#them still being friends keeps me alive honestly

[drakomod]

Still been on a bit of a bard Finley kick, so of course I had to make him a ref!! This guy is so ridiculously pink.

His main outfit is from the BG3 Mystical Fashions mod! With some minor changes. The first outfit on the far left is an original one designed by me, you can see the full fit here. The other 3 are pulled directly from the game. And I could have honestly grabbed more XP He has so many outfits.

Comm info | Cara | Twitter | Twitch | Discord

More about Tiefling Bard Finley under the cut :D (Finley is an OC of mine that has been made into a Tav for BG3, so technically this is an AU!)

Finley grew up as an urchin outside and around Baldur's Gate. He was, as most tieflings are, treated very poorly growing up and mostly raised himself on the streets. He had big dreams that could never quite be stomped out after he had found a love for music in a music box, and later, a broken lute.

He met another young tiefling named Paisley, a young boy with a particularly strong affinity for fire. With Finley's love for music and storytelling, and Paisley's magical talents, they were able to perform on the streets and do their best to keep themselves alive.... With the odd pick pocketing here and there when necessary.

Later he managed to find work in a brothel. He had hoped for it to be his first real gig as a musician, but was offered better pay for other services that he couldn't rightfully refuse from his current living situation. Only later, when he got to go out and adventure with friends, did he truly get to be the bard he had always wanted to be.

Other fun facts!

Finley does like pink, and mainly wears it to match his skin to look non-threatening. His actual favourite colour is blue.

Since tieflings face a lot of racism and comments about their fiendish nature, Finley greatly dislikes being compared to demons and devils and can sometimes take well-meaning comments a little too seriously.

The markings on his face are partially a birth mark, partially a face tattoo funnily enough. He hasn't had the best influences in friends and partners, and previously dated someone who wanted to practice tattoos with his birthmark. Luckily it's not too bad.

He was born with heterochromia and is actually able to see invisibility without casting any spells.

the pouches on his waist hold spell components and other useful items, he also has a little latch there that holds his flute.

His primary instrument is his lyre, but since it's big and potentially unwieldly at times, he has the flute as a backup. He could also sing to cast his spells, but that can be greatly effected by his condition and emotions.

He's a bard of valor, and isn't opposed to getting down and dirty with the rest of his party. His high Dex allows him to practically tank for the party if needed. And by tank, I mean just not get hit.

He's a Mephistopheles tiefling

His glasses have a loop in the metal arms to wrap around his ear to avoid losing them in combat. It's not fool proof though and still does happen sometimes.

For people who aren't familiar with BG3 tieflings, those ridges on his skin are not body modifications, but actual bumps and ridges underneath his skin that he was born with.

[koolades-world]

Demons and Humans not understanding each other

Inspired by several other posts I read about this same thing <3 honestly even if the brothers insisted it was safe, I would consult Satan, Lucifer or Barbatos

this is mostly mammon freaking out

Humans think the deadliest things are like, adorable, like Cerberus. Mammon especially does not understand why Mc wants to run towards the very dangerous, very mad three headed dog. A few times he has had to throw Mc over his shoulder to keep them from staying behind

“MC CERBERUS BEING THE BEST BOY DOES NOT JUSTIFY HIS ACTIONS HE WANTS TO KILL US”

“But he’s so cute! He just needs a snuggle buddy”

Humans can also be very stubborn if they’re too hot or cold but refuse to admit it. It’s fine with Lucifer does it because he’s one of the most powerful and therefore resilient demons in Hell, but not so much when Mc does it. Beel and Mammon love playing in the Devildom snow, but given that it’s the Devildom, it’s definitely a lot colder than it is in the human realm. Even after ten layers, Mc is still freezing but refuses to admit it.

“Mc, are ya shivering? I thought ya would be too warm under all that”

“I’m sweating with this one jacket”

“I’ll live! Let’s go back to the snowman”

“no I don’t think you will”

On the same note, sometimes demons forget humans can’t withstand crazy temperatures. Asmo will invite Mc to a popular bathhouse, sauna or hot springs, forgetting that the temperature would literally boil Mc alive

“Hey Asmo this is the place you wanted to go, right?”

“Yes! Isn’t is cute?”

“Everything except the part where I boil alive”

“what!”

Some foods can kill humans just by being near them so imagine how the brother would feel when they learned this, it’s giving that lunatic pudding incident with Diavolo from that one card

“Mc! You’ll love this. Open wide!”

“Asmo I feel funny”

“DO NOT FEED MC THE TAKEOUT LUCIFER SAID ITS DEADLY FOR HUMANS IN LARGE AMOUNTS”

“FUCK NOT AGAIN”

In retrospect, humans probably sleep a lot compared to demons. Some demons probably don’t sleep at all, except Sloth demons. Setting aside about eight to nine hours of the day just to sit idly might not make sense to them until they learn they will shut down without it

“How are you feeling about the exam we just took? Exam week is finally over.”

“Mc? Mc, Satan is talking to you. Why are you on the floor”

“MY HUMAN IS DEAD”

“No, I think they’re just asleep idiot”

“oh. wait, THEYRE ASLEEP IN THE MIDDLE OF THE HALL lucifer is gonna kill me”

I’d say both demons and humans are social creatures, but humans will go insane without social interaction. Yeah a demon would probably be upset if they didn’t talk to someone for thousands of years but I don’t think a human could last more than ten without losing grip on reality. Humans tend to copy each other, which is probably bizarre to demons. Humans don’t even understand yawning so demons definitely won’t

Going back to the food thing, demons can probably go ages without eating, besides Gluttony demons. Humans need to eat so frequently compared to them

“So you’re tellin’ me that if Mc doesn’t eat for a whole week, their insides start to eat themselves?!”

“Yes. But, Mc ate a few hours ago.”

(Mammon was already gone when Satan turned back around)

Demons probably also play game that would definitely kill humans. My brother and I used to play crazy games when we were little (our favorite game didn’t have a name but we would put Barbies in the toy train tracks and see what would happen when different Thomas and friends character would hit her. The train tracks would glow in the dark! I did not let him put my favorite doll in the train track and he had to listen since I was the older one, she was not a barbie and had bendy feet? that’s not for now) but we never seriously got at each other throats. I cannot imagine what games demons and demon children must play. Satan was born fully grown but imagine if he was born little and the brothers had to play his favorite games with him. I feel like they would find the Barbie game I played a little weird too. Like, they would probably tell me that I should’ve done it in real life since that would be better experience or something batshit like that

“Aww, Satan, do you remember all the times we played “Five minute eye stab” with Lucifer? You were so cute. Sometimes I think Luci let you win.”

“Do not talk to me Asmodeus.”

“I’m sorry, you played what?”

“One time we gave him an actual knife by accident and since he was good, he ended up stabbing Lucifer’s eye.”

“You’ll be next if you don’t shut up and let me read”

“HE WHAT”

“Oh he’s fine now, clearly. Only took him a few hundred years to regain normal eye functions”

“Can we not talk about this anymore?”

Babe it is a miracle Mc is still alive

[dcxdpdabbles]

Cave boy Danny. What if he offhandedly mentions his parents being THERE (as in not dead) and being Doctors (not the same kind of doctors Bruce's parents are) and things like that and doesn't realize that the batfam starts thinking that this? This is what's different with this Bruce. He didn't lose his parents and thus does not grow up wanting vengeance, and his parents are similar in personalities but in a different field!

Now Danny is still as casual young Bruce as ever but the others are just freeking out around him.

Things are strange for a while. Danny knows that his actions have caused the Waynes to be....wary around him. Even Jason- who honestly threw a whole ass parade for Gotham in celebration of Joker's death- seemed to be tense around him.

Danny can't really say he blames them. He still doesn't know why Phantom reacted the way it did- a bit alarming. His ghost side marked Joker as a threat from the moment it laid eyes on him- a threat that could not and would not be reasoned with.

His ghost -half attacked, knowing that Joker's existence threatened his core. A core that was created from the desire to keep his friends safe at the moment of his death. (He had known he would die the moment the portal's electricity hit him- and Danny had not been mournful of his end but rather horrified that Tucker or Sam could have followed him to the afterlife. His last thought as a human was Please let me live long enough to keep them safe.)

Never has that happened before- not even when faced with Vlad or Dan. It was strange to watch Phantom attack and not be in equal amounts of control within his body.

Phantom has always felt a part of him but also not. Danny had once tried to explain it to Jaz, only to end up frustrated when she tried to paint Phantom as a different personality that shared the mind-space with Danny.

Danny knows Phantom isn't like that.

He's not another person- Phantom is Danny in the same sense that Danny is alive but dead. For the same reason, Danny is the flipped color scheme of Phantom. They are one, just viewed differently.

Or maybe they saw the world differently?

It's hard to say and even harder to put into words.

The closest Danny could come to explain was an example Tucker gave him. Someone is the same but acts ultimately differently online, even when they aren't trying to catfish someone.

It's the fact they are behind a screen that gives them just the extra amount of courage. Tuck had said.

Ancients, he misses Tuck. His ship is not ready to venture into his Ghost Zone- hell, if Danny is honest, it's barely able to move. He is trying his best to get it working, but it's slow going. Too slow, even with Wayne's generosity.

"Master Brucie," Alfred started, pausing just within the doorframe of Danny's room until invited in. He does that now, keeping to his manners as though Danny was a guest of the Waynes. Not someone who he can be so familiar with.

It stings to know his killing had lost him the right to be treated as a stranger when Alfred had always treated him as young Bruce Wayne the moment he was found.

"Yes?" He asks, trying to smile. It falls flat, but it's worth the effort.

Alfred's face stays impassive, and Danny tries to tell himself that he doesn't care. He's not a young Bruce Wayne. He wants nothing to do with the Wyanes'.

"There are more gifts for you." The bulter says. "Shall I bring them to your room?"

Danny has received a lot of fan mail since his actions were leaked to the public. Everyone knew that Joker was taken out by Danny Kane. And there wasn't a single person in Gotham who hadn't been hurt or known someone injured by the madman.

He is being praised as a hero.

For murder.

Danny can't find it in himself to feel guilty about it. Joker needed to die. He had too many chances to change, and too many people got hurt.

"That's okay. I'll go downstairs and look through them. I feel like watching a movie anyway." He shrugs his shoulders while strolling to the door in his lazy stride.

Alfred steps out of his way, bowing ever so slightly. "Very good sir."

Sir.

That stings.

Danny doesn't bring it up or mention that Alfred keeps a safe space between them. Not enough that it would be rude, but definitely one of a servant following a master instead of a man who thought him the younger version of his son.

When they arrive at the room, he is surprised to find a white shipping cart filled to the brim with packages and letters waiting for him. Standing beside the cart, flipping through the envelopes, is Tim.

He has yet to see much of Tim. Not since Danny proved his doubts weren't as unfound as Danny actively tried to convince the other teen of.

No time like the present.

"Hey, Tim." He calls just to mentally get the other prepared for his approach. As expected, Tim whips around with a narrow eye-ed glare that does nothing to hide his distaste for Danny. Alfred follows them into the room but stays by the door at an appropriate distance. "Anything good?"

"Good, how?" Tim bites, and Danny fights to not roll his eyes.

"I don't know. Maybe a letter from my mom saying I'm a good boy or another football from dad-"

"I beg your pardon?" Alfred cuts him off- which, okay, that's never happened before. The butler has never overstepped his position- even when they thought him harmless little Brucie- to talk over him.

Danny turns to find the man pasty white, looking both cautiously overjoyed and wishful. "Did you make a joke about your parents, Master Brucie?"

"Ugh, Yeah? Why?"

"Young sir, are- are your parents alive?"

Danny is floored by the choked-up emotion in that one sentence that all he can do is nod. Tim drops the package he was checking over, his jaw slacked, and staring at Danny like having parents was the answer of the universe.

"Thomas and Martha Wayne are alive in your universe.." Tim all but breaths. "They are alive and have more than one kid."

"Why is that a big deal?" Danny asks, unable to himself. "What happened to Bruce's parents here?"

"Master Thomas was a doctor," Alfred says, ignoring Danny's question. But he now hears the answer in the past tense when referring to Bruce's parents. "Is he still in your world?"

"Yes, and so is my mom." PHD doctors, but they don't need to know that.

"That's why you like this." Tim slumps into the chair closest to him. Danny is mightily alarmed that he seems pale now. "That's why you don't know anything about Batman. He was never inspired. You....you really are a civilian."

Danny will deny that he fleed the room when Tim burst into tears till the day he died. He does not look back even when Alfred yells for his return. He has outstayed his welcome.

He slips into his room, grabs anything not nailed down with any form of technology, and then activates his intangibility. He sinks down down, and down, to the caves. He knows where the Bats work, knows where to go from his nights where he tried to work on ship.

He flies in that direction, knowing he will never see the Waynes again. Not after realizing how much pain his lies have unwillingly caused.

Master Post Link

[girlokwhatever]

₊˚ପ⊹˚୨୧⋆ ⋆༉‧₊˚.: ̗̀➛ she loves me, she loves me not,,

part 3 ; back and forth

previous part

paige bueckers x fem!reader (fake dating trope)

it’s been a week since you last saw paige, relentlessly rejecting her invitations to hangout and spend time together.

at first you were able to use the excuse of being sick as you feigned cough over the phone. but after five days, realizing no one else was sick and you sounded relatively fine, she stopped believing you. you only answered her phone calls, typically ignoring her texts and using the excuse of sleeping being the reason you hadn’t ever replied.

she was starting to get annoyed. especially when she saw you out in public with a group of your friends. you lied, and now she caught you red-handed.

she approached your friend group, recognizing a few of them. you were laughing, no cough and no watery eyes from the cold you claimed to have. if anything you seemed great, smile glowing like you didn’t have a care in the world.

“hey, babe!”

“paige- hey.. what are you doing here?” you attempt to keep the cheery tone of your voice alive, smile still plastered on your face.

“i could ask you the same thing.”

“i’ll catch up to you guys later.” you wave yourself goodbye, turning away from your friends in what seems like a loving embrace with paige.

she’s pissed. her brows are furrowed and there’s an evident frown on her lips as she looks at you. you try to come up with some excuse for being here, something to cover up your avoidance of the woman standing in front of you. nothing comes to mind though and you’re stuck in the awkward silence for a few moments.

“are we just gonna pretend like you haven’t been lying to me for a week?”

“i haven’t.”

“right. i can obviously see how deathly sick you are.”

the reality of your behavior started to sink in, guilt trickling into your consciousness. you knew you had your reasons though, even if it wasn’t properly executed.

after the party last weekend everything shifted for you. you knew it could only end one way and figured taking matters into your own hands wouldn’t be too bad. if you pushed her away, maybe whatever was going on between the two of you would fade.

it wasn’t. it consumed paige’s every breath. every thought and emotion. once she figured out you probably weren’t actually sick, her heart sank. she couldn’t understand what was going on with you or your ‘relationship.’ your lack of communication didn’t help much either.

“i don’t really want to talk about this.”

“then what else should we talk about? maybe we should talk about how all my friends are asking where my girlfriend went and i have to make up some lame excuse on why you refuse to talk to me. let’s talk about that. or maybe we can talk about how you’ve completely shut me out. or do you have nothing to say? like you’ve had nothing to say for a while fucking week.”

“shut up.”

“no, i-”

“shut up. bianca is like, ten feet away.”

she’s about to turn her head (amateur move) in the direction you’re looking but you stop her, managing to cup your hands around her face in time. her eyes still wander around trying to catch a glimpse of something, anything, but decides you’re the best view.

even though she’s mad, upset, and honestly hurt that you lied, she can’t feel that way forever when you look like that. you’re looking straight into her eyes like you’re searching for something. paige’s eyes scan over you in your entirety, especially landing on your lips every now and then.

and it’s as if, by some miracle, you understand what her eyes are saying. her eyes are saying something her words can’t and won’t say. without giving yourself time to process your decision, you pull paige in by the sides of her face and kiss her.

it’s surprisingly slow and sweet, only lasting a few seconds. you thought you’d panic into it but it just felt so natural. paige’s hands find solace on your hips, pulling you closer when you part from her lips.

she doesn’t know if bianca is still watching and honestly doesn’t even care. she pulls you into a kiss of her own, this one being much more desperate and heated. you have to grip the back of her neck to steady yourself as she pulls you further into her space. the kiss lasted longer than either of you intended, finally pulling away and fighting for air.

paige is still so close to you, holding your body against hers. she leans in, kissing your forehead, then moves her face down to your ear, “don’t ever avoid me like that again.”

you nod at her words, not taking the time to comprehend how serious her tone is. when you turn your head you catch a glimpse of bianca and she’s already staring back at you, a deep frown settled on her face. you look away from her instantly and focus back on paige, who is still standing in front of you with her hand on your cheek.

“i’m so sorry i did that, i really should’ve asked first.”

“nah, don’t apologize. girlfriends kiss, right?”

you experience a whirlwind of emotions almost instantly. realizing everything that’s happened in the span of five minutes astonishes you undoubtedly. you can’t believe you kissed paige, and even more so than that, you can’t believe she kissed you back. out of her own free will, she pulled you back into another kiss.

paige was probably the best you’ve ever had too, but you don’t really have her.

it’d been a few weeks since the beginning of your scheme with paige. things were starting to go better, get more casual. she was sitting on your couch next to you, your legs draped over hers as you watched a movie together.

you never ended up officially talking about the kiss or the fact that you ignored her. you were thankful that she just let those moments pass because you honestly had no idea what kind of excuse you could make up for either.

paige’s hand brushed through your hair and gently pulled out any tangles as she went. it was sweet, loving even. anyone from an outside perspective would think it to be highly romantic.

“hey, i think im gonna go out with my friends tonight. eva’s trying to plan this friend get-together thing.”

she turns to you, peeling her eyes away from the screen. her gaze flickers between your eyes and lips, something you don’t notice because you’re texting eva back.

paige can’t help but to think about how beautiful you are, especially when it’s her shirt you’re wearing. it’s nothing out of the ordinary, even before your predicament, but it feels much more intimate now.

“that’s cool. where’re yall gonna go?”

“to a club i think. eva’s a party girly.”

