#he's both posh and feral

[nuhmarika]

I’m tickled orange by this Build a Beast prompt!

Thanks to @kellkyy for introducing me to it!! <3

#build a beast #October2022 #he's both posh and feral

[shadowtriovibes]

take my hand

Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x f!MC

Word Count: 3.8k

Rating: E

Warnings: 18+, aged-up characters, explicit sexual content, references to consensual sex between minors, loss of virginity, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PIV sex

Summary: Ominis lets you know he’s ready to go all the way with you, and you quickly realize he likes being told what to do (a.k.a. my “sub-inis” response fic to #dominis)

"That should work, right?" you murmur, stepping closer to him so you can unsubtly press your chest against his and drape your arms around his shoulders. "I know you’re clever, Ominis. I can tell you how to touch me, and you’ll do it?" "Yes," he breathes, quickly stealing a kiss and letting his hands shift all the way down to the curves of your ass. He’ll have to learn by touch, you think. Or maybe even by taste. You have absolutely no problem with that.

Ominis Gaunt is simply going to drive you mad.

For several happy, lovely months you've called the young man your classmates jokingly referred to as “Slytherin’s most eligible bachelor” your love. You’ve kissed his plush lips, memorized the sharp lines of his cheekbones with the tips of your fingers, and even draped your legs across his lap while you curled up together in a secluded corner of the Slytherin common room to study.

…Actually study, of course. Because, unfortunately, he’s kind of a tease.

In fact, the real reason he’d garnered his cheeky nickname? Not one of the girls in your year had gotten anywhere near Ominis’ bed, which, by your seventh year at Hogwarts, was admittedly uncommon.

Even when you started bringing him to the Room of Requirement for some additional privacy, hoping to tempt him into some of those intimacies you know he’s never experienced with anyone else, he’s been a perfect gentleman.

Sure, by now you’ve spent many wonderful nights tangled in the sheets with him, kissing him breathless and letting your hands roam as far as you can get away with. But Ominis wants to “take things slowly,” and you respect that.

(You’re slowly going feral over it, but you respect it.)

He takes you completely by surprise one evening when he tells you that he’s finally ready to go further with you. However, when you sit on the edge of your bed with him and ask him to clarify what that means, he balks.

“Whatever you’d like to do,” he insists, noncommittal. “I’m ready.”

“Ominis,” you say gently. “I do think we should talk about this, so we can both be comfortable.”

He bristles. “‘Both?’ You mean me.”

You bite your lip. It’s true that you are significantly more experienced than Ominis, though it’s not something you’ve talked about in great detail with him. You know that you’re his first everything, that he’d abstained from any sort of physical relationship with anyone thus far because he genuinely wanted to be in love with his partner.

You, however, had pretty much done the opposite after the residual trauma of your fifth year left you with a mindset of “you only live once.” You became more and more selective after you eventually realized that, while occasionally fun, meaningless sex didn’t make you feel better about what had happened. The only thing that did was talking about it with Ominis, which is one of several reasons you fell hopelessly in love with him.

“I mean us both,” you insist. “Just because I’ve had sex before doesn’t mean I want to rush into anything either. This is important. You are important, love.”

He softens a bit when you lace your fingers with his, tugging his hand into your lap.

“I just… I don’t know how to talk about this,” he forces out. “And not because I’m posh or repressed or anything like that, but simply because I fear I don’t know what I need to know.”

“What you need to know?” you ask curiously.

“Truthfully, most of what I’ve ever heard about sex is from the other seventh-years,” Ominis admits. “It’s not like I could have those kinds of conversations with my parents, what with the way they are. I suppose if there’s anyone I could have asked, it would be Sebastian.”

You wince a little and Ominis laughs softly, bumping his shoulder against yours.

“Don’t worry, I’m not intimidated by the two of you,” he murmurs.

You and Sebastian had been “friends with benefits” (as he’d delightedly called it) toward the end of your sixth year, and thank Merlin you’d been able to maintain your friendship after it had ended.

You wouldn’t dare assume just how much Ominis knows about that fiasco, but the real reason it ended was that the two of you were simply too alike in bed – both far too dominant. Every time you came together, it felt like a duel, which was quite fun at first but quickly became exhausting and left neither of you truly satisfied.

“Well, I suppose you could talk with Sebastian,” you agree. “He’s not, er – he’s knowledgeable enough.”

This time Ominis winces, and you pat his hand apologetically.

“You could also just ask me, you know,” you tell him. “We can talk about these things. What we like, what we don’t like, what we want to do together.”

Ominis shifts closer and presses his shoulder against yours, resting his head against the top of yours. “I know. I suppose it’s just… challenging to feel so ignorant.”

“Love,” you sigh. “You aren’t.”

“I am,” he insists ruefully. “But we can… try new things together, right?”

“Of course,” you tell him, dropping his hand so you can stand between his legs and cradle his chin in your hands to pull him in for a kiss. “As long as you’re sure you’re ready.”

“Very ready,” he murmurs, resting his hands on your waist and dragging them down to your hips, more adventurous than he usually allows himself to be.

“Besides, it’s not as if you know nothing,” you tease him. “I’m sure you know how to make yourself feel good, right?”

Ominis goes red and doesn’t offer an answer, but you don’t need one to know that you’re correct.

“I can show you how I make myself feel good.”

It only falls a little flat when Ominis pointedly asks, “‘Show’ me how?”

It’s only then that you realize Ominis had a fair reason to be nervous. He probably has much less familiarity with the female body than many of his Hogwarts classmates would have had, from studying nude forms in classical Muggle art to the risque illustrations and photographs his male counterparts pour over in secret.

He would have been excluded.

“Right, er…” you mumble, thinking on your feet. “Maybe I could… tell you what I like, and you could do it for me?”

“Do it for you?” he asks, and you blink surprisedly when you realize he doesn’t sound annoyed at all with being tasked with your pleasure.

Honestly, he sounds quite interested.

“That should work, right?” you murmur, stepping closer to him so you can unsubtly press your chest against his and drape your arms around his shoulders. “I know you’re clever, Ominis. I can tell you how to touch me, and you’ll do it?”

“Yes,” he breathes, quickly stealing a kiss and letting his hands shift all the way down to the curves of your ass.

He’ll have to learn by touch, you think. Or maybe even by taste.

You have absolutely no problem with that.

For a while you let him kiss you while his hands roam, letting him refamiliarize himself with the figure he already knows quite well beneath your uniform. Then, while his hands slip underneath your skirt to explore your bare thighs, you strip off your tie, dress shirt and brassiere. He undoubtedly hears the rustling of your clothes as you remove them, but he keeps his hands where they are until you reach down and grab his wrists.

Ominis exhales softly when you press his hands to your breasts, and you hum happily when his fingers flex against your skin.

“Touch me,” you tell him softly. “Not my clothes.”

“You’re beautiful,” he says softly. “You feel… you’re so soft.”

You giggle and arch your back into his hands, and when he drags his thumbs across your nipples, you lean down and press your forehead to his.

“Not too soft,” you counter.

“Can I… may I use my mouth on you?” Ominis asks hesitantly.

Merlin.

You’ve observed that your love certainly has an oral fixation. You suppose it could have to do with his blindness, but it could simply be a part of him like anything else. Ominis has been known to suck on quills for hours while he studies – the sugar quills from Honeydukes and, regrettably, regular ones as well – which has occasionally been distracting to some of your classmates who are driven to less-than-pure thoughts while watching him redden his mouth.

“Yes, use your mouth,” you breathe, tipping your head back when he brings his lips to your skin.

He doesn’t just immediately suck at you like some of your past partners have done in a rush. He kisses you all over – the curves of your breasts, across your collarbones, down to your navel and back up again. He’s learning you, and it’s making your head spin.

“Let’s move on,” you slur after a while, nearly dizzy from how good you feel with your skirt still on.

“May I?” Ominis asks, reaching behind you for the clasp of your skirt.

You assent and he deftly unclasps it, letting your skirt drop to the floor and leaving you in just your undergarments. But before he can tug them down – and he does try – you pause him by grabbing his wrists once more.

“I am nearly naked, and you’re fully dressed,” you remind him. “Seems unfair, love.”

“Fine,” he says with a bright laugh, leaning back onto his elbows to let you tug his tie loose and pull it over his head. You unbutton his shirt deliberately slowly, treating yourself to each new inch of bare skin you reveal as you work your way down.

When you reach the bottom, you can tell he’s quite ready for you by the state of his trousers, and you deduce those need to go as well. His breath hitches when you unbutton and unzip them for him, coaxing him into lifting his hips for you to tug them down.

After that, you both hurriedly tug off your undergarments and toss them… somewhere, to be sure.

He looks like sin sitting before you, completely nude with his long cock hard in his lap.

“Are you going to show me now?” he asks hopefully, his fingers twitching nervously at his sides.

“Mmm, soon,” you murmur. “I think I want you to show me something first.”

“You – you want to see…?” Ominis asks, his eyebrows raised. “But you know what men like, how we…”

“I know how men get themselves off, yes,” you say, finishing the sentence he lets die on his tongue. “I don’t care about what men like. I want to see what you like.”

“I can’t imagine I’m that unique,” he retorts.

“Then show me because I want to watch,” you challenge, gently pushing on his shoulders so he’ll scoot back and let you straddle his thighs. “I’m asking so nicely, Ominis.”

He exhales shakily and rests his hands on your bare hips. “Well, I usually… I usually have something to – Merlin, I have a salve, so it’s not dry.”

“Let me take care of it,” you purr, lifting one of his hands to your mouth and licking across his palm. He nearly chokes, but he lets you wet his hand for him and wrap it around his cock.

“Touch yourself,” you murmur. “Tell me what you think about when you get yourself off.”

“You,” he says quickly. “It’s always you, kissing you, touching you.”

You watch hungrily as he starts to stroke himself, observing the way he drags his thumb across his sensitive head and squeezes firmly at the base.

“Touching me how?” you encourage him.

“I… like this, touching your breasts, your bare skin,” he whispers. His other hand trails from your waist down to the crease of your hip. “Here too.”

“Do it then,” you whine. “Touch me, feel me.”

Finally, with his free hand he reaches between your thighs, tracing two fingertips along your folds. You’re already wet, and he groans softly before cursing under his breath.

“Let me show you,” you whisper, wrapping your fingers around his wrist to guide his hand.

You shift his hand up until his fingertips are pressed to your clit. “This is one of my favorite places to touch when I’m alone,” you tell him, nosing along his cheek. “Just touching here can get me off, actually.”

“R-really?” he breathes. “But what about… inside?”

“Inside, hm?” you croon. “Seems like you aren’t as ignorant as you let me believe.”

Ominis blushes a little and ducks his head, but he quickly tips his sightless gaze back up to you when you trace his fingertips along your slit to your entrance.

“Here,” you breathe. “If you want to go inside, it’s just here.”

“Can I?

“One finger first,” you tell him, and he’s perfectly gentle as he presses his long middle finger into your body.

You press your lips against his cheekbone and murmur, “Tell me how I feel, Ominis.”

“Warm. Wet, so wet,” he groans. His hand on his cock has gone completely still, forgotten in favor of exploring you with his other hand. “And – tight.”

It’s then that you have a brilliant idea.

“What if I let you use your mouth on me here?” you keen when he drags his thumb across your clit with his finger still inside you. “Would you like that?”

“I can do that?” Ominis asks. “You would want me to?”

“If you’re comfortable,” you tell him, gently running your fingers through his hair to loosen it a little from his daily coiffe. “I’d like to try it with you.”

Stunned, he nods and gently pulls out of you so that you can join him on the bed and lie on your back. Carefully, you drape one leg and then the other over his shoulders as he kneels between the apex of your thighs. You cross your ankles behind his back to coax him closer and onto his elbows, his face inches from where you most want him.

“What, er… how should I…” he asks.

“It’s instinct, love,” you croon, leaning back on your elbows and watching as he leans in a bit more, transfixed by how close he is to you. “I couldn’t possibly tell you, I’ve never done it myself.”

“Has anyone ever…?” he asks suggestively, one of his hands wrapping around your thigh.

“Ever what?” you tease him, utterly in love with the way it makes him blush harder.

“Has anyone else ever used their mouth on you?” he asks more firmly, nuzzling his temple against your inner thigh.

“Mmm, no,” you murmur.

He smirks to himself. “So I suppose I needn’t be worried about being compared.”

“Ominis,” you sigh. “I need you to do something, anything. Just try, I promise I’ll tell you if it’s working or not.”

“Please, tell me,” he requests. “I might not… It’s harder to be sure that I’m doing it right, if you’re quiet.”

“Somehow, I don’t think that will be a problem,” you reply cheekily.

Without another word, Ominis leans in and presses his tongue to your skin, licking you open with broad, curious strokes of his tongue while he learns the taste and feel of you. You quickly lose your breath as he explores your drenched core.

You gasp sharply when he presses his tongue against your clit, and he quickly asks, “How does that feel?”

“Amazing,” you breathe. “That’s good, Ominis, right there, keep going.”

Ominis simply lights up after receiving your praise, and it makes your heart race adoringly to see how much he loves this – loves you.

He becomes more and more assured as he presses his tongue against your clit, and even without his sight, he couldn’t possibly miss how your legs tremble helplessly when he moans into your body, the vibrations sending you closer and closer to your climax.

He experiments with pressing his tongue inside you as well, and it feels nice, of course it does. But it’s just not as nice as when he’s paying attention to your clit, so without thinking, you reach down and tug on his blond hair to direct his mouth back to where you want it.

This time, when Ominis moans against your clit, it’s not for your benefit.

“Did you like that?” you ask knowingly, twisting your fingers deeper into his hair. Usually it’s so perfectly coiffed, but you imagine by the time you’re through with him, it might look more like Sebastian’s does after Quidditch practice.

“Yes,” he admits, his voice nearly a whine.

“Good. Make me come and you can tell me how else you’d like me to touch you.”

Desperate to finish you off, Ominis first wraps both hands around your thighs and positively buries his face between them, his tongue flicking over and over against your clit. Then he pulls one hand back and presses the tips of two fingers against your entrance.

“Inside?” he asks quickly.

“Yes,” you grit out. “I’m so close Ominis, don’t stop.”

Obediently, he presses his long, thin fingers inside you and curls them how you tell him to, and you only last another minute under his focused ministrations before you come hard, both hands now tangled in his hair to hold him in place until you’re too sensitive to take anymore.

When you finally push his face away, Ominis looks drunk. His mouth and chin are soaked from your release, his pale skin is burning red and his hair is a wild mess.

“So…” he murmurs, dragging a thumb across his lower lip and briefly sucking it clean. “How was that?”

“Don’t be daft,” you laugh deliriously, still staring up at the ceiling. “You’re a natural, Ominis, you get an Outstanding from me.”

He smiles and rests one of his hands on your bare hip, trailing the other up your waist to your neck so he can lean down and kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

However, despite how formal his countenance often is, he’s still a young man – and not a very patient one.

“I believe you said something about touching me now?” he murmurs, kissing down your chin to your neck and gently nipping at your pulse point.

“Mmm, yes, I do think you deserve a turn,” you agree.

You reach down to wrap your hand around his cock and slowly stroke him, earning a choked-off moan and a much less gentle bite against your neck.

“Which would you like, Ominis? My hand, my mouth, or my cunt?”

Ominis curses under his breath – you can tell he likes it when you’re vulgar, despite how often he chides Sebastian for using similar language around their other mates.

He zones out for a moment, considering, so you stroke him harder to bring his focus back to you. “Tell me, love.”

“Your – your body, I want… I want to be inside you,” he admits. “But I don’t think I’m going to last very long.”

“That’s alright,” you reassure him. “It’s only your first time, we’ll have many more times to practice.”

He whines softly and presses a kiss over the bruise he’s worked into the skin below your jawline. “Many more?”

“Focus,” you tease him. “Let’s enjoy this time first, alright? Are you ready?”

You drop your hand from his cock so he can sit back and line himself up against you, and you think that this must be where some amount of instinct kicks in because the juts of his hip bones line up perfectly with the insides of your thighs without so much as a guiding hand from you.

“Good, Ominis,” you breathe, and his cock jumps, its wet tip tapping against his stomach.

He takes himself in hand and presses the head of his cock against your entrance, tracing a line from your hole to your clit and back to learn just where to press in, and then he starts to sheath himself within you.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans, and you beam delightedly – you’ve never heard him talk like that before.

“That’s it, keep going,” you encourage him. “I can take all of you.”

He’s quite long, but he takes his time with you, slowly pressing in until his hips are flush with your thighs and his arms are trembling slightly as he holds himself above you.

“Am I hurting you?” he asks, restraint clear in both his voice and the tense line of his jaw.

You cup your hand against the side of his face and murmur, “Not at all, you feel wonderful.”

“Can I move?” he pleads, and you breathe your yes against his lips.

Even without the muscle memory of a more experienced man, Ominis is a fast learner. He quickly sets a rhythm that has you dragging your hands down his chest and demanding more, harder, faster.

Your heart can barely take it when he simply meets your demands without a word, his hair falling into his eyes as he fucks you like it’s a gift to be inside you.

