#no longer than ten words each lmao

[valeskafics]

"Devil's Eyes" - Michael Myers!Aemond Targaryen x Reader (Modern AU)

a/n: this ended up longer than i thought it would lmao enjoy hoes 🤭

Summary: Eight years after murdering his family, Aemond Targaryen makes his way home to King's Landing on Halloween to find you, his childhood best friend.

TW: DUBCON, DARK!AEMOND, profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, afab reader, murder LIKE FULLY DESCRIBING MURDER, death, p in v sex, fingering, oral f receiving, tiddy succin, mask kink lol

Word Count: 5,250 words

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of the Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated ❤️

Halloween has always been Aemond’s favorite part of the year. This year, it’ll be more amazing than any Halloween yet, because this year? You and him get to go trick or treating without your parents. You’re both ten years old now, big kids. Aemond waits outside your house, waiting to walk to school with you as the two of you do every morning. He can’t wait for you to see his costume, he got it to match with yours and knows you’ll absolutely love it. He sees you wave goodbye to your mom and run out over to him, a bright smile on your face. You look so pretty, he thinks, in your pink dress and pretty tiara.

“Wow, you’re the prettiest princess ever,” he says happily.

You giggle, doing a little twirl for him to show off your costume, “Thank you, Aemy! Your costume is amazing! Wow! Did your mommy stitch it for you?”

Aemond nods proudly, showing off his dragon costume, complete with a mask, “I’m your dragon and I’ll always protect my best friend,” he says, adding a roar to emphasize his point.

You cover your face and pretend to cower in fear before laughing, holding his hand in yours as the two of you begin the walk to school, “I heard Baela say that there’s a neighborhood giving out full size candy bars!”

Aemond’s jaw drops, “Full size candy bars? That’s awesome! Let’s start there.” The two of them walk in comfortable silence for a long while until Aemond speaks once more, “Have you ever kissed a boy?”

You wrinkle your nose, “No. Boys are disgusting. Except for you.”

He grins, “Would you kiss me?”

You ponder the thought of kissing him for a minute before nodding, “Yeah, I guess.”

You sit beside each other in class, as always, ignoring Aemond’s cousin, Jace, and Jace’s best friend, Cregan, who snicker at the fact that Aemond is holding hands with a girl. You turn and give them an annoyed glare.

“Aemond’s getting his first kiss tonight. Maybe if you weren’t such buttholes, you’d have girls wanting to kiss you too,” you say, sticking your tongue out at them, earning a burst of laughter from your best friend and a scowl from the two boys seated behind you.

Your assignment for art that day is to draw a picture of your Halloween plans. You immediately begin drawing a picture of you and Aemond, in your costumes, holding hands. Aemond, on the other hand, draws a picture of the two of you kissing. You smile when you lean over and look at his.

“We should trade drawings,” you declare, “So we can have each other’s and be best friends forever and ever.”

Aemond nods enthusiastically, exchanging drawings with you, holding the paper close to his heart.

After school, Aemond goes home to get ready to go trick or treating with you. He sighs as he drops his backpack by the door. His stepdad, Criston, is drunk on the couch, yelling about something or the other. He’s always so angry, Aemond hates it. He hates Criston. Aegon is up in his room probably hooking up with some girl from his school since he’s a big kid and in high school. Aemond grabs his pumpkin to place all his candy in and pokes his head into Helaena’s room, wanting to say bye to her.

“Hel? Criston is yelling-”

“I’m busy, Aemond!” she panics, slamming the door shut, her room smelling suspiciously of marijuana.

He sighs, “Sorry… Bye,” he trudges down the stairs, checking to see if Alicent is still around, wanting to see his beloved mother before leaving, but Criston is there to smash those dreams quite quickly.

“Your mom’s working late, you little shit,” Criston says, taking a long sip of his beer, “Grab me another fucking beer.”

Aemond grits his teeth and does as Criston says, rolling his eyes when Aegon comes downstairs, only wearing his sweatpants, and smirks at his little brother, “You going trick or treating with your little girlfriend, twerp?”

He gives his older brother a glare, eyes flickering with hatred as he hisses, “Yeah. I am.”