“like you?”

you feign a gasp, finally looking at paige. she’s looking back at you with a grin because she loves to tease you and she loves being right.

“like me?! i’m not,” you’re shaking your head in denial. there’s still a smile on both of your faces when you lock eyes. paige’s hand stills in your hair, traveling down to the back of your neck.

she hardly even registers that she pulls your face into her, meshing your lips together. she kisses you, slotting her lips between yours in a delicate moment of intimacy. you kiss her back like it’s second nature to you. you find so much peace and comfort in paige that you practically forget she’s only your friend.

you’re pulling away first with wide eyes and pinker lips. paige also seems to be snapping back to reality, immediately standing up and apologizing.

“shit- princess i’m so sorry. i just forgot-”

you cut her off; the awkwardness of the moment being close to unbearable, “it’s okay paige. i’m just gonna..”

“yeah, you should.. y’know.”

“yeah.. i’ll go get ready. you can um..”

“i’ll just go, yeah. i’ll see you later.”

“see ya.. i’ll, y’know, text you later.”

“sounds good.”

she leaves you to the silence of your apartment, the soft hum of the air conditioning suddenly seeming so deafening. paige’s voice buzzes in your ear as you stare at her spot on the couch. millions of emotions and revelations wash over you like holy water, and finally the stars seem to align for you. you finally have some semblance of understanding as to why.

you feel a tear trickle down your face, rolling over your cheek and eventually down your chin. you sit back down on the couch while more tears continue to fall, a choked sob escaping you before you even register how upset you really are.

you love paige. it was so hard to admit to yourself, guilt creeping in at the thought that maybe, in some way, bianca was right. it had been a long time since you loved bianca, always naturally gravitating towards paige more and you could see how that would hurt her. there was no physical cheating, but mentally you had always been with paige.

paige is the best you’ve ever had relationship-wise, but you can never have her. she’s this untouchable entity, one that could ruin your life if you let her. if you get with her, bianca was right and no one can deny it.

you think that maybe you put yourself and paige in this position on purpose subconsciously because this was the only way you felt like you could have her. maybe it was a form of further.

but now that your situation is actually live, it’s slapped in your face how fake it is. none of those feelings were real for her. it was all a game you two were playing.

maybe you were right. you couldn’t have her.

you wiped your tears away, pulling yourself off the couch and towards your room. you needed to escape into your own form of reality, one that wouldn’t come back to haunt you.

since you’ve finally been able to successfully admit your unrealistic and unrequited feelings for paige, you can begin to move on from them. maybe tonight you could find something to help you move on. or someone.

⍣ ೋ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊🀥·˚ ༘

GUYS I WILL SPELL CHECK THIS SOME OTHER TIME

why do i feel like this series makes zero sense

guys if you have genuine feedback pls lmk PLS

like is this even good anymore seriously.

[quarterlifecrisis-activated]

This line has haunted me for a while now. It was a line I overlooked but it still felt important. It’s not just about Zheng’s ship but piracy as a whole. Piracy in the show is a male dominated field run under toxic masculinity and pressures. Throughout season 1 the idea gets reinforced that piracy is just this way, and to survive and thrive you have to conform to its standards. Izzy and Calico Jack and even the Badminton twins have this firm idea of what piracy is and should be.

Let’s look at season 1 episode 1. Stede as captain and the Revenge as a whole is played as a joke pirate ship. We know that the crew is considered bottom of the barrel when it comes to what you would want for a bloodthirsty pirate horde. Throughout the season this is pointed out over and over again. Izzy says that they’re not real pirates and I agree. At least they’re not real pirates as set by the standard of piracy. The crew are kind, they do crafts and like to be read to. Pirates don’t have friends and they don’t make things they steal them. Pirates also don’t live long. Most of the pirates Ed knows are dead. Frankly, the only reason Ed, Izzy, Fang, and Ivan are probably still alive is because Blackbeard doesn’t actually have to do raids because everyone surrenders. I firmly believe that if Stede and the crew tried to be “real” pirates they would’ve all died. Stede is not a good pirate by the end of season 1. Honestly, I don’t really think he’s trying to be. He doesn’t actually want to be a pirate, I mean if you told that man that he’d be responsible for a pirate fleet he’d probably faint. By the end of season 1 you could make the argument that the way Stede runs his ship is not conducive to successful piracy. That is until you meet Zheng Yi Sao.

Needless to say that Zheng is the most successful pirate we’ve seen on the show. Her fleet is massive and she conquered China. She’s an amazing pirate and she also defies the standard for piracy set by season 1. Her crew of the Red Flag (much like the Revenge) have communal activities, good food, they’re open with each other. If being successful as a pirate means adhering to toxic ideals where you’re on your own and you have to stab each other in the back to survive, Zheng’s fleet should be like that. But it’s not. Because true success is not about if you can get the thing you want but how long you can hold onto it. The other way leads to death and mutiny because being individualistic means you cannot be loyal to anything but your own self interest. With how spread out Zheng’s fleet is it would be so easy for someone to mutiny and take some of her ships. We can see Zheng fosters a sense of camaraderie among her crew. Season 2 shows that the idea that piracy is mean and toxic because it has to be is wrong. I’m sure if they got a season 3 they’d further develop this point.

Notably, Zheng’s crew are mostly all women. Much like the Revenge, these crews are full of marginalized people. Historically, marginalized groups had to develop their own community because they were not getting support on their own. It’s also no surprise that the main advocates for the old way of piracy were white men. They were told that they could do whatever they wanted by themselves and that they didn’t need to rely on anyone. And that was true… until they couldn’t keep up and then they were chewed up and spit out. You don’t last long on your own.

That’s why Zheng is such a threat to Ricky. Not just because she has a large fleet but because she was organizing other pirates. One pirate can be stopped but all of them are too formidable. We see this in season 1 when Stede is about to be executed. Ed alone can’t stop it, even though he’s Blackbeard, but once the entire crew defends Stede things change. The system thrives on people standing alone because they’re easy to quash, but also who needs to worry about a jumpstart pirate captain because sooner or later they’ll be mutinied against. I think this is what Izzy comes to see throughout season 2 and informs his speech to Ricky. Maybe the real piracy was the collective action and community we made along the way.

Circling back to the quote that started this, men don’t fit in with Zheng’s crew because they were purposely fed the lie that reliance on each other and community building was weak and soft. They’d have to unpack the lie they’ve been fed their whole life. The crown and piracy are two sides of the same coin holding up the same status quo. But piracy is dying because it was never designed to last. The crew of the Revenge live against all odds because to them it’s not about piracy itself but community and family. And those ideas can’t be killed.

[gloryy-vs]

i LOOOVE your acc so much, so when i saw that you’re taking nsfw requests, i just knew you’ll be doing the requests’ justice 😮‍💨 that neteyam with a breeding kink one was wheeeew.

could i request a reader who grew up with neteyam her entire life, the both of them used to telling each other everything. but neteyam doesn’t know how to tell her about his first wet dream being about her, and now he just feels awkward when she’s near bcause it’s all he can think about. reader picks up on him distancing himself and follows him out one night, not knowing he was trying to find a quiet place to masturbate. reader keeps on prying him since she’s been annoyed at the fact that he’s been avoiding her and now he’s telling her to leave, so neteyam ends up bursting and just telling her the truth. idk, like change up the entire thing if you want, i honestly just want more neteyam content but in your writing 🫶 thank you!

||

u horny mfs.

yes. but what if we turned this into mutual masturbation

characters: 21 yr old neteyam x 20 year old na’vi!reader

rating: NSFW. masturbating, wet dreams, praising

a/n: just so we’re all on the same page. neteyam might be “ooc” because these are characters that aren’t showcased in a nsfw or horny way, so their kinks/sex life is up to interpretation. that’s why i have people send requests in. 🫶🏻

not proof read cus i’m lazy.

||

It was painful being near you, knowing what went through his mind everytime he saw you walk by, bend over or emerge from the crystal waters. Seeing you soaked from head to toe was insufferable for Neteyam. You could tell something was bother him, especially by how he didn’t hang around you as often as you two used to when you were much younger. Every time you’d come by to join the group you could feel the awkwardness radiating from the 8 foot man, and he’d shuffle away after making up some kind of excuse.

You two were almost never alone, her make sure of it, immediately walking in the opposite direction and cursing himself silently if he saw you try and get near him. His confidence and slight ego broke down whenever he was around you. You were quite frankly sick of it. During the clans hunting time, you eyed the male Na’vi , seeing him abandon his siblings to a farther area on the shore. While he walked off you excused yourself from your newly made Metkayina friends, following after your old friend.

Neteyam found himself alone for a bit, the memory of the wet dream he had of you flashing through his head. He leaned himself against the rock, palming at his hard on and picturing you, bent over in front of him teasingly, begging for his warmth. His fantasy was cut short with the sound of your voice coming closer. “Nete? You hear..?” He heard you call out, immediately yanking his hand away from himself and crossing his legs over while standing.

“Y-yeah. Here. What is it? What’s up?” He said quickly, trying to dismiss your presence. You noticed he couldn’t even look you in the eye. his face contorted in thought.

“What’s up with you? You never hang around me anymore..” You trailed off while your hand found a spot on his toned and muscular arm. He drew a sharp breath, raising his head while looking down at you. “Just gotta get some space. New environment I guess.” Neteyam tried to convince you, but you still felt off. You squeezed his arm reassuringly , causing him to lick his lower lip anxiously while avoiding your eyes again. He squinted them shut and struggled to look at you again. It was eating him alive.

“Are you sure? I mean, we’ve always done like, everything together. I’m here if you need me, whatever you need me for I can do it.” You said, trying to look at him muscled body and soft lips without making it obvious. The way he presented himself as nonchalant and almost rough had you entranced. Neteyam rolled his eyes impatiently, gripping your shoulders tightly. He lowered his head to level yours, staring into your eyes.

“I need you. It’s fucking eating at me looking at you right now as if I don’t dream of your body every night.” He shook you lightly, searching for the right words. “Everything about you just fucking draws me in, thinking about you bent over, underneath me, on top of me. Everything.” He said.

He let go of you, rubbing his face in his hands, visibly tensed up from how hard he still was. Seeing your eyes widen at each sentence he said, it drove him crazy how you didn’t even seem opposed, with your mouth hanging open slightly. You stood there, watching him fight a battle within himself. You’d be lying to him and yourself if you didn’t think of similar scenarios, except not as often as the male did. You leaned against the rock behind you, fingers hesitantly playing with the knots in your loincloth. Neteyam stared at you, his hands dropping from his face. Your eyes dropped from his to his waist, his hard on clearly visible behind the thin fabric. It only entice your more.

“I told you I’d help you, didn’t I? Let me help you, Nete.” You said, holding your chin up while letting your cloth drop to the sand by your feet. He looked so relieved, thankful you didn’t think of him as a pervert. Neteyam removed his own cloth, surprising you with his girth and length. A perfect mix of both. You eyed the clear liquid pooling at his tip, biting your lip at the sight. Taking your index and middle finger, you brought them to your blue lips, sucking them and covering them in your saliva before taking it down south. Rubbing your clit in soft circles, you lifted up your right foot to press against the rock behind you, showcasing all of yourself to him. Neteyam looked desperate, already pumping his cock slowly, matching the pace at which your fingers were moving.

Seeing his reaction to your body grew your confidence and so you slipped a single finger inside of your gummy walls, leg twitching in response. You couldn’t resist, and added in another digit to press against your g-spot as you fingered yourself, watching Neteyams pace quicken as well.

“Fuck, you look so beautiful.” He said softly, but his eyes appeared lustful, staring at how your fingers intricately pumped in and out of you. Neteyam gripped his cock, his hand easily pumping him from the amount of pre cum collected from before. He angled his head, eyes darting from his cock to your soaked cunt. He imagined stretching you out, hearing you small whimpers and gasps as he easily slipped inside of you. The thought was too much, and his hips bucked aggressively. Your hand started moving faster, bringing your left hand over to run fast circles against your hard clit. Your body was growing overstimulated, a peaking feeling growing in your stomach at each thrust.

“I wanna feel you Nete, I wanna feel you deep in me.” You said, head thrown back as you fought your bodies demands to stop before you bursted. His breaths became more vocal, the sound of his hand stroking his thick cock grew louder as well. “Cum for me baby, please. Let me see what that pussy can do. I cant wait to feel you wrap around this cock like the slut you are.” He grew hungrier for you, eyes staring intensely at how fast your fingers were moving inside your already swollen hole.

That’s what sent you over the edge, your fingers burying deep inside of you as you orgasmed all over your hand. You whined, grinding your clit against your hand to come down from the sudden climax. Releasing a string of moans, you saw Neteyam suck in air between his teeth, pumping himself as fast as he could before his own cum spurted out, some landing on the sand while the rest dripped down his hand from the tip. His hips bucked into his hand, all while he tried to catch his breath. His golden eyes raked over your body, eyes meeting yours. You seemed hungry and impatient, and he knew just from that. This was far from over.

[fxoye]

i'm honestly at a loss right now. like... what even is happening on the SNW star trek reddit thread?

i know i shouldn't be surprised at this point, but the level of pushback and dismissal when it comes to even the mere possibility of spock being queer is just... baffling.

like, i get that reddit has its share of toxicity and closed-mindedness, but for some reason i thought the star trek fandom would be a bit more evolved, you know? this is literally a franchise that has always been about inclusivity, diversity, and pushing social boundaries. and yet here we are, in 2024, still having to justify the basic idea that hey, maybe the character with a decades-long history of queer subtext and coding could, in fact, be queer.

it's just wild to me that this is even a debate. like, i'm sorry, but the idea of kirk and spock's relationship having homoerotic undertones is not some fringe tumblr headcanon - it has been acknowledged and explored by literal cast members, writers, and even gene roddenberry himself. the term "slash" in fanfiction comes from kirk/spock stories, for crying out loud. this is not new!

and yet we have people in that reddit thread acting like the mere suggestion of a queer spock is some sort of sacrilegious retcon that would ruin the character forever. as if spock's entire 50+ year history would be erased if he so much as looked at a man with anything other than heterosexual brotherhood.

it's just so frustrating and disheartening to see this level of knee-jerk dismissal and erasure, especially in a fandom that prides itself on being progressive and imaginative. like, we can envision a future with warp drives and aliens and literal magic space gods, but a queer vulcan is a bridge too far? okay then.

and the thing is, no one is even saying that spock is definitively, unquestionably gay, or that every single iteration of his character needs to be explicitly queer. all we're saying is that there is room for that interpretation, and that queer stories have just as much right to be told as any others. but apparently even that is too much for some folks.

it's a reminder that even in supposedly "enlightened" geeky spaces, homophobia and heteronormativity are still alive and well. and it's exhausting, honestly. as a queer trekkie, i'm just so tired of having to constantly justify my existence and fight for scraps of representation.

you know what, i'm gonna say it: the erasure and denial of spock's queer subtext, and specifically the spirk ship, is not just frustrating - it's straight up homophobic.

like, let's look at the facts here. kirk and spock's relationship has been coded as romantic and even erotic since literally the beginning of the franchise. the term "t'hy'la", which has been used to describe their bond, translates to "friend, brother, lover" in vulcan. that's not subtext, that's just... text.

and the evidence just keeps piling up from there. the way spock is the only person who can pull kirk out of his darkest moments, the way they constantly risk their lives and careers for each other, the "this simple feeling" speech in the motion picture... like, come on. even the kelvin timeline movies had scenes of them practically eye-fucking on the bridge.

and don't even get me started on the plethora of literary references that heavily code their relationship as queer. kirk and spock's dynamic has been compared to achilles and patroclus, gilgamesh and enkidu, alexander the great and hephaestion... all classic examples of homoerotic male partnerships. the iconic back-to-back pose from the episode "bread and circuses" is a direct visual reference to the novel "ishmael" by barbara hambly, which depicts a gay romance between two men. (as somebody pointed out; this is not accurate and since i was hazed asf (meds) when i wrote this, can’t remember what literary parallel i was actually trying to draw here. let me dig through my stash of gay literature history and i’ll address this 😭☝️).

these are not coincidences or fan delusions - they are deliberate, well-documented artistic choices layered into the very foundation of kirk and spock's relationship. and the fact that so many people are eager to ignore or downplay them in order to cling to a heteronormative fantasy of male friendship is honestly pretty telling.

and look, i get it. it's easy to claim "they were just best friends" because that's what we've been culturally conditioned to see as the default. but the reality is, intimate male relationships have been historically desexualized and stripped of romantic coding in order to maintain heterosexual norms. the achilles/patroclus model of male love used to be widely understood as having a romantic and even sexual element - it was only in the 19th and 20th centuries that it was aggressively reframed as "platonic friendship" in a textbook example of straightwashing.

so when people insist that kirk and spock's bond could never be anything other than a sexless bromance, they are literally upholding centuries of homophobic revisionism designed to erase queer love from our cultural narratives. and i'm sorry, but that's not something i can get behind as a queer fan.

you cannot look at the overwhelming evidence of kirk and spock's queer subtext, the decades of analysis exploring their relationship through a romantic lens, the undeniable impact and influence of queer interpretations on the very fabric of this fandom... and tell me with a straight face that it's all meaningless or invalid.

kirk/spock walked so that every other slash pairing could run. it is the ur-text of queer shipping in modern fandom. and while it may have started as subtext, it has long since transcended those limitations to become an integral part of star trek's cultural legacy.

but at the end of the day, i know that fandom will always be what we make of it. no amount of downvotes or closed-minded rhetoric can change the fact that queer interpretations of spock have been part of his story since day one, and will continue to be so long as there are lgbtq+ fans who see ourselves in him.

so to my fellow queer trekkies: keep boldly going, keep reading the subtext, keep telling our stories. they can call it illogical all they want - we know the truth. and as a wise vulcan once said: "there's no point in denying the facts of one's nature." 🖖🏳️‍🌈

[dreaisgrayte]

I JUST BINGE READ ALL OF YOUR WORKS. YOU HAVE ME SCREAMING AND CRYING. The amount of detail that you put into them is MWAH the freakin chefs kiss 😘 you have been promoted to my #1, please never stop what you're doing ❤️❤️❤️

on another note, would you mind if I requested a scenario with Gojo? Maybe something about fem!y/n being from a high ranking rival clan, who the Gojo clan has despised for their entire existence. Maybe y/n has always had a crush on satoru ever since they first saw each other as kids, but since they were raised to hate each other it never went any further than a small lil crush. but now they're adults and both powerful sorcerers, her feelings kind of just pop back up out of nowhere and satoru finds it amusing how even after all this time and the things that their clans told them about each other that she would still have her little puppy crush on him. Maybe it could be like a she fell first and he fell harder scenario? i'm a slut for those oh my gosh

thank you so much!!!!