“I want to make you come again,” he confesses, leaning down to kiss you wherever he can put his mouth on you – your jaw, your shoulder, your lips. “Can I?”

“Yes,” you breathe, because your first orgasm had left you so sensitive you’re sure you can come again before Ominis finishes.

In fact, you think if you asked him, he’d make himself wait for you.

You slide a hand down your body and start to touch yourself, rubbing your clit the way you know you like when you need a release. You want to be quick – you want him to learn how it feels when you come around his cock.

“Close,” he grunts, his hands fisting in the sheets beside you. “Love, please…”

“Don’t you dare,” you hiss, leaning up to nip at his lower lip. “Let me come first, Ominis, I promise it’s worth waiting for.”

“I can’t,” he whines, but you know he can – you can see how he’s straining to hold back, his stomach taut and his arms tense beside your head.

“Just a little more, love, and – ah!” you gasp, because when he sits back just a little – as if trying to physically pull back from falling over the edge – his cock presses against a spot inside you that’s just enough to make you see stars.

It’s barely seconds after you come that Ominis groans helplessly and spills inside you, his thrusts coming to a halt when he feels you become impossibly tighter around him.

You stroke your hands lazily up and down his back while he catches his breath, mercifully not dropping his full weight onto you in favor of gently rolling to the side, hooking your leg over his hip.

“What’s the verdict, then?” you ask him softly, tracing your fingertips along his jawline and smiling at the blissful look on his face.

“We’re doing that again, quite literally as soon as I can,” he pants, and you can’t help but laugh brightly and bury your face against his chest.

“How charming!” you tease him. “That’s it, hm? Have I finally made a monster of you?”

“Without a doubt,” he agrees, pressing his nose to your hair.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #my fic #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis x mc #ominis x reader #i know we love dominis but LISTEN #por que no los dos i merely offer an alternative #this is beta'd but nobody's perfect xoxo #experimenting with not using an image bc what would i POSSIBLY put so please don't let this flop

[our-death-means-flag]

izzy hands x reader with enemies to lovers. that’s it. that’s the ask. im so in love w that angy little man

Bonding Under Duress

Ship: Izzy Hands x Reader  Summary: Stede really wants the crew to get along or at the very least tolerate each other. Unfortunately that includes you and Izzy. So the two of you get sent on an errand for the captains with the actual goal of the two of you getting to know each other. A storm has other plans and you and Izzy learn much more than you wanted to about each other… Warnings: minor descriptions of injury, Izzy being very mean to himself, angst, hurt/comfort

“Absolutely fockin’ not!”

“As much as I hate to agree with that asshole, no.”

For once you and Izzy agreed on something, both of you glaring at each other when you realized.

Stede wilted. You immediately felt the urge to comfort him. “Captain, I’m not trying to question your judgment here, but really, no. There’s no need for this.” You reassured.

Izzy scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Fockin’ ridiculous…” He grumbled under his breath. “I don’t take orders from you, you posh twat.” He snapped at Stede.

You immediately shot him a deathly glare. “God, you're predictable. Get some new material or just shut the fuck up.” 

“Hey now, both of you. I’m not asking.” Stede puffed his chest out a tad. “It’s an order from your captain. I’m not expecting you two to become best friends or anything. All you need to do is go on that island and bring back some peaches! Shouldn't take more than a couple of hours and who knows, you may learn something about each other.” Stede seemed very optimistic. 

You sighed, already nodding, well aware of how far Stede was willing to go for an idea like this.

Izzy seemed to be about to protest when Ed leaned in. “An order from both of your captains actually!�� He chimed in.

“Edward…” Izzy all but whined.

“Izzy.” Edward echoed, even mockingly copying Izzy’s whiny tone.

You watched as Izzy’s face flushed every shade of red, though whether it was rage or embarrassment or maybe both, you couldn’t tell. You bit your lip to keep yourself from laughing.  Izzy must have noticed since that seemed to set him off. “Oh fuck off. I’m not going to some stupid fockin’  island to get some stupid fockin’ peaches with this stupid fockin’-

“Bye! See you in a few hours! Have fun, you two!” Ed yelled cheerfully as he was towed away.  

You waved while watching Izzy in your peripheral vision. The bastard looked furious. So much so that he was practically vibrating with rage. Then again he had been thrown over Ed’s shoulder like a bag of potatoes and all but dragged here. 

“So…” You finally asked, drawing the word out, on guard in case he decided to bite you. “Let’s go find some stupid fockin’ peaches, eh?” You couldn’t manage to mimic Izzy’s voice but if you said so yourself, your ‘fock’ was pretty accurate.

Izzy snarled. “Piss off. We’re not working together. I’m going one way and you go the other.” He turned on his heels and stormed closer to the edge of the forested part of the island. You merely waited. He paused, deep in thought, glanced one way, then the other and then seemingly realized what you already knew.

You, of course, decided to rub it in. “I sure won’t stop you if that’s what you want. But I’d recommend against it. Not only is it against captains’ orders but when was the last time you did any navigating on land?” Izzy seethed and you grinned. “Also I have all the stuff, since rather than acting like a feral dog, I actually packed so… again, all your call of course.”

Izzy very obviously considered running off on his own if just to spite you but instead he turned quickly and stormed up to you. “Fine. You’re right.” He said it like the words burned his throat. “But I swear if you get us lost-“

“Yes, yes, I know, you’ll maim me and/or kill me in some creatively brutal and violent fashion.” You waved a hand dismissively. Deciding to go further you added. “Which you and I both know you won’t do since that’d piss off the captains.” You knew you shouldn’t keep teasing but you enjoyed watching Izzy turn red.

With a seething Izzy following you, you started trekking into the forest. Luckily you’d come prepared and had brought along your wide knife to cut through the foliage. The terrain of the island wasn’t quite the same as the ones you’d been on before but it was close enough.

The two of you walked mostly in silence with you occasionally warning about upcoming hazards in your path. You easily navigated the uneven terrain but Izzy had significantly more difficulty. Probably because he was used to a ship. As much as a ship swaying could mess up your balance, it was not comparable to uneven weird terrain like this. 

The first few times you’d chimed in with a “careful” or “watch your step” Izzy had snarled back at you to “Fuck off”. But after nearly falling on his ass a few times, he started to take your warnings more seriously.

(Honestly you deserved sainthood for not laughing until your lungs failed every time he almost fell. Especially since he’d always flail and pinwheel his arms to keep steady.  Something made even funnier by the fact that he was unharmed beside his ego.)

Luckily for both Izzy and your composure, you managed to track down the peach tree quickly enough. As you clambered up the tree and gathered up the requested fruit, Izzy stood around looking woefully out of place. 

You really were trying to work on Stede’s ridiculous bonding plan but you couldn’t resist and pelted Izzy with a peach. You nailed him dead center in the chest. He jumped clearly not having expected the sudden fruit attack but somehow his reaction time was quick enough to catch the peach as it bounced off his chest. He shot you a glare which you returned with a smile. Izzy tossed the peach in his hand, clearly silently considering throwing it back at you. However you simply motioned with the extra bag you’d brought which was currently full of peaches, making it readily apparent that you would in fact, return fire and that you had much more ammo. He backed off.

You climbed down from the tree and just as you were sorting yourself out…

BONK.

A peach contacted the side of your head. You spun to face Izzy and he had the gall to look confused and  innocent despite the fact that he clearly no longer had a peach in hand. You couldn’t help but smirk as you ducked down to pick up the peach and as you were standing up (but before you fully did) you threw it at him.

It just kept going that way as the two of you walked back. The peach being tossed back and forth with varied strength. Whether or not it was possible to break someone’s nose with a peach, Izzy sure as hell was trying to. Hell he’d nearly succeeded throwing the peach so hard you nearly hit yourself in the face with your own hand just from catching it. You on the other hand, had a simpler goal, you wanted to land it on his head. Izzy seemed to assume that you were aiming for his face so his defenses were focused there instead. You were certain you could land it before the two of you made it to the beach but you didn’t get the chance.

You noticed first. Izzy seemed really uncomfortable on land so that’s probably why he missed it. However you’d thought the air felt off all day. But it was only when the first thunder crack pierced the mostly quiet area that you realized that the off-ness you were feeling was the same way you’d feel before a storm.

Izzy had been mid throw when it happened. The peach hit you in the leg and was instantly forgotten as his attention immediately darted towards where you knew the shore was, doubtlessly worrying about Ed. “We have to get to the Revenge.” 

Izzy looked genuinely concerned so you didn’t give a snarky answer. “We can’t. There’s no way they can get a dingy out in what’s about to be a storm.” Your words were immediately emphasized when rain started pouring down. “We can’t make it back now. Let’s find somewhere to hunker down and get back when the storm passes.” Izzy still looked moments away from booking it back to the ship. “Ed, Fang, and Ivan are all on that ship. You don’t have to trust anyone else, just trust that they can handle it. Don’t risk making them worry about us on top of managing the ship.” 

Izzy cursed under his breath as he visibly struggled with the choice but luckily your logic won him over and you didn’t have to drag him. “Fine.” He hissed the word out harsher than any curse word. 

The storm hadn’t been gracious enough to give the two of you any time to talk and the wind and rain was already getting stronger. Despite just having had to talk Izzy out of this exact thing, you couldn’t help but worry about the Revenge. The island was pretty much all tall mountains, you doubted that your crew had gotten much warning. But you had to accept your own logic. They’d handle it. You could trust Ed and Stede to keep the ship safe (admittedly mostly the former).

The wind and rain made traversing the nasty terrain even more difficult than it had been before. The wind knocked you off balance and the rain made the ground slippery. The warm day you’d been having moments ago had vanished, the rain coupled with the wind made you nearly shiver. Despite the cold, you couldn’t run for cover. You had to painstakingly walk carefully to avoid falling.

After you got dangerously close to losing your balance at the edge of a small valley, you decided to reach out a hand to Izzy since you could tell he was struggling. His frantic stumbling was significantly less funny when he was actually in danger. Of course, Izzy didn’t appreciate your offer. You took it as a testament of how much you’d seen Izzy swear that even over the deafening roaring wind, you could tell he was telling you to “Fuck off”.

You could feel the mud under your boots shifting and you were incredibly worried about it giving out in a mudslide so you tried your damndest to move as quickly as possible. You nearly fell when your boot slipped out from under you. If the wind wasn’t so goddamn loud, Izzy might have actually heard your warning. But the sound of your voice was easily overpowered by the wind.  

Then the ground gave out from under both of you. You just barely had the time to launch yourself backwards, slamming none too gently into a tree for your troubles. Izzy wasn’t so lucky. You were immediately back on your feet and spotted him lying at the bottom of the small valley.

“Izzy?” You called out as loudly as you could. No reply. He didn’t so much as stir. Even if he hadn’t heard you, you doubted Izzy would just lay on the ground. “Shit.” You mumbled under your breath and quickly as you could, you made your way down, none too gracefully. You were at his side shockingly fast. Izzy was a little banged up but he was breathing thankfully, though it looked like he’d hit his head. He was out cold. “Well, shit.” You mumbled to yourself.

You ducked down and were able to carefully maneuver Izzy into your arms. For such a small man, he was shockingly heavy. But the universe did give you a bit of mercy when you spotted a small cave, looking to be most protected from the storm. You managed to drag the two of you inside. You put both Izzy and the bag of peaches down and dropped down to the ground, exhausted. Even though you were out of the wind in the rain, you were still soaked and you were still freezing. You forced  yourself to get back up. 

Luckily, the wind blew quite a few sticks further into the cave so you weren’t stuck trying to build a fire with wet tinder. Cold and uncomfortable as you were, it was incredibly difficult to be patient enough to slowly grow the fire but your dedication paid off. Before long You were basking in the warmth of a newly made fine.

You pulled off your overcoat which, while completely soaked, had protected most of your clothes. Izzy had given you shit about it, how a long coat wasn’t practical in the Caribbean (ironic, coming from a man in leather pants and a leather vest). 

Despite what you wanted to do you knew you couldn’t just sit by the fire. You had  to take care of Izzy as well. You dragged yourself up and knelt down by Izzy. He had a small cut on the back of his head but luckily it didn’t seem to be that bad. You didn’t hesitate to tear off one of your sleeves to wrap it up. You pulled Izzy as close to the fire as you dared but he was still shivering a little. You managed to pull him up so you could start the daunting task of getting him out of his vest and shirt. His vest was pretty easy but his shirt was completely soaked and probably responsible for sapping a lot of his body heat. 

As you untied his cravat you noticed the ring around it. You’d spotted the ring before (gotten a pretty close look when Izzy decided he needed to get into your face to yell at you). He always wore it. It was clearly important to him so you didn’t want to just set it aside and risk it getting lost, so instead you slipped it into one of your pockets. At least it would be safe there until Izzy was conscious enough to not lose it.

You had to rest his head on your shoulder so you could wrestle his dead weight out of his shirt. ‘Please don’t wake up right now. Please don’t wake up right now, ‘ you silently begged the universe, because, while you usually followed Stede’s ‘talk it through’ method, that was a conversation that you didn’t want to have. Luckily for once in this dumpster fire of a day, you at least got that and Izzy stayed unconscious. 

You definitely did not glance at his chest, taking in the mix of scars and tattoos that you’d never seen before. And it definitely didn’t look incredibly attractive on him. Not at all.Your jacket was dry at that point so you laid it over Izzy as a makeshift blanket. You considered taking his sword since you didn’t want to get stabbed on instinct when he woke up, but you also figured he’d probably feel better if he had it with him. 

You crumpled against the opposite wall of the cave and basked in the warmth of the fire. Since you were the only one who was conscious, you had watch duty by default. You glanced at Izzy. Hopefully he’d wake up soon. You doubted you could carry him back to the dingy and leaving him behind so you could get someone to help you made you incredibly nervous. 

It was strange to see him so calm. With his face so relaxed and your sleeve wrapped around his head, he looked like a completely different person. You let yourself stare at him for a moment before focusing on something else. Luckily your bag full of peaches was within arm’s reach. Quite a few of them had been crushed or otherwise mangled by the rough journey but you managed to find one that was mostly intact.

At least you had snacks…

---

It wasn’t easy to gauge the passage of time in a cave but you’d have to guess it had been around an hour. You’d had to go grab more twigs and tinder for the fire and the rain seemed to be slowing. That was something at least. Looked like the storm was going to stop soon. Then you’d have to figure out how to get Izzy and yourself back to the Revenge. 

Before you could worry about that a low raspy groan caught your attention. Izzy was waking up… He immediately grabbed at his head, hand going for the injury at the back of his head. 

“Careful!” You said, more on instinct than anything else.

His eyes immediately darted to you and after a brief moment where he seemed to take in his surroundings, he immediately drew his sword and pointed it at you and skittered away as best he could until his back hit the wall. His whole body seemed shaky and uncertain, the hand holding the sword was trembling.

You held your hands up in slight surrender, not wanting to freak him out any more than you already had. “Well, good morning to you too…” you managed, voice shaking slightly with an awkward chuckle. He stared longer. Not knowing what to do, you cracked a joke to ease the tension. “I know, the one sleeve thing looks great on Ed but it sure looks stupid on me eh?” You motioned with your bare arm for emphasis.

“What the fuck…?” He managed to hiss out, he looked genuinely confused.

You furrowed your brow. “Do you remember what happened?” You weren’t a doctor by any means but memory loss could happen with head injuries.

“I…” Izzy managed. He lowered his sword and clutched at his head. “I fell?” He mused, more to himself before a look of clarity passed over him and he hissed out “stupid fockin Stede Bonnet. Stupid fockin peaches.” 

You breathed a sigh of relief, if he was pissed off, then that was back to the status quo for Izzy. “So you definitely remember then. How’s your head?”

“How the hell do you think it is? It fuckin’ hurts.” He snapped at you. He glanced around getting a proper look at your surroundings. “What the fuck happened?”

Glad that he seemed more calm and had stopped pointing a sword at you, you explain what happened: how he’d  fell, how you’d dragged him here. When you reached the part where you’d taken his shirt off, he’d immediately looked down and seemingly realized that he was in fact, not wearing a shirt. He pulled your jacket up to cover himself more, looking almost comically like a blushing lady. 

“Why the fuck?” He immediately snarled at you.

You rolled your eyes. “Because it was soaking wet and you were shivering? You would’ve frozen your damn tits off if I hadn’t.”

He looked like he was moments away from snapping at you when he stopped himself and his hand immediately shot to his throat. Before he could say anything you jumped in, well aware of what he was about to ask. “I have it, don’t worry.” You patted the ring in your pocket. Izzy stared at you almost nervously. You probably would’ve teased him at any other time but you could tell he was genuinely concerned, so you didn’t. 

You stood slowly and walked around the fire, choreographing your movements as not to take him by surprise. “Here,” you said as you gently placed the ring in his hand. He clutched it tightly to his chest, one hand clutching his ring and the other toying with the fabric of your coat. You sat back down and leaned against the wall of the cave.

You expected Izzy to break the silence with an insult or a sarcastic comment, instead you got a soft, shaky, “Why?”