There’s a knock at the door and Aemond knows it’s you, practically tripping over his feet in his haste to get away from his family. He hates all of them. The only people who care about him are you and his mom. The kids at school make fun of him for being so quiet, but you always stick up for him. Jace and Cregan are always the ones to start it, even though Jace is supposed to be his family.

The two of you go around collecting candy, waving at Baela and her twin sister, Rhaena, when you see them trick or treating with Sara Snow. Everything is going great at first, the two of you getting massive amounts of candy, until you bump into Jace and Cregan.

“Aw, look, it’s the pretty princess and the ugly dragon,” Jace snickers, dressed in his Buzz Lightyear costume.

Cregan smirks, dressed up as a knight, “Time for the handsome knight to slay the ugly dragon, huh, Jace?”

Before either of them can do anything to your best friend, you grab Aemond and run all the way back to your house, right next door to him. Too shocked by your speedy departure to react, Cregan and Jace just stare after the two of you before shaking their heads and going back to bullying some of the other kids. You and Aemond stand in front of your front door, out of breath, laughing at having outwitted the two bullies.

“It’s almost ten, we should stop for the night,” you sigh, “Goodnight, Aemy! You’re the bestest best friend ever and I love you!”

Aemond blushes slightly and repeats, “I-I love you too. My princess.”

You turn to enter your house, but before entering, you turn around and peck Aemond on the lips, giggling before rushing back in, closing the door. Aemond stares after you, a hand pressed to his lips as he smiles, feeling the warmth of where you touched him, walking back home with a spring in his step.

He goes up to his room and lays down on his bed, a smile on his face as he thinks about that sweet little kiss. He wonders if you’ll agree to be his girlfriend. He thinks you will. He’ll be the best boyfriend ever for you, he knows it. 

Then, he hears Criston screaming for him to do Aegon’s chores. Aemond frowns, walking down the stairs and seeing the complete mess Aegon has left the kitchen in. There are dirty dishes in the sink, trash all over the floor, and even some of Helaena’s joints on the floor. It’s filthy. He walks back up to his room and hears Helaena talking on the phone to a friend.

“Gods, my little brother is such a freak, Floris, you’re so lucky Royce is cool.”

And in that moment, something inside Aemond snaps. He grabs his mask from his room, placing it on his face once again, before walking back to the kitchen. The plus side of having an absentee mom and a stepdad who doesn’t give a damn about him? The kitchen knife is sitting there on the counter, ripe for the taking. He picks it up, admiring how his mask looks in its reflection, before walking over to Criston, who lays drunk on the couch, watching a football game. And with how out of it the man is? It’s very easy for him to cover his mouth and slit his throat.

He goes to Aegon’s room next, finding his brother passed out on his bed, and makes quick work of him as well, stabbing him over and over and over, taking out every bit of frustration he’s ever felt toward the older boy, watching the light fade from his eyes with nothing short of delight. He gives Helaena a much quicker death, stabbing her once through the throat, before heading out to sit on the front steps of the family’s house, a blank expression on his face, the knife still in his hand.

When Alicent comes home and sees him, covered in blood, she panics, wondering what happened to her baby boy, pulling the mask off of him. She enters the house and lets out an earth-shattering scream of horror, immediately dialing 911 and watching in despair as the police push Aemond toward a police car. He isn’t crying, he isn’t freaking out.

He’s calm. Chillingly so.

It’s only when you come running out of your house, barreling toward him, trying to push past the cops, “Aemy!”

You manage to squeeze past them, embracing Aemond tightly, crying into his shoulder. He rubs a hand up and down your back, murmuring that it’ll all be okay. That he promises he’ll see you again.

Then, he’s shoved inside the back of a cop car and driven away, gazing back at you until you’re little more than a speck in the distance.

After one of the longest trials in Westeros’s history, Aemond is found guilty of three counts of first-degree murder and sent to Smith’s Grove Sanitarium, placed under the care of child psychologist Dr. Larys Strong. The only thing he keeps in his room is the drawing you gave him and the materials for the papier mache masks he has begun fixating on making. Aaemond initially cooperates with Dr. Strong, who reports his progress to his mother, who visits regularly.