That's so so so sweet of you! Honestly, got me giggling and kicking my feet. Careful, I will propose, istg. This... turned into a monster while writing it. I came up with a silly little plan and a silly little idea to incorporate into your request and then this monstrosity was born. If I wasn't told to stop... I might've never stopped writing on this. I L O V E D this idea. Friends to lovers/1 fell first then the other fell harder I EAT UP EVERY TIME. So, here's what my whore brain wrote <3 love you and I hope you enjoy!

warnings: NSFW, MDNI, Gojo harasses the women he's actually into (he forgets how to flirt so just ends up bullying them), teasing, flirting, kissing, cowgirl, missionary, raw sex, a lot of touching, feelings...so many feelings

word count: 6.1k

The Crave | Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

“Are you sure they’ll be there? I don’t want their son to look at our precious daughter.” Your mother holds you closely to her legs, clicking her tongue in annoyance when the maid nods her head. “Unbelievable. You hear that? Do they think they can parade that freak of nature around Japan? Well, they’ll have to see our daughter as well. She’s got the normal amount of eyes and isn’t staring at everyone with those ugly blue ones.” Her tone is harsh and for a six-year-old you, it’s hard to understand why she’s so angry. You also doubted that the young boy had six eyes.

Your father walks into the room, straightening his tie with a stern look on his features. “As long as they keep him away from her, everything will be fine.”

But as you were brought into the party, still close to your mother – you saw nothing but a boy with snow white hair and brilliant blue eyes. Sure the way he glared at you was slightly off-putting, but he was just a boy. He was alone in the room, but everyone seemed to be talking about him. Even your mother shamed him behind a gloved hand. 

Your heart aches. What did he do that warranted such disgust for simply being alive? The Gojo clan and your clan had been at odds since the very conception of both. They bred powerful sorcerors for fame, gain, and wealth. He was yet another product of selfish desire, born into a role and body he didn’t ask for. His life ahead would be filled with always the underline of being strong. Somehow; being uniquely gifted gave him the responsibility to be used like a tool. You knew your fate wasn’t far behind his.

Though, his eyes sparkled like he knew some deeply funny thing about the world. That – even though his destiny was surely to be used up by his clan – there were still things to be enjoyed in the world. It made your…stomach hurt. Both a swirling breeze of cool and a stifling wave of heat. Boiled and frozen, pumping whatever this feeling was straight into your tiny brain. 

That was the first time you ever saw Satoru Gojo, and you’d soon come to realize around the age of 10 that you had developed an infatuation with him. Children surrounded you, chattering about how you and Satoru were going to get married when you were older. Of course, you blushed and stayed quiet – which in hindsight wasn’t the best idea since the gaggle of children went screaming at Satoru about how you wanted to marry him. A less-than-ideal situation because those sapphire eyes tracked you down amongst the crowd and 10-year-old Satoru smirked. You were utterly done for.

Thinking back on the encounters you’d had with Satoru Gojo, you were glad your family hated him. It gave you an excuse to hide behind that fact because still – in your 20s – his face would appear in the back of your mind. You’d heard things about the miraculous powerful sorcerer he’d become from your boss at the special unit for special grade sorcerors. Your mother called you about 30 times just today to remind you Satoru wasn’t the strongest, you were. The Gojo clan was sneaky, they didn’t care about anyone else except for their gain. Your parents had raised you to be wary of anything the Gojo clan did, one misstep, and suddenly you’d be shipped off to the States. 

It was a mix inside your stomach. The Gojos were not to be trusted and you most definitely were not allowed to interact with their heir. So when your boss comes waltzing up to you with a wide smile on her face, you know that rule is about to be broken. “YN, I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Her laugh comes off rushed. Your boss knew about the tensions between the rivaling clans, working with special grade sorcerors required her to do so. Then why? Why the hell did she pass over a report with that stupid fucker’s face on it? “There’s a powerful curse roaming around Shibuya that needs the attention of,” she pauses, scrunching her face in thought. 

You sigh, the annoyance in your body pooling in your joints. “Two extremely powerful sorcerors?” You offer, the fakest smile known to mankind presenting itself on your lips.

Nevertheless, she lights up and hits her fist on the flat of her palm. “Exactly! See, this is why we have you on the team!” She exclaims with a little too much vigor for your taste. 

You watch her for a moment, noticing the way her long blue hair bounces around – almost like they were cheering you on as well. “Right…” You drag out the word, glancing at the file folder in your hand. “Why can’t Gojo handle it by himself then?” Her excitement seemingly drains from her face. You take note immediately. “Boss, how powerful is this damn thing?”

༘⋆✿

Meanwhile, Satoru had the same look on his face – annoyance. He understood having two special graders go on this mission would ultimately be the best option, but you? What sort of sick play of the fates was this? You were always so, he groans running a hand down his face, perfect. Your reputation, your battle tactics, hell even your coworkers thought you were the best. That’s insane. What kind of person even has all of their coworkers think the best of them?

He tosses your folder to the side of his desk, wanting to bang his forehead on the surface of the hardwood just to make sure he is seeing things clearly. The higher-ups were always comparing him to you, making sure he never fell behind in anything. Your clan was just a bunch of prissy stuck-up snobs… but then again… so was his. 

It’s useless, he was stuck going on this mission with you because no matter how powerful he was, he would never have power over himself. He reaches for your folder again, flipping it open. Along with the neverending list of your accolades and magnificent achievements, was a picture of you paperclipped to the stack of paper. A few beats of silence pass as Satoru stares at your face. 

After a few more minutes he grunts and shuts the folder again. He focuses on pulling the black cloth back over his eyes. The curse would be a piece of cake, especially with both of you on the mission. That’s not what he was worried about per se. The tricky part was how unbelievably pretty you had gotten to be and how there was a growing ache in the pit of his stomach. Fuck, this was going to be a shitshow. Then again, he couldn’t help but wonder – with a growing smirk on his face – if you still had that puppy dog crush on him.

༘⋆✿

“Yes, right this way ma’am.” A blonde man guides you toward Satoru’s office. He’s in an interesting outfit, not the usual sorcerer apparel. His tie is black and white forming an interesting pattern. His calm blue dress shirt is tucked into a pair of beige slacks. He’s very handsome and also looks very tired. Probably from dealing with all of Satoru’s bullshit if you had to guess. 

He stops in front of a door and you almost don’t catch how his body deflates quickly with a tiny sigh before he’s back to normal. “Before I go in, please just call me YN.” Your body moves on its own, planting a hand on his rather muscular shoulder. 

He attempts a smile, but it falters almost as soon as the corners of his mouth reach their peak. “Call me Nanami, Nanami Kento.” He extends a hand and you gratefully shake it. He seems nice. Then, he opens the door and leaning up against a desk is none other than Satoru. 

Satoru is in uniform and you’ll be damned, he looks too good in it. How can someone that lanky pull off a baggy uniform? His fluffy white hair spikes out in a messy ‘I woke up looking this good’ way. Your heart – against every inch of your being, is thumping wildly in your chest. You should’ve double-checked his file to conclude he doesn’t have six ears. What if he can hear how erratic your pulse is? His azure gaze is locked in on the man beside you. “Thank you, Nanami,” Satoru smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. You hear a grunt beside you and then Nanami starts walking down the hall. You watch him leave, wishing he could’ve stayed longer. You hear a loud cough from inside the room. Furrowing your brows you turn your gaze to Satoru, who looks irritated. “I thought you came to spend time with me YN, yet here you are not even paying any attention to me.” He complains, standing up. 

You press your lips into a thin line. “We’re not here for a playdate, we have business to do.” You reply with a lash of venom in your cool tone. Satoru glances off to the side with an airy laugh and smirk. What was he laughing about? You were growing more frustrated with every second. 

“Mmm, playdates remind me of when we were children.” He’s still looking off to the side like he’s watching a memory play out that only he can see. His gaze is back to you in an instant. “You had a crush on me, remember?” He cocks his head to the side, a teasing grin taking over his stupidly handsome face. 

Your body cools with a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance. Oh, so he wanted to bring up the past? You put on your best ‘fuck around a find out’ smile. “Yeah, but that was before puberty hit and I had standards.” You answer the tone of your voice higher and sweeter than before. Satoru raises his brows as an amused expression takes over his face. “Shall we get to business now?” You snap, which only makes him burst out laughing. 

Satoru is walking toward you now and the alarm bells in your head start flashing. “Hey, before that I have a question I’ve been dying to know.” He leans down, planting a hand on the wall next to your head to be level with you. You stiffen, growing uncomfortable. Not with Satoru being this close, but with how much your body seems to enjoy it. 

Your brows knit together and a frown tugs your face downward. “What?” You fume, jerking your head to emphasize the word. Satoru observes you, that feeling in his stomach clawing its way up. His gaze falls to your lips for the slightest of seconds. 

He swallows, the vexing emotion wanted to be near you, beside you, touching you, in you. How troublesome. The only way for Satoru to get rid of this feeling was to somehow annoy you to the extent you never came around him again. Granted – you didn’t anyway, but this exception had nearly driven him to the edge already. “When you were little, did you ever create an illusion of me? Did you hold his hand? Practice kissing him?” Satoru inquires, feeling full of himself. Your whole face drops. You must be in a different world because he did not just ask you that. A garbled scoff sounds from your throat as you gape at him, utterly dumbfounded. 

You try to process what the hell is going on by opening and closing your mouth, raising your hands then dropping them again, and blinking rapidly. “Oh my God,” are the first words that you say. They’re also the next few thousand words you say considering how many times you repeat the phrase. 

By this time Satoru has dropped his arm, regarding you with a rueful grin. He’s backed away a few paces and you finally point a finger at him. “You are disgusting. You mean nothing to me. You’re such an annoying,” You’re panting, anger rolling through you in cold and hot waves. “An annoying.” 

“What YN? An annoying what?” Your eyes are going to bulge out of your head. He’s smirking again! Smirking!

“An annoying fuckface!” You scream, throwing your hands out in pure frustration. You groan exasperatedly before storming out of his office. 

༘⋆✿

Had you really called him a fuckface? What did that even mean? Satoru is staring at the ceiling of his city-rise apartment, unbelievably shell-shocked from the events earlier today. He flips over on his side. It hadn’t gone exactly like he planned, although he didn’t put much planning into the whole thing. Tomorrow morning you’d both meet up at Shibuya station to track down the cursed spirit. He should probably apologize for acting like an idiot…he groans and flips back onto his back. 

Morning comes like a weight of bricks. You’re both standing awkwardly in the station. The people passing by must sense something because none of them even look your way. Satoru points to the stairs leading to the street level. “Uh, we could always patrol the rooftops…” He’s being so awkward. It was honestly a hit to his ego. Usually, the ladies ate up his tease em’ and leave em’ tactic. As he stares at you a blood-curdling scream echoes from the street above. Dust shakes off of the parts of the station as a loud explosion shakes the ground. 

You glance at Satoru and he nods his head, a knowing smile creeping up his face. Finally, some fighting to get his mind off of whatever asshole thing he’d manage to say to you next. As you both reach the street ahead you’re met with chaos. Cars are being flung by a large lizard entity, but it has eyes everywhere on its body. Satoru is about to gauge an attack but you burst out laughing next to him. His footing stutters, eyes widening as he takes in your genuine laugh. It’s… kind of majestic. You hug your stomach, doubling over in laughter as you extend your hand to point at the cursed spirit. “Looks like,” you snort out a giggle, “Looks like you have some competition for having the most eyes.” 

Gojo is immediately taken aback by your words. A woman runs screaming past you as you wipe a tear away from your eye. “Now let me show you a thing or two.” You sprint toward where rubble and wreckage cause obstacles. You make light work of climbing atop a sizeable pile of rebar and pavement. “Hey, lizard breath! Over here!” Jumping up and down, you wave your arms in the air. Did Satoru have to do anything? You seem to know what to do. 

He watches you with a small chuckle as the monstrosity turns its bulbous eyes toward you. In the blink of its mucusy eyes, your image doubles. Thousands of you spread across the street, then start attacking the main body. Satoru grins, jumping in to join. “Think you could have all the fun without me?!” He yells toward you. 

You’re surprised he could easily see which one of you was the real one. Though, you guess that’s what all those eyes were for. You were working off of one another – working with each other. If your clans could see you now. You’re both laughing and fighting like taking a walk in the park. Surprisingly Satoru can’t keep his eyes off you. He wasn’t sure if it was because he wanted to protect you or simply because as you fought alongside him you proved you didn’t need his protection. When you were with him you didn’t rely on him. No, you could handle yourself, which made Satoru crave your attention. He was the strongest…but with you by his side, his strength would finally be supported rather than taken for granted. 

It doesn’t take long to deal with the cursed spirit and for once Satoru is glad you’re required to come back as a team to fill out paperwork. That way he could get a little extra time with you. He smirks to himself as you finish up in Shibuya. 

He likes the look of you in his office, sitting on the couch in the corner with a small table in front of you. A laptop, a stack of papers, and a cup of tea are all somehow set on top of the small space. Your hair is falling in front of your face as you crouch over to type away the report. He was supposed to be working too, but he’d be damned if he broke his gaze now. “You ever going to stop looking at me and actually fill out some of those files Mr. Gojo?” You hum, still concentrating on the screen in front of you. Of course, you’d figure out he was gawking, it’s not like he was hiding it. 

Satoru clears his throat and glances away. “You can call me Satoru,” He pouts. When was the last time Satoru had requested a woman call him by his given name? Out of everyone else’s mouth, it was a simple endearment, but out of yours? That was something else entirely. 

You sigh, pausing in your efforts to finish the paperwork before dawn. You roll your lips into your mouth and tap your chin. “I think I much prefer fuckface.” You say, then smile sweetly. 

Satoru nods his head, pushing out of his seat. “Yeah? You want to call me fuckface or you want to fuck my face?” He banters. Your body tenses as you watch him sit on the edge of his desk. There's a pressure building in between your thighs that you can’t ignore. Your body feels like there are phantom touches caressing all of the places you yearned for Satoru to touch. 

You huff and turn away from him. “Back to this? Where’s your dignity, your charm, your manhood?” You ask. You jerk to the side, shaking your head. “No wait- that’s not exactly what I mean to say please don’t-”

Satoru is already laughing. “My manhood? Damn, you really must be thinking up all sorts of illusions in there, but,” he crosses the room, stopping in front of your table. He pushes the laptop shut with his fingertips. “The real thing is always going to be better darlin’.”

It suddenly seems very hard to swallow, so you let out an awkward laugh before gathering up your things. “Right, sure, I have to go.” You stumble over your words, rushing for the door. If you didn’t get out of this room right now you were sure bad things would happen. By bad things, you meant letting your guard down for a second around a man who was just flirting with you for the hell of it. You were a part of a rival clan, which meant he couldn’t have you. That also meant he wanted you more than the average woman. Of that, you could be certain, but you wouldn’t be some plaything Satoru could throw to the side once he’d had his fun. 

Behind you Satoru’s face had fallen, his chest rising and falling quickly as you scurry out of his office. Good, now that the real threat had been dealt with, he had some paperwork to finish. You’d be safer away from him, not wrapped up in his clan dealings and always having to live for others. For once, Satoru wanted to be truthfully selfish – sure he would go out, drink, party, enjoy one or two ladies, but in the end he was left with himself again. Satoru couldn’t save himself and he was scared that the only one powerful enough to pull him out of this desperate cry for help…was you.

༘⋆✿

A couple of months pass by without hide or tail of Satoru. Working alongside him was honestly…freeing. You weren’t held back by the possibility of someone weaker getting hurt. You groan, turning your face to the sky above you. It was gratifying being able to let loose with your own powers. Usually that many mimics will render you immobile, but you were able to spring into action right next to them. “Ma’am, a report from the Tokyo campus,” A file is passed in front of you. As you glance through the pages you turn to glance at your boss. 

She seems busy chatting away with one of the other sorcerers. You blow out a sigh and tuck the file under your arm. “Call them back and tell them I’ll be there within the hour.” You glance down at your sweats, wincing at the fact you wore such comfortable clothes to work. “Maybe make that 2.” You mutter, a disapproving scowl taking over your face. 

You ran home to change into a pair of running shoes, black leggings, and whatever shirt was on top of your dirty laundry. Unlike someone else, you couldn’t teleport, so public transportation was your only way to reach the Tokyo campus area. Walking up the stairs takes a little more effort than you’d like to admit, but when you reach the top you’re met with a shirtless Satoru Gojo and Nanami Kento training. Your jaw practically dislocates from your mouth as you gawk. They were gliding through the air and Nanami somehow had a more excited expression on his face than before. Of course, Satoru notices you first, but that allows Nanami to get a whack in. “Hey! That was foul play.” Satoru hisses, holding his cheek. 

Nanami shrugs, bending down to pick a towel off the ground. “Should’ve put your infinity back up.” He then glances at you and smiles. Your heart warms and a cheesy smile appears on your face. “Hey YN,” He waves and for a moment you’re awestruck by how handsome he is. The Lord was kind to these men. So…so very kind. Both of them were muscular, their abdomens shaped into ridges and divots. Biceps, triceps, everything went on in rippling splendor forever. You’d thought Satoru had maintained a scrawny figure, but you were certainly proved wrong and you were so glad you were. 

 “Hi there Nanami.” You walk over to him, picking up a stray water bottle on your way. You hand it to him but he shakes his head. 

“Thank you, but that’s actually his,” he juts his thumb toward Satoru and your face falls. You toss it toward the silver-haired man and he annoyingly catches it with ease. 