“You wear that ring all the time. It’s clearly important to you and I didn’t want it to roll away or get lost or  something. I-“

“Not the ring.” Izzy interrupted. You raised a brow. “This.” He motioned at himself and the cave around the two of you. “All of this.”

You didn’t expect to somehow get more confused after his explanation. “What do you mean by ‘this’? I mean, sure a cave ain’t all that cozy but it got us out of the storm…. Besides-“

“No!” Izzy snapped, clearly furious. You immediately shut up, not sure what to do. He luckily didn’t raise his sword at you but he leveled a finger pointing at you accusingly. “Why did you do any of this?”

You furrowed your brows, trying to figure out what he meant. “Uh, you know that if I’d left you back there, you could’ve died?”  

He nodded as you thought he might get it then he spoke again. “You hate me.” He said it so matter-of-factly, as if it were just a given, a fact of the world.

You blinked. The pieces clicked together. “I don’t hate you.” You explained softly. Izzy scoffed, disbelief clear on his face. “No, I’m being honest. I don’t hate you. Granted  you can be a fucking asshole. But, I only give you shit because you give my crew shit. I don’t hate you. And even if I did I sure as hell wouldn’t have left you for dead.”

Had he really expected you to just leave him there? 

“Wait…” Though, that did raise a concerning question… “Are you telling me that you would have left me?”

Izzy rolled his eyes. “Of course not. You’re one of few people on that ship that knows what they’re doing. Besides, even if I wanted to, the crew wouldn’t believe me.  Even if it was an accident, they’d all assume I killed you. But they actually like you. Even the captains. You could come back drenched in my blood and they’d still believe whatever you said.” Izzy chuckled humorlessly.

You stared, too stunned to speak. Suddenly, you felt awful about teasing him before. No wonder he was so incredibly hostile if he thought you could murder him and get away with it, that you hated him enough to do it. You buried your face in your hands. “Damn it, I’m so sorry.”

“Why?” You glanced up to see Izzy was staring at you, confusion clear on his face. 

You hesitated, trying to figure out how best to phrase it so it wouldn’t sound patronizing. “I’m so sorry for anything I did that made you feel like you weren’t safe with me. I doubt my words mean much but, I really wasn’t going to do anything more than tease… or hit you with a peach… Sorry about that too.”

His expression only got more confused. You watched as he went from confused to a little scared then immediately to annoyed. “Don’t pretend to care!” He snapped. “If you're planning on lowering my guard for some later attack, it wont work.”

 The ‘it won’t work this time’ was implied. Sure, you hadn’t been a pirate all that long, but you certainly knew how awful people could be. You couldn’t help but wonder about Izzy’s scars. Had he gotten any of them from crew members who hated him? Just waiting for a moment of vulnerability to pounce. 

Izzy Hands was making far too much sense for you all of a sudden. 

“That’s happened before?”

Izzy all but growled at you for that then he actually looked at you. He seemed surprised by whatever he saw. “Of course.” He replied, again his voice matter-of-fact as if that was somehow supposed to make sense. 

 But you were undeterred. “That may be how some people are… But you’ve made it pretty clear how soft and pathetic the Revenge Crew is.” He didn’t seem convinced. “If I really wanted to do something like that, we literally would not be having this conversation right now!” You emphasized. 

“Unless you want something from me.” Izzy snapped immediately.

“Well, I don’t. Not really. You don’t really have to believe me. But I’m not going to hold this over your head. Really, I would've done the exact same thing if anyone else got hurt.” 

Izzy stared at you, eyebrow raised. After a long moment, he huffed and broke eye contact. “I can’t understand you…”

You sighed. It seems like the two of you got completely opposite things from this. You could finally understand at least in part why Izzy was like that, while he was completely baffled by you. You were saved from the uncomfortable silence by noticing that the rain had finally subsided. “Ah, the rain’s gone. Finally, we can get back to the ship.”

---

Izzy watched, pensive, as you stood and stretched, grabbing the bag filled with those stupid fockin peaches, carefully putting out the fire and generally cleaning up. He couldn’t help but notice your bare arm, the one whose sleeve was currently wrapped around his head. 

“Oh, here!” You tossed him his vest, shirt and cravat. They were all in good condition. You’d clearly taken care to take them off without damaging them. Eager to put all this strangeness behind him, Izzy wrestled his shirt and vest on, keeping an eye on you as he did.

None of this made any sense. 

You hated  him. He knew that. You’d made it clear from the moment you’d met. You were Bonnet’s first mate, loyal to your captain and protective over your crew. You’d made it no secret that you didn’t like how he did things. 

Izzy had been hated before. Of course he had. He had a position that people wanted and he was well aware that he wasn’t all that likable. At least before people had a reason to fear him as well. You didn’t. You had an entire crew behind you and with Edward so wrapped up in Bonnet, Izzy didn’t have anyone to protect him. 

Well, except… You, apparently.  You, who’d had every opportunity to get rid of him on this stupid trip even before the storm came in.

 And yet, here he was. Unharmed. Not only had you not tried anything besides the same teasing as usual, but you’d actually saved him. That alone was completely ridiculous. But you’d done more than that. You’d gone out of your way to take care of him. (His ring felt like it was burning in his hand as he put it back in place.) Even if you weren’t going to kill him solely out of respect for your captains, you wouldn’t have needed to do any more than drag him here. Yet, you’d not only torn your shirt to patch him up, you’d given him your jacket and even taken the time to make sure he didn’t lose his ring, just because you knew it was important to him.

He tried to stand but he was quickly overcome with dizziness and nausea so he stumbled. He braced himself to hit the ground but… Instead he found himself leaning against your chest, your arms wrapped around him.

“Shit! Izzy you okay? Ah, fuck dumb question, sorry. Are you feeling dizzy?” Your voice was still so fucking concerned. No mockery. You gently pulled away, seemingly unphased by the fact that he wasn’t responding to you, still supporting him so he didn’t fall. “You… uh… can hang on to my jacket if you like?” Your words made him realize that he was still desperately clutching your jacket.

He hissed out a “Fuck off” on reflex but… Fuck it. He slipped your jacket on. It didn’t really fit all that well but it was warm. 

You smiled. “How about this…” You let him wrap an arm around your shoulder. “I don’t think you should be walking on your own but I sure as hell can’t carry you anymore. For such a tiny man, you’re rather heavy…”

Izzy scoffed. “Not my fucking fault you’re a giant.” He grumbled. There was less bite in his tone than usual but it was absolutely still there.

You smiled at the insult. “I’ll take that as you feeling a bit better. You’re already being a snarky asshole.”

It had been a pain in the ass to clamber back up the hill he’d slipped down. Honestly, Izzy was surprised you managed to clamber down in the middle of the storm and not fall as well. 

The walk back was generally quiet only broken by your occasional comment of “careful” or “watch your step” which, Izzy was realizing, you’d done before. He’d assumed that you were being condescending. But now, considering everything else you’d done you must have been genuinely warning him. The more he thought about it the more he realized how you’d never really been that bad. You teased and occasionally the two of you would get into genuine arguments, but you never did anything particularly malicious. And you clearly cared about your crew. You’d check in on everyone (himself included he realized suddenly) after a raid, make sure everyone ate, and, while you were far too lax about it in Izzy’s opinion, you did make sure chores got done.

Hell, considering how much of non-captain Stede fockin’ Bonnet was, Izzy had little doubt in his mind that you’d been mostly running the ship.

You were still soft. Too soft. But, clearly, it was working to some extent.

You were actually making far too much sense for him all of a sudden. 

Dammit.

Luckily, it didn’t take long for the two of you to find the beach. The Revenge was visible in the water and even from this distance, Izzy could tell that it was undamaged. A dinghy was also already enroute and its passengers all immediately waved at the two of you once they spotted you. 

Edward, impatient as ever, decided he wasn’t going to wait and jumped off the dinghy and waded the last few feet of water before sprinting over to you. “Izzy! Y/N! You two okay? Nasty one that was, huh?” (Any other time, Izzy would have probably chastised him for jumping into the water like that (especially after a storm) but right now, he was just glad to see his captain was safe. )

“Izzy hit his head. Pretty sure it's not that bad but he might have a concussion.” You reported quickly. “Is everyone else all right?”

“Everyone’s fine!” Ed replied.

“The ship?” Izzy asked.

“Fine as well, Iz. No worries.” Edward assured. A pause. “Well… Aside from a few of Stede’s books.” 

Izzy rolled his eyes. Of course.

The dinghy ride back was irritating. Roach seemed determined to check Izzy for a concussion right then and there. Though, it seemed that he agreed with you. Izzy would be fine. He’d definitely feel it tomorrow but he’d live.

The moment the two of you set foot on the Revenge, Stede was there. “Oh thank goodness! We were incredibly worried! I’m very sorry about all this! The storm really surprised us.” 

Luckily, Izzy’s head had calmed enough that he could pull away from you and lean against the railing instead. He quickly glanced around, the deck was messier than usual but didn’t look all that bad. His attention couldn’t help but drift back to you…

You were giving a quick report of everything (far more professional than Stede Bonnet deserved) before presenting him with the bag full of peaches. Bonnet was quick to announce that everyone was getting some kind of peach dessert that Izzy had never heard of as a reward for making it through a storm. Izzy scoffed. The reward for making it through a storm was being alive.

As Bonnet ran to the chef so he could explain this weird dish, you walked back to Izzy, leaning against the railing next to him. “I can handle everything up here. You should probably lie down.” You explained softly.

“Don’t need to lie down.” Izzy grumbled back.

You rolled your eyes. “What’s the point of having two first mates on a ship if you can’t take a break? I’ll get Captain Ed to drag you if I must.”

“Fine.” Izzy spat. A long pause. Izzy glanced around. Everyone seemed not to be focused on the two of you. “Thank you.” He said quickly.

You smiled. “Yeah, of course. Don’t worry about it.”

“...I’m still going to be a dick.” He confessed.

That actually made you laugh and Izzy couldn’t help but think that he liked that sound. “Duh. I’m not expecting anything to change. And I’m still going to give you shit.”

Izzy chuckled himself and nodded. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You pushed off of the railing and waved goodbye. “Well, I’m off to ask Stede if I can borrow one of his shirts for a bit. See you around!”

“Good luck.” Izzy replied, both of you well aware that you were going to be dragged into Stede’s wardrobe and not return for hours. You chuckled. 

Just as expected, the moment you asked, Stede’s face lit up and you were immediately dragged off into his pastel colored hell.

Before Izzy could even take a breather, Ed was all but leaning on his shoulder. “Hi. You’re going to lie down.” His voice held the same force as an order. Izzy sighed, well aware that resistance was futile.

As Izzy was all but dragged back to his cabin, with a promise that someone would go check on him later, Ed decided to talk. “So,” His captain began with a grin that heralded problems. “Nice jacket.” Izzy’s eyes widened as he realized he was still wearing your jacket. “Guess you guys really got to know each other huh?”

“Piss off.” Izzy grumbled but made no move to take your jacket off. “My clothes were wet.”

“Ooh! So they saw you naked too?” Ed teased and Izzy all but short circuited.

“I- Ah… My shirt and vest were wet.” Izzy clarified, somewhat shakily.

Ed merely hummed. Izzy knew him well enough to know he wasn’t done. “So… when's the wedding?”

“Edward.”

A/N: Izzy’s one of my favorite characters so I have to be mean to him. Also, I've gotten a few requests for enemies to lovers with Izzy, so, there will be more coming soon. (•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑

#ofmd x reader #ofmd izzy #our flag means death x reader #our flag means death #izzy hands x reader #izzy has all the issues #ofmd #israel hands x reader

[afreakingdork]

Weak Spot - Chapter 54

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

I just think they're neat: chapter art by @garbagemilkshake

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Marathon Sex, Somnophilia, Bondage, Feral Behavior, Feral Donatello, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Public Sex, Dom Donnie, Human/Turtle Relationships, Turtle Noises, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay

Synopsis:  A love story of villainous proportions! Though it hadn’t come easily, as these things rarely do, you found yourself in a whirlwind romance with a handsome and mysterious mutant. His idiosyncrasies had been easy to ignore as attraction grew into something more. However, will love endure when the unknowns about him end up being far darker than you ever considered?

I am here again to shout out @mothmans-left-nipple with whom I joked about this chapter's concept, here it is in all its silly glory!

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

Tucked in at the man’s side, you covered your mouth to stifle your excitement if only for the other diner’s sakes. They too had gone through the upscale absurdity of checkpoint after checkpoint of posh. It was the tax to pay from having your coats taken to your reservation being scrutinized. You were evaluated from the moment you stepped foot inside the building to when you were being led down an intimate hall. It was only then that you were granted true access and left alone in an exclusive dining space. A very specific sort of humiliation you weren’t sure you were ever going to get used to, you did at least enjoy the decor. There had to be something about the lights, angled just so, that illuminated each table in an ornate woven tapestry.

From white tablecloths to cherry wood accents, the silver on the table glittered around place settings crafted especially for you. Your chair had been pulled out once, a nod to your passing, and you took a careful seat. If you perched on the edge it almost felt like you were meant to be here. All a charade, you knew, but you played your part as your companion took the seat next to you and continued to titter.

“When he sings La Vie en Rose!?” Hypno gushed.

“It has to be in French! They have the English version on the soundtrack!”

“The soundtrack!!” You could almost see a heart appear in the magician’s throat.

For anyone around, they probably imagined the two of you were on a date.

A waiter came around to take drink orders and, in passing yours off, you saw your actual boyfriend.

Looking very much like he and Warren were the unwilling participants here as a guise for you and Hypno to go out, that wasn’t so far from the truth. Donnie currently appeared to be trying his best to dissociate while Warren made kissy faces at his reflection in a soup spoon.

“We get it. You both like the show. You’ve been talking about it for hours now.” Warren winked at his visage before dropping the spoon like a weapon in hand.

“Well maybe if someone would watch it with me…” Hypno turned his snout up from across the table.

“I sat with you while you watched it!” Warren swung his body and the utensil to lean on it as if it were a post.

“While you scrolled on your phone leaving hate comments.” Hypno looked, unenthused.

“You love when I destroy the confidence of pompous media influencers. They don’t even have journalism degrees and I’m supposed to listen to some half-baked baby who can’t afford a proper lav blabber about the news?!” Warren put on what you imagined he thought was a debonair face.

Hypno was equally nonplused. “There comes a certain point-”

Curling his wiggly body around the spoon’s handle, Warren crawled up it before seating himself in the bowl. With an alarming amount of skill, he then bent it back and aimed his makeshift trebuchet at Donnie.

“Uh…!” You piped up as your boyfriend didn’t so much as blink in the worm’s direction.

Warren took aim but as soon as he launched himself a ring appeared like something from a dog obstacle course. As soon as his pink body entered it, it jerked upward to scoop him out of the air.

“We said no magic at dinner!” Warren hung a furious limp above the table.

“We also agreed ‘no harassing our guests!’” Hypno’s eye twitched.

“Harassing!? I was trying to wake him up! What kind of etiquette is it to ignore such an esteemed dining companion?!” Warren bounced upright and placed a proud hand to his chest.

“And who would that be?” Donnie reluctantly emerged from wherever he was and flicked a bored gaze up at the worm.

Warren alit with fury and threw himself down toward Donnie.

Only Donnie's aura read smirk as he watched Hypno manifest a bunch of spinning rings in an attempt to catch his husband. With years of clear practice, Warren wormed his way through the onslaught, dodging nearly all of them save the last which clipped the tail end of his body. It caused him to spin wildly where Donnie only prepared at the last moment by picking up a napkin. He then used it to catch the worm as if he couldn’t stand the thought of touching him with his bare hands.

“I believe this belongs to you.” Donnie wadded the cloth and tossed it to Hypno.

“It unfortunately does.” Hypno sighed as Warren fought from within his sack before turning toward you. “Excuse us a moment?”

“Sure…” You bobbed an assuring nod.

Hypno gave you half a thankful smile for it and carried the Warren bundle away to have a stern talk.

“We can leave now.” Donnie didn’t bother watching them go.

“Try to be nice!” You hissed.

He waved down his body in demonstration.

“You agreed.” You quieted as the waiter came around delivering drinks.

You both waited for the man to leave before starting back up.

“Hypno is one thing. He is a contact and supplier. This? I did not agree to this.” Donnie gave the first bubbling simmer of a glower. “Not dinner with him.”

“Warren is…” You started out, but didn’t have a single defense.

Getting here had been a bit of a whirlwind. 

Unlike Mikey who easily steered conversation to and fro, talking to Hypno was more your speed. Branching off from how easily the two of you interacted in public, you also quickly found you had things in common that weren’t related to mixed company. Chatting with him was like catching up with an old friend. Using a bit of his flare, you imagined him folding in like a card into your hand as if he was always meant to be in the deck. 

It also didn’t help that you couldn’t shake your lonely read on the magician. Even as of late, with the addition of his villain’s group, he still seemed broken apart from any sort of support system and didn’t particularly fit anywhere. He was a simple man, who happened to be a mutant, with a craving for the stage, and a deep love for his husband. He had his pride, he had his work, and he said the man he’d married was the one who understood him best. From the way he described their meeting, it very much seemed like the two had found each other at some sort of low point. First rooming together out of financial hardship to eventually growing intimately attached, you’d been a little startled when Hypno had shared a wedding photo.