But over time, Aemond becomes dissociative. His only thoughts are of you. He ignores anyone and everyone, refusing to speak, and going silent entirely. Dr. Strong leads Alicent out into the hallway during visiting hours to discuss this, leaving Nurse Marlow in charge of watching the young boy. However, the minute they leave the room, Nurse Marlow begins scolding him, calling him a little monster. A small smirk plays on the young boy’s face and he lunges at the woman, stabbing her with a fork, over and over, claiming his fourth victim. She slashes blindly at him with her pen, leaving a long gash along his eye. He hardly even feels it, so blinded by rage and pumped up with adrenaline as he watches the light leave her eyes. He can hardly even feel the blood dripping down his face, hardly realizes the way his vision in the injured eye blurs, never to improve again.

That night, Alicent gleans through an album of family photos. She’s surprised by a knock on the door. It’s you, your eyes red from crying.

“Mrs. Targaryen, when is Aemy coming home? I miss him…”

Alicent doesn’t know what she can tell you. She closes the door, packs her things, and leaves King’s Landing forever, ashamed of the monster she raised.

She never speaks to her son again. She only leaves him a letter that you left in their mailbox.

Dear Aemy, 

I miss you lots. I hope you get out soon. We should kiss again.

I love you!

He pins it on the wall of his cell, right beside his masks and the drawing you made that Halloween.

For the next eight years, Aemond continues making his masks and not speaking to people. Dr. Strong decides to move on with his life and close Aemond’s case. And Aemond? His thoughts are all of you. He’s an adult now and he’ll be moved away to some federal prison. He needs to break out of here and find you. He takes the drawing, the edges of it frayed and the paper yellowed with the passage of time, placing it in the pocket of his prison jumpsuit. He grabs one of his masks and places it on his face and puts his plan into action.

He kills the guards, the staff, anyone who gets in his way without mercy, stabbing and choking his way through Smith’s Grove, killing one of the ambulance drivers and stealing their clothes, changing into them, making sure he’s unrecognizable. He takes an ambulance and drives it all the way back to King’s Landing, to his childhood home, long abandoned. No one wants to live in the old Targaryen house after what happened there. He goes to his old room and lifts one of the floorboards, finding the kitchen knife from that night and an old mask. He gets rid of the one he’s wearing, placing this one on his face.

It’s time to reunite with you.

He waits till morning, watching from his bedroom window as you exit your house. You’re so beautiful and grown up, he can hardly stand it. He has a strange feeling in his stomach, a strange need to touch you, the swell of your chest, the curve of your hips, a feeling he doesn’t quite understand. There’s a hunger in him now, not the innocent love of your childhood. He stares at you intensely, waiting for you to walk further before going down the stairs and following you discreetly. He notices that you’re wearing a cheerleading uniform, the skirt hugging your ass with every move. What is this new emotion? Lust? Desire?

It feels a lot like need.

He continues following you, watching as two girls you greet as Baela and Sara run up to you, also in uniforms, linking arms with you as the three of you walk to school. His heart begins to beat faster as he takes in the curve of your lips as you smile, the way your hips sway as you walk. He can hardly stand it.

But when the two of you reach the school? He sees another boy run up to you, embracing you. And Baela acknowledges him as Cregan. His blood runs cold as he watches Cregan kiss you, embracing you tightly, pressing your body against his. He grits his teeth, rage bubbling up inside of him just like it did eight years ago. He resists the urge to walk over to Cregan right now and stab him and grab you then and there. He wants this perfect. He will wait.

You and Cregan separate, heading to your respective classes, kissing goodbye. Aemond keeps his gaze on you all the while as you disappear into the school building, into a classroom. He stands in the schoolyard, staring up at you, an intensity in his gaze that could frighten even the bravest of hearts.

Sitting in class, you feel a chill go up your spine, as though someone is watching you. You turn toward the window and see a figure in a blue jumpsuit and a mask, staring at you from what you can tell. You can’t see their eyes but you know they’re looking at you. You don’t look away, your skin prickling at the feeling of being watched like this. Your teacher calls on you and you turn away, answering it absent-mindedly before turning back to the window.

But the mysterious figure is gone.

After school, you say goodbye to your friends, and Cregan, laughing as Jace’s little brother, Luke, comes bounding over to you, talking your ear off like kids his age do. You’re babysitting Luke since Jace and Cregan have an away game and won’t be getting home until late. Jace and Luke’s parents are out of town for a business conference but will get home around ten so that you can leave. Your squad will not be cheering at this game since you have a competition tomorrow, so it falls on you to babysit your boyfriend’s little brother. Luke demands that you let him watch a rated R movie tonight as the two of you walk home and you roll your eyes, ruffling his curls and saying that if he behaves, you’ll let him. He gives you a cute little smile and a hug before running off toward his house.