He glares at you, throwing his towel over his shoulder. “Yeah, thanks YN.” He grumbles. Nanami nods toward the school building. 

“If you let me wash up I can take you to Yaga’s office.” He’s back to smiling and honestly, you might have a thing for smiles. 

You latch your hands behind your back and giggle to yourself. “That would be really sweet of you Nanami.” Satoru snorts out a laugh on the other side of Nanami. You shoot him a glare. 

“Why are you callin’ Nanami by his first name but you don me fuckface?” Satoru shoots toward you, frustration twinging all of his happiness from the earlier training session. Nanami peers between you two, and then his brows shoot up with an airy laugh. 

“Oh my God you’re the one that called him fuckface? That’s so fucking funny.” Nanami laughs toward the sky, a soft sound coming from him. 

Satoru grumbles to himself, rolling his eyes like a frustrated child. “You are coming with me.” He growls, latching onto your wrist and pulling you toward the school. 

You stumble over your footing as he yanks you down the pathway. “S-Satoru w-wait oh my God!” You yell as you finally enter the building. He tosses you into the room you know to be his office. You falter backward, catching yourself on his desk. “What’s going on, what the fuck was that?” You hiss. He stalks toward you, throwing his towel onto the couch with a little more aggression than you’d like. 

He closes the distance between you, his nostrils flaring and eye twitching. “Oh so now you call me by name? Oh well, it’s too late for that now princess. You’ve pushed me far enough.” He laughs hotly moving between your legs. He’s massive and his skin is warm, you can feel the heat radiating off of him through your pants. He towers over you in an overwhelmingly torturously attractive way. 

It was hard to understand what was happening with the ringing of your heart covering all rational thought. “What are you saying? I’m not the one that made all those stupid jokes,” You mutter, looking away from him. He hisses, grabbing onto your chin and making your gaze settle back onto him. 

He laughs dryly as you blink questioningly at him. “Yeah? You had that stupid crush on me, that’s what caused this.” He spits, but you still can’t decipher what he’s trying to get at. 

Your lips part, letting out a small exasperated breath. “Listen, I didn’t mean to crush on you again, just old habits die hard I guess,” You explain, groaning as his grip tightens on your chin. His face looks tormented like some great plague has taken over his body.  

He scoffs, tossing your face to the side. You grunt with the impact, narrowing your eyes in annoyance. “Again? Haaa,” He covers his eyes with his hand, groaning softly. “You ran away from me then ignored me YN… how does that scream ‘I have a crush on you?’” The hand that was over his eyes drags down his face. You don’t have an explanation for him because you barely had one for yourself. “You must’ve sent one of your puppets to walk around the streets by my apartment, the campus, but the one thing I can’t figure out is how you got one of them to walk around in my head. I can’t see anyone except you and I’m going crazy.” His eyes are pained and his breath is labored. You finally understand. 

“Satoru…” You whisper his name with all the softness in the world, years of loving him building up into an insurmountable emotion. He turns away from you, covering his mouth this time. 

“Fuck YN, don’t say my name like that.” He hisses and you swear you can see playboy Satoru Gojo’s ears blaze a red color. “You weren’t even trying earlier, but you made me so jealous. Nanami was flirting with you right in front of me and I couldn’t do a damned thing about it. I wanted to both be Nanami and beat the shit out of him.” He slowly lets his gaze turn to you again. “I think I’m in love with you YN,” His voice is nervous, and his eyes are flittering all over your face, searching for answers. 

In love with you? Satoru Gojo was in love with…you? After all the years of your mother telling you to stay away from that boy. You were never supposed to be in this situation, especially not with the head of the Gojo clan. But you know what they say… actually, you didn’t really care about some emotional quote that would relate to this very moment because all you wanted to do – craved to do, was kiss Satoru until the sun set behind the Tori gate. 

“Our clans aren’t going to be very happy about this new development.” You chuckle and Satoru rolls his eyes. 

“That’s not an answer YN…” Okay, so he wants words. A confirmation? What exactly did you feel? Was it love? Was it something different? You didn’t have to know now, time would solidify whatever love is. All you can do is put a name to what you’re feeling.

You smile, a blossoming feeling thumping in your chest. “Yes Satoru, I love you.” You almost don’t get the words out because Satoru slips a hand into your hair and brings your mouths together in a passionate kiss. He kisses you like he’s been a starved man all his life, like he’s never wanted to kiss someone this badly. 

Satoru is obsessed with the way you gasp between kisses and how your eyes squeeze shut. “You can open your eyes, I’m the real thing.” He chuckles and brushes his thumb against your cheek soothingly. 

You weren’t afraid Satoru was one of your illusions, but rather how real this was in the first place. When you really want something you shouldn’t the whole world kind of falls away when you get that thing. When Satoru kisses you, it’s only him and that was terrifying for someone who constantly surrounded herself with things. You peek through your lashes at him anyway. “The same thing goes for me, I’m real.” You state lamely. 

Satoru blows out a chuckle, grinning mischievously. “Mmm, I’m not so sure about that, maybe you should show me.” His eyes darken and the sweltering heat you felt before nearly doubles in size and intensity.

You put your hand over the one he has on your cheek, lowering it until his fingertips brush against the swell of your chest. His brows shoot up and before he has much time to react you move it lower to the apex of your thighs. His breathing falters as he stares, eyes swimming with lust. “Come on Gojo, show me what a rival clan can really do.” The corners of your mouth lift in an enticing smirk. 

For all the time he was irritating and downright egotistical, Satoru is a good listener now. He pushes you into the desk, groaning when your fingernails dig into his shoulders. “You sure do drive a hard bargain.” His mouth tickles against your neck, kissing a trail down to your shoulder. He pauses, taking in a breath. “Mmm, you smell so good,” He mumbles against your shirt. You flush, embarrassment running hot through your veins. Did he like the smell of your dirty shirt? If you’d known the situation you’d be in right now, you would’ve put more thought into what you were wearing. 

He brings himself back up toward your face, planting a deep kiss on your lips. A selfish moan breaks through as Satoru works his lips against yours. “God, you’re so good at that.” You breathe out. A satisfied hum rumbles from his chest. 

You take in his chest, appreciating the view. This earns a chortle from Satoru. “You know, I’m starting to think you only like me when my shirt is off.” You lean into him, wrapping your legs around his waist. Your eyes widen when you realize there’s something hard pressing into your thigh. How you didn’t feel it until now is a mystery because that thing is one of the 7 wonders of the world. Satoru grunts, pulling you up and off the ledge of his desk. “Do you feel that? I think I finally understand what the elders were talking about. All I want to do with you right now is ram my cock into you until I have you writhing under me. Then finish fucking my cum into your cervix so you can mother my children. That way, your parents will have to like me and my clan, because you’ll be a Gojo.” He’s being serious right now, setting you down on the couch. 

You bite your lip curiously. “Do you plan on wedding me Satoru Gojo?” It’s a loaded question that he didn’t have to answer. It was a sweet moment and there you had to go asking a question like that. You don’t expect Satoru to sink onto one knee, take your hand, and place loving kisses on your knucks. 

He meets your gaze, electricity burning between the both of you. “May you wrap my heart around your finger one day and bear my burdens as I will bear yours.” What was even happening? Marriage? Surely this was one big dream, because years ago when you were both kids even imagining this day seemed like a far-off occurrence. This was all so sudden, but in all honesty, when have the two of you ever conformed to conventional standards? 

You were certain of one thing, you didn’t want your first time with Satoru Gojo to be on some dusty couch in the corner of his office. “Satoru… do you think we could continue…” You glance down, running your tongue over your lips. “This elsewhere?” His eyes glimmer, his mouth quirking up in a grin. 

He stands, still holding your hand. “I just basically proposed to you and all you can think about is getting in my pants. Man, rejection stings.” He tuts, shaking his head. You roll your eyes as you both laugh, a heavyweight finally being lifted. Yeah, this felt right. 

All at once you feel nauseated and dizzy. You squeeze your eyes shut, grasping onto Satoru like he was the only thing that could hold you up. “What the fuck was that?” You gasp, blinking your eyes open to find a completely different scene than when you closed them. 

Satoru caresses your cheeks, grounding you to him. “Sorry, I promise you’ll get used to it, well… maybe not, but still I’m sorry.” 

“Where are we?” You gasp, hands still clutching his arms as you peer around the living room you appear to be in. It feels less than lived in like someone staged the whole apartment – which is what you assumed Satoru had teleported you both into.

He scratches the back of his neck while nervously chuckling. “My apartment,” His gaze falls to you, taking in how perfect you look among his things. “Do you like it?” He asks with such a look in his eyes, similar to a puppy begging for attention.

You peek out the ground to ceiling-level windows, laughing to yourself. “I didn’t know teachers got paid so much.” Satoru grins, nodding toward the windows – or rather the city outside of them. 

“Oh you know, I got kind of a side hustle going on.” He shrugs, then turns to you, that mischievous twinkle back in his eyes. “You should see the bedroom.” He offers you his hand, jerking his head to a hallway. “I hear the owner hates it when the bed is made, the least we should do is go mess them up for him.” You take Satoru’s hand and let him lead you into the bedroom at the end of the hall. 

Once the door was shut behind you the playful comments were thrown aside – replaced by frantic kisses and undressing. Satoru sits on the foot of the bed, watching you in all your splendor. Your body was that of a dream, your breasts, the slope of your stomach, thighs, fuck everything about you was glorious. Satoru couldn’t remember how to breathe gazing upon you. “Like what you see?” You tease, positioning yourself over his lap. 

You brace yourself on his shoulders, settling onto your knees. Satoru blows out a choked noise. “Thank fuck I have so many eyes because I couldn’t imagine not being able to see all of you like this.” His hands are on you, running up your back, molding his long fingers into your squishy tits, and then down your side to dig his nails into your hips. “Are you okay with this?” He inquires, tilting his head. 

You smile, but a small part of you wants to line yourself up with his cock and bottom out. “I’m okay with so much more.” You breath. He understands, after all you both want the same thing right now – crave it. 

You both wait with bated breath as Satoru lets you guide him into your entrance. With all the teasing and edging closer and closer to this moment, you were far from dry. It was a little embarrassing how slick you were considering there was practically no foreplay. You hiss as his pretty cock sinks deeper into your throbbing cunt. “That’s it, that’s my good girl. You can take all of me,” His grip on your hips tightens, helping push you onto him. A strangled moan hisses out of your mouth as you slump onto Satoru’s shoulders. “Feels s’good baby. God, you’re so perfect.” He’s kissing your temple and you’re squeezing his cock with airy moans. After a moment, he bottoms out, a guttural groan rumbling from within him. “You did so good, fuck,” 

The air feels thick, heady, and fills with the wet sound of Satoru’s cock inside you. “Go-go ahead and move.” You order with a shaky breath. He starts to move, laying back to better fuck into you. You plant your hands on his abdomen, moaning loudly. His length hits every sensitive spot at once, causing you to tremble on top of him.

Satoru chuckles, then suddenly flips you both over. “Come on YN, I thought you’re one of the strongest sorcerers in Japan, you can handle me fucking you.” 

[junowritings]

Hii!! Would it be alright if i requested the companions of your choice (bg3) and Rolan reacting to meeting tav's older brother(or just sibling if youd like to keep it gender neutral!)? I had the image of him potentially running into them all in combat and just dashing in to help tav, everyone being so confused as to who the hell this guy is, only to find out their related. I think itd be even funnier if tav and their sibling were very different, or seeing tav with their sibling brought out a very different side than their used to. Maybe tavs very polite and awkward usually, but gets super playful and competitive (and maybe loses a few braincells) around their sibling. Tysm!! - 🍒

Thank you so much for the request cherry~! I honestly have a lot of fun imagining what it would be like if Tav had any family throughout the story so this was a neat write! I had to cut a couple characters bc this got to long but I do hope it was worth the wait~!

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Trouble seems to have a habit of finding this wayward band of travelers, or, more specifically Tav. Who knows what had caused it this time - tensions too high, the wrong thing pilfered from the wrong pocket, or maybe just the desire for some good old bloodshed. Swords are clashed and spells are thrown with abandon across the field of battle in a bid for coming out of this scuffle alive, commands and taunts lashed back and forth as easily as blades.

Somewhere in the midst of this chaos is their impromptu leader, doing who knows what to gods knows what. You’re grappling with your opponent, using the terrain to your advantage even as it muddies your shoes and rends holes in your armor that will need patching up later. This battle won’t last for much longer - with the entirety of your traveling party in roster you’re surprised that your opponents have even lasted this long considering the varied skill sets and questionable morals at their disposal. Still, that doesn’t mean you’re making it out unscathed. In fact, you’re mid-turn towards Shadowheart after a nasty jab to the back nearly has you tripping, the request for healing barely having left your mouth before it’s cut off with a shout…that’s not yours.

A new voice breaks through the cacophony of conflict, and there’s only a second to wonder the what’s and the why’s before someone else leaps headfirst into the fray with a shout loud enough to leave ears ringing. No one recognizes him, at least not from a glance, but he barrels into battle with all the grace of a bear as he all but slams body-first into the nearest enemy, sending them skidding through the dirt with a triumphant cry. The questions have to wait till later, burning as they are.

It’s only after the party sets about making themselves scarce from the last dregs of battle that all eyes are finally drawn back to this newcomer. Some with curiosity, intrigue; others with distrust and distaste for his sudden involvement - the question is the same on all fronts however - who is this?. Whoever he is, he seems unbothered, far more focused on pulling you to your feet. To everyone’s surprise he greets you like an old friend - a hand finding a way to your head mussing up your hair as you’re pulled into a crushing hug that has the pair of them almost tipping over back into the dirt. Laughter rings through the air as you swat at the offending hand, almost wrestling with the guy before the grip is finally relinquished and you pull yourself away.

You look…happy. Clearly you know this person, but who are they to you?

The question comes out curious, and the newcomer blinks as he turns to face your companions for the first time since his appearance.

“Who, me?” for a moment his head cocks to the side, as though the question has an obvious answer. Then he grins, an all too familiar smile stretching across his lips as he slings an arm over your shoulders, jabs a thumb in your direction and proudly declares-

“I’m their brother!”

Wyll

♡A sibling you say? The information shouldn’t be too surprising, Wyll reasons; you’re bound to have had a life somewhere in this world before the nautiloid crash, just as any of your wayward companions had. A life with family, friends and familiar faces that had been present in your day to day life before the mindflayers and tadpoles. To see a fragment of that life in person however? Wyll has to admit that he’s taken a little by surprise as he didn’t expect anyone related to you to make such a…memorable entrance. Not that you hadn’t, of course.

♡ You’ve been traveling together for long enough at this point that the two of you had begun to share tales. And yet the topic of family had never come up before, if only because Wyll wasn’t sure if you would appreciate someone prying into that subject. Gods knows his own relationship with his family was…tumultuous at best, and you haven’t actively tried to force information out of him he didn’t want to share, so he’d offered you the same courtesy.

♡ Now that he’s been introduced to your brother, Wyll's curiosity inevitably gets the better of him. He’s polite as he introduces himself to your sibling, making an approving comment about his battle prowess and good timing. In return he’s met with a bright smile that reminds him so much of you and a clap on his back as your sibling introduces himself properly in kind.

♡ Your sibling is quick to invite himself back to your camp, and while there’s grumbles from the others who seem arguably mixed about the whole arrangement, Wyll is all for the idea. It’s on the trek back to this evening’s campsite that Wyll notices how you practically brighten up around your sibling, a far cry from the reserved, quiet side of you he’s grown used to. How smiles that he’s so often seen strained or overly polite melt into something softer, livelier. Even bordering on snarky as he sees the pair of you throw about witty comments like its second nature, with playful jabs of elbows and the constant knock of shoes subtly trying to trip one another as you trail ahead.

♡ It’s a reminder of simpler times, and Wyll finds himself content at the sight of you finally letting your guard down. You’ve been on edge since the very first time he saw you at the grove, to see such a stark contrast to that moment with the way you smile and laugh now brings a hope that one day he’ll see more days of your happiness than of your grief.

♡After that meeting Wyll has no more reservations asking you more about your life and family back home - what you miss and what you’re looking forward to returning to once this is all over. Of course your brother gets involved, filling you in on everything that’s happened since you were taken by the Nautiloid and how things are back home. Home. With any luck, Wyll can help you and your brother get back there one day, minus two squirming cranial stowaways.

Shadowheart

♡ Shadowheart has a ‘oh gods there’s two of them’ moment from the second she watches you and your sibling grapple like a pair of children at the sight of one another. It doesn’t take much to fill in the gaps watching you actively cuss each other out in playful banter that would have had anyone other than close family or friends gearing up for a fight. She reasons that this person must be in the latter category, noting the similarities in your features and the similar lilt in your voices as you speak; and it’s all but confirmed once this brother of yours introduces himself.

♡ Whether you never brought them up because you felt no need or weren’t willing to share, she’s not going to exactly fault you for the decision. It’s not as though she can blame you when the majority of your relationship up until this point had been secrets, half-truths and blatant requests not to push her for more information than she’s been willing to give. 

♡ Still, it would be a lie to say that she wasn’t at least somewhat curious about your family. There comes the usual questions - who’s the oldest, what you did before this, where the two of you come from and the usual rigmarole. But Shadowheart occasionally comes in to probe at your brother's true intentions, the real questions she wants to ask. Had he come all the way out here to look for you? What had taken him so long? Surely if any other sibling had heard that their family was whisked away on a mindflayer vessel they would prepare for the worst? What are the chances that you just happened to run into your family here of all places? Thankfully by the time you all actually reach camp for the night she’s satisfied with the answers she gets enough to let your brother scarper away to catch up with you.

♡ She can’t say she didn’t expect that you were bolder than most initially thought. Sure you gave off an overly structured air tinged with an awkward demeanor, but she’s also seen that facade slip into something more coy and laid back. Shadowheart had seen it happen even more as you’d continued to bond, growing to trust the sharran and becoming more comfortable with each passing rest.