Warren Stone had, up until that point, been described as nothing short of a larger than life personality so when you were presented with a photo of a worm mutant, it was not something you had been particularly ready for.

You’d bitten your lip on asking about a size kink and was sure they made whatever they did work, on account of how smitten Hypno was. It was past that where you had difficulty keeping your mouth shut. You only knew what you had heard, but it seemed like more than enough. There had been mentions at the gala of Warren’s hard headedness which had been further cemented by the few comments you’d heard at group.

You didn’t like the way Warren treated Hypno.

You had first started out as sly as you could. You made attempts to look past first perceptions and Hypno was happy to talk about his spouse with the slightest prompting. It was only that, with each detail you gathered, your perception was souring fast. It all came to a head when Hypno had mentioned he’d been wanting to try a restaurant with a watercress salad that looked scrummy, but Warren found the plant to be repulsive. Immediately vetoing the entire option even though there was a whole entire menu for Warren to choose from that didn’t include said dish, Warren instead took Hypno out to some place they’d apparently been to a hundred times instead.

Hypno took it in stride. 

You took it as a personal attack. 

You would happily fight a worm for Hypno. 

You didn’t even know if he had powers, but you didn’t care.

The hang out as of yet had been nothing short of a confirmation with no exact planning, but you’d invited Hypno out to the restaurant he wanted on the spot.

The surge of responses had been an avalanche of care, but somewhere along the way, the goal had shifted. Hypno felt indebted to you and asked if the lunch could be pushed in favor of an elegant dinner instead. Something where there was no pretense for mind control, he wished to redo your gala experience without the judgment of others. Finding zero fault in that, you’d agreed only for Hypno to say how splendid it was and say how he’d get Warren on board.

You’d stared helplessly at your phone.

How did you explain you hadn’t wanted the derelict to come?

You hadn’t known each other long enough for you to openly dunk on the man’s husband.

They’d been married for almost two decades.

You did not have enough information.

Hypno, unaware that you hadn’t replied since confirming dinner, told you that Donnie and Warren didn’t have the best relationship and to keep that in mind. He’d gone on to explain seating options before tossing the whole thing out and saying as long as he got to catch up with you then the night would be a success.

You’d approached Donnie without pretense and gravely told him the situation.

The look of disgust that sat on your partner’s face was one that lasted for hours.

There was nothing to be done to get Donnie to agree in that state. 

You’d only waited earnestly until he had calmed down enough for a discussion and then approached him with how you felt their relationship was unjust. Your partner respected you enough to listen, but again, took several more hours until he could muster up a response.

It had been a bitter acceptance if only to see the two break up in real time.

That being another can of worms, you soured knowing the saying was forever tainted by the thought of having to deal with more than one blond headed plague. 

In the span of a day, you were suddenly drowning in plans. There was yours, which had lasted all of five seconds as you immediately realized, for the second time, that their marriage was none of your business. You knew far too little to pass judgment which was doubly reinforced as you had a shuddering thought of having almost acted like the other turtles. You would be hands off in the matter. Your lips would be sealed and you’d act as a bystander at best. You were also Hypno’s friend. If you were to say, treat him like the gilded man he was, then it was out of your hands if it starkly contrasted with how his partner dealt with him.

The thought made you feel a little like you’d been tainted by Donnie.

It brought you to your boyfriend and his participation in the matter. You’d brokered what you’d realized and brought it to Donnie already knowing how he’d react. He had years of being treated like less than from whispers that were too loud to pretend to be anything else. His filth was shouted openly and though for a long time he’d relished and wore it like a badge of honor, that didn’t mean bitterness hadn’t crept its way into his heart.

He had his own plan in regards to the matter and only because you were going regardless of his attendance. He spoke of concerns of safety and there was something honest about his stark attitude that surpassed what seemed like paranoia. He reminded you that his walls would be up, this was a work adjacent activity, which meant that by proxy he’d be on a certain sort of stoic behavior. He’d only cleanly said he would curtail obvious cruelties, but his image was one you knew needed to be preserved. Details of the location were required as he made mention of insurance which was made all the more haunting as he chuckled to himself about a pattern. 

You hadn’t bothered asking and only thanking him for cooperating the best he could. 

He hadn’t accepted and instead urged you to specify who was in attendance if you chose to hang out with Hypno again after this outing. 

You already figured as much, but hadn’t put together that Donnie was trying, in a roundabout way,  to explain to you just how bad the worm was.

Donnie had hatred in his heart. 

A simple fact, you never blamed him for it. 

You just imagined yourself more easy going than him. 

That was maybe why you missed the many seeds being spread as you joined the final plans which were ironing out details with Hypno. The magician had his own Donnie-like hook-ups that he’d joked about acquiring via mind control. Something you long knew possible of the man, you turned a blind eye to his not so sly comments and unfortunately skirted over more. There was Warren’s meddling with the date where there always seemed to be some excuse with whatever everyone else came up with. Once one was finally selected, you heard tale of the worm’s protests from service to chef, all while coming from a man who had supposedly never been to this restaurant before. Through Hypno’s funnel, the comments seemed more casual, spoken as if Warren had refined tastes and not in the tone of voice you would come to know from the worm. 

Meeting the pair at the entrance, Warren had greeted Donnie with a single ‘you’ and introduced himself to you with an outstretched hand you’d tried to shake. In a flick, he dodged to instead place an ancient business card in your palm and told you that autographs were a set price. You’d only stared in a sort of revolted awe before Hypno had stepped in laughing awkwardly.

Things rapidly began to make a lot more sense after that. 

In a silent fury, you had immediately gone to hug Hypno, which surprised the larger man, and couldn’t help but throw a glare at Warren.

The worm seemed not to notice as he asked to get this show on the road.

Speaking to his level of clout, he then proceeded to treat staff like dirt and paid little mind to the rest of his party as he took the first seat at the table.

You had gone from disliking the man to despising him which was only offset by Hypno asking you about the show you’d just watched. A man adept at diversion, you’d gotten swept up and distracted in your excitement to chat about it. Unlike Warren, Donnie had watched with you, but he wasn’t the type to analyze a show. His were bare bones notes on cinematography and spoke less about character’s actions outside of the obvious. 

You loved him, but he wasn’t all that great for theories.

Hypno, on the other hand, was and that was the point of having a multitude of people in your life.

No one was so one dimensional.

Everyone was made uniquely with a full spectrum of experiences.

“… he sucks.” You decided, returning from the rehashing of events that got you here and shrank into your seat.

Donnie took on the faintest air of understanding and you could sense he disliked how you were sitting across from one another.

Already slouched, you made an obvious show of kicking out your legs under the table.

Donnie barely had to move for his shoe to touch yours.

“I’m good.” You gave a little sigh. “Want me to say you told me so?”

Donnie shook his head a single time.

“You’re quiet.”

Donnie quirked his brow a bare centimeter.

You stared for a long moment and saw he was insinuating more. “Hypno has really good hearing doesn’t he?”

“Hippos have multiple auditory channels.”

You lowered your head and resisted setting it on the table. “So he most definitely heard me just…?”

Donnie’s silence said he nodded.

“The one thing I was trying to keep to myself!” You bemoaned and grabbed your glass for an angry chug.

“It’s quite alright.” Hypno spoke from behind you and you choked into your drink.

“Yeah, yeah. We’re back.” Warren huffed, clearly unaware of the double meaning and jumped down onto the table. Inching back to his table edge that he was using as a seat, he tipped his head haughty and addressed Donnie. “Truce for our partner’s sakes?”

Donnie’s eyes didn’t widen, but his brows rose the tiniest increment in the old way that showed astute surprise. “Warren Stone.”

Warren perked up and openly let his jaw drop as he didn’t have any of the same inhibitions. “Did… did you… just say my name?”

Donnie only returned the gaze.

Warren balked and sank down in front of his plate.

Donnie flicked a gaze toward you that said his part was done.

You gave him a nod before turning up to Hypno who hadn’t sat down yet. “I’m sorry… I didn’t…”

“It’s not the first and certainly won’t be the last…” Hypno didn’t look at you, but tipped his head in a knowing way. “I had a hunch.”

“I just…” You felt the weight of what you had to say. “You have only ever been kind to me. I want that for you.”

It pulled the magician’s eye with a faint glint and he finally grabbed his chair. “You’re a sweet one. I’ve sung your praises repeatedly now so you know. Seems I can add ‘protective’ to the list too, it seems.”

You nodded sheepishly.

He tapped the seat before finally rounding into it. “If I were to…” He looked across the table and thought better. “Nevermind, I can’t say I necessarily understand, but I do know why.”

“I…. wish I could say the same…” You admitted just as another waiter walked up.

It awakened the otherwise incapacitated Stone who seemed especially intent on figuring out exactly what ingredients were in what dish.

With orders placed in spite of his nagging, the waiter parted.

“Still on this picky kick.” Hypno eyed his partner.

“I like what I like.” Warren scoffed. “Didn’t you ask me not to do this? Why are you badgering me?”

“I’m not.” Hypno’s hands rose up. “Making observations. Moves the conversation along!”

“Backhanded.” Warren spoke out of the corner of his mouth to no one in particular.

“Honestly!” Hypno grunted loudly and with enough force that you felt the air bounce from the table to you.

Warren made a little mocking face, but said nothing more.

“Oh…”

Your small sound pulled the entire table's attention.

Did they know?

They had to.

It seemed so obvious now.

The corner of Donnie’s lip turned up a centimeter in what you read as another cover for his smirk.

They didn’t.

Was this interfering?

You weren’t sure.

You also weren’t about to sit there for the whole meal and listen to them bicker.

You looked between the pair and Donnie who happened to be caught in between. “Hypno’s ready for a change of pace and you’re too set in your ways Warren.”

“That can’t possibly be-!”

“So, what else is new?!”

Where Warren threw you lazy disinterest, Hypno stared with parted lips at his husband.

Your heart sank.

“Warren…?” Hypno mouthed slowly.

“What?” The worm turned. “Oh, don’t give me those watering hole eyes! This isn’t breaking news!”

“I don’t…” Hypno fiddled with his napkin.

“So we’ve gone stale! It happens to the best of them!” Warren inched up onto his place mat. “Look at these two.” He held up a hand for you and Donnie. “I bet they go at it day and night. Am I right?”

You felt your eyes roll back.

Donnie looked down his beak at the worm as if he could eviscerate the insect with this gaze alone.

“I’m right.” Warren gloated.

“The other tables-!” Hypno rose with indignity.

“Table schmables! Hey, toots! Yeah, you with the wig.” Warren threw his attention to a neighboring older couple. “You two together?”

The woman in question startled. “Y-yes…?”

“How long?” Warren scooted towards her until he ran out of table.

“Ten years?” She looked at her partner who whispered harshly back about not acknowledging them.

“Ten…” Warren gave what was almost a sagely nod. “Got you beat by six.”

“Con… gratulations?” She leaned away from her partner, obviously curious where this was headed.

If it wasn’t for his size, you bet Warren could command a room.

Hadn’t his business card said he was a primetime news anchor?

That made his ridiculous phrasing make more sense.

If Hypno and Warren had anything in common, they were all about branding. 

“Tell me truthfully.” Smashing a tiny fist to a utensil, Warren kicked up a spoon and held it out like a mic. “Do you wake up every morning and see the light of your life lying next to you or do you wake up and think: here I go, up to do this again?”

You heard Hypno’s shoulders drop.

The woman puffed up. “You can’t just ask-!”

Warren arched a waiting brow. “What was that?”

The beat of silence as the other diner’s listened in was deafening.

“T-that…! W-well…!” The woman looked frantically around her meal.

“Just say no.”

You watched horror spread on the woman’s face as she slowly turned to her partner.

“You… can’t, can you…?”

You watched a litany of emotions pass over the woman’s face before she tried to turn rage at Warren.

Warren was waiting with an expression that asked for it.

Her partner threw her napkin down and stormed off.

“Charlotte, w-wait!” The woman scrambled after her.

“A randomly polled New Yorker, everybody.” Warren bowed with his spoon and turned to the table.

Donnie’s face didn’t betray it, but you could hear his voice in your mind complain about sample size.

“That’s… how you see me?” Hypno spoke, a hollowed out man.

“You know I care, but the spark is gone! Need I remind you, that happens. It’s the way of love. You know what matters? I stay. I’m here. Every day!” Warren rolled his head and you realized the band around his neck wasn’t a segment of his body, but instead a wedding ring.

Hypno’s haunted face said this was all news to him.

“Look at it this way.” Warren created a box with his hands. “You know what’s good? Pastrami! The first time you have it? They made a scene in a movie about it! And you know what happens next? It’s still good!”

You abandoned Warren’s explanation to plead silently with Hypno.

You didn’t know for what, but he didn’t deserve this. 

Your gaze didn’t reach him.

“And it continues to be good, but it’s not the same! You also don’t see me ordering anything else though, now do you? Because I love pastrami! Not some two-bit vegetable masquerading as parsley’s answer to wasabi! No! I get the same sandwich that I know is good!!” Warren shoved the centerpiece out of the way.

“So that’s that, then?” Hypno found a small breath.

“Obviously!” Warren reached his husband’s plate.

“Fall back on the old tried and true? Never wanting more?”

“More?” Warren crawled onto porcelain. “What more!? This is it, babe! Plain and simple! As good as it gets!”

Hypno’s lids lowered and you could feel the dark energy coming off of him.

Warren through all his neglect felt it too and his airs dampened ever so slightly even though he immediately tried to boost them back up. “W-what…?”

“Our food is here.” Donnie’s even voice sliced through the space.

You snapped to glare at him. 

For everyone else, his face was the picture of neutrality, but you saw every single withheld cue that signaled he was having the time of his life. 

This was exactly what he had hoped for of the evening and, in any other world, he would probably be openly cackling and taking souvenir videos. 

Hypno turned his head away and it pulled your eye. 

Warren looked horrified as he slowly rotated and scooted back to his place setting with his metaphorical tail between his legs.

The waiters appeared as soon as he got in place and, in a coordinated rotation, doled out your meals.

Out of the corner of your eye you also saw them clear the table of the couple that Warren had scared away.

Staring down at a dish you no longer wanted, you felt Donnie pick up his utensils to heartily dig in.

Hypno moved to eat next. “I suppose a beurre blanc would be too adventurous for you.”

“Sounds French and like I don’t care.” Warren responded bitterly.

“We bonded once.” Hypno opened his mouth and swallowed a bunch of asparagus stalks whole. “Over our love of commanding a stage. The awe in a crowd’s eye as you do the unexpected.”

“No, you bonded over that. I told you I stared at a crew and camera.” Warren fought against his knife and a steak that was larger than his entire body.

“But we both chased a high! You with your new stories and me with magic! We had audiences!”

“I had a fan club. You had a failing career.” Warren gave up and sank down his spindly body.

Hypno’s fists came down on the table so hard everything bounced.

Donnie was the only one who remained unscathed as he hoisted his plate and drink up before it occurred.

“So, that’s it then? You want to have it out now? When I’ve been asking you to therapy for weeks! You’d like to have a go while we’re at dinner! In public! With friends and colleagues!”

“Yeah, no because it would have been so much better at that loser’s club you insist on going to every week.”

“Lose-!” Hypno stood and his chair flew back with a force that took out the table behind him.

The people there were unharmed, but they screamed and scrambled as if they needed to run.

It created a chain reaction of diners fleeing for their perceived lives.

You watched a few of them go before catching on how your partner was almost done with his dish.

He was acting like this was an exciting show always meant to be served with dinner. 

“Take. It. Back.” Hypno loomed, his face dark.

“Not a chance, big guy.” Warren wafted a hand dismissively. “In fact, I’ll say it again since you don’t seem to be catching the important headline. I think you’re wasting your time with those losers!” 

“Speak about me how you wish, but you will not insult my friends!” Hypno threw his hand up and a dozen rings appeared in a threatening hover.

“Open your ears would’ya?!” Warren reared in sudden fear.

“Find yours!” Hypno roared and threw his hand.

Donnie stood with an easy swivel out of his chair as the ring sliced straight through the table.

Warren soared out of sight where you quickly lost his small body in the ornate room. Rings continued to fly and since the worm was their obvious target, you could imagine where he was heading. Scaling the room and up a wall, Hypno shored some curtains. Warren grunted with some random effort, but seemed to be faring well considering.

“Babe, come on!!”

“Don’t babe me!!!”

Donnie appeared by your side.

“S-should… I… get up…?” You wondered aloud to him.

Donnie glanced at where Hypno had taken a hard stance beside you. “You’re not the target.”

“This is my fault…” You whispered.

Donnie’s face softened the faintest amount.

In several clinks, Hypno’s rings fell out of the sky before he turned to you with teary eyes. “No, no! That’s not true! You’re…!”

You stared up at the magician.

He knelt beside you. “You’re the reason I’ve been able to break out of my funk! I hadn’t realized the lull I’d fallen into it! You have no idea what you’ve done!”

“You’re the cause!”

Before anyone could seemingly react, you heard Warren’s voice rushing wrath in your direction.

