wof #wof oc #oc story #oc lore #writing #wrestling #writers on tumblr #writers and poets #dragon story #fanfic

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captorcorp · 6 months

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ok im rambling about my thoughts on tadc bc i have many (long post)

ok first of all general character opinions with walk cycle gifs to break up the walls of text (gifs from here):

caine: the silly guy... literally why red recommended this to me was the digital world setting + an ai character and they know me too well because every ai character is my favorite by default. i'm very excited to see what we end up learning about him throughout the series, also i absolutely love that he was inspired by AM from ihnmaims but 'if he was a silly little guy instead of fueled by hate' or whatever the creator said about him. his weird head design is really creative though it does discomfort me a bit sometimes, something about the combination of eyes and teeth;;; still think he's kinda tumblr sexyman coded besides the teeth head but most people are too distracted with objectifying jax so he gets a pass

pomni: she's cool!! it's hard to form a solid view of her so far bc most of what we've seen is her being understandably overwhelmed with and O.O at everything, but she seems like she'll be a pretty interesting protag - i liked them showing her moments of weakness with leaving ragatha behind too. that being said i think she stretched out the 'omg this isn't real what's going on???' freaking out bits way too long but that's just a personal gripe with that sorta stuff in media like this. if i was isekai'd into the digital circus i would simply be so chill about it after only 5 minutes of panic. rip to pomni but i'm different /j oh yeah also a fun character design even though i don't really like clowns she's just very Shaped

jax: motherfucker. jk i actually don't feel that strongly about him i just find him slightly annoying at times. at first i thought 'oh ok he's a loveable asshole yeah he's kinda entertaining so he's cool' and then he just ended up being more asshole than loveable. also thought he was sexyman coded and was unfortunately right this time ^^; apparently he's the creator's fave too?? so hopefully he doesn't get away with too much stuff without consequences, or he's gotta actually get some positive traits yknow. however i do love his design with the big grin and semicircle eyes and etc, very cartoony and fun. if the controversial blorbo poll was still open i would submit him bc it seems like the fandom is split on him. but also kinda tired of him from fandom overexposure

ragatha: she's really nice and i want to be her friend - looking forward to seeing where her character goes in the future though, bc we've only seen her being polite and forgiving and sweet and etc, and i think she should be allowed to kill people /hj. it was cool seeing her get glitched too even if ;-;. i was never into raggady ann stuff like i've heard the creator is but her design is still cute too, even if less surreal than some of the others ^^

bubble: keep forgetting this guy exists, not a huge fan tbh? gets some points for being another ai though. looks like a chain chomp. i do like that they're able to be popped and respawn though, that's a fun quirk. the scene with them cleaning up after pomni is p gross

kinger: i barely thought about this guy during the pilot tbh so was surprised to see the fandom all adoring him. kinda just reminds me of fear from inside out. but actually overexposure of him from tumblr and other people enjoying him kinda made him grow on me a bit (reverse of what has been happening w jax). he's pretty cool to me now. i can't believe fandom already gave him a tragic backstory with that queen chesspiece we see crossed out...

zooble: another character i didn't really think about, though i like their design and detachable body parts and such. i also couldn't really get a good sense of their personality tbh? i think they just need more screentime honestly

gangle: i wanted to like her a lot more than i did when i first saw her bc her design is very fun, with the ribbon-based body and comedy/tragedy masks and etc. but ended up not getting too interested in her as a character. but i think she's in the same category as zooble where she needs more screen time and character development though? bc she still seems like she could be cool if her personality gets explored more

thoughts on the overall pilot:

ngl i have a whole bunch of gripes about it despite also rotating it in my mind. i feel like a lot of the characters are a little 1-dimensional currently, even if i do find those dimensions appealing for the most part, hoping they get more characterization in the actual main season though. also most of the pacing/jokes didn't really land for me or felt a bit forced, though there were some good bits like king's hands following zooble's head, pomni opening doors to surreal scenes like the bathing mannequin, jax getting choked by zooble's hand, the randomly generated 5-letter names, also any of the cartoony imagery gags like the censor bars or cartoon dust cloud of gloinks.

however, overall i enjoyed it still!!! all of the animation has so much charm and character to it, surreal semi-human character designs are always great, it's very colorful and bright and reminiscent of old early 2000s activity center games, etc. it gives me kinda 'welcome home' vibes, with both being bright and cheery exteriors meant to mimic old media style that mask darker stuff under the surface. also the general plot of like. people being trapped in this weird setting and forced to participate in fucked up (?) games by some mysterious mastermind (well we know who the mastermind is but not much about him) while struggling to escape or understand why they've been trapped here... very common plot but always is intriguing to me. also of course [holds digital worlds and ais in my hands] my beloved tropes...

thoughts on the fandom:

i am. concerned. that there seems to be an overlap with the h*zb*n h*t*l fandom;; but also i don't know anything about that show's status besides like. callout posts about the creator and people complaining about the pacing/character designs and etc. so i don't really know if all of the hh fans is bc it's like, also an animated series that appeals to the same audience? or if it's going to be too similar or inspired from it or also have a problematic creator somehow 😔

otherwise it's whatever, maybe a bit on the :I side bc i already saw someone make a y*nd*r* jax imagine post and it scared me hjkdfs. otherwise mostly just usual fandom stuff i think? dunno.

actually nevermind i just got back from twitter and apparently the creator is already feeling :/ about their own fandom and apparently people on tiktok are hcing some fucked up stuff about jax so. can fans be normal for 2 seconds please.