♡ But the way you interact with your brother? It’s a whole different side of you than what Shadowheart is used to seeing. She watches you brighten, grinning so hard it dimples your cheeks as you joke around with your reunited family member; and the sound of your laughter whizzes right past her tent as she watches you take off with your brother’s bed roll, tossing it to scratch and the owlbear cub with a triumphant ‘good luck getting it back!’ She notices that the mood at camp that night is significantly lighter than it’s been before that point as she comes to rest by her tent to give the camp a final once over.

♡ A memory tugs as she watches you, a distant thrum in the back of her mind as though ardent to remind her of something long since buried. It’s a nostalgic feeling - a feeling that Shadowheart can’t put a name to yet tries to chase anyway. But then comes the burn, the sharp pain of that incessant hole in her hand which flares up as though in retaliation to her pursuit. It stops her in her tracks, the familiar pain still twinging like a dwindling ember as she pushes the memory back down and rips her attention elsewhere.

Lae’zel

♡ Lae’zel can see the braincells being lost from here with every second that you spend around your sibling. Just about the only thing that stops her from turning her blade before the introductions is the fact that for whatever reason this person seemed inclined to actually aid your group, rather than joining in for the sake of adding to the carnage. Upon the revelation that this is your sibling of all things, Lae’zel’s gaze is sharp as she glances between the pair of you; an unspoken question as she focuses in on you - is he telling the truth? She’s trusting your judgment on this.

♡ It’s a foreign sight, watching you go from a bumbling, awkward reflection of yourself to someone so bold and loud. Whatever side of you this sibling of yours seems to bring out, it distracts you from everything else of importance in favor of catching up with someone who was so very sure they’d never see you again. It should frustrate her, considering just how vital this journey is even without the imminent threat of becoming illithid. But if it does you surprisingly don’t gain her ire from it; instead she allows you this moment of reprieve, moving into step within arms reach behind the pair of you the whole way back to camp.

♡ Despite the over theatrical entrance, she’s mildly impressed at your brother’s test of skill in the battle. Brutish, and with many exploitable holes should the enemy prove smart, but it was efficient enough to cut the tide of battle. She’ll tell him as such with no reservations, and you can see the cogs turning in his head as your brother tries to figure out if that was a genuine compliment or a backhanded dressdown of his tactics. His eyes dart to you for guidance but you offer no quarter, instead giving a grin watching him struggle to discern the answer for himself.

♡ You won’t have to worry about being prodded by questions from the Githyanki as you would some of the other companions at the camp. As things stand there are far more important things to focus on regarding the task ahead than exchanging pleasantries or reminiscing. With that being said, instead of retreating to her tent as everyone settles in back at camp, Lae’zel can be found sharpening her blade a little bit closer to the campfire not far from your side as your sibling regales your companions with stories and tales, both of shared memories and of things missed since you’ve been gone. 

♡ Saying this,once your sibling starts sharing embarrassing tales of your many fumbles you hear her pause to listen. It doesn’t take much to figure out that she’s paying attention specifically because of how you react, watching you practically squirm from embarrassment at the retelling as you whine that it’s nowhere near as bad as he makes them sound. Any attempts to silence your sibling get you a firm tug at your shoulder as she keeps you rooted to her side the rest of that night, giving your sibling the go ahead to continue - the tale was just beginning to become interesting.

Karlach

♡ Karlach sorely wishes that she could frame the face that you make as soon as you recognize that it’s your brother who’s come to your party’s ‘rescue’. Your whole expression lights up with an emotion she doesn’t think she’s seen in the past decade. Hope, relief - joy. You and your sibling just about crash into each other trying to hug, laughing replacing the sounds of fighting just moments ago.

♡ No sooner have you broken the hug Karlach comes forward to check out the newcomer for herself. Anyone you trust has got her full support too, so her welcome is all smiles as the tiefling joins the two of you as she introduces herself. If anyone’s going to make your brother feel welcomed into the party, Karlach is safe to say one of the very top of that list; she’s the life of the party and is willing to lend you her trust and companionship if you don’t do her wrong as you’ve learned firsthand.

♡ The moment you begin showing that side of yourself only your family is privy to, Karlach is here for it, and will actively encourage it. You’re louder, less awkward and more comfortable, and you can bet Karlach has never been more excited for that change. What she notices the most is how much lighter you seem to feel, no longer burdened by the gargantuan weight of ‘what ifs’ of what’s to come that have been plaguing you from the beginning - don’t think for a second she hasn’t noticed. 

♡ She doesn’t think she’s seen a shred of that stress or uncertainty since you’d reunited with your brother. Sure, it’s no doubt still stewing in the back of your mind along with the tadpole but seeing you let loose like she hasn’t seen before is a refreshing change of pace - like things could be really looking up from here.

♡ She wants to know how she can make you smile and act like that, and when there’s a lull in the conversation Karlach ducks in to ask your sibling exactly that. He gives her such a warm look as soon as she asks the question, as though her asking at all actually relieved him. The only answer she gets is a noncommittal shrug and reassurance that with time you’ll open up, joking that she may regret it once she sees the full brunt of how chaotic you can get. She doubts she’ll ever regret it, even as you goad him for hogging your companion’s attention and call for them to catch up.

♡Similar to Wyll, once Karlach’s seen your family for herself she’s absolutely brimming with questions about the both of you. This sparks the conversation of wanting to know more about your family, where you came from, what it’s like; it’s enough to make your head spin if you weren’t already fondly accustomed to the lively tiefling’s usual party banter. The three of you end up crowded around the fire back at camp that very evening, sharing stories over snacks you may or may not have ‘borrowed’ from the supply packs when Gale wasn’t looking.

♡ It’s a little bittersweet recalling old memories of better times when things weren’t such a tragic mess, but gods if it isn’t the best feeling on a night like this. The entire time she’s trying to commit every single moment of this night to memory, from the way the corners of your eyes crinkle when you crack up, or the way you scowl and none-too-subtly try and boot your brother when he tries to tell embarrassing stories he promised he wouldn’t. You’ve got a good family, one that’s worth fighting for. She just hopes that she’ll be here long enough to see you reunite with them proper when all of this is over.

Gale

♡ Gale sees the exact moment that you recognize who this impromptu guest is. Your face melts from confusion to surprise, before an overflow of emotions passes through your eyes and you meet your brother halfway just about knocking the two of you into the dirt in your joy. The wizard is more than happy to give you time to enjoy this reunion, and may or may not subtly step aside to avoid the splashback of mud kicked up watching the pair of you practically running circles around one another in the name of giving you space.

♡ Once things calm down enough for you to actually fill the party in on the identity of the newcomer, Gale’s surprised he didn’t notice before. There’s clear differences obviously, but seeing the two of you standing side by side as thick as thieves with those devilish grins to boot the resemblance is rather striking. He chalks it up to a detail easily missed in the throes of battle - picking out similarities between faces is an excellent way to get a blade between the ribs, and Gale’s got no such intentions of being on the receiving end of that literal jab.

♡ It’s rather entertaining watching you and your sibling interact, though you’re certainly a lot more playful and reckless than the wizard has ever seen you act before. Gale’s had no such siblings to relate the experience to, but even from just this small experience of watching how you act around him is enough of an indicator that you’re more than happy at the uncanny turn of events. 

♡ Just don’t expect the trek back to camp to be a quiet one, not that it ever is whenever you go out anywhere with Gale in the party. Gale is ever the man of questions. Too many of them actually as the three of you are still prattling by the time that your makeshift camp comes into view. Who could possibly blame him, when their usually awkward and reserved team leader has a never before disclosed sibling suddenly run right into them in what is essentially the middle of nowhere.

♡ Curiosity, as it often does, gets the better of the wizard who will quite happily waste the rest of the evening away grilling the pair of you for answers to the burning questions that he has regarding your background. If you’re willing to share, of course. Gale’s no stranger to verbally putting his foot in it if given half of the chance, but he’ll respect any refusals to queries you deem too personal for right now. If you are willing to share however get ready for what is essentially a combined sleepover outside Gale’s tent because he will keep all three of you up recounting tales until you quite literally fall asleep in your seats. When he complains in the morning for the back pains at having slept in such an awkward position, be sure to remind him that it’s what he signed up for.

♡ Gale for one is happy that you’ve been able to reunite with a family member in light of such dire circumstances. It’s not ideal when you have such heavy responsibilities on your shoulders, but hopefully having your sibling around will provide you some much needed comfort and support in a time where you arguably need it the most. And that support is more important now than ever, especially with the looming threat of everything that’s to come the second you step out of this temporary respite.

Astarion

♡ This is your sibling? Really? Is Astarion’s immediate thought, and the first words out of his mouth as he gives the sibling in question a cautionary once over with a raised brow. He’s not surprised, not really. Instead, he’s more puzzled. Of course far stranger things had happened over the course of this little escapade - infant eating hags, cult worshiping goblins and of course damned mindflayers, just to name a (admittedly impressive) few instances. 

♡But what are the actual chances that of all the people to come running to your aid in the wilderness, where the only thing for a mile in each direction is woods, beasts and death, just so happens to be your sibling of all people? For a second he wonders if you’d gotten in touch with your sibling yourself - maybe called them over for help in a spot of trouble. But then he catches the way you face brightens with surprise, damn near sinking the poor sod into the dirt with how hard you grapple back to return your brother’s hug. Either you’re a damned good actor, or you’re just as surprised as the rest of them.

♡ Similar to Shadowheart, Astarion is more than a little weary of the sudden appearance. But he will outright sidle up to you on the trek back when your sibling isn’t paying attention to warn you to keep an eye on that brother of yours. There’s all manner of creatures who can wear the faces of men as easily as the clothes on your back, you’re the best person to decide whether this guy is the real deal. All said with a smile of course, though his friendly advice is only met with an eyeroll of all things as you playfully rib him for being so worried.

♡ It’s bizarre really, watching you laugh and joke with your brother. That carefree attitude and playfulness shared with inside jokes and snarky back and forth is a new look for you, though Astarion’s certainly not going to quash it. It’s an entertaining change - makes things more fun even if he could do without the mildly sickening display of a healthy family dynamic. It’s not as though Astarion can exactly relate to it, even with his own ‘siblings’, they’d all spent the better part of two centuries relentlessly undermining one another in a bid for their master’s nonexistent mercy and a taste of freedom that wouldn’t come.

♡ You hadn’t brought anything up about your background at this point - sure, Astarion knew the basics and had been working to get you to open up enough to spill more of the juicy details. But the elf had been firm in toeing the boundary of coaxing information out of you while keeping his closely guarded; an admittedly difficult feat considering with your damned politeness you’d go out of your way to direct any questions received right back at him as a matter of courtesy. You hadn’t made prying easy for him, which is most likely why it has taken so long to get a glimpse at your background - he just didn’t expect it to be in the flesh. 

♡ So when he sees the chance to pry for more information, you can bet he’ll take full advantage of the opportunity. He’s halfway through a glass listening to your brother recounting stories when he lets slip that it’s such a shame you never mentioned the sibling before - to think he’s been missing out on these stories all this time. You know what he’s up to, but your sibling falls for it hook line and sinker, dramatically falling into your side and letting gravity do the rest of the work to make you suffer.

♡ The obvious theatrics of your brother bemoaning your negligence of his memory makes the elf snort into his glass, and your groan and attempts to shove the deadweight off is only doubled when Astarion further stirs the pot about how you’d not even breathed a word about your beloved family. Why, Astarion was beginning to fear the worst for you, how relieved he is to know you’ve got such a lovely family looking out for you.

Rolan

♡ The revelation comes as a surprise to the majority of the party, watching your brother proudly clapping a hand onto your shoulder as he reveals his identity to your new traveling companions. Admittedly, this is not where Rolan ever expected to be when he’d crossed paths with your merry band of misfits for the umpteenth time, and feels rather out of place. He thinks he might be the only one that this is news too, until a quick glance at the varying degrees of confusion and mild distrust reassure him that he’s definitely not the odd one out in this scenario.

♡ For a second Rolan is truly baffled. In all the times that you’ve interacted with one another, Rolan’s always seen you as painfully awkward, going out of your way to be nothing short of polite and well-mannered with varying degrees of success. He’d long grown used to it, coming to expect it by default with each and every encounter. So how is it that someone who appeared out of nowhere and seems to be such a polar opposite to everything he knows about you, be your sibling of all things?

♡ But then he recalls just how different he, Lia and Cal are and it suddenly makes a lot more sense.

♡The next thing he wonders is how you having any family at all never came up before? You’ve shared conversations before, with him less willing to indulge you on a couple of said occasions than others. Surely the topic has come up at least one time before, right?...right? 

♡ He’s never actually asked you, Rolan realizes with a startling clarity. In fact, in all the time you’ve spent traveling and running into one another, the thought of prying into your own backstory and getting overly involved in your history hadn’t really crossed his mind; at least, not enough that he’d blatantly ask without sufficient cause. He was just being polite, is what he tries to convince himself - it would be rude to go getting involved in others affairs like you’ve been doing since you’ve met him.

♡ And yet the realization nags more than it should, feeling a little guilty that of all the times you’ve gone out of your way to learn more about the wizard, he hasn’t thought to do the same for you. He especially feels it upon seeing just how differently you act around your brother; you’re louder, bolder, and aren’t afraid to look like a complete fool - had he ever seen you look that carefree before today? He hopes it’s not the last he sees of it.

♡ He’s neglected to learn more about you before, so he sets to learning now, with about as much tact as an owlbear in an antique shop. He feels too awkward outright asking you about it, so he settles for the next best thing and promptly falls in step with your brother. There’s nothing like sharing stories on the road after all - and given how earnestly the tiefling’s asking, your sibling caves and offers to give him the brief family rundown - if only for the funny stories that he’s been dying to share with anyone who even remotely knows you.

♡ The two of them bond, much to your surprise. About an hour or two into getting settled down at camp you go looking for them; only to find them sharing an already half empty bottle of spirits and shooting stories back and forth about all the wild and reckless shit their respective siblings have gotten into over the years. Rolan flashes you a grin and offers you to join them on the story telling - your brother has shared some dreadfully embarrassing tales and he’s dying to know if there’s any truth to them.

[applejongho]

hi jonghomies ❤️ it's with a weary heart that i'd like to announce that I'll be closing this account for gif making (not leaving completely, please read on 😅). I started gif making in 2021 and the support, love, community, and fun I've experienced since then has been totally unrivaled. But all good things come to an end, don't they? 🥲 I'll give you some reasons for this change as well as some other info.

why?

for a multitude of reasons, the main one being I'm not into ateez as much as I once was. I do love them a lot, but these past few months I've grown distant from them for no particular reason. That's just the ebb and flow of fandom, I guess. I don't have enough energy or spirit to maintain an entire fandom account for them like I once did. Another reason is that kpop in general has become more toxic (for me); having to delete twitter was really a wakeup call for realizing my feelings about the overall industry. A third smaller reason is that tumblr isn't rly what it used to be, especially in terms of gif makers. The community used to be so vibrant and fun. I know that me "retiring" won't help the situation but I alone can't "save" atinyblr nor should I have to "bear the weight" for the sake of keeping the giffing community alive.

what's next?

I don't plan on abandoning this account! I adore my mutuals and friends I've made along the way and I'd like to cherish them. I'll probably still even reblog ateez, honestly, but only when I want to. I'll likely just keep doing what I'm doing but the only difference is I'm detaching myself from the label of ateez gif maker and I'll redesign this account's look (pinned post, pfp, banner, url, etc) to be less ateez centered. Feel free to keep using my tracking tag for ateez content, though i my not rb it (just because idk how active i'll be).

will you ever gif for ateez again?

who knows! maybe a new cb will drag me back into the pits of hell (affectionate), but maybe not.

if you've gotten this far, thanks for reading. I know I didn't need to write a post for something like this, but I felt like I should've with all the genuine work and love I've poured into this community. Every interaction, ask, tag, whatever -- I appreciated all of them, and I truly adored being your apple lady. this isnt a goodbye, just a change of scenes. thanks for the memories and i love u all ❤️🫶

-- anne

[runninriot]

Love Me Til It Hurts

written for @steddiesongfics

song: Neon Noir by Ville Valo (2023) | rated: E | wc: 1.368 | cw: blood, blood drinking, blood kink (kind of), sexual content | tags: Monster!Eddie Munson, Monster Lover!Steve Harrington, Steve is a Freak, and Eddie loves him for it | also on ao3

Becoming a monster had always sounded kind of… intriguing.

The reality of it, however, sucked big time.

And maybe that’s just due to the circumstances of how it happened. Because nearly being eaten alive by demon bats in a place that resembles more hell than Hawkins (or- now that he thinks about it, maybe it just shows Hawkins’s true face because his hometown kind of always had been hell) and the fact that it fucking hurt to be transformed into the human-monster-abnormality that he is now.

So, yeah. Becoming a monster had been a literal nightmare.

Being one, on the other hand, is even crazier than he’d ever imagined it would be.

Sure, it was scary at first, to suddenly see the world in a different light. Literally. And to suddenly be able to hear sounds he’d never heard before. To smell and taste flavours he never even knew existed. But he soon learned to accept it, made peace with his new self and all the traits that come with it.

Being a monster is kind of fun, to be honest, and to feel superior in a way, to be stronger, taller, more powerful than he could ever have dreamed of being is just a bonus. A little cherry on top. Something that keeps him sane whenever the memories of their final fight against Vecna replay in his mind.

Because now, he’s able to protect his friends. To watch out for them. To make sure they’re safe.

And giving up part of his humanity for that is a prize he’d be willing to pay all over again.

That and the fact that being this new, better version of himself changed his life in ways he never thought would be possible.

He’s been living in the Harrington home ever since they brought him back, with Steve helping him discover and... explore all the changes he’s been going through.

And that had been a wild ride from the start.

Nothing and no one could’ve prepared Eddie for finding out just how much of a freak Steve Harrington would turn out to be.

Because he is. Oh God, he is. Maybe the biggest freak of them all.

Freaky in a way Eddie still has a hard time believing is not just some side effect from being bitten by the same gnarly creatures, or maybe from swallowing that bat’s blood when he ripped it apart with his teeth, looking all rough and grimy and too fucking sexy, bleeding and bare chested and-

Where was he?