“I should have guessed! Since you appeared, everything’s been changing. It’s you who’s upset my daily lineup-!”

Donnie’s fist shot out just above your head and Warren appeared in his clutches. “I tried not to interfere.”

In a sickly snap, he ripped the worm in two.

He dropped the pieces onto your dinner and you scrambled backwards in your seat.

“Not at all…” Hypno sneered. “Good catch, mate.”

“D-Donnie?!” You spun around in your chair. “What-!?”

“He’s a worm.” Donnie sent a normal sized glare down at you that caused your nerves to flare.

Outside façade.

Outside façade.

You mentally slapped your cheeks and turned back to watch in horror as one half of Warren animated like a zombie.

“How dare you!?”

You screamed.

“Now, now…” Hypno caught your hand. “He’s alright.” He threw a glance at his husband. “For now.”

“So, I’m the bad guy!?” Warren gestured down his body. “He ripped my tux! Do you know what I have to do to get a tailor!?”

Donnie oozed outright malice that said he would happily do worse.

Warren clicked his tongue.

“I loved how stubborn you were once.” Hypno patted your hand, but was clearly addressing the worm. “You fought for us.”

“I still do!” Warren threw out a tiny fist.

“You fight for what’s familiar!” Hypno turned to shout. “You fight for obvious comfort! You… Have you even seen how much I’ve flourished?!”

Warren grappled with several jockeying emotions before he bitterly looked away. “Your…” His voice dropped until it was nearly a whisper. “Your coat… has been more shiny.”

“I’ve been happier than I’ve been in years, Warren!” Hypno shook and you felt little droplets of tears fly off him. “I’ve…!”

“And what am I supposed to do with that!?” Warren rose up the length of his body. “You just up and left me behind one day while I-!”

Hypno stilled as the words hit him. “Warren…”

“Nothing! Shut up! It’s fine!” Warren had to use his arms, but he got himself turned around and clawed a few inches away. “Stupid body!”

“Warren…” Hypno released you in favor of curling his fingers over the edge of the table as if peeking over it. “Did… did you think I’d moved on?”

“No!” Warren grouched, nearing a midway point and stopping to pant. “This is dumb!”

Hypno put pressure on the table and it tipped.

“No! Hey! Knock it off!!” Warren scrambled to catch the table cloth, but slid openly with everything else.

You watched your dinner fall among a clatter of broken dishes.

You weren’t going to eat it anyway with the worm parts and all. 

Donnie touched your back for a comforting weight.

Warren hit Hypno’s snout and glowered at his husband. “Fine… Just…! Pick me up at least!”

Hypno plucked the worm and held him high in the palm of his hand.

It clearly made Warren feel a little safer. “You… you… woke up every morning, same as me until… you didn’t. You survived another run in with those miserable turtles and tittered about some brain washed buffoon from the gala and then suddenly it’s like the sun’s shining for the first time? What was I supposed to think!?”

“What did you?” Hypno’s snout was still under the table.

“I don’t know!” Warren turned away. “So I followed you! I tried to catch the scoop, but you weren’t cheating! You were-!”

You leaned back against Donnie’s hand.

“You were… smiling all stupid and beautiful by yourself… Like you… smiled at me… I don’t know!” Warren shrank down out of sight. “I can compete with some floozy, but how can I compete with you?!”

Hypno lowered his palm down to the table where his eye level was.

Warren refused to look, but you could see him pouting with all of his lower lip.

“You could have said yes.”

“To what?” Warren flicked some debris off what was left of his jacket.

“Sure, I was fine to go at it alone, but I wanted to do it with you. That’s why I kept asking you to come.”

Warren blinked up a little. “You… you didn’t say it like that!” He rounded on his husband. “You would say things like ‘come eat this gross salad with me!’”

“And you could have said yes.” Hypno’s lids lowered in wait.

“I could have-!” Warren cut himself off and did a frustrated waddle in place. “But I don’t like watercress…!”

“And I still don’t like pimento cheese.” Hypno bounced his palm so Warren could get adjusted. “Some things don’t change; like my love for you.”

Warren stared at his partner.

“Others do and it’s up to you to decide if you’re going to fight that or work with it.”

Warren scratched the back of his head. “Life keeps going, huh?”

“It’s why the news updates on the daily.” Hypno’s snout lifted to show his smile.

“I’m… sorry I called your hokey hippie’s losers.”

“It’s a start.” Hypno gushed and gave his husband a smooch so large he looked as though he’d swallow him up.

“The hair!” Warren swatted, a blush on his cheeks.

With a swirl of his finger, Hypno fixed Warren’s coif.

Warren stewed before giving a lazy glance around. “This place stinks. I’m leaving a one star review.”

“I have…” Donnie approached the conversation and surprised every one of you. “… a secondary location prepared.”

“Ugh.” Warren gagged openly. “Overachiever much?”  

Donnie stood completely stone faced. 

Warren threw a glance at you. “Always thinks he’s the best with all his contingencies. This guy, amirite?”  

You simply stared in response. 

“Or-!” Hypno chirped, rising up to his full height and dispelling the awkwardness. “We can have a proper meal. For real this time?”

Warren stuck a finger into the side of his head as if he was picking gunk out of his ear. “What’s the sitch, Berry Bad guy?”

Donnie’s beak scrunched a near indeterminable amount. “Something less elegant.” He glanced down at you.

You looked back up openly and smiled.

“Tacos.” Donnie told you and set his hand on your shoulder.

“They’re adorable, aren’t they?” Hypno cooed.

“Just like us when we were young and dumb.” Warren wrapped an arm around Hypno’s thumb as if to steer him. “They better have good barbacoa!”

“Their reviews are adequate.” Donnie held out a hand and led you out of your seat.

“Shame about this place.” Hypno glanced back where he was already walking away. “How many’s that make it, love?”

Warren hummed loudly. “Twenty something?”

“Twenty three.” Donnie followed without letting go of your hand. “In the past year.”

“That… what?” You checked in with Donnie.

“Place’s Warren and I’ve… reviewed.” Hypno chuckled from the front.

You shot a look at Donnie.

He passed you the barest turn of his head. “I phoned ahead days ago.” 

“And they still let people… eat here tonight?” 

Donnie gave a knowing micro-tip of his head. “They opted to update their insurance and go for a payout.” 

You stared back at him with a frown. 

“Easily thwarted.” He lowered his lids the smallest amount as if his offer to stop insurance fraud was a grand romantic gesture. 

You bumped him and shook your head with a smile. 

“Look alive!” Warren clapped where he and his husband were waiting at the elevator. “You’re buying as thanks! We put on quite the show! This is your future right here! Take notes and get used to it!” You didn’t have to send Donnie your worries because you could feel them through his grip.

NEXT

La-la-love and thanks to my betas @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

#weakspotfic #rottmnt #rottmnt donnie x reader #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #donatello hamato #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #rise hypno #Hypno-Potamus #Hypnopotamus #warren stone #me #fanfiction #my fanfiction

[gabessquishytum]

Do you really think anyone here is not already going feral over Dream and or Hob in a slutty tennis outfit? Really?? I'm thinking of young!Dream scandalising older!Hob's fellow rich dilfs at the tennis court by wearing a slutty tennis skirt and crop top as we speak

....I know nothing about tennis

- 🍃

Listen. You've pushed me over the edge. I can't stop now.

Tennis is a cutthroat sport. No friendships, only rivalries. Definitely no time for grabbing your opponents boob post-match.

Erm. What was I saying?

Anyway. The posh country tennis club is also a cutthroat arena. Dream (25ish) is the darling of the club. The youngest member, he's the one everyone fawns over. The prettiest, the most athletic. The older men fall over themselves to get his attention, and that's exactly how Dream likes it.

Enter Hob, new to the area. He's 29, fit and and newly rich and oh no, he's pretty. And he knows it. Suddenly Dream is only getting half the attention he used to! His traitorous admirers are flocking to buy Hob drinks and hold his towel for him when he goes out on the court.

There follows the most epic slut-off any self respecting tennis club has ever seen. Dream shows up in a tiny skirt: Hob responds by wearing a tank top which shows more sideboob than ever before. Dream starts moaning like a porn star in his matches: Hob pours a bottle of water over his head after he wins a set.

In the changing rooms afterwards, Dream glares daggers at Hob who just smirks and changes into his lounge clothes. Dressed up, he looks far more like one of his older gentleman fans and Dream’s mouth starts to water without his permission.

Hob leans next to his locker as Dream gets changed, completely uncaring that he's being watched. He can feel Hob’s eyes raking up and down his legs and he shivers without meaning to.

"If you've finished being a cute little brat, why don't you join me in the bar?" Hob smiles. "I'd offer to buy you a drink, darling, but I can get us both one for free. And then we can talk about how you and I would be much better off fucking than fighting."

Dream hates himself for it, but he whimpers like he's been hit square in the chest with a tennis ball. Possibly he grabs Hob by the tie and hauls him in for a messy kiss, or possibly he maintains his dignity and gives a coquettish little nod.

Either way, he knows that Hob has won. Game, set and match. And he doesn't even mind.

#🍃 anon #the sandman #dreamling #nsft #tennis au

[saintsenara]

I am literally so stressed right now since school is starting up again. I was just scrolling through your posts and I absolutely adore your opinions and thoughts. If you’re still up to the ships asks, I have a few.

For some reason, I have been thinking about age-gap relationships that wouldn’t be quite possible…and added with my love of Severus Snape… 👀👀

Abraxas Malfoy/Severus Snape - I don’t know if you’ve done Lucius/Severus but I just took it a generation back.

Romulus Augustus Lestrange/Severus Snape - I remember you mentioning in Scylla and Charybdis that the two were kindred spirits (?) since they were both killed by Voldemort.

Bellatrix Lestrange/Severus Snape - maybe a bunch of sexual tension during missions? Bellatrix’s attitude toward Severus was mainly suspicion but I feel like she meant it in a ha-ha-I’m-jealous-you’re-the-favorite way, not in a oh-wait-he-actually-is-a-traitor way.

Marlene McKinnon/Severus Snape - I love your take that she was a seasoned veteran in the First Wizarding War. It never made sense to me that everyone in the First Order were all children. Majority, maybe. But all of them being Gryffindors and out-of-school never stuck to me.

Frank Longbottom/Severus Snape - I’ve read a few works for this and I like the few takes there are.

And I already know your thoughts on Lord Voldemort/Severus Snape (it’s a favorite).

I’ve also been thinking about time-travel fix-it’s in general too. How do you think Severus would react if he found himself in Tom Riddle’s era? There’s the take on him being older and aware and absolutely done with his life, and Lord Voldemort (few years out of school or maybe in his 30s to level the age in a way) whose intrigued by the sour man (and maybe gets impressed by his knowledge of the Dark Arts?). Then there’s also student Severus meeting student Tom and getting further radicalized by this young handsome man. There’s so many to explore but at this point, if I don’t get my head out of this rabbit hole, I may never be able to pass school. 😭😭

This turned out to be longer than expected, but I love reading your posts! It’s always so entertaining, especially with your interpretation of Severus Snape. I can rarely ever talk about Severus without being attacked by Marauders fans online.

thank you very much for the ask, pal! i hope this term goes well for you - and that your extremely chic recent interest in snape-related age gap relationships endures.

let's see what we have here...

abraxas malfoy/severus snape romulus lestrange/severus snape

i'm going to take these two together - since romulus is an original character who exists nowhere other than my own head - because they occupy essentially the same role in relation to snape.

i've written before about how i really like the idea of voldemort having three distinct impacts across three separate generations - the knights of walpurgis/the original death eaters, who know the proto-voldemort of the 1940s and 1950s, with his muggle name and his retail job; these men's sons, who know the unassailably powerful voldemort of the 1970s; and these men's sons, who know the paranoid and volatile voldemort of the 1990s.

so you have abraxas - lucius - draco in each of those categories [or, romulus - rodolphus - n/a...]

snape is - of course - part of lucius and rodolphus' generation, and the voldemort he encounters when he becomes a death eater is the unstoppable political force who appears to be made of pure magic - which, naturally, makes snapemort have a very different power dynamic to something like tombraxas.

but it's also clear that snape is someone voldemort takes an interest in because he recognises so much of his former self in him - the slightly feral vibes, the poverty, the disappointing muggle father, the feeling of being an outcast surrounded by posh kids and the desire to bend those same kids to your will.

this is the reason for voldemort arranging things in scylla and charybdis so that snape can lord it over mulciber and avery, and it's also the reason why he's so insistent that abraxas and romulus [and other senior death eaters he knew at school] are nice to him - he's basically enjoying reliving his youth by, once again, making his minions obey someone who is technically their social inferior.

snape lacks the teenage tom riddle's charm [and looks], of course, which means that there's far more condescension inherent in any relationship - platonic or otherwise - that either of these two would have with him than there was in their early relationship with voldemort.

but they also have a fondness for spindly lads with an obsession with magic and regional accents, which means that i'm sure that something can come out of the fireside chats voldemort's compelling them to have with snape while they're forced to host him in their houses...

bellatrix lestrange/severus snape

i am very, very fond of this as a pairing - and, indeed, have something in the works on the topic - and bellatrix's rampant jealousy of snape is exactly why.

one of my preferred ways of exploring snape's position within the death eaters is to think of him as voldemort's exception in terms of social class - that is, that he is the only marked death eater who doesn't come from an elite, quasi-aristocratic background; and that voldemort's supporters who are from lower social classes are kept, like fenrir greyback in the rank-and-file and not permitted to take the mark.

[this is why, in my writing, i always make the carrows a similar level of posh to the malfoys and lestranges - canonically they're rather one-note working-class stereotypes, but i don't think this makes sense given what we know about voldemort's structuring of his organisation during the first war. it's also why i think that peter pettigrew doesn't receive a dark mark until he returns to voldemort post-prisoner of azkaban.]

bellatrix - on the other hand - is voldemort's exception in terms of gender [and another thing i'm wedded to thinking is that alecto carrow also doesn't receive the dark mark until the second war.]

these means, of course, that both she and snape depend on voldemort's favour - especially in the first war, when he still trusts his death eaters sufficiently highly to delegate things to them - much more than the elite male death eaters do.

i think it's reasonable to assume, for example, that rodolphus may object to his wife behaving in a way which defies the gendered conventions elite pureblood women are clearly subject to - and that it's only voldemort's authority that prevents him voicing an objection publicly. or that lucius malfoy - like sirius - conceives of snape as his "lapdog", and it's only voldemort's authority which forces him to treat him as a peer.

which means, of course, that snape and bellatrix are in competition with each other for voldemort's attention in ways which the other death eaters never have to be - which explains their vibe in canon, in which bellatrix finds snape's elevation in voldemort's good books after she falls from grace after the cock-up in the department of mysteries so infuriating.

[it also gives a really interesting dimension to her being completely fucking right about snape's loyalties, but being in the wrong position in voldemort's eyes for her opinion to be trusted by him. you just know she was pissed when she got to the afterlife.]

and - from a shipping perspective - having to be constantly jealous of and obsessed with each other is a very effective way of lighting a spark...

marlene mckinnon/severus snape

i do always like snape with an older woman, because i think it fits his whole vibe, so he goes very nicely with my preferred vision of marlene as a fifty-year-old hard-nosed ministry bitch who fucking loathes mad-eye moody.

the meet-cute? well, spies have to have handlers, don't they? dumbledore passing over his new turncoat death eater to one of his senior lieutenants - particularly given the fact that she's unlikely to be thrilled about this - is something i can get on board with.

frank longbottom/severus snape

frank and alice are other ones i don't enjoy seeing written as part of the marauders' generation - for them to be well-established aurors by the time the lestranges attack them, i think it's reasonable to assume that they're around molly and arthur's age [that is, around ten years old than snape et al.]

so i think we're repeating the same scenario as above - frank needs to debrief the order's new spy. if you know what i mean...

time-travelling snape!

i think that the teenage tom riddle would fucking hate the teenage snape, to be honest. the teen snape we meet in canon is someone who really obviously refuses to play along with the social conventions which govern an institution as elite as hogwarts - and he clearly stands out more for his grubby, feral demeanour, his uncouth manners, his way of speaking, and his refusal to be deferential to his social superiors than he does for his name and blood-status.