You remain unaware of the masked figure watching you from a distance, as though he’s in some kind of trance, staring at you with a deep, unfettered hunger. Aemond longs to have your lips on his again, like they were for that one brief moment that fateful night eight years ago. He sees you pause as you walk by his childhood home, gazing at it thoughtfully, before continuing onto your home next door. Aemond watches you embrace your parents, telling them not to worry, that you’ll be fine being home alone after you return from babysitting.

Aemond remembers that your mother often forgot to lock the back door when the two of you were kids, feeling a sense of satisfaction when he turns the knob and it opens. He makes his way up the stairs to your bedroom, slowly but surely, making sure not to make a single noise. He can’t mess this up, not when he’s come so far.

You grab your costume and begin changing into it, humming to yourself. You’ve opted to dress as an angel, a pretty white number that hits you mid-thigh, clinging to your body in a way you know makes you look stunning. You can’t wait for Cregan to get back from the game so you can show him how amazing you look. You complete the look with a halo and wings, purchased from the local Halloween shop, doing a little twirl in front of your mirror, laughing to yourself. That’s when you hear your door creak open ever so slightly. You quickly turn to look at the source of the noise, frowning slightly. There’s no one there. Nothing. You remember when you were a kid how you used to be frightened by the noises the house would make at night, how your mom would tell you that it’s completely normal and nothing to be scared of. You continue staring at the door for a long moment before sighing and turning back to the mirror. You run your hand over the paper taped to your mirror, smiling softly, before shaking off the melancholy that threatens to take over. You fix your hair, grab your purse, and go back down the stairs, heading over to the Velaryon house.

Aemond stares after you as you go, cursing himself for nearly giving away his position. He almost ruined everything. It’s almost time, but not yet. He just needs to wait a little longer. And then you’ll be his. Then he’ll be able to touch you, to hold you, to taste you. He goes into your room to see what it was you were looking at. And taped to your mirror is that drawing. From that last Halloween. He feels his lips upturn slightly behind the mask and starts to breathe heavier as he exits your house, following you to the Velaryon home. He watches Luke open the door and let you in, dressed up as an astronaut.

As you carve jack-o-lanterns with Luke, you can’t help but feel like someone is watching you again. It’s that same feeling you had during class, and then again when you heard the door creak in your room. It’s unsettling, and you feel paranoid, especially when Luke teases you for being on edge when you jump after he speaks after a while. You shake your head, finishing carving the pumpkins, and set them out by the Velaryons’ front door. The sun is starting to go down, so you turn on “Nightmare on Elm Street” to watch with Luke, knowing that this will satisfy his desire for an adult movie without being too risque. The two of you settle down on the couch, a bowl of popcorn placed between the two of you, as you watch the film, turning the lights out.

And Aemond lays in wait, like a predator stalking its prey. He waits as the two of you watch your films, the sky growing darker and darker, kids running around the neighborhood trick or treating. The later it gets, the more impatient Aemond grows. When are you going to ditch this stupid kid?

When Cregan’s car pulls up, Aemond thinks it’s serendipitous that he’s wearing a costume similar to what Cregan is currently wearing. All he needs is to get him out of the way and grab that white mask. He watches Cregan park his car and then, in a flash, he’s behind him, dragging him away, his hand covering his mouth and nose, suffocating him. And then? When Cregan’s breath begins to slow and his struggling starts to cease? Aemond snaps his neck, a smile on his face for the first time in years. He grabs Cregan’s mask, getting rid of his own, and puts it on.

Soon afterward, Luke’s parents return, urging you to head home, that your boyfriend will probably be back soon too as Jace texted them an hour or so ago that they were on their way. As you walk home, most of the kids have already finished trick or treating for the night, the cool air nips at your bare legs, at your neck and face. It’s eerily silent as you walk, and you freeze when you hear footsteps behind you. You glance behind your shoulder to see if someone is following you and frown when you see nothing. You continue walking all the way to your house, entering through the front door and locking it, forgetting the existence of the back door once again.