Oh, yeah.

Whatever it is, however Eddie got so lucky – he cherishes every moment of it. Because ever since coming back wrong, everything in his life suddenly went right.

🩸🖤🩸

When Steve offered his blood to Eddie for the first time, he nearly lost it because- shit, that was better than any trip. No drug could ever compare to the effect Steve’s blood had on him, finally scratching that itch that had been driving him mad ever since his transformation.

But it didn’t stop there, no. What Eddie initially thought was just one of the endless self-sacrificing acts Steve is known for, turned out to be so much more. Because somehow, Steve found a liking in Eddie’s new form.

It took Eddie a while to figure it out. To understand why Steve suddenly always came so close. Always in his periphery at least, always touching when they were sitting next to each other. Always right there, waiting for Eddie’s next blood rush, too quick to offer his wrist or neck for Eddie to sink his teeth in.

Look, call him stupid or whatever, but how the hell could Eddie have known that fangs and wings would do it for Steve?

And he should have been offended, really, when Steve finally confessed. Because-

    Honestly, Steve? You’re telling me I had to literally die for you to finally notice me?

But let’s be real. Eddie would gladly let himself be turned into a fucking worm if it meant he could have Steve in return.

Yeah, that man’s definitely worth dying for.

If anyone asked him, he’d deny it but Eddie had a crush on Steve long before the world went to shit. But never – not even in his wildest dreams – did he dare to fantasize about a future where he’d know what Steve looks like underneath his stupid polos and illegally tight jeans.

And now he does.

Knows all the parts of him, even the hidden ones. Because Steve is a goddamn monster lover, in every sense of the word.

🩸🖤🩸

The first time Eddie realised Steve’s quiet whimpers were more than just a response to the pain of having the skin of his neck pierced by razor-sharp teeth, was a true revelation. He still remembers how embarrassed Steve had been when Eddie noticed the dark patch at the front of his sweats. He was still visibly half hard and Eddie – lost in the daze of drinking his blood – couldn’t stop staring.

He tried to apologise, tried to tell Steve that it was okay, that is was probably just his body’s reaction to being drained because that shit’s not normal, is it? But Steve just shook his head, took Eddie’s large, clawed hand and placed it right above the wet spot in the front of his pants.

Eddie nearly choked on his own tongue, overcome with a desire to take and claim, to touch Steve where his blood was pulsing hot and hard beneath the damp fabric.

He needed Steve in ways that should’ve scared them both but- did he mention that Steve’s a freak?

Because he didn’t even wait for permission, didn’t stop one second to consider how dangerous this was, or could’ve been, when he crawled into Eddie’s lap like a love-sick dog, whining and whimpering so sweetly against Eddie’s lips as he kissed him, deep and unafraid, uncaring of the bittersweet iron they could both taste when he pricked his greedy tongue on Eddie’s fangs.

It was fucked-up and dirty and so fucking frightening but Eddie couldn’t resist, couldn’t reject the offer when Steve was so ready to give him more than he ever dreamed of.

And it remains a dream, a wonderful fantasy each time it happens. Each time Steve gets this look in his eyes, full of want, full of unhinged desire to be taken apart. To be claimed by his monster, to be fucked and kissed and loved- God, Eddie loves him so much.

He worships him like a king – Eddie’s inferior to no one but Steve – and what he gets in return is more than just a taste of what his new form needs to thrive.

When his humanity takes a backseat while his monster self takes over, and the rioting rush of primal desire is clouding his senses, Steve’s touch is the only thing keeping him grounded. And it’s so much more than just sex. More than just two creatures giving in to their godless impulses to take and be taken.

It’s a beautiful mess very time Eddie leaves a trail of dark red love confessions on Steve’s skin just to kiss them better. And it feels like rebirth every time Steve comes with Eddie’s name on his lips, every time he falls to pieces in Eddie’s arms.

Every time they share each other’s blood and cum and spit, every time they crash and fall, sweat-drenched and breathless, it’s like Eddie is being transformed all over again, bathed in Steve’s light, graced by his lover’s mercy – really letting himself become the monster he is because his boyfriend likes him like that.

His boyfriend Steve, the freak. The one reason for Eddie’s stone-cold heart to keep beating.

Steve Harrington, the monster lover. His beautiful, insatiable boy, always so greedy for more.

   “I love you, Steve,” Eddie whispers as he lets his hand glide over naked, burning skin. Careful this time, not to break any more of it.

   “Love me, Eddie. Love me ‘til it hurts.”

Oh. But how could he not, when Steve demands it like that?

He’ll never get enough of it.

Because, yeah, being a monster is fun. But being Steve’s monster is everything.

[trumpkinhotboy]

I’ll keep an eye on you

pairing: jacob black x reader

type: not requested

genre: a bit spooky, but mostly fluffy and comforting vibes

warnings: mention of blood and being chased after (but nothing too intense)

word count: ~ 2K

requests: open! for twilight wolfpack, narnia and harry potter

a/n: honestly, i’m really excited about this fic. i think it’s very sweet and comforting :3 my brain is bubbling with so many ideas lately so expect new pieces from me in the close future hehe. also if you have any requests feel free to message me!!

i recommend listening to a Twilight Comfort playlist while reading this. Hope you enjoyy <33

part II part III

*gif is not mine!!

summary: After the reader survives an encounter with a vampire, they are still haunted by the memories of it. Luckily, they have a caring and protective friend who is always ready to ensure they feel safe and cared for, even in the middle of the night.

Wrong place, wrong time.

You squeeze your eyes shut, hoping to erase the terrible images invading your brain. For a week now, they have been omnipresent, taking up all the space in your mind. They are the center and focal point of your thoughts for days on end. As you open them again, your vision adjusts to the darkness just enough for your gaze to fall on a strange form crouched in the corner of your bedroom. You could swear it’s alive. Swear it’s stalking you.

You jump out of your bed to turn your nightlamp on. Your heart feels like it might spring out of your chest of its own accord. Your breath is short, and for a moment, you think you’ll never be able to take one that will actually get air in your system.

The menacing form in the corner turned out to be a pile of dirty clothes, but you knew that. Since that day, you feel irrational and paranoid. Everything feels like a threat, and you are now constantly looking over your shoulder, paying close attention to any suspicious sound or absence of it. You’ve talked about it with Harry Clearwater when you unexpectedly met at the Reservation one day. You did not hear him coming, and he had set his heavy hand on your shoulder to get your attention. Which resulted in a glass shattering scream for you and a bad fright for the poor man. As he invited you in for a calming cup of tea, you unloaded the weight on your shoulder to him. It felt good to talk about it, knowing you could never do so with your dad and your friends. He assured you that it unfortunately was a very normal reaction from your nervous system. You had faced the world's most dangerous predator and had survived it without a single scratch. Of course it would take some time for your traumatized brain to go back to normal. You could never take credit for the fact that you even had a chance to go back to normal, and would never attempt to do so. Knowing very well that without Paul, Jared, and Embry’s arrival, you would not have lived to talk about this encounter.

When you focus and let your mind drift off, you can live the event again, as if you were back in time. The paralyzing fear, the blood in your veins feeling like icy water. There was nothing to be done against a creature like that. You remember the horror you felt as everything became silent around you. You were headed to Emily's cabin, a simple, straightforward walk through the woods. The birds suddenly stopped singing, even the soft wind had died down. The forest knew it was in the presence of something truly horrible and had seemed to hold its breath, along with every creature. The color of its eyes was like in every legend you had been told; crimson red, like fresh blood. Not one ounce of humanity in those orbs, just a bottomless pit of cruelty and hunger. The worst thing was the pull you remember feeling for a split second toward that monster. You knew it was its sole purpose, but felt embarrassed you had fallen for it. Shivers crawled down your spine as you recalled its ethereal and hypnotizing appearance. It’s like you can hear again the faint swooshing sound it made as it sprang towards you. You remember sending out a quick prayer to literally any entity who would be listening right now, but the blow never came. Next thing you knew, three giant beasts tackled it to the ground, gnarling and dismembering it in a matter of seconds.

You open your eyes and shake your head to try and physically get those horrible memories outside of your skull. You lay back in bed, anxiously watching every corner of your room for some sign of danger. You left the light open, you knew there was no chance you could fall asleep without it. You tucked yourself back in bed and tried to calm your breathing. You tried every technique you knew, hoping sleep would grace you with its embrace, but nothing worked.

You look back at the clock after a while. 1:15 am. It was too late for you to get out of bed, and morning was still so far away. You had school the next day and knew that if you spent one more night without sleeping, you wouldn’t be able to explain to your teachers why you dozed off again in their class without them calling your father.

In a last effort, you tried thinking about reassuring and comforting things. Curiously enough, one kept coming back to mind. A giant wolf, its fur a multitude of shades of brown and red. Its eyes were sweet and reassuring, containing a particular warmth. You looked at your phone, hesitating, but remembered his voice: “If there’s absolutely anything, call me okay?”

And so you did.

Twenty minutes later, you got a text. You quietly walked to your window, glad to see Jacob’s familiar shape outside your house. He was standing next to a tree, representing for once a friendly and reassuring shadow in the night.

He spoke quietly. “Having trouble sleeping?”

You nodded, a bit ashamed to admit such an infantile fear. Although, deep inside, you knew there was nothing childish about being afraid of the monster you had been warned about as a child, once you had come face to face with it.

“Are you sure you want to do this? I'd totally understand if you'd rather not stay. I mean it's late and you need to sleep. I don't know what I was thinking…”

“Don't be ridiculous." he cut you off. "I’m already here. And once you’ve been asleep for a long time, I’ll go home and catch up on my beauty sleep, okay?”

You knew it wouldn’t take much convincing from him, there was no point in lying. You needed him. You needed the reassurance and sense of security he always brought you.

"If you're sure then… but Jake. You won't leave too soon uh?"

You heard his low chuckle in the distance.

“I promise.”

You slowly and quietly closed your window. The last thing you would want is for your father to wake up and see Jacob standing below your window. You looked back outside, only to see a giant russet wolf had replaced your tall friend. He was standing under the covers of the woods. Forks was a tranquil little city, but you could never be too careful. He gave you a quick nod, encouraging you to go back to bed. You sent him a little thumbs up before heading to your fort of blankets and pillows.

As stupid as it might have seemed, you did feel a thousand times better knowing that Jacob was right outside, watching over you like a guardian angel. To your surprise, sleep quickly came to you, and you fell into its black hole without any resistance.

//

You’re in a dark forest, running and running and running. You can’t breathe, your hands are bloody, everything hurts. All you can hear is an echoing, cold, cruel laugh. You trip over a root and fall. Something is rushing through the dark woods, coming at you. You get back up and run in the opposite direction, but it feels like you’re not getting any further, like you're running in place. You scream for help, calling out for Jacob, Paul, Embry, Jared, ANYONE, HELP ME. But no one answers, you’re alone, and you’re about to die a horrible death. You trip once more, your leg hurts like hell, there’s no point trying to get up again. You turn around to try and decipher who, what, is running after you. Suddenly, in the dark void of the night, all you can see is that horrifying pair of bloodthirsty eyes. You let out one last scream as it sinks its teeth into your skin. //

“Y/n, y/n, wake up! It’s okay I’m here, Y/n!”

You try to run out of bed but feel a strong pair of arms holding you back. The embrace is warm and smells familiar, but you’re not controlling your limbs anymore. Your whole body is in flight mode. Luckily, the thing (person?) holding you back is strong enough to withstand it, and even though you try as hard as you can to run away, your feet aren't even touching the ground anymore.

“Y/nn, Y/n, shhh. It’s okay, I’m here, it’s me. It’s Jacob.”

You focus on the reassuring tone of the voice and try to convince yourself you're not in the woods anymore. You can see your surroundings poorly illuminated by your little mushroom night light. You're in your room, you’re safe, you’re okay.

Your breathing is still fast and shallow. You blink a few times. Sometimes, the vision surrounding you is one of the cold woods. On other, it's the familiar vision of your room. You slowly turn to face your friend’s face. His brows are furrowed, and his traits have worry written on them in bold letters. He scans you, not quite letting go of your body. Too scared you might start screaming and running again.

“Jake?” “Yes, hi. Welcome back. You really scared me there Y/n.” “What- what are you doing in here? What happened?” Your tone is feeble, and you feel exhausted. You look around once more, afraid this might be some other kind of twisted and terrifying nightmare.

“Am I still dreaming?” You dare to ask. “No, you are awake. We’re in your room. You asked me to come to keep an eye on you, remember?”

You nod, still unsure. What if this was a dream inside a dream? What if the warm limbs of your friend suddenly turned ice cold? What if you looked at him and his eyes turned red, fangs slightly poking his lips?

He can see doubt dancing in your eyes. You don't trust him, or yourself. He holds up his palms towards you, trusting you won't bolt and run.

“See for yourself. I’m real, you can touch me.”

You reach a hesitating finger, carefully poking his own. Seems real enough, feels real. It's warm, the skin is wonderfully tanned, familiar. You’ve seen those hands at work a thousand times. You know them by heart. You poke his cheek, and he gives you a tender smile.

“Convinced?”

You nod once more, letting out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding, as your legs start to shake. That's the thing about dreams, isn’t it? Even if it’s only happening inside your head, your body reacts to it as if it were actually living it. You look at your hands, feeling reminiscent of the pain as if you did scorch them in the woods.

He interrupts your thoughts with a low and soft voice. “Come back in bed. I’ll tuck you in.”

He wraps your hands with his huge ones. They’re warm and feel incredibly good. You let him guide you back to your toasty blankets, but instead of leaving, he takes a spot next to you, shielding you from the window.

“What are you doing?” You ask with a timid voice. “I’m keeping an eye on you, dummy.” Your feet are poking from under the covers. You move to offer him a bit of coverage, but he declines. He is already hot enough as he is, although he can’t deny that his heart seemed to grow a size or two at the kind gesture.

You wait a minute before asking how he ended up in your room. You're not sure you want to know, but curiosity wins over embarrassment.

His expression darkens for a second before he starts talking. “I was just keeping guard outside when I heard a noise. You were calling for me… I didn’t even think, I just got in. You were twitching in your bed. I tried to calm you down, I didn't want it to wake up Charlie, but nothing would do. I was about to forcefully wake you, but you ran out of bed and woke up by yourself.”

“Oh.” You finally let after a few seconds of silence.

“Yup.”

Unconsciously, you're not sure, he took ahold of your hand and lightly played with your fingers. He finally lifted his gaze from your joined hands to look at you, all caring and reassuring. You slide in closer to him. All you want is to feel his comforting warmth and maybe offer him as much as you can too. You feel so bad for worrying him so much. He opens up his arms and cradles you in a bear hug. He won't say it out loud, but he's also in dire need of comfort.

You match your breathing to him, and for the first time in a little while, you’re not scared, not even a little bit. If only you could stay like this forever.

After a few minutes of silence, in which you almost fell asleep, you hear him whisper.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I should have been there. I should have protected you. I’m so sorry, you don't even know.”

“It’s not your fault Jake.” You mumble, and realize you're telling the truth. These are more than empty words. Never has it crossed your mind that this might have been his fault.

“It partially is, if I didn’t drag you into all this you might have been far away. Safe, away from monsters most people don't even know exist."

“I chose to follow you into this Jake. I would be lying if I said this wasn't one of the most horrifying experiences of my life, but it was not your fault. Please get that idea out of your head, okay? I’ll get over it. I guess I just need some time, as Harry said.”

You feel almost fully awake again. He nods, but you know you haven't convinced him. The look on his face is one of guilt, one you've come to know more and more since you learned about his secret. He mindlessly played with a feather poking out of your duvet, avoiding your gaze. Once again, you realized how mature he looked, while still being so young. Too young to carry such heavy burdens. You wanted to hammer the idea out of his thick skull, but you knew there was nothing to do about it tonight. Jacob felt responsible for what happened to you, and convincing him of the opposite would take some time.

Your eyes focused on his tanned skin, and you suddenly became hyper-aware that he was in your bed while only wearing his jeans short.

You inched away of him. “Uhm, want a shirt? I’m sorry, I didn't even think that, since you were in your wolf form, you uh… wouldn’t have one?” You let out an awkward laugh. You were used to seeing him like this, but it was different when you were both lying in bed together in a space that felt so intimate.

“That's nice of you Y/n, but I don't think I'd actually fit into one of your shirts.” He snickers as you get up. You're still wrapped in a blanket as you forage in the pile of clothes next to your bed. You get out of it with a dark cotton t-shirt in hand. It's humongous for you, but you know it will fit Jake like a glove. Probably because it is one of his own.

“There, dummy.” You hand him the t-shirt before jumping back in bed to wrap yourself properly, like a human burrito.

He looks at the piece of clothing and then at you for a good 10 seconds. “You still have this?”

He genuinely looks surprised, but his expression seems mixed with a hint of… satisfaction?

You nod, your nose and eyes being the only part of your anatomy still out of the blankets. You still remember the day he lent you that shirt when you had been caught in the rain at La Push. You never returned it to him, loving the way the gigantic piece of clothing felt on you.

He didn't add anything else before putting the shirt on. “It smells a lot like you.” He adds, a slight tremor in his voice.

“That might be because I wear it a lot to sleep.” You shamefully admit. Your words are nothing more than a whisper, but you know he didn’t have any trouble hearing them. You pull the covers even higher, trying to hide the blush creeping on your cheeks.

“Is that so?” He's smugly smirking. No doubt anymore that he is satisfied with that new piece of information, which makes you want to crawl even further under the covers.

You mutter a quick 'dumbass' before turning away from him. He chuckled before grabbing and pulling you on his broad chest like you weighted nothing more than a feather. You and Jake have always been comfortable with physical touch, but you feel like this is special. You have never done this before. Fine the circumstances were a bit peculiar, but that did not keep you from relishing in the warmth he diffused in waves. You didn't even bother to fake protest. This, is all you need, and you will not be foolish enough to ruin the moment. He wiggles even closer, and you can feel his chest come flush with your back through the layers of blankets. He rests his chin on the crown of your head before lightly stroking the side of his full cheek on your hair.