[indeed, he's one of the only really visibly working-class students we ever meet in canon - to the extent that i am increasingly convinced that hogwarts is a selective school...]

the young voldemort, in contrast, happily plays along with these social conventions for his own ends - simpering through slug club meetings and sending slughorn pineapple and doing all he can to be viewed as a suitable candidate for head boy, in order both to provide a cover for his wrongdoing and as a way to soothe the chip on his shoulder by beating the posh at their own game.

he's going to think snape's as common as muck, and snape's going to think he's a pretentious cunt.

a post-1981 snape going back in time and finding himself entangled with the young-adult voldemort, in contrast, i think could be rather compelling. it's very interesting that the teenage voldemort's willingness to play-act a fondness for the class system doesn't extend to being prepared to grit his teeth and suffer through a ministry internship slughorn procures for him - and his decision to go off and work in a shop has a slightly bolshy "fuck you, sir" side to it we don't otherwise really see from him.

this voldemort would, i think, be slightly more open to snape's whole vibe, and they could get cracking on all the things which make snapemort a hot ship - the shared love of magical experimentation, the dubious morality, the fact that voldemort's clearly responsible for snape's aesthetic, and so on - several decades early.

one question, though, is whether snape would know who he was.

i go back and forth on how widely voldemort's birth name is known - and whether it's ever connected to him following his return to britain in the mid-1960s.

on the one hand, i think dumbledore's secrecy surrounding it is nonsensical - a substantial proportion of the death eaters were clearly at school with voldemort, and those who weren't are still usually related to these men in some way [i always think, for example, that it's much more plausible to assume that the diary horcrux was given to abraxas malfoy, and that lucius was well aware that his father and voldemort had been at school together] - but on the other, i do wonder whether snape, who comes into voldemort's orbit as - as i've said - an exception would be made privy to the information about voldemort's background which was probably an open secret among the elite male death eaters.

[which also provides an explanation for why bellatrix is so shocked to hear harry say voldemort's a half-blood in order of the phoenix, while lucius malfoy doesn't bat an eyelid.]

which is to say, i am much more taken by the idea of snape - destroyed with grief over lily's death - rocketing backwards three decades, landing in the knockturn alley of 1951, and having no idea until he's in far too deep who the softly-spoken shop-boy who offers him a cuppa will turn out to be...

#asks answered #asenora's opinions on ships #unhinged and deranged ships #snape edition

[inconspicouslurker]

I love your hagsquad takes and hcs btw, and I was wondering do you have any for darius's friendship with eda and raine?

Thank you :D I mainly write them down here to keep them from cluttering up my mind. I figured to share them in a blog in case it might interest or entrained someone.

The thing about Darius that I love and find hilarious is that refined and posh Darius attracts feral friends.

Eda is well...we know how chaotic she is. Alador has own version of chaos. Eberwolf is legit feral. Perry isn't as bad as the others, but I think that kid has ran headfirst into danger to get first hand of the truth of the story multiple times. Plus, I think he gets very excitable. Odalia is a different type of chaos, petty and spiteful. The previous Golden Guard/ Darius mentor most likely had their own chaoticness with the simple fact of being Belos right hand man. Raine may be the least feral of them all beside Lilith. Which is refreshing for Darius. However Raine had their moments.

I assume, your question pertains their friendship to their younger years. I love Darius, and think about him and Alador often as they are my favorite hagsquad members. Darius and Alador are so intertwined that I never really put much thought of Darius outside of Alador (and therefore Odalia) in his younger years.

My take on Raine is they generally match the vibe, like a giant sponge that soaks in the energy and Raine hidden traits would surface to reflect based of who they are with. Which is usually near mischievous chaos since they usually hang with Eda. With Eda they own mischievous trouble making nature surface but they are a lot more aware of consequences of their actions then Eda. Raine try to be the voice of reason to Eda but get swayed by Eda (Mostly, Eda can talk them into anything with little reservation from Raine)

Now, Raine just one and one with Darius is a lot more dialed back. Raine calming maturity surface. As I mention before about Darius, Alador is his bestie, but I think he went along with Lilith. I love the idea of him being besties with Odalia too because it seems really fitting, but with flashbacks it doesn't seem that way. He just get along with Odalia really well as they have a lot of shared interest beside Alador. I am leaning towards Odalia and Darius were actually friends, but it more recent/the last few school years (not childhood friends) and Odalia was mostly associated with Alador which was extended to Darius as those two boys were nearly glued at the hip. Odalia was probably a pretty decent friend in her younger years but given a choice of something benefiting her friend vs herself she would pick herself 93.97% of the time. The 6.03% being something minor or trivial that she willing to give up when she in a pleased mood. Tho, he and Odalia probably bicker a lot over stupid teenager things for example, what's the better boy band. They are absolutely petty to each other over trivial things.

But teenage Darius and Raine? I assume pretty good friends with the short time frame they were giving during the school years. They may discuss more "adultish interest" such as "cultured" things that didn't interest Eda or Alador. For example, fine art and musicals and such. Both thoroughly enjoying their conversations as they probably don't really have anyone else to discuss to and it was refreshing to finally have someone to do so.

Darius probably gave a lot of advice on fashion to Raine how they can still look great while remaining neutral looking. Like, a minor small adjustment that took an obvious feminine or masculine article clothing they really like but the minor tweek on Darius advice made it neutral.

They both seek each other if they need a serious insight on something (Mostly their crushes on their besties) outside of their besties opinions. Both good at listening and giving advice with an outside perspective. Everyone but Alador knew of Darius crush but Darius was still in denial. Darius went to Raine when he stop denying and came into terms with his feelings for Alador. He discussed them with Lilith at first a few time but stopped. Lilith was great with the outside perspective but she didn't relate. It was much easier to discuss his pining with Raine who had experienced it. They get to bounce of each other their frustrations and woe. This deepen their friendship rapidly as they were confining their deepest selves to each other and neither said anything to break the others trust. Which is funny because their shared secrets they told each other, the student body has already speculated and was treated as common knowledge.

They both had an interest in the drama club. Darius making costumes and Raine with the music. (Alador was a total stagehand/set & prop design) Darius was also interested in acting. I think Raine was too but was really nervous about it, then discovered they had stage fright or something during their musical that scarred impressionable teenage Raine to gain stage fright. They didn't seem too nervous during H.E.C.K/I.F.W.O.T) granted they did a few times before hand so they had experience that may lessen their anxiety. But if someone who cannon been mention they had stage fright, they didn't seem too sheepish or nervous improvising to pretend to fight Eda with the spotlight on them in front of a coven head. All of the squad was involved in the musical. Alador wanted to stay backstage but was force to be on stage a handful of times due to lack of members to perform. He was terrible at it, and fell several times and kept going in the wrong directions.

Darius with Eda, I just have an impression he sort of hung back and let her do her thing. He was just along for the ride. He enjoys hanging out with her. She breaks him out of the cool maturity he hold himself in but she's like the devil on his left shoulder that he would roll his eyes playfully with a mischievous smirk forming on his lips when she whispers her devious pranks ideas and go along with it. She pretty much brings him back down to act his age or little younger.

They are also very competitive with each other. With physical prowess and sports to stupid wagers. Eda often dares him which he usually follows through even reluctantly because he prideful and he cant have Eda gloat about whatever stupid dare she made. Eda takes full advantage of this often daring him on things that she knows he right about but dares him otherwise because he has a need to prove her wrong.

All three together? Well, I think it changes up dramatic over the course of their school time. Raine was only at Hexside for a year or two and during that time Raine befriended everyone, have awkward teenage will they?/wont they? with eda, possibly follow through the will they part during the end of the year, and Darius own falling out with Alador. So with each episode of those would change up the dynamic of the trio.

The will they/won't they would have Darius rolling his eyes alot and teasing them playfully. Give them advice individual to help them along to get together. Eda called him out at one point about him giving advice but hasn't done a thing about Alador who he *OBVIOUSLY* has a crush on. Darius turned red and sputtered at that in denial.

Will they: Darius be happy for them but probably be nauseated of their sickenly sweet affections. Starts to feel like a third wheel. Especially if it was during the time of his fallout with Alador.

Between the two events: Darius would be slightly irritated by the obvious tension and feeling nauseous as they give each other lovey dovey eyes. "WILL YOU TWO KISS ALREADY!"

During the fallout Darius was most likely bitter at a few points, Especially if Eda and Raine are together. Not bitter at them, but bitter about his own love life or lack thereof while his friends flourishes before his eyes. If there was a angsty emo teenage Darius phase, it would be at this time. Him pretending and failing at hiding that hes not bothered by his falling out/ possibly turned down /possibly unrequited love. He spout cringy emo sayings when he feeling particularly low. “Never make someone your everything because when he leaves, there goes your everything.", “Sometimes it’s better to be alone. No one can hurt you that way.”, “What hurts more than losing you is knowing that you’re not fighting to keep me.” 

*Can you tell I'm enjoying imagining for the first time, a teenaged emo phased Darius here?*

Again, I haven't thought too much on it but here are my thoughts in the thirty minutes it took me to write this since it was brought to my attention. Hopefully, its was at least somewhat entertaining.

If anyone use any these headcanons, please give a shot out to me as I am trying to included in my own fic

#owl house #the owl house #toh #the owl house headcanon #toh darius #darius deamonne #raine whispers #toh raine #eda clawthorne #eda the owl lady #toh eda #edalyn clawthorne #lilith clawthorne #the owl house lilith #alador #odalia blight #alador blight #the owl house alador #toh alador #the owl house odalia #toh perry #the owl house perry #hagsquad #eberwolf the huntsman #toh eberwolf

[donttalktomepleaseilldie]

♥️💎👤🎨

Holy shit!! You asked!! Thank you! ♥️: I love the headcanon that Sherlock is POC. It’s one that I personally think should be canon and I love how the fandoms allowed the diversity and the show offers it also. I also love the idea that John probably has ADHD, just hasn’t been diagnosed.

💎: too many to count, but probably the ‘Memory is a tricky thing’ from the Gloria Scott case. I think I fell more in love with John and Sherlock for that. It was a genuine, heart to heart conversation that made me cry. We learnt so much about John and a hint to Sherlocks potential loneliness was there; and it was heartbreaking and loving at the same time.

this podcast, man.

👤: Mycroft, if I’m honest. I’m interested to see how they’d interpret Sherlocks brother and if they have that sibling bond they deserve (a good example of how I see it is BBC Sherlock Sherlock and Mycroft.) Oh and Lestrade. I am so looking forward to see how they’re presented in future episodes.

🎨: Mariana I see as a beautiful Spanish woman who will cuss you out in Spanish and is not afraid to throw hands when pissed enough. She wears glasses I’m sure. Would be educated on some really niche topic, outside of expectations and it shocks both Sherlock and John. Sherlock I visualise as a relatively tall gremlin, warm, dark skin, eye bags heavy enough to fly from Heathrow to Soeul Airport, black hair (I can’t decide long or short?) but definitely curly. Wears hoodies as they’re sensory preferable to him. All his clothes have cut out tags. And of course, his headphones!! I also swear he’d have the baby brown eyes that men just have and makes me go feral. John I see as a probably 5”6 guy, with a scarred leg, walks with a limp, beer belly, mustache, blue eyes like ice, and dirty blonde hair. Wears flannel shirts and tan shorts, that sort of guy. Greenish blue eyes that reminds you of the sea at high tide on a sunny day. Headcanon characters? I see Mycroft being slightly shorter than Sherlock, but slicked back hair, crooked nose, glasses, and slightly lighter skin. Neat appearance and would not swear until prompted. Darkish, black eyes that bear into your soul. Small glasses for funsies/aesthetics. He hates denim so would rather die in hell then be seen in jeans.

Posh tone of voice but would swear like a cockney when pissed off enough. For Lestrade I see a tired black woman, braided hair, eye bags like Sherlock’s and done with everyone’s shit. Probably someone with strong arms and really good to cuddle. Rarely smiles and rarely gets a compliment but would be so comforting and so motherly when she wanted to be. Wears her badge with honour and puts up with Sherlocks shit.

thanks for reading and asking about one of my favourite podcasts!!!!

#Sherlock and co #wilson talks #Asks #sherlock Holmes #podcasts #John Watson #headcanon

[arialerendeair]

Participating in Dreamling Bingo and debating what I should work on and since the brain is being very wishy-washy, time for peeps to toss out suggestions for what they want to see!

Link to my existing fills!

Quick context for those with purple dots (ie ones I have ideas for)

Rift in Time - (Sandman/Kingdom Hearts Crossover) - Sora gets dropped in the “real world” of Sandman and is found by Hob Gadling - while Dream is investigating this human ‘Dream Eater’ Riku

Knife Play - Beard!Kink and sexy, sexy bearded time w/ shaving with a straight razor

A/B/O - Absolutely feral-for-each-other True-Mates-But-Won’t-Talk-To-Each-Other Dreamling get together.  Epic pining.  Musclechub Hob

On Your Knees & John Dee Wins (Sandman/Kingdom Hearts Crossover) Sora and Riku teach Hob how to use The Power of Waking (which, by canonical definition of it is basically the same as Dream’s ability to reset the timeline and I will never be over that) to undo John Dee beating Dream

Creature: Android - Han Solo-esque Hob Gadling finds an android-that-is-much-more-than-an-android in space

Self-Esteem Issues - In a world where it is common to gift your heart/heart’s manifestation to each other - Dream rips his out and discards it.  Hob finds it being sold and tries to give it back to Dream, but Dream doesn’t want it.  Hob keeps it and cares for it

Didn’t Know They’re Dating - Marriage Pact with each other when they turn 40 - hopeless pining for each other before and after 

Withdrawal - Touch Starvation for both boys - learning to give and accept hugs

Enemies to Friends to Lovers - Competing ASMR artists Hob and Dream on YT - casually having YT beef, then being friends on collabs, then getting together via a Shakespeare-off

Fairy Tale Curse - Dream is cursed by the Fae (or someone else) that he must marry someone or DIE and Hob is just ride or die ready to be anything and everything Dream needs and will fight everyone else for the privilege of marrying Dream and no one is gonna stop him

Soulmates - Hope!Hob AU - Bunch of supernatural creatures try to court the new Hope, but he has only one person he wants courting him

Meet Ugly - Hob’s a mechanic, Dream’s a posh git with an expensive car.  Hob thinks Dream knows nothing about cars - they fight and the sexual tension snaps (against the car, of course)

So, thoughts?

#Aria posts #Dreamling #Dreamling Bingo

[moonyeyedstar]

Skinny Dip- Sirius Black x Reader (Mauraders Era)

*18+*

“C’mon c’mon y/n it won’t be that cold I promise, I’ll cast a charm to keep us warm,” Sirius smiles dragging you to the black lake. It was way past curfew and you had to use the map to make sure you could get past Filch without getting caught. You shiver at the crisp air, summer was on its way but the spring nights were still too harsh for you to handle. As soon as you two make it to the black lake Sirius wastes no time stripping nude, tossing his clothes on a blanket he has laid out for you two for later and casting a charm on you both. You however strip yourself slowly, a bit paranoid about getting caught and constantly looking around you thinking every sound was a professor waiting to catch you.

“Oh y/n don’t worry no one is here,” Sirius chuckles waiting for you to finish undressing. As soon as your panties hit the ground Sirius picks you up tossing you over his shoulder and running into the black lake. You shriek as the ice-cold water splashes around you two. The charm is not cutting it for you but before you can think Sirius tosses you off his shoulder and into the water. Goosebumps flood your body as you flail for a minute before pressing your feet firmly on the rocky sand and standing up from the water.

“Sirius!” You shout splashing water in his direction but he has already broken out into a fit of laughter.

“Lighten up!” He chuckles and moves closer to you keeping his hands on your waist and pressing a kiss on your forehead. The warmth of his lips sends a shiver through your body. You look up at him and he has his gaze set to the sky. You look up and see the night sky lit up with stars. The moonlight reflected off the water. You both stay like that for a little while in a comfortable silence with your wet naked bodies pressed against each other generating a comforting warmth, staring at the beautiful night sky. You lower your gaze and much to your surprise you find Sirius staring at you and not the stars illuminating the sky above. Your body flushes red and can’t help but smile sheepishly. You struggle to find the right words but before you can even open your mouth to speak Sirius starts, “Y/n you’re so beautiful,” he smiles down at you and you can’t help but look down in a lame attempt to hide your blush.

“Siriussss,” you whine embarrassed.

“I love the way your eyes sparkle under the moonlight darling,” Sirius continues with a big smile on his face and his eyes full of love. His hands grip your waist a bit tighter and you absent-mindedly press your body against his trying to close up whatever little bit of space is left between you two. His touch is electrifying. You look up at him and your eyes are filled with lust. Your need for him grows more and more with every second that passes by. A mischievous smile grows on his face as he leans down capturing your lips in the most passion-filled kiss you ever had. You instantly melt into the kiss, your body feeling as if it was on fire. You let a soft whimper leave your lips and find its way into the kiss. Sirius lets one hand slip from your waist and it slowly makes its way down your lower back and cups the bottom of your ass. Your breath hitches as his fingers are so close to your throbbing cunt. You break the kiss and send your lips to kiss down his jawline and his neck. You can’t help but to bite down and suck on the spot under his earlobe and by his jaw that you know makes him go feral. Sirius’s body reacts just the way you had expected, his whole body shuddering as he lets out a low groan. You smirk to yourself loving how riled you get him. You take a second sending your hands and entangling them in his hair as you take in the intoxicating aroma of his natural scent mixed with the fading scent of whatever posh cologne he has on this time. Sirius takes advantage of the way you are practically clinging to him to swoop his arm under your thighs and bring you to straddle him. You let out a quiet yelp from the quick movement feeling as your pussy rubbed against his cock and lower abdomen. You begin to yearn for his cock needing to feel filled up by his thick length. You tighten your legs around his torso and move your hips so your folds are against his cock and slowly grind your hips moving your folds to stroke his cock. You let out a soft moan and keep moving your hips and listen to the ungodly sounds that fall from Sirius’s lips. You feel his body shake against yours, his knees buckling from the pleasure you’re causing him just from the slow movement of your folds against him.