#kcat talks #ok ramble over i'm normal again ^^ <- lying #just f about the association w the fanbase if it continues to be :/

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razieltwelve · 1 year

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Body Language and Gestures For Non-Humanoid Characters

Body language and gestures can play an important role in characterisation. We can see this via some of the characters from The Unconventional Heroes Series.

Gerald, for example, is often depicted as nervous, anxious, and fearful. This isn’t done solely through words but also through his body language and gestures. Conversely, Avraniel’s body language and gestures suggest a character who is confident to the point of being brash, a person who prefers actions over words and who will gladly wade knee-deep through the blood of her enemies.

But not all characters are the same. In particular, although many characters are humanoid (e.g., humans, dwarves, and elves) not all characters share the basic body structure of two arms, two legs, one head, and so on. What about those characters, how should you handle their body language and gestures?

The most important thing is to acknowledge that they are not humanoid. As a result, not all of their body language and gestures will be the same. They may be unable to act in certain ways that a humanoid character might while being able to act in ways that a humanoid character cannot. Their physiology may also be bound to certain psychological traits that you need to consider as well.

We’ll use Spot, who is a dragon, as an example.

A dragon has six limbs, consisting of two arms, two legs, and two wings. A dragon also has a tail and tends to walk on all fours although walking on their legs is possible. In Spot’s case, his arms (which tend to operate more as legs) end in claws that grow more and more dextrous over time until they can eventually be used like hands. All of his limbs end in wickedly sharp claws, and his teeth are far larger and sharper than any humanoid character’s teeth.

Due to the shape of his body, Spot cannot use the same sort of body language and gestures as other characters like Timmy or Gerald. Instead, for Spot to feel like a real character, he needs to use body language and gestures that take advantage of his physiology. What sort of body language and gestures might these include? Here are a few of them:

As a dragon, Spot will often draw himself up into a threat display. This involves rearing up and flaring his wings to make himself seem as large as possible. It may also involve baring his teeth and allowing flame to kindle in his jaws. The human equivalent might be to stand straight and loom over someone, but that just wouldn’t feel right for a dragon to do when a dragon can do so much more.

Spot will often use his head to nudge, poke, and otherwise interact with people and objects. This is due to his lack of dexterity with his claws. Since he is a dragon, his head is heavily armoured to the point it can be used as a battering ram. As a result, it’s perfectly acceptable for him to use it in a way a human never would. When he’s curious, he might gently nudge Katie with his head to get her to explain something. But when he’s mad, he can easily send a bandit flying by ramming them with his head.

Spot has been seen wagging his tail in a manner similar to a dog when he is happy. This is not something all dragons do. Instead, it is a result of Spot having a tail and growing up around a dog (Chomp). Due to the current stubbiness of his tail, he also can’t use it in the more intricate fashion of an adult dragon.

Rather than walk, Spot is often described as loping, stalking, or otherwise moving in a more predatory fashion, even when he isn’t actually threatening anyone. As a dragon, that’s just how Spot moves. It is instinctive, and it is a reminder to everyone else of what he is.

Although Spot uses telepathy to communicate speech, he also relies on a range of other sounds to communicate. He will trill, croon, rumble, and so on – sounds that humans cannot easily make. He makes these sounds because he isn’t human. They are the sounds a dragon would make, and him not making them would be strange.

As you can see, Spot’s body language and gestures belong to a dragon because he is a dragon. It would be extremely unusual for him to have exactly the same body language and gestures as the humanoid characters. Indeed, a running gag is for him to adjust his movements to avoid accidentally damaging things in places designed with humanoids in mind (e.g., it’s easy for him to accidentally knock things over if he isn’t careful about his wings).

Of course, Spot isn’t the only non-humanoid character around. Sam is a protoplasmic horror from another dimension who has near-limitless control over his own biology. He most commonly appears as a floating sphere of eyes, tentacles, and teeth. Apart from using a form of eldritch telepathy to communicate with Timmy (who is one of the few people who can withstand it), he relies on shape changes, colour changes, and tentacle movements to convey his thoughts and feelings. This is an even more extreme case than Spot since Sam’s physiology can change dramatically in a way that Spot’s can’t. However, the important thing is that his very much non-humanoid shape is accompanied by body language and gestures that suit it. This makes him more believable as a character and makes it easier for readers to picture him in their minds.

Body language and gestures are important parts of characterisation. However, for non-humanoid characters, you should always remember that their body language and gestures may not be the same as for humanoid characters. Taking these differences into accounts can help make them more memorable and unique.

If you’re interested in my thoughts on writing and other topics, you can find those here.

I also write original fiction, which you can find on Amazon here or on Audible here. I’ve also just released a new story, Attempted Rescuing!

#writing technique #writing #writing advice #writing tips #improving your writing #body language and gestures #characterisation

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