“Little human burrito.” He mutters. His voice is barely a whisper. Its husky tone makes you shiver. “I’ll watch over you, now go back to sleep.”

[alienoresimagines]

Honestly, Crank is such a mood and might just be my MOTA spirit animal

Exhibit A : He is just so done, all of the time it's so funny

1) "What I get a passenger?" Sassy Crank who then decided to sleep through the rest of the briefing because if he has Bucky the Yapper on his plane, he will need the extra sleep if they both want to make it alive to Algeria

2) Any sequence where he is flying and Bucky's behind him and/or asking for updates on Buck. The way he just... closes his eyes like he's praying a higher deity to take the Yapper of his plane before answering is so funny. I don't know if it's because of Bucky's poorly hidden attempt at making it look like he's not asking after Buck specifically by saying "the stagglers" and Crank realising exactly why Bucky "couldn't skip this one" or simply because he's just been through hell and the war wife that yapped his way on his plane won't stop asking is he's a war widow yet but it's funny. Reminds me of a parent who just wants some sleep but their kid keeps asking questions.

3) His "Oh that makes me feel better" when the mechanic tells him of the plane's condition ("won't go very far but you won't need it" because Münster isn't far and not because Crank gets shot down not 20 minutes later mind you). I know he was probably still angry and bitter after his altercation with Bucky and the fact that Crank does Not agree with the mission's order but I just love him. He reminds me of a cranky, wet kitten

Exhibit B : He is hella competent

Every pilot is good, that's a fact. There hasn't been much focus on the pilots except for the Buckies (even though we've never seen Bucky in the left seat except that one time he was smoking in it during his war widow era), Rosie and Curt (a bit of Brady and Blakely too) so there isn't much to say about Crank specifically. BUT when Bucky, lead pilot, goes down, Crank immediately takes the lead to avoid formation going into chaos like was the case during the Bremen mission ("There was a lot of confusion when lead (Buck and DeMarco) went down, it was chaos"). And don't forget that he flew through the Regensburg mission, which was absolute hell!

Exhibit C : He is Not Afraid to speak his mind or call people on their bs

1) Him being the one to ask Bucky how he managed to be put on the Regensburg mission while very clearly already having an idea, only confirmed by Bucky's vague answer

2) Famous moment but his confrontation with Bucky (and Brady) about the Münster mission. Nobody mentioned Buck to Bucky, except Ken, but no one really mentioned the fact that the Münster mission was a revenge mission. Everybody knew it but there was that fear that mentioning Buck would set Bucky off so nobody did. But Crank does, because Buck was also his friend and so is Bucky and neither of them would have approved or encouraged the mission if they'd been here/in their right mind.

Look at the devastation on his face when Bucky tells him that "it's a war and it won't end until they hit them where it hurts". That's the face of someone seeing a friend absolutely drowning in grief turning to revenge to cope.

So Crank says "None of the people we're going to bomb today shot down Buck" and he sees the look in Bucky's eyes and knows that he may have hit the bull's eye, but it was the wrong move. Only accentuated by the fact that Bucky then makes Crank call him "sir" something that he has never done before, clearly separating himself from his friends and Crank understands that this isn't really Bucky, at least not the one he knows. Buck may have been the only one to go down but the truth is, the 100th had already lost the two Buckies

Exhibit D : He loves his people soooo much

1) The hug he gives Dougie when the goblin fort crew comes back from the dead??? Just looking at that hug I could feel how warm and comforting it was. Crank is one of the best huggers of the 100th I bet. Also Dougie being taken aback at the force of the hug that he has to take a few steps back?? Can you imagine how good and relieved Crank must have felt after losing so many friends but, just this time, one crew came back and intel was wrong, they weren't dead!! They came back!!

See Gif below :

Look at his face when he goes to hug Dougie, he can't believe he gets to see them again 🥺

2) The grief on his face when he comes back from Bremen? Not having the words to say Buck went down because they all thought that no one bailed out and the entire crew was dead? He just shakes his head in defeat. All he can think about is that they lost Buck but someone will have to tell Bucky that he lost Buck. Look at his face and tell me he didn't know it'd destroy Bucky.

3) Him calling for Bucky at the fence when the latter arrived at the Stalag. The pure joy and relief on his face ("You made it!!!"), so overwhelming that he has to take his beanie off because he arrived at the Stalag and Bucky wasn't there and he didn't arrive even days after Crank. And if Crank arrived before Brady did, then he must have thought that the entire crew was dead because he saw them go down, even took the lead afterwards. But then Brady arrived, and Bucky wasn't there and that couldn't be because if Bucky's dead then the last time Crank had ever seen him it'd been in anger and for all Crank disagreed with the mission, Bucky's his friend. But then Bucky comes and Crank is so relieved because Bucky's alive and the Buckies are back together so everything will be fine and Crank's with his friends again.

In conclusion, I love my cranky but affectionate Crank from New England, he deserves more appreciation, thank you for coming to my ted talk.

P.s.: I haven't seen MOTA post ep 6 so this post might be edited if the last 3 episodes give me Crank content :)

[thebibliosphere]

Hi! How are you doing? Sorry to bother you, but i dont know many scottish people and idk who to talk to about this book I found on audible. It's called Imogène, by french author Charles Exbrayat. Do you know him /the book? I've started reading it but I had to pause because, while being sold as a "humorous spy story" I find the protagonist, a "very proudly scottish" woman, to be... an offensive caricature? Like she acts like a fool, honestly. This book contains some interesting points about sexism (it was published in 1959), and ridiculous british habits (such as employees forced to give money for princess anna's birthday or being socially scorned). I'm sure the shared dislike / distrust the protagonist and her british colleagues feel are (were?) realistic. But she is so extra, and the story keeps telling how lonely she is, even after working 20 years in london. She has No friends, most acquitances dont talk to her for various motivations, her bosses hates her ... idk I feel this book is actually mocking scottish people? Or scottish women??? I was SO there for a "strong woman protagonist who gives cutting remarks to her boss or peers", but this looks wrong. Idk. I didnt know whom ask for inputs. Maybe i'm reading too much into it. Feel free to ignore this mega rant. Have a good day!

I think cultural and historical context and time of publication-- which was almost 70 years ago --are important factors to take into consideration when we look at fiction through our current expectations.

I can’t speak to the book as I’ve never read it, but speaking as a Scots woman who worked for an English publishing house for a while, being made to feel alienated by my boss and others due to being Scottish was unfortunately still something going on in 2011.

I’d get lots of “Oh but you sound so eloquent” remarks regarding my thinned-out accent (something I did on purpose to avoid being told to “speak properly” which was also something I heard a lot in school if I ever used my native Scots language instead of “Queen’s English.”) and one time my boss referred to me as “their civilized Scot” to an American author, whose Scottish romance book I was supposed to be fixing the dialogue on.

The phrasing was along the lines of, “Don’t worry, you’ll be able to understand her. Joy is our civilized Scot.”

The author laughed and made another derogatory comment about how they just loved Scottish accents even if it was unintelligible a lot of the time. I kept my mouth shut because I didn't want to lose my first career job.

I kept my mouth shut a lot in that job.

In that regard I could very well empathize with the character being lonely and not engaging with anyone, even after 20 years.

The proud Scottish woman can be a bit of a caricature, but that doesn't necessarily mean it is intended as mocking.

Again, cultural/historical context matters.

I wasn’t alive in 1959, but I know there was a lot of Scottish media about the time that leaned into the stubbornness and pride of Scots women both for humor and to make societal commentary on the fact that women were strong and more independent than they’d ever been following two world two and a lot of men weren’t happy about it and wanted them to go back into their boxes. As a result the mouthy, proud Scots woman became a mockable caricature that turned women into shrill, over proud scolds.

Get back in your box or we’ll make fun of you, basically.

So is this book being mocking, or is it employing popular tropes of the time, knowing that audience will understand what it means and that the female protagonist is being subversive despite what others expect from her?

I can’t say. Again, haven’t read it. It could be utter dogshit and making total fun of my culture. But I do think when looking at older media we need to put our thinking caps on and think, “How would the audience of the time, 1959, have viewed and engaged with this?”

Expecting a “strong female protagonist” as we know it from media today isn’t going to work with media that’s almost 70 years old.

Hell, the “strong woman protagonist” wasn’t even something any piece of media could agree on when I was growing up in the 90s.

Times change. Literary tropes and preferences change. It helps to keep that in mind.

[clockwayswrites]

Like Beta Fish Do Part 21

wc 3874 Masterpost

“I’ve got nothing else to add,” Jason said as he turned from closing the door behind Danny. He refused to let his boyfriend miss any more classes because of him. He understood yesterday, but he was up and moving now and it wasn’t like Dick was going to leave any time soon.

Dick who obviously still had questions.

Questions Jason didn’t want to answer.

He wasn’t ready to tell his brother he was still dead.

“Jay…,” Dick sighed, setting the plate he’d just finished washing carefully on the towel where the others were drying. It was careful in a way that told Jason Dick had half wanted to throw the plate across the room. “You’ve got to understand… I didn’t look into Danny. No one has looked into Danny. I ignored my instincts and my training and just let you have this because you trusted me. And then I come into that…”

“I do trust you, Dickie,” Jason forced himself to say. It was easier to admit than it used to be. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Jaybird, you know I do,” Dick said as he crossed the room. He rested his hands on Jason’s cheeks, brushing his thumbs under those green tinted eyes. “But you scared me.”

“I get that. I’m not…” Jason huffed out a breath of air and let his head thud back against the door. Why did finding the right words still have to be so hard? “It’s not wrong that you were scared. I’m not trying to… this isn’t me invalidating that. But I’ve… haven’t I been happier, big bird?”

“You have,” Dick whispered his assurance.

“Then trust me,” Jason pleaded. “And trust that I trust Danny. I’m happier because of him. Not just… not just because I care about him. I promise, Dick, this isn’t my heart clouding my head. I was taking the ectoshots before my heart got involved, and they are helping. I feel… it’s so much easier now, Dick, so much easier just to feel.”

Dick slumped forward, his head rested against Jason’s chest. Jason let him, wrapping one heavy arm around Dick’s shoulder’s. He didn’t miss how his brother’s ear was pressed right over his heart.

“Will it go away? The Pit rage?” The question caught in a hitched breath, like Dick was afraid to ask it.

“Completely? I don’t know— we don’t know.” Jason said honestly. He had to swallow his own unsteady breath back. “I don’t think so. I think it’s too far burrowed into my bones to ever go away. I think it’s stained my soul. But I think… I think that a lot of the active parts of it are being washed away. I may always be stained by it, but I don’t have to live by it.”

Dick sighed. His shoulders slumped as he let himself lean almost boneless against Jason. “And he makes you want to live.”

“He does.”

“Alright, Jay, I’ll trust him. Because I want you to keep wanting.”

Jason dropped a kiss to the top of Dick's head, murmuring into his hair, “Thanks, big bird.”

-

“You’ve been quiet, Danny,” Sam suspiciously pointed out.

It was their monthly ‘is everyone still (mostly) alive’ video chat, as Tucker named it. Which normally Danny enjoyed; it was great to be able to check up with the others. It’s just that right then was really, really bad timing.

Because he did have things to tell and they were going to flip.

“He has been,” Val agreed, leaning forward. “What are you hiding?”

Danny rubbed at the back of his neck. “Well, um, I’m just getting ready to go to the Realms?”

“On ‘is everyone still, mostly, alive’ chat day? Dude!” Tucker said, clutching a dramatic hand to his chest. “How could you?”

“Oh come on— Sam and Val made plans first! We always had a hard cut off,” Danny defended himself.

“Oh excuse us for wanting to support our friends and go see the play they’re in,” Val said.

“I’m not— I’m not the one with the issue!”

“No— don’t let him get off topic,” Sam said, throwing her arm in front of Valerie. “He’s trying to distract us.”

Rude. It was true, but rude.

“Right, so um, Jason?” Danny started. He had gotten permission from Jason to tell them, but it was still a struggle to start.

“Your ‘friend’,” Sam said, with air quotes.

“Who could kill you with his thighs,” Val added.

“And who you won’t let me stalk,” Tucker sulked.

“Yes, him.” Danny rolled his eyes. He tried to not let the nerves get him and continued right into it. “So he’s, well, um, sorta a halfa?”

Danny practically lunged to turn down the volume on the call as everyone shouted at once.

“Everyone shut up!” Sam eventually yelled. “Danny, what the fuck do you mean he’s sorta a halfa?”

“I, um, well, I mean that he died and came back, but his ecto was a little messed up so he didn’t really form fully? Like, he felt like a ghost but he doesn’t— didn’t have a real core. We’re pretty sure it’s forming fully now, which is why we’re going to the Far Frozen to get him checked out.”

“Dude,” Tucker said.

Danny managed a crooked smile. “I know, right?”

“How?” Val stressed.

“I’ve been giving him ectoshots. Sorta like a transfusion? It’s jump starting things,” Danny said. “He had his third one just the other day.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell us,” Sam said, crossing her arms. “And he doesn’t want to kill you?”

“Look, it was his secret! I couldn’t just tell people—” Danny cut himself off at a knock on his door.

“Is that him?” Tucker asked, leaning forward. “Dude, bring him in!”

“Well will you look at the time! I guess Sam and Val have to get going!”

Sam scowled. “Danny, don’t you dare—”

“And he’s totally not trying to kill me!” Danny said loudly over her. “Since we’re, you know, dating. Bye guys! Have fun at the play!”

He hung up over their renewed shouting with a grin. That would come back to bite him, but he couldn’t regret it— not when it got him out of that conversation for now.

Danny’s smile fell into something uneasy as he opened the door. “Hey, come in.”

They had talked since that night, of course, but they hadn’t seen each other. Danny raked his eyes over Jason, as if just by looking he could tell how the other was doing.

“Hey fish, I’m alright. I’m healing well thanks to you,” Jason assured him.

Danny almost bristled. It was what he wanted to know, of course, but he didn’t want to be coddled. “Good, because we’re going into the Infinite Realms and they can be dangerous. So you’re going to stay close to my side and you’re going to listen to everything I say and we are going to see Frostbite to make sure you didn’t permanently injure your core getting stabbed as it was coming in! Because you were a reckless idiot and were out fighting crime while going through a transformation of your very being!”

“Are we talking about this now?”

“Don’t get cheeky—”

“I’m not,” Jason insisted. When Danny just scowled, Jason stepped forward. He cradled Danny’s face gently. “I’m not. I just want to make sure now is when you want to talk about this. I don’t want to push you.”

Danny swallowed around the lump of tension in his throat and gave a nod.

Jason let out a little breath. “I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry. You’re right, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been out like that while this was going on. I was just— you know the first time I got sick from the ectoshot? The family was bugging me for weeks about it. They were…” Jason paused as if turning the words around in his head. “They were worried, I guess— no, I get now, because I had missed a few patrols, because I never miss patrols. I’m used to going out there and doing what I need to do no matter what’s going on or what state I’m in. I’m used to not having anyone… no, I’m used to not relying on anyone because I feel like I can’t. Because the Pit lies. It makes it feel like… I’m used to feeling like I don’t have anyone. Even though I have my family and you… I’m still trying to get used to that idea without the Pit in the way. So you’re right, and I’m sorry.”

“You could have died,” Danny choked out.

“I know.”

Danny shook his head. “You could have died and would I have even known? Would Dick have thought to tell me? And even if he did what lie would he have given? I would have just felt you… you would have just been gone, Jason! You would have died and shattered apart and you would have been gone! And I never would have known how—”

Jason yanked Danny against him, holding him so tightly that it was almost hard for Danny to breathe.

He pressed in closer.

“I know, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

They stood there, clinging to each other, and Danny let himself fall apart a little— like he had been putting off since that night. Jason carded gentle fingers through Danny’s hair as Danny shook in his arms.

“Great. Now I’m crying,” Danny said with a pathetic sniffle when he felt worn out by his emotions.

“That’s okay,” Jason murmured.

“I didn’t mean to make this about me.”

“That’s okay too. You’re allowed to be upset, fish.”

“I’ll feel better once we get your core checked out,” Danny admitted, finally pulling back, wiping at his face.

“I’ll listen to everything you say,” Jason promised.

“You better,” Danny said, trying to sound firm. “First off, wear this.”

Danny shoved an absurdly thick coat at Jason, but he took it and put it on without comment. He really did seem like he was going to listen to Danny. Danny just tossed his own ectocase around his shoulders and let the white rings wash over him, transforming into Phantom.

He turned away from Jason, taking a moment to gather himself, before he ripped open a portal to the Realms.

-

“I know you told me yetis, but still,” Jason said with a motion at the village around him.

“Something to see, isn’t it?” Danny asked with a little grin. The smile was still a little shaky looking, but it was far better than how Danny had looked in his apartment.

Jason felt horrible for how he had worried Danny and Dick. He had been stupid, and it had been people he cared about that had paid for it. He would take any smiles that Danny could muster right then, even shaky ones.

“So how does it work, having a yeti as a doctor when you’re human?”

“I mean, I’m not right now, am I?” Danny said, motioning to his stark white hair. “I’m a ghost and all ghosts are just a core surrounded by an ectoplasmic form. That form can look like a human or a yeti or an evil plant with a chip on its shoulder—”

A what?

“—but, like, that’s just the appearance of the ectoplasm. With enough effort and will we can completely change that appearance, but most beings stick with something close to their living form, at least for those of us that were alive. Frostbite has explained that because the form we had as the living is basically imprinted on our core, so it’s the easiest and the most natural form for our ectoplasm to take. Minor changes like hair and clothing are easy, because we changed those all the time when alive, but bigger changes take more effort and a level of upkeep.

“You and I are a little unique as halfas. We’re in flux in a way that other ghosts aren’t. My from has pretty naturally aged up as my human half has, for example, though Frostbite thinks that I could still very easily revert back to the age I was when I died if I wanted too, since that’s part of the original imprint.”

Not for the first time, Jason couldn’t help but dread what his ghost form might be. If he was lucky, he’d simply change into an inverted Red Hood. But when has he been lucky like that? There was a far too certain part of Jason that knew he’d come back as he had been in the warehouse: a scared kid who had been murdered.