“More Sirius,” you breathe into his ear. Without saying a word he carries you out of the lake and lays you on the blanket he had spread out. You stare up at the stars above as Sirius climbs on top, his tip teasing your entrance. “Please Sirius, don’t tease me I need you,” you whine and he leans down to bring you into a heated kiss. His lips feel like home and every muscle in your body relaxes, this allows for his tip to slide into you. You gasped a bit at first from the stretching sensation from his tip. While deepening the kiss Sirius sinks his full length into your throbbing cunt, your walls flutter around his length. “Oh fuck Sirius!” You cry out. Your moans were music to his ears, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Oh fuck Y/n, I love when you say my name like that,” he growls gripping your hips to keep you in place as he pounds into you. Your walls clench around him greedily and your legs feel like jello. You rest your hands on his shoulders and can’t help but dig your fingernails into his shoulders while you scream his name. He moves his lips to plant big wet sloppy kisses on your neck while maintaining his consistent hard but quick thrusts. Sirius finds the sweet spot under your jaw and begins sucking on your soft sensitive skin hungrily. He nibbles and flicks his tongue over your sweet spot as he sucks leaving a pulsing bright purple hickey on your delicate skin.

“Oh Sirius,” you moan breathlessly as your breaths begin to shorten and your breathing becomes quicker as you feel your climax approaching, the tension and nerves building up in your stomach. Your walls can’t help but keep clenching around this twitching cock.

“Hold it for me, love” Sirius moans knowing that you’re close from the grip your pussy has on his cock. Your mouth falls open and all you can do is become a moaning mess underneath him, focusing on not cumming with every thrust that hits your G-spot. “God y/n you’re so fucking tight,” Sirius groans, his thrusts becoming sloppier and this cock twitching inside your cunt. You could tell how close he was but he was trying so hard to hold it because neither of you wanted this moment to end, however holding it was getting harder and harder for you to do. All you needed was his okay and you’d come undone right under him.

“Oh Sirius please I have to cum, I can’t hold it anymore,” you whimper, squeezing your eyes shut and your nails digging into his skin. Your begging seems to send him over the edge as his grip on your hips tightens leaving an instant bruise.

“Fuck, y/n! Cum darling,” Sirius grunts as he takes all his strength to pound into you until he topples over releasing into you, his head buries into your neck as he continues thrusting into you slow and sloppily for you both to ride out your orgasms. Feeling his cum fill you up sends you over the edge, a wave of pleasure washes over you as you cum on his cock. Your legs tremble around him and your whole body shudders underneath him. You tangle a hand in his hair and hold his head where he rests in the crook of your neck. You both lay there panting. The scent of sex mixes with the scent of the outdoors and fills the air around you. You both relax in each other's arms. You love it when Sirius lays on you, his weight on your chest relieves any anxieties you had throughout the day. You tilt your head down to kiss his head. “I love you, Sirius,” you say breaking the silence.

“I love you more Y/n,” he says lifting his head to smile at you. You spend the rest of the night cuddling under your star.

#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hogwarts student #hp fandom #hp smut #smut #harry potter #moonyeyedstar #sirius being sirius #sirius black #sirius orion black #marauders #marauders era #the marauders #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #sirius black smut #the marauders era #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black sex

[bhaalsdeepbat]

Keep thinking about the .00001% chance my Durge has a kid, and how impossible the circumstances would have to be, but also how both posh and feral a child raised by Durge and Astarion would be 😭

Like this baby is so good at using their baby charms to get everything they want but sometimes it's ridiculous shit like. You have this super spoiled child who is kind of a brat sometimes, but secretly a huge softy and is actually VERY well behaved for their parents & extended family...for the most part.

Sometimes a feral streak will hit them and they'll get the combination Dhampir/Bhaalspawn Zoomies. They're running around yelling about paving a path in corpses, Astarion is moving at top Vamp speed to keep up, Storm Sorc Durge flying over every which way trying to prevent shit from breaking/falling. But this is still just a child so at a certain point they overdo it and Astarion & Durge just fucking find them passed out with some squirrels they drained then slaughtered.

But also imagine the hunger this poor child would experience. Like they're the creation of two people with nearly uncontrollable appetites. The "Pets or food?" Dichotomy to an extreme. Living beings are literally their life source and their offering to the God whispering violence in their ear day in & day out. Cus you know Bhaal would be giving that little Bhaalspawn Special Attention. Cus he's petty af.

Like it would be so tragic, but could be such a good "resisting hunger & urges" story to explore esp with having to live their lives with both bc Dhampir Bhaalspawn baby wouldn't have Withers to take Bhaal's blood from them

#withers saw them giving Arabella REALLY bad advice and was like this child will NOT be staying here with you two idiots #she needs better influences #also this situation is so impossible #i think Mercy would have done shit to ruin their reproductive system before being lobotomized #i know it could be fixed magicallu #but they wanted to make sure everything they could do w the control they did have at the time #to end this cycle bc there is no way theyre giving more to the cult when they've already given the bhaalists #everything mercy is and more #but that isnt enough bhaal also wants their children and children's children #that being said #catch me drawing this dhampir bhaalspawn abomination #prettiest little thing with the sharpest claws and a jaw that opens up like #fuck what was that old vampire movie where their mouths opened up four directions #like their faces peeled open #i think the bhaalspawn shit would fuck up how the vampirism manifested #and make this child so fucked up looking when fully transformed but #when in their usual form theyre the prettiest little thing #the sarevok letter out here singlehandedly supporting my thought that Durge would still have some Durge Things going on #bhaal just took away their inheritance AND his ability to take over their body like a puppet was rescinded #i think Durge would still have Durge Thoughts #but it isnt their blood whispering and fighting to take control. they're #just dealing with intrusive thoughts that dont take over and cause them to black out #but they see that happening to THEIR child???? #like the helplessness knowing they cant do a damn thing #astarion and durge going on a journey to save their baby #neither of them wanted the damn thing but now theyre attached 🙄 #bat writes #never love an anchor

[your-own-scifi-nerd]

Rose Tyler And Classic Who

The First Doctor- a fight and flirt relationship. they would fight so much so often, yet strangely Rose would flirt with him and leave him completely flustered

Susan- they would be besties. Rose would introduce her to modern day fashion, and they would end the patriarchy together. all in one day. (because Susan deserved better and we all know she and Rose are both feral wolf raised children)

Ian- they would talk shit about the Doctor together. and he would hold her back from fistfighting a sexist/racist/homophobic dude then punch him in the face immediately so she doesn’t get in trouble. they would totally have a sibling relationship.

Barbara- they would have a love hate relationship. Rose would constantly fight with her, but they would both make up and be girl bosses over everyone else. she would also help Ian and Barbara get together.

Vikki- two words. feral. children. they would physically get into fights with anyone who dared treat other people lesser.

Steven- they would sit together and talk about cute men, while they get thrown in jail on every planet they go to.

Dodo- Rose would definitely treat her like a younger sister, and Dodo would hate and love it. they totally give each other fashion advice and do the other’s hair.

Ben and Polly- Ben would treat her like his sister, and Polly would help her take over the world.

The Second Doctor- joking and singing. These two would sing together everywhere, with the Doctor playing the recorder. they would also be joking and flirting everywhere they go, yet wouldn’t acknowledge it at all.

Jamie- you can’t not tell me they would absolutely joke about the Doctor, make fun of him, and beat people up together.

Victoria- automatic mother/older sister role. doesn’t matter which one, she automatically takes her into her care with a mentor figure affection, and Victoria would be hesitant at first but eventually come to see her as one of the two.

Zoe- they fight a lot, more than Rose and Barbara would, but it’s more of two extremely strong women with similar personalities that, once they stop fighting and finally click, makes everyone wish they kept fighting.

The Third Doctor- would call her “my dear Rose” and take her out on car rides very often. she would love to help him in his lab, singing along with him when he sang. they would flirt, but it’s seems old fashioned, and less joking

Alistair- would fight in a fatherly daughter way, but drink tea together every afternoon no matter what.

Mike- talk about cute men together, and spar together, and are almost tied at the hip whenever she’s at UNIT

John- chills with Mike and Rose, and has a very brotherly relationship with her.

Jo- they flirt with everyone, wear mini skirts and kick ass together all the time. they would absolutely be besties.

Sarah Jane- same with Zoe, except when they do click the entire world shakes in it’s boots.

The Fourth Doctor- they have a very jokingly relationship, flirting and teasing each other almost every time they see each other. she also will constantly wear his scarf whenever they’re out.

Harry Sullivan- he would become the older brother she never had, and she would help him with coming to senses with more modern views. he always tries to sacrifice himself for her, of which she always patches him up afterwards.

Leela- Rose would beg her to teach her some of the fighting skills, just like how Rose would teach her a bit of stuff from her time on earth, and they would have a shit load of fun together.

K9- calls her Rose, with her insistence. best dog/girl duo ever.

Romana- in her first body they would fight. a lot. Rose would think of her as too posh and stuck up, and Romana would think of her as below her. her second body, however, they would slowly start to become friends, and by the time they separate would be extremely close.

Adric- he acts like a brat to her, which she quickly puts a stop to and they become a sibling duo, constantly bickering with each other and driving the Doctor mad. but, they have that true sibling relationship where it’s “only I can insult them and we’ll insult you together”

Tegan- fashion and music buddies. they constantly share and talk about their taste in fashion, music, and women(because nobody in Doctor Who is straight) 100% gossip buddies

Nyssa- like Victoria, Rose becomes an older sister sort of figure to Nyssa after her planet dies. but, Rose also loves to learn about things from Nyssa about science, and Rose also loves to teach her about earth during her time.

The Fifth Doctor- puppy love. that’s what it is. they would have an almost childish love, the type that just gives and gives freely. they would argue very little, yet when they do they make up almost immediately.

Turlough- Rose would definitely figure out what he was doing with the Black Guardian, and change him earlier than cannon. they would have a fun little sibling bond, making fun of each other and making jokes a lot.

Peri- gossip and joke buddies. the two make fun of the Doctor, that random dude who was rude, you name it. they share fashion advice, and Rose beats people up while Peri yells at them. it’s a nice little match.

The Sixth Doctor- they would absolutely have the same relationship as Rose does with the Ninth Doctor, that joking around one with the undertones of something completely serious between the two.

Mel- Rose would definitely eat shit food just to spite her off, then feel bad about it and either do one of her workouts or eat something she made. it’s a daily occurrence.

The Seventh Doctor- they would have a mix of Three and Two, a very old fashioned type of love but the mix of flirting everywhere they go. all the time. it pisses of Ace a lot.

Ace- an older sister type of role, Rose constantly blowing up stuff and beating people up with her. they would take down the government using nothing but their brains, their fists, and Ace’s homemade explosives.

The Eighth Doctor- very flirty-touchy-close romance. he constantly tucks her arm in his, or wraps an arm around her, or hugs her randomly. it’s more of Tenrose with a more innocent tone to it.

Grace- they would be friends. not terribly close, but when the Doctor would do something weird or stupid they would exchange a glance of shared amusement and tiredness.

And I know there’s more, but I haven’t heard the audiobooks yet so I don’t want to make any assumptions.

#doctor who #the doctor #classic doctor who #classic who #tardis #ian chesterton #harry sullivan #sarah jane smith #barbara wright #rose tyler #rose tyler x the doctor #timepetals #susan foreman #grace holloway #the eighth doctor #the first doctor x rose tyler #the eighth doctor x rose tyler #ace mcshane #the seventh doctor x rose tyler #the seventh doctor #the third doctor #the third doctor x rose tyler #tegan jovanka #nyssa of traken #the fourth doctor x rose tyler #the fifth doctor x rose tyler #the second doctor x rose tyler #victoria waterfield #jo grant #the second doctor

[valeffelees]

@youarenevertooold OMG HEY, YEAH, you may absoLUTELY see the potato frittata scene. 😄🖤 ok so, this comes from a zero draft of mine called The Malaise of Jealous Men and it is one of my absolute favourites, the writing is kind of rough 'cause again: zero draft, and the actual plot of this fic is a lot to explain, but the need-to-know leading up to this scene is just that at the beginning of eighth year Simon and Niall get assigned a project together and end up inadvertently becoming friends.

"Who was that?" "My sister." "You have a sister?" The corners of Niall's eyes crease—brown today, natural. Large and dark on his face, honeyed at the edges by the lights in the dining hall. "I have a twin, Simon." "You what?" "We're not close," he says, flapping his hand. Dismissive. Like Niall not being close to his sister explains how Simon could've missed the fact that this boy he's known for almost seven years has a twin he didn't know about. Simon asks, "Does she avoid you or something?” Then realises how shit that sounds and adds, “I mean, just. You know.” He shrugs. “I never see her in class with us." Niall pulls his wand from his sleeve and spells away the mess on the table. An ice-cold breeze bites through the room with it, the smell of salt and cold water, river weeds, ocean air. "We pick our schedules accordingly,” he says. “Signe was in all our first year classes with us but you were prob'ly too busy trying to tie Basil's shoelaces together to notice." Simon folds his arms. "We aren’t that bad." Niall quirks both of his eyebrows up. "I mean,” Simon says, “not first year." "You sure as shit were," he snorts, and his smile is back. Long and narrow, sharp enough to cut glass. "First year was the worst—no, wait. I take that back. Fifth was fucking awful. You’re a loon, by the way." "Oh fuck off, mate, Baz is the one who—" Dev slams his tray down on the table. An apple bounces off the corner. It rolls forward, slowly. Bumps up against the side of Simon’s teacup, then sits and wobbles there for what feels like an impossibly (and, frankly, unnecessarily) long time before Niall reaches over and sets his hand on it. His fingers curl a ghostly shade of pink around all that bright green skin. Simon lifts his gaze, moving joint by joint from Niall’s wrist to his elbow, from his elbow to his shoulder, from his shoulder to his face. He’s grinning at Dev like a cobra, that razor-blade mouth of his turned downright feral. “Oi,” he chirps. “Fuckin’ cat drag you in or what?” Dev doesn’t look like Baz much. They’re cousins—or, Simon’s pretty sure they’re cousins. Cousin-adjacent, maybe. Probably something stupid like fourth cousins twice removed with two sugar and chips on the side or however the fuck families work when you’re rich and posh. But where Baz is all sharp and tall and cold, Dev is... just, not. He looks like Baz with a tablespoon of honey and splash of milk stirred in. Short and bird-like, warm. His hair is a dark shock of feathery brown and his skin is the deep, blushless golden tone of a dry grassland. He’s glaring across the table at Simon from beneath heavy, black eyebrows like he wants to shove him down a flight of stairs. (That might be the one thing he and Baz do have in common.) "Hi," Simon says, awkwardly. Dev sneers. (Make that two things.) "Look," he hisses, pulling out his chair. He sits with his elbows spread to the sides of his tray, leaning forward on them, "this is weird and I hate it, but I'm not sitting across the dining hall alone while you two cunts cuddle up over fucking tea and biscuits or whatever the fuck this is, so let's just skip the part where we make a big deal out of it." Simon looks down at his plate with a confused frown. “This is potato frittata.” Dev’s face does something funny. Twists a bit, like he's in pain. Or smells something rotten. Or like he's in pain while smelling something rotten. He says, “Niall.” “Well,” Niall replies, and takes a loud, crisp bite of Dev’s apple, “he’s not wrong.” “Niall.” “Are there biscuits?” Simon asks, glancing over at the serving station. He stands up. “I didn’t see any biscuits.” Niall nudges his shin under the table. “Sit,” he says. “There ‘re no biscuits.” Simon does. “Niall!” “He does this sometimes,” Niall tells him. “Just give 'im a sec, he'll get over it.”

#me [slamming my niall simon and dev dolls together]: THEY'RE FRIENDS THEY'RE FRIENDS THEY'RE FRIENDS! :D #valen and the void

[digital-roots]

the copperbottom x toppat!sweetheart from the swapmirror au is rotting in my brain rn auagghhhhh its like a cursed amulet i clutch close to me despite the curses it beholds

theres just something so. fucking beautiful with having this guy who's whole worldviews a jaded shade who crosses paths with a sincere and all-loving person who chooses kindness, something she knows is a good asset of leadership, even though everyone else thinks she's weak for doing so. And the fact that uhm reg c literally falls for her because she loves him for who he is and without having to earn that approval???? good goddddddddsd i love "i love my wife" characters its awesome swag

i never really considered how sweetheart could love reg c though. hmmm... I think.... Terrence would just try to be nice to him at first, cuz she's nice to everybody. but i think she'd admire that he *also* cares about the successfulness of the clan. maybe even hints of his cleverness and his own leadership skills, she would really admire how confident and effortless he seems to be when in charge. A trait she wishes she could have both as Cowwoy Sheriff or in swapmirror Toppat Queen. But wouldn't like the bits of manipulative traits he has.

I imagine they kind of are at odds at first (but to the full blown rivalry of original suave vs reginald). Just that.... Reg c would think she's a weak right hand lady at first for not being more commanding and Sweetheart would hmph at Reg c acting all coy and sly about it. But then they see each other's strengths for the very thing they thought they didn't like and badda bing badda boom friendship time.