Aemond waits for a few minutes and heads into the house after, watching as you walk into the kitchen to grab yourself something to drink. His gaze travels to your thighs, how he wants to touch them, to feel them wrapped around him. He moves closer and closer to you, creeping up behind you. He presses himself against your back, wrapping his arms around you, prompting you to let out a yelp of surprise.

“Cregan, you scared the hell out of me!” you laugh, approaching him and embracing him - gods, Aemond thinks to himself, you smell divine, “Aw, babe, you hate Halloween! Did you put on a costume just for me?”

He nods, his hand moving up to touch your cheek, remaining completely silent, watching as you lean into his touch.

“Aren’t you going to get rid of the mask so you can kiss me?” you ask, resting your hand on his chest.

Aemond’s breath hitches at the contact but he shakes his head, remaining silent. You sigh impatiently before lifting his mask just to reveal his lips and press yours against them.

You think to yourself as “Cregan” presses you against the kitchen counter, his hands on your waist, moving to squeeze your ass, that he’s never kissed you this intensely before. The boy is almost ravenous as he grinds himself against you, letting out a low moan as he kisses you. You have to admit that it’s pretty nice to have him this desperate for you, and the newfound dominance is pretty hot. Cregan is usually so sweet and gentlemanly, you love that he’s being a little rougher than usual today. You let out a soft moan as he lifts you up onto the counter, his lips moving to your neck, biting down on your soft skin. You wrap your legs around him, grinding up against him, your breath coming out in soft pants.

“My parents will be home soon,” you whisper, “We should go up to my room.”

Before he can react, you move to get rid of the mask altogether, slapping a hand over your mouth in horror as the masked figure is revealed.

“Y-you’re not Cregan…”

You watch as he reaches into his pocket to grab something, your heart pounding in your chest. You turn your face away from him, scrunching your eyes shut. You feel the stranger’s hand rest on your face, tapping your cheek, a silent plea to open your eyes. You do so reluctantly and are greeted with the sight of a drawing. One you made years ago for your beloved best friend, a promise to remain best friends no matter what.

You stare at the man in front of you, completely shocked for a moment, before whispering, “Aemy?”

He nods, remaining silent.

“But you’re in Smith’s Grove…”

He finally speaks, his voice hoarse and low after years of disuse, the rich timbre of it sending shivers down your spine, “I broke out last night. I’ve been watching you since this morning.”

Your breath quickens as he leans in and you ask, “In the schoolyard… That was you?”

He nods, “You’re perfect. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

You pause for a moment before you whisper, “Where is my boyfriend, Aemond?”

“I took care of him,” he says, moving his thumb to trace your soft lips, a shuddering breath escaping his lips as he feels them, “You don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

The implication behind his words hits you and you ask, “What the hell does that mean?”

“What do you think it means? Aemond all but growls, “He’s gone. He was in the way, he was ruining us. I took care of him.”

“There is no us-”

“Yes there is,” Aemond hisses, pulling you flush against him, so that you can feel how hard he is through the fabric of his jumpsuit as he rubs up against you, “There’s always been an us,” he says as he stares into your eyes - you notice one of his is completely clouded over, a long angry scar running across it.

But it just makes him all the more alluring. All the more dangerous as he rests his forehead against yours, hands moving to your back, down to your ass again, squeezing your supple flesh between his large hands.

“You belong to me,” he says, inhaling your scent deeply as he runs his nose along your cheek, “You’ve always belonged to me. It’s always been you and me.”

“That was a long time ago,” you protest, trying to squirm away from him, “We’re not kids anymore!”

He lets out a low groan as you move against him, feeling himself grow harder at the feeling, “No, we’re not,” his voice grows huskier as he nips at your jaw, reveling in the way you shiver against him, “You will never be anyone else’s. I won’t allow it.”

You blink back tears and manage to whisper, “Aemond, you need help-”

“I don’t need help,” he snaps, pulling you closer, “I need you. I need you all to myself so I can protect you. So no one can hurt you. I need you to be mine, baby.”

He presses his lips to yours, almost feverish in his intensity, as though he seeks to devour your very essence. You pretend to kiss back for a moment, resting your hands on his face, feeling him soften against your touch, before renewing your struggle, biting down hard enough on his lip to draw blood and shoving him away. Aemond gasps but lunges at you, pinning you to the floor, hand gripping your hair in his hands, tugging slightly.