A Robin.

He didn’t know if he could stand to be back in that uniform.

Jason did his best to push the thought aside. If he worried about it, he’d just let it consume him. He didn’t want to be in that mindset— especially not when he was in an unknown place; not that Danny would let anything happen to him.

Besides, there was too much to look at to be lost in his own head.

“Frostbite!” Danny called out suddenly, rushing forward towards a large yeti with a crystal arm.

The yeti smiled. That was… a lot of teeth. “Great One!”

Great one?

“Are you unwell or simply here for a visit? How are you handling the lack of haunt? Come, we should look you over anyways.”

“Frostbite, I’m fine, really, but I want you to check over Jason. There was a little… incident,” Danny said. He turned to motion to Jason and waved him over. “Frostbite, this is Jason, the other halfa I’ve told you about. Jason, this is Frostbite, chief of this village and my physician.”

“It is an honor to meet another friend of the Great One,” the Chief said with a pleasant smile.

“Thanks,” Jason said, shooting Danny a look at the ‘great one’ title. Danny just rubbed at the back of his neck bashfully. “Danny’s told me how you both worked out the idea for the ecotshots for me. I appreciate the help.”

“Of course! I am always here to help a halfa with their health. There are so few of you, it is the least that I can do to offer my aid,” Frostbite said with a little half bow. “Come, we should head inside where we will have some privacy.”

“Thank you,” Jason said, aware that he was getting more than a few looks from the residents. He bundled a little deeper into his coat as they made their way inside to what was clearly a medical room, despite the wholly unusual architecture.

Frostbite motioned for Jason to take a seat on the medical bed. “Now, are you alright with King Phantom being in the room for your examination?”

“Yes,” Jason answered quickly, swallowing back the words that he’d much rather Danny be there than not. “He’s been involved so far anyways.”

“Very well,” Frostbite said and shut the door behind Danny. “There was an incident I am told?”

Jason gave a little nod. “Danny thinks it was my core coming in finally. But I was in the middle of a fight. I, ah… help protect my city. It threw me off and I got stabbed. It was a pretty bad wound.”

Danny scoffed. When Frostbite looked his way he crossed his arms with a scowl. “He could have died. I gave him an ectoshot, third one, but I’m still worried that getting hurt that badly when his core was properly forming hurt something.”

“Ah, well, we can certainly look into that, hum?” Frostbite pulled on something that seemed to be a stethoscope of some sort connected to a pitch tuner. He gestured with it for permission and Jason nodded. “What did your core feel like?”

“Burning,” Jason answered. “Is… that a bad thing?”

“Not if it is a core that is meant to burn,” the yeti said with a rumbling chuckle as he pressed the stethoscope to Jason’s chest. “Now, think a happy thought.”

“Really? What is this, Peter Pan?”

Danny covered a snort of laughter.

“Not a reference I know,” Frostbite admitted.

“They, ah, think happy thoughts to fly in the story,” Jason explained awkwardly.

“Well, as ghosts can fly and our cores are heavily responsive to our emotions, perhaps not a bad analogy,” Frostbite said. “Now, happy thoughts, please.”

Closing his eyes, Jason took a breath and let it out slowly as he grasped for something happy to think of. It was… easier than it used to be. Meals with the family, tea with Alfred, and Danny. Danny smiling in wonder in the planetarium. Danny whooping as he dashed through the waves. Dancing with Danny in the town square.

Kissing Danny.

“And there we are,” Frostbite murmured.

“How is it?” Danny asked anxiously.

“Shush.”

Now Jason felt anxious.

“Such worry,” Frostbite said as he pulled away with a chuckle. “The core is a bit quiet, perhaps, but it is still young. I do not hear any cracking or strange reverberations. The humming was strong for the age of the core. You have not transformed yet?”

“No,” Jason said, trying not to let that fear grip him about that.

Frostbit nodded. “It would be best to not yet do so. One more ectoshot at least before you try, perhaps two. There would be no harm in having another one soon to help with the growth.”

“Can you top us off?” Danny asked as he wiggled the case he’d brought at Frostbite.

“Of course, we will see to that before you leave. While you are here, Jason, would you wish to find out what type of core you have?”

“Yes, of course,” Jason said, both curious and wanting to make sure the burning was something he was supposed to feel.

“I will be right back then,” Frostbite said.

Once the yeti had left, Jason glanced over at Danny. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah. I’m glad it’s nothing, but I needed us to check, you know?”

“Hey, fish, I get it. I don’t mind having come. Who gets to say they’ve met yetis?”

“You will plenty, he’s your doctor now too,” Danny pointed out. “Oh, and I want you to take this ectocase and store it somewhere Dick can get to it if you’re hurt again, alright?”

“Sure, fish,” Jason said. He’d give Danny that little bit of security. “I’ll have it stored in the Cave and tell Dick about it.”

“Okay, good,” Danny said, letting out a tense breath.

“Hey, come here.”

When Danny stepped close, Jason tucked Danny to stand in between his lefts and gently cupped his face. “I’m going to do everything I can to be safe. I’m not going to go out on patrol right now. I’ll work with Dick to find an excuse until my core is solid. I’m sorry I scared you. I didn’t think about how this would affect everything else. But I promise you, I’m going to do everything I can to be safe now that I get it.”

“Sorry I’m worrying.”

“None of that, you’re allowed to worry,” Jason said, brushing his lips against Danny’s forehead. “Just also trust me to do my best. I just got you, I’m not going to leave you.”

“Okay,” Danny said with another measured breath. “I trust you, I do.”

“Ah, should I return in a moment?” Frostbite asked softly from the doorway.

“No, it’s fine,” Danny said, pulling back from Jason. “Really. I want to know what Jason’s core is also.”

Frostbite gave a little nod and opened the case he was carrying. In it, cradled in soft velvet, was a glass ball. Or, at least, what looked like a glass ball to Jason. It was slightly cool when Frostbite set it in Jason’s cupped hands.

“Now Jason, this will show us what your core is by projecting the appropriate imagery into the sphere. You must close your eyes and focus inside yourself. It may be harder for you in this form, but attempt to feel that burning again.”

Jason did as he was told, thinking back to the feeling on the night he was stabbed and the little flares of heat he had sensed since. He could feel it, just barely, as this heat inside his chest. It was this faint, churning ball of warmth sitting under his sternum.

“Oh,” Danny breathed. “That’s beautiful.”

“Yes,” Frostbite rumbled. “Stay focused, but you may open your eyes.”

Jason paused. He was almost afraid to know. This was the first real thing— the first proof that he was still half dead. But he had to face it.

He opened his eyes.

The sphere was glowing so brightly orange it was almost hard to look at. The light spilled through cracks and fissures of an ashen black surface that split and shifted and formed.

“…lava?”

“Lava,” Frostbite confirmed. “A powerful force. It can be destructive. It can spread across the land, decimating everything in front of it.”

Jason’s breath hitched. Of course he was a force of destruction and death. Of course he—

Frostbit’s large hands gently surrounded his, partially shielding the light from the sphere. “But it can also be creation. It can make whole new islands. And the earth left behind by a lava flow is incredibly rich— life blooms from it. It is a duality. Very fitting, I would think, for a halfa.”

The next breath shuddered through Jason, right to his center where that warmth sat. He swallowed heavily against the lump in his throat. “I… yeah.”

Frostbite carefully took the sphere from Jason’s hand, the lava flared once before it the sphere was clear again. Frostbite turned around to put it away, and Jason was pretty certain it was all so that he could have a moment to compose himself.

He didn’t even realize he was crying until Danny stepped close to wipe the tears away. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. I just…” Jason cleared his throat. “I guess it was just a lot suddenly, seeing that.”

“I meant what I said, it was beautiful,” Danny said.

Jason smiled. He was sure it was more than a little watery, but it was an honest smile. “Thank you.”

“Now, do you have any questions about your core?” Frostbite asked.

Jason took a moment to think about that. “I won’t… there’s no way for me to hurt Danny, is there? With him having an ice core.”

“No,” Frostbite said with another one of his chuckles. “In a normal situation, you would have an advantage in a fight, should you use your elemental powers, but King Phantom has a way of assuming the powers that he battles against. He has very few weaknesses in that manner. And you will be of no harm being simply near him. In fact, it may be a nice balance— he runs cold and you warm. If one was being poetic, one could say you are made for each other.”

“You’re talking like it’s fate.”

“With the Great One, it’s never wise to rule anything out,” Frostbite said with a chuckle. “Come now, let us see to getting you ecto and let you go on your way. I am sure it has been a long day.”

It really had; long, but not bad.

Not bad at all.

-----

AN: This chapter fought me with my poor health, but here we are! And we finally figure out what Jason's core is! I hope everyone likes the choice~

And things also continue to settle down a little. Though Danny is going to be hounded by his friends for sure!

Stay delightful, darlings!

I no longer tag people. You can instead subscribe to be notified at the masterpost!

[queenie-ofthe-void]

The Babysitter Chronicles - Henderson

steve harrington and dustin henderson || 1.8k words || CWs: none || 5+1 Steve asks for permission to babysit the kids, and one time he's asked in return; post season 2 AU

~~~

This has been the worst week of Steve’s life.

Not only does Nancy think he’s bullshit, he found out she never actually loved him, she cheated on him, and she partially blames him for Barb’s death.

He was almost eaten alive by alternate dimension monster demodogs, almost died at the hands of Billy fucking Hargrove, almost died in the backseat of Billy’s car, and then almost died again in the tunnels. 

He’s pretty sure he has a serious concussion and a broken nose. The stitches on his forehead are starting to itch. He’s had a migraine every day since, and there’s ringing in his ears.

Steve honestly thought he could put all of this Upside-Down shit behind him. Pack it away in a tiny box and move on. Yet he was dragged into it once again, forced to protect kids he barely knows from both monsters and humans. 

He deserves to get paid for this shit, to be honest. 

He’s got no friends to sit with at lunch, no girlfriend to love him, and no parents at home to take care of him.

After spending the week at home alone, wallowing and recovering, he found himself thinking of the kids. It was the first time he felt anything other than misery and physical pain. But they were big, complicated emotions that he’s still untangling. He’s been able to pick out fear and anxiety, annoyance, exasperation, and– surprisingly– fondness. When he thinks of the kids, he’s hit with a surge of fierce protectiveness and devotion.

He’s got nothing to show for his life and no one to spend it with. Those kids, though, needed him in a way he’s never felt before. It was life or death, and they trusted him to keep them safe. Now that it’s over, even If he isn’t necessarily wanted, maybe he could at least continue being useful.

Which is how he finds himself pulling up to the same curb as he did a week ago. At least this time he’s not here about the Upside-Down; although, knowing Dustin, he wouldn’t be surprised.

“Steve!” Dustin’s running out the front door and down the driveway in just a t-shirt and sweatpants despite the chilly November morning. He plows into his chest at full speed and almost sends them both toppling over. “Steve, holy shit you’re here! Oh shit your face.”

“Hey man, language ok?” Jesus, the mouth on this kid. “Relax twerp, ease up on the hug, you're killing my ribs.”

Dustin immediately drops his arms and backs away, looking cowed. Steve’s going to have to work on his approach, apparently the kid’s sensitive. Or maybe Steve’s still a bit of a bully, another part of himself that needs to be fixed.

“It’s ok, Dustin, don’t worry about it. Just a little sore still.”

He perks back up again, bouncing up and down on his heels. The little gremlin’s toothless smile is so damn cute Steve wants to give him a noogie. 

“Ok then,” Dustin replies, “so why are you here?”

“Uhhh, actually I’m here to talk to your mom.” Feeling suddenly awkward, Steve runs a nervous hand through his hair. He hisses as it pulls on his stitches.

“My mom?” he asks, incredulously. “Why? What’s going on?”

Steve supposes he should’ve thought of this. It makes more sense to talk with Dustin before actually asking his mom for permission, but he hadn’t practiced this part. Now here he is, facing down an over-dramatic middle schooler and he’s actually nervous about it.

“Yeah, I kind of noticed you’re an only child, and you don’t really have a dad around.”

Dustin’s face falls, morphing into a scowl. Shit, Steve’s barely said one word and he’s already messing this up.

“Not all of us have rich parents who buy us whatever they want,” the kid huffs, crossing his arms and kicking non-existent rocks.

“No wait, ok look I’m sorry Dustin, that’s not what I meant. I’m not really great at talking about stuff like this. The important stuff anyways. Let me try again. Please?”

The kid’s still scowling, but his body relaxes a bit and he nods.

“Ok I’ll start over,” Steve continues. “Even though we were dealing with all of the Upside-Down shit and it was literally the worst week of my entire life, I enjoyed having you around. I’d sleep better at night if I knew you twerps are safe and I know you don’t really have anyone around other than your mom and the other gremlins–”

“The Party.”

Steve stares at him, mouth hanging open as he’s cut off mid-sentence. He’s in the middle of pouring his heart out to this mouthy ten year old and he’s got the audacity to interrupt him.

“The what now?”

“The Party, Steve.” The little shit’s tone is overflowing with condescension. “The group. We’re called the Party. You know, like in DnD?”

“What the hell is a dandy?”

“You, kind of,” Dustin mutters under his breath. Steve doesn’t really know what that means and coming from this kid he probably doesn’t want to. “D and D stands for Dungeons and Dragons, Steve. It’s a role playing game.”

“Whoa, alright I think you’re a little too young to be playing role playing games.”

“I’ve literally been playing for three years.”

“You’ve been roleplaying since you were seven?”

“I’m thirteen Steve!” He’s pretty sure Dustin’s screeching can be heard from the other side of town. “What are we even talking about right now? Why are you here, at my home, looking for my mom?”

“I want to be your goddamned babysitter!” Steve screams back. He takes a deep breath– in and out. This kid’s going to be the death of him, he just knows it.

He looks down to find Dustin’s eyes wide and mouth formed in a perfect oval. The kid’s shocked, either from what Steve said or that he literally shouted it in his face. Now it’s Steve’s turn to kick rocks. He shuffles back and forth, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep them from tugging his hair again.

“You guys almost died, man,” Steve says softly, avoiding eye contact. It makes this part easier. “You almost died, and if I hadn’t been there, I have no idea what would’ve happened. Maybe you all would’ve been fine, I don’t know. But it was my job to keep you safe, and you don’t have anyone else around except your mom and the grem– I mean the Party– to look out for you. I had to quit basketball thanks to Billy, and Nancy broke up with me. My parents are literally never home, so I’ve got a lot of free time on my hands. Figure I could use some of that time keeping you out of trouble.”

Dustin’s face hasn’t changed, still devoid of any emotion other than shock. God damnit, Steve really messed this up. He looks around and rubs the back of his neck. His skin’s prickling with nerves as he starts to sweat and he takes a step backwards towards the safety of his car. 

This was a stupid idea. Why would any of these kids want anything to do with him? He’s nothing like them: smart, nerdy, can save the world without taking a beating. Steve thought he could be useful, worthwhile to someone– to Dustin. He should know better by now.

“Look, I’m sorry. I’m just going to go,” Steve says. But as he turns to leave, Dustin slams into him once more. Steve’s breath whooshes from his lungs and a lightning strike of pain travels up his back. He thinks he’s shaking from the pain, except his crewneck is starting to feel damp against the kid’s face and he can see Dustin’s shoulders practically vibrating. “Hey, Dustin. Hey it’s ok, are you alright? What’s wrong man, talk to me.”

Dustin doesn’t look up, just keeps his face buried in Steve’s sweatshirt and grips him tighter. It hurts and it aches and it pulls at all of his injuries. He still lets Dustin hold on for as long as he needs to. 

There’s a slight movement out of the corner of his good eye, and he glances up towards the house to see a small, curvy woman smiling at them through the window. Not wanting to dislodge Dustin, he slightly lifts his hand to wave. He’s surprised when she honest to God clutches her heart and wipes what he assumes is a tear from her eye.

Steve’s already worried he screwed this whole thing up. He definitely didn’t think it would happen in front of a goddamned audience. 

The kid’s still holding on, but the shaking has subsided and he’s breathing easier. Steve smashes his hat to ruffle his hair, and Dustin backs off with a shriek. His face is covered in red blotches matching his bloodshot eyes. Steve looks down at his sweatshirt to find a tears-snot-spit wet patch stained into his chest.

“Dude, gross,” Steve huffs. At least he’s wearing an undershirt. Dustin just chuckles. 

“Like friends?” Dustin asks, still wiping at his face. “I wouldn’t mind, you know, hanging out. Whenever you’re not busy, I mean.”

It’s Steve’s turn to feel a burn behind his eyes. Relief fills him with warmth as his growing anxiety is washed away. Dustin wants him around. He wants to spend time with him and Steve never really thought he’d get this far. All he had was a half-baked idea to serve himself up for the one thing he knows he’s good for. And he was wanted.

He reaches out and pulls the kid back in for a hug, holding him tight despite the pain. Dustin starts trying to push off, so Steve flips him around under his armpit in a headlock, rubbing his knuckles roughly into the top of Dustin’s hat as he starts to screech again. He huffs, straightening out his hat, still sporting that iconic toothless smile. 

“Now,” Steve says, “all I have to do is ask your mom.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Dustin replies, turning around to lead Steve towards the house. He sees the curtains pulled roughly shut and the silhouette of the woman heading toward the front door. “She already knows all about you. I told her what happened. Well, the government version.”

“You told your mom about me?” Steve asks in awe.

“Duh, why wouldn’t I? Sure, you got your ass handed to you, but it was totally awesome!”

“Right,” Steve scoffs. He’ll let that one slide for now. “You’re sure she won’t mind?”

“Mom’s going to love you. She’s been asking about you all week.”

If she’s anything like her son, then hopefully Steve’s got nothing to worry about. And maybe if he can watch one kid, he can talk to the rest of their parents– look after the whole Party of gremlins. He can host after school hangouts and movie nights, sleepovers in the living room and pool parties in the summer. There’s the beginnings a plan forming in his head, which parents and kids he needs to talk to next. 

When he’s met with Mrs. Henderson’s warm smile, he thinks maybe the rest of this year will be alright.

~~~

2. Mayfield (pt 1) || ao3