Reg c wouldn't think much about their friendship at first, only equating it to a simple partnership for Toppat operations. and then when Wilford dies and Terrence is upheld next for the throne, I feel like there's at least a few group of toppats who wouldn't respect her or see her as worthy enough. And that...... that kind of infuriates Reg c cuz HEY that gal right there is trying her best she is kind and sweet and actually *cares* about everyone's safety happiness and more and uhm Reg c kinda realizes he likes her more than he thought. Aughhh he'd be so loyal to her side as her right hand dude. Maybe then this is where they start their romance cuz welp might as well. Idk who confesses or if there even is one, but to me they just slowly build up on the romantic gestures for eachother the closer they are till they don't even realize they're practically dating at this point

--which contrasts reginald bronzepants being absolutely smithen at first sight and being absolutely hammy and leaving gigantic romantic gifts to woe terrence over

In both scenarios Terrence Sweetheart always just takes it so casually and happily too.

I think she plays with his mustache and kisses him on his cheek even when he's being a posh jerk. and then it makes him embarrassed. i kinda lost track of what im talking abt--- I think Terrence Sweetheart doesn't have any specific way of falling in love, she's usually just happy to be with people. And doing romance is as simple to her as just being invited to tea. So yeah if Reg c just asked or if they transitioned into romance casually Terrence Sweetheart will always be very accepting of it

AUGHHHHHH THEYRE SO BEAUTIFUL TOGETHER FUCKKKKKKKKK

Literally tho reginald c will just accidentally and slowly fall in love with someone and then 10 years later they realize theyre married to each other

He's like a wet cat who used to be a feral kitten that got bullied by adult strays and so now hes prone to biting and hissing people that take care of him. To Me

God Sweetheartt shes just so genuinely kind and nice in a way that is soooooo fucking crazy i love her so mach

#sootinmynose

[sailsonaseaoffate]

DWC February -  Day 6: Devoted

@daily-writing-challenge​

A calloused thumb would loosely rub along the ink of the black ring around an equally rough finger though the eyes that stared at it were a mix of time and artifice.  It was a simple tattoo, born of grief and carried just the same.  Years had faded it now and again, each time Zexx would return to the shops and they would apply the ink to darken it again.  A faded gray was coming to the edges of it now as he blinked his green and blue eyes in thought.

"Are you well, Captain?"  The posh aristocratic voice broke the revere.

"Hmm?  Oh, sorry Madame Granville didn't even see you come up here," Zexx would cough, using the same hand to cover his mouth as he stood up from his spot against the railing of the spelljammer.  As the cough receded he would do his best to turn on his usual grin as he looked to the giff standing before him now.

Madame Eloise Granville stood quietly in front of the captain of the Wayfarer, her thick arms folded calmly behind her thick back as she regarded him curiously with her gentle black eyes.  The dark brown leathery skin of the giff clean and well maintained fitting for a creature who had spent her life in some form of command during her former life with the militaristic wandering nation of to put bluntly hippo people.  Her staggering height of nearly nine feet and shy of half a ton made kept her imposing and strong.  But now she was dressed casually having cast her uniform aside and sword away in favor of a more peaceful life as she kept the almost comically sized guitar hitched at her belt much like her saber had always sat.  A fine peasant dress helped to show the femininity of her people that they did their best to hide in a male dominated society of soldiers and nobles.  'For King and Sky' as the rally would go.

Granville tilted her head curiously at 'not seeing her' as she shook it.  "I find that both disturbing and shocking that you would not be able to see me coming given my obvious traits, Captain."

"You know you don't have to call me 'captain', you can just call me Zexx.  We don't really conform to any kind of hierarchy around here," the hero for hire kept his grin simple as he rested his hands on his hips.

The giff gave a soft sniff of a laugh as humor seemed to light her eyes more than her face as shuffled forward to stand near the deck.  "That much was obvious judging by how your crew respond to your commands."

"My crew?  Don't let them hear you call them that.  To be mutinied by your company is one thing, mutiny by your kids is a whole other mess I'd rather not deal with."

They both laughed now, both with the same level of mirth if not the same tone.  As quickly as it had come though, so did it pass into an awkward silence.

Zexx of course broke it.  "What brings you up to the deck?  Fresh air?"

"I don't believe there is exactly air here in the depths of the sea," Eloise replied matter of factly.

"It's a figure of speech, madame."

"I know, Captain," Eloise her brow ridge rising in another subtle attempt at of a smile.  "But I am more curious why you're moping about up here?  I would think you'd have something to do or at least need to be with your 'crew'."

Zexx shook his head with a snort as he placed his hands on the railing to lean forward, his eyes lingering back to his finger.  "Fraid my 'crew' had their own plans today.  That run on Teetotaler shook them up quite a bit.  Don't blame em though.  Swimming with sharks is bad, but being chased by a feral sand army of thirsty sharks and raiders not what I expected from a simple pickup."

"They'll get over it.  Your girls are tough."

The hero nodded again as he did his best to look out into the swirling cosmos of the astral sea.  Eloise though was not done as she side eyed the human.  "But that's not what's really bothering you now is it."

"I suppose I do tend to wear my heart of my sleeve."

"Very much so, Captain," Eloise continued as she finally pulled her thick arms out from behind her to rummage in a pocket and drew out a large crooked pipe.  Her fingers working with timed and patient practice of filling the bowl.  "How long has it been?"

"Been?"

The giff motioned with the end of her pipe to his hand, before placing it in her mouth as she took a large match and struck it before beginning the slow process of starting the green smoke to pour from the bowl now.

Zexx didn't bother to try and hide his surprise at the giff's observation skills, but then being a former spelljammer captain herself it only made sense that her eyes were everywhere and anywhere.  "A long time.  So long I don't think I could really count the years if I tried."

Green smoke trailed about the dark skinned head as she nodded, choosing to remain silent as she tried to urge him to continue.

"It all happened so fast and," Candell's eyes now were focused on his tattoo again as he found himself opening up.  "Violently."

"One moment she was smiling and kissing me, the next she was saying goodbye without a word before being gone.  And in the end, it wasn't for anything.  We still lost.  I lost."

The final words hung in the air like the green smoke from Eloise, neither wanting to press or give more on that subject.  But with a jet of smoke into the hazy purple sky, the giff prompted the human again.  "Despite losing though, you seem to have come out on top."

"I don't really think being blasted into another plane of existence as winning."

"I wouldn't either, finding your loved ones shouldn't be considered a game.  Maybe more of a trial or test."

Zexx snorted at that notion.  "Would have been nice to try and prepare for it."

"That's not how it works."

"How does it work then?"

Eloise chewed on her pipe in quiet contemplation for a few moments before pulling it from her mouth as she gave her mouth a moment to recuperate from the start of her smoke.  "I could tell you that a hero's journey is fraught with peril and adventure that is supposed to have some kind of moral with an over arching plot to an epic conclusion."

The giff looked down now fully at Zexx with her black eyes as she continued.  "But this isn't a story.  It's your life.  And if you're waiting for the happy ending, you'll be waiting a lot longer."

The hero for hire reached up to scratch at the back of his head with a groan.  "I just want a break."

Eloise let out a chuckle and put her pipe back in her mouth.  "You sleep when you're dead."

"Ugh, I hate that saying," Zexx grunted as he pushed off from the railing.

"As do I," Eloise gave an agreeing tilt of her head as she watched the human move off toward the bridge of the ship.  "Zexx."

Candell stopped as he turned back around to look at Eloise with an surprised look to his face hearing her use his name.

"How long has it been?"

Zexx would reach down to his left hand and gently rub the fading tattoo with a sad smile.  "22 years."

"I'm sorry."

"Me too."

#februarydwc2023 #februaryday62023 #zexx candell #eloise granville #devoted #spelljammer #roleplay #daily writing challenge #sailors on a sea of fate #https://www.tumblr.com/blog/sailsonaseaoffate

[dwestfieldblog]

A PARTISAN APART

March...or die. Out of bed, scrambled eggs with crushed oat biscuits and cottage cheese, milk with chia seeds and a green tea. Thirty mins of basic exercise, then up to the shops for supplies… see newspapers with headlines such as ‘NATO warns of war with Russia in the next 20 years’. A cold war, leading to a nuclear winter? Depends on how long Vladimir the Bald lives. The way things are at the moment, WW3 could start in the next 20 months, but should he accidently fall from a window, poisoned for good measure or have his plane explode, peace in our time might be possible. Ha. As long as the Orange Reptile doesn’t win.

Diabetes type 2…so onto rabbit food and 10,000 steps a day regardless of weather. Walking is free and obviously I won’t be going anywhere near a gym. After my mother passed this time last year, I took refuge in the comfort of nightly alcohol, watching films and reading. Kept myself almost sane by staying busy gardening, emptying the house and taking stuff to charity shops. Some non-cathartic writing. No chocolate or pizza for 6 weeks and I am ready to kill the entire world. Let’s see if I can finish this without a stroke or heart attack.

Your country still needs you as cannon fodder…there is talk here (England) of reinstating conscription… (Good luck trying to get the teens away from Tik Tok addiction). Or else National Service…Instructing the ‘lazy and feral youth of today’ skills in weapons training and survival would be a fine idea. A sense of purpose and value, get their teamwork and hunter instincts honed in order to die for posh donkeys.…The Tories have been laying waste to our armed forces for a very long time (financially committed to the scrap metal Trident missiles, which will be deeply outdated by the time of service). So, a little late to build up an army, unless we do actually have twenty years. I don’t.

(A week after writing that, the UK test fired a Trident which crash landed close to the submarine from where it came.) Russia and China can seemingly disrupt our infrastructure with ease, so not sure what use there is for actual soldiers unless we hurry the SAS training programmes along. Perhaps they will be mostly needed to control the frightened population under martial law. I would certainly fight and die for those for whom I care, but not for a leader like the despicable Boris Johnson. I would be a partisan apart. Probably survive a week.

Speaking of that blathering blond dog egg, I see that not only does he fully endorse Trump but has written that his return to the presidency would be ‘a big win for the world’ and indeed just ‘what the world needs’. Imagine just how far up yourself you need to be to think this bollocks and say it in public. An avaricious sycophant pound shop version of the orange reptile, both believing that anal vanity and bluster are enough to enforce their mutant rape upon the world. Compare this with the cold and careful step by step planning of Russia and China over the last few decades, now at stage 4 of a five-stage cancer. Since Merkl left, there seems to be nobody in Europe with any balls. ‘I would encourage them (the Russians) to do whatever the hell they want’. Said Trump about NATO countries recently. Imagine the line I want to write now.

A plethora of important global elections take place this year, which will most likely immediately determine the course of hundreds of millions of lives…and millions of dupes will believe deepfakes and misinformation. Rubes, hungry for the next conspiracy to explain why things are becoming ever more distorted and insane, blaming it on the wrong groups and sources, ever more scared and angrier. A UK conspiracy theory newspaper ‘The Light’ plays host to (among other similar types) Alpha Men Assemble (a Nazi band of incels) and the usual racists ranting about nanobots in vaccines and how doctors should be executed. Yes really. Morons funded also as usual, behind the scenes by the Kremlin to push disinformation to undermine the country they claim to love. Wide eyed in idiot faith or ranting with wild righteousness… ‘How could they?’ ‘Why are they…?’ Why ask? Not much is confusing about greed and desire for power.

‘Community notes’ on twitter…the very artificially intelligent Sunak praised the almost virtually real Elon Musk for the idea that tweets could be commented on as ‘the wisdom of the crowds’. ARF. Now both men are unhappy at the factual corrections various denizens of X are making on their posts. Aww, diddums. The exciting journey of ‘transforming the global town square’ (uuuf) continues apace with visons of honest and accurate information for the masses. ‘See dissimilar posts’, ha ha. Musk said last month that his Neuralink company has implanted one of its wireless brain chips in a human. A human. This will be great news for those who are paralysed due to various conditions, to help them move again, but he has posted that the first product will be called…Telepathy. Control your devices, just by thinking. No military uses there eh?

Popular Cons…The smug and condescending Prime Minister Rishi being verbally attacked by (shorter shelf life than a lettuce) former PM Liz (say it again, 44, count them, FORTY-FOUR days in office) Truss must be like having your leg humped by a chihuahua, slightly adorable but pathetic and irritating. She sanctimoniously nagged him for not dealing with ‘left-wing extremists’… of which there are obviously hundreds of thousands in this verdant and septic isle. Seen any rabid Marxist-Leninists recently, outside of revolutionary student common rooms in university? (Reminds me of the Communist Reform Action Party, started by a friend as a joke in high school…he is now a bald lawyer apparently.) Liz Truss is a member of the Popular Conservatism movement. That’s right, literally. Popular. Featuring an utterly reprehensible bunch including Rees Mogg. Pop Con. Indeed. A group for whom fascism isn’t right wing enough. The absolute sewerage of the conservative party.

She recently attended a CPAC (Conservative Political Action Conference) gathering in America (featuring bullfrog Orban’s folk and Nigel Farage) with the ever-lovely legal Steve Bannon, where he praised convicted criminal racist Stephen Yaxley Lennon, sorry, geezer Tommy Robinson as a ‘hero’ and she refused to condemn the remark. Liz gave a speech saying she wasn’t to blame for the THIRTY BILLION pounds she cost Britain in her darling mini budget. No, her downfall was caused by, (drum roll and fanfare please) …the Deep State. Desperate to stay in the limelight as Trump’s English booty. Also present at the blathering of the clans was The Happiness Realisation Party, the political wing of the Happy Science cult…They agree with Putin’s invasion of the Ukraine and identify as (guess what) …radical right. They believe their leader to be the incarnation of a supreme being from Venus. Verrry sane.

These types, along with Trump, Orban, Wilders etc, say they are part of the (don’t laugh) ‘anti-establishment’ rise against the shabby parties and leaders in democracies in the name of free speech…as long as it is speech with which they agree. The idiots are always the loudest on all sides, unfortunately this means they get heard more…and the ‘wisdom of the crowds’ convinces ever greedier, shallower and insane politicians that their hour has come at last. Democracies have vomited up these dregs as ‘straight talking’ maverick characters to appeal to the disenfranchised. IE, right wing white males and Karens. Give them five years in power and they will become just another establishment, but this time with their masses convinced, that in spite of worsening economic and social situations, that they are at last being spoken for by genuine representatives.

Say it again… the countries in the West are being brought down by the very nationalists who consider themselves to be ‘patriotic’, too emotionally invested to see how they are being manipulated by the East. This is being done via troll farm propaganda, encouraging crises of refugees, financing Brexit and the idea of ‘independence’ only to weaken and split unions, be it gender, the UK, Europe or NATO. Our worst attributes are being amplified and extended by enemies in order to hollow us out from the inside and by our populists in order to gain power for themselves. Hexagram 23 for the West.

Brexit has had almost no tangible benefits whatsoever for Britain, the deals made with other countries are risible (0.08 percent increase) and years on, still nothing firm in place with America or India etc. Immigration from non-European countries has vastly increased, the brain drain continues and fewer of our former allies come to study or work. The Tories have been in power for 14 years, ergo, it really is all their fault. Brexit, the endless failure of trade agreements, rising taxes, the vanishing public services, disintegration of the NHS, the deadly reaction to covid, a desire to leave the European Court of Human Rights in order to legalise the illegality of deporting immigrants to Rwanda (where their government beats to death its human rights defenders) …they are to blame. Not the homeless, the moronic woke nor the hidden rabid socialists, but the right wing, wilfully misinterpreting what democracy means.

At what point will it be truly understood that if you educate the massed populace of your country to be less than intelligent, that asking them serious questions about vital matters on which to vote will never end up with sane answers, but responses based on emotion, not understanding facts. Brexit has served only the same types that always thrive, chancers, fixers and scum. Education begins at home; however, parents are too exhausted from just trying to survive, poor diet and endless shocks from the news. Most Western copycat kids are on (anti)social media, addicted to poison, monkey see and monkey do.

Lifeless in Gaza…the death toll so far, 30,000 Palestinians dead and over 1,500 Israelis. Benny needs replacing, no dummies, that isn’t antisemitic. Pay close attention to Transnistria, Putin’s gateway back into the next occupied country.

Rational paranoia, but I keep having a feeling that the West as it is, will fall and the East who have been getting away with mass murder will control the world. The rich will just do business with each other and use all others as slaves…i.e. just like now, but far worse. When the Dreamer becomes a realist, they have temporarily lost the ability to sidestep across and reconnect. They have forgotten that daily practice is literally vital. It is very easy to be distracted by ‘normal’ life, but then daily existence becomes only that. I now seem to be undoing my self-programming and losing the discipline due to typical reactions to circumstances. Temporarily forgot what I learned and knew, which was…

… ‘it depends on which channel is tuned in…it depends on what we choose to watch!’ ‘An infinite number of channels but no set can play more than one channel at a time, so each one’s convinced it’s the only channel there is!’

‘Have you ever felt so at one with the world, with the universe, with everything that is, that you were overcome with love?’ ‘That is reality, that is the truth’

Focus up.