“I need you, baby.”

“Stop calling me that,” you say, trying to slap him, writhing against him when he grabs your wrists with his free hand, pinning them above your head.

“Why?” he frowns, “You’re my baby, I’ll call you what I want to. I need you, I need you to be mine. Why can’t you see that?”

“I always wanted you to come back,” you say, a lone tear falling from your eye, “But not like this. I don’t know you anymore, Aemy!”

He shakes his head, “You know me better than anyone. So I can love you more than anyone. We were meant to be together.”

You gasp as he heaves you over his shoulder, ignoring your shrieks of protest as he carries you up to your room. You beat your fists against his back, screaming for him to let you go. But it’s as though nothing you do phases him. He tosses you onto your bed, immediately crawling over you. He rips your costume in two, exposing you to him, his good eye going wide with delight as he watches your chest rise and fall with each breath. He makes quick work of his jumpsuit and you hate the way your heartbeat speeds up at the sight of his bare body, his long thick cock swaying slightly as he palms at it. You’re frozen in place as you stare up at him, watching as he removes your panties, then your bra. He takes one of your nipples into his mouth, suckling at it, rolling it between his lips. You let out a quiet whimper as he moves to hold your wrists in one hand, the other moving to tease your pussy with one finger, just tracing it before pushing it inside of you, moaning against your breasts at how tight and wet you feel around the digit. His movements are frantic and unpracticed and desperate, but fuck, feeling him inside you is so different than anyone you’ve been with before. He adds a second finger then the other, pumping them in and out at such a fast pace that it has you nearly sobbing his name as he rubs up against your sweet spot.

You spill yourself all over his fingers and he wastes no time, letting go of your wrists, moving to sit on his haunches between your thighs, tasting your arousal. You cry out his name as he laps at your folds eagerly, spreading your thighs apart, tasting you. No matter how you squirm away, he pulls you back, wanting nothing more than to feel you against his tongue, to taste your sweet cunt. He moves the muscle in and out of you, moaning as he does, pulling away to bite down on your thigh gently as a silent warning before burying his tongue in your pussy again. You writhe against him as he continues licking you, his nose nuzzling against your clit. He feels the way your entire body tightens as he moves his nose against you and does it faster and faster until you mewl his name, reaching your peak again on his tongue.

And then? He gives his cock two slow tugs, staring down at you as he does before sheathing himself inside you. He’s so long and thick that it feels like he’s almost tearing you apart but it feels so fucking good. Your legs wrap around him of their own accord as he ruts into you, the outline of his cock visible against your stomach. The sight makes you squeeze around him, and he lets out a low growl of your name, increasing his pace, pressing down on the bulge, making you squeal his name. You grasp at the sheets, your hips rolling against his as he fucks you, the tip of his cock brushing against your sweet spot every time. He lets out a low moan as he spills himself inside you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, breathing heavily as you squeeze around him, reaching your own release.

Aemond’s body holds you in place against the bed for a long moment, breathing heavily.

You shiver slightly as Aemond pulls you closer, peppering your face with kisses, promising he’s going to take you far away from King’s Landing, somewhere no one will find either of you and you can be together forever.

And the worst part?

You want that.

You want to be with him forever.

“I met this ten-year-old with this blank, pale, emotionless face. And the blackest eyes. The Devil’s eyes.” - Dr. Larys Strong

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x you #aemond fic #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #prince aemond x reader #house of the dragon #my writing #modern!aemond x reader #modern!aemond x you #murderer au #halloween fic #murdermond #aemond oneshot #modern!aemond oneshot

[supernovafics]

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 4.2k words

warnings: explicit language, fluff, smut (minors dni), fingering (f receiving), protected sex

summary: in which after a long drive back from denver, you and steve are back in your apartment and can finally lean into the fact that everything has changed

author's note: i told myself that i was gonna take at least a little break after the last thing i posted for this series/universe, but then i got this idea and i had to run with it because i have no self control lmao Anyways! hope yall enjoy this!<3333

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Winter 1986

The first thing you noticed was that his hair was damp from his shower, and the first thing he noticed was the pajamas you changed into after your own shower; a simple black tank top and a pair of shorts because it was really warm in the apartment for some reason. 

You had initially come out of your bedroom to say a quick goodnight to him. It was almost eleven and after driving back home from Denver— a drive that actually felt a lot longer than the initial one— all you wanted to do was sleep for at least the next ten hours. You had especially been craving your bed at home during the final hour of the seventeen-hour car ride.

However, now you were looking at Steve and he was looking at you, and it seemed as if the current set of circumstances you were in hit you both all at once. 

You were completely alone for the first time since things changed, since you both jumped into being something more with each other. You hadn’t even kissed since that first night— although you both had desperately wanted to— because the timing was never right. A movie night led to all of you falling asleep in the living room Saturday night, and then Sunday night mainly consisted of you all trying to get as much sleep as possible to prepare for the long drive back home. 

Now it was Monday night and there was absolutely nothing bad about this timing. Even the exhaustion you’d felt before you took your shower and washed the entirety of the day away was long gone. 

You joined Steve in the kitchen where he was drinking a glass of water. “Hi.” 

“Hi,” He said as he set the glass down next to him and you leaned back against the counter across from him. 

That short exchange was the extent of the conversation at that moment. You could’ve shifted it in absolutely any direction right then— mention picking Harold up from Dustin’s house tomorrow since he’d been taking care of the hamster for the past few days, or even randomly talk about how you two would be back in your Film & TV history class tomorrow and you’d forgotten to do the reading— but you didn’t want to say any of that. 

After these last few days of pretending that everything was normal between you two around Robin and Eddie, it felt almost unbearably obvious what you both wanted to happen right here in this moment. But neither of you made any move to do it; maybe it was a little game of “who’d do something first?” that you two were unspokenly playing right then. 

Your eyes flickered down to his lips for the briefest of moments and you could feel your cheeks warm at him taking in the entirety of your form; the simple tank top and pajama shorts you put on with the initial thought that you’d be going to sleep soon after you did— now sleep was the last thing on your mind. You suddenly felt so exposed, but at the same time, you didn’t really feel that shy under Steve’s gaze. 

Still, though, you were feet away from each other, and neither of you took the plunge into finally acting on everything you’d wanted to for the last couple of days. 

“This feels kinda weird, right?” You abruptly asked. “It’s the first time we’re entirely alone. And we actually don’t have to pretend that nothing has changed between us.”

“A little weird, yeah,” Steve answered as he finally stepped closer to you. “But, also, not really.”

He closed the entirety of the distance between you two and his hands found your hips. You could only smile up at him at first. The warmth from his touch made you inwardly sigh in contentment, and it made you want more.  

“Actually, you’re right. This isn’t weird,” You decided with a quick shake of your head. “Just different. Good different.”  

“Good different,” He agreed with a nod, smiling back at you. 

One of his hands came up to softly cup your cheek and you instinctively leaned into him, letting your eyes slip shut as he dipped his head down toward you. Your noses brushed and his lips ghosted over yours just for a second. It was slow and teasing, and you knew that he was doing it on purpose, dragging out the moment that you both had been craving since the first time it happened in your bed at the cabin. And at first, you didn’t mind it— his lips pressing against the corner of your mouth and then against your other cheek and then your nose— you could see yourself wanting every single kiss you shared with him to be as drawn out and as sweet as this felt. 

But then the anticipation became too much, and you were desperate to have his mouth against yours, so after his lips landed on your forehead, you whispered a soft and pleading, “Kiss me, Steve,” and you didn’t need to say it twice. 

From there it was as if a flip was switched and there was no longer anything slow about this moment. His mouth was against yours and you hurriedly kissed him back, already reaching up to thread your fingers through the damp hair at the nape of his neck. 

Just like it had that first night, this kiss felt so right and damn near perfect. You inwardly smiled and let out a happy hum against his lips, not wanting to pull away just yet although you could already feel yourself getting lightheaded. 

You pushed yourself up on the countertop with the help of Steve’s hands on your waist, only detaching your lips from his for the briefest of moments to do so, and then you gripped the sides of his t-shirt to tug him closer to you. He was standing right in between your parted legs and your chests were flush against each other, but that still didn’t feel close enough to you.  

There were probably a thousand things you wanted to say to him right then, mainly statements that would’ve started and ended with quietly muttered I love you’s. But, Steve fucking Harrington was a phenomenal kisser, and every thought you had in that moment seemed to vanish as soon as it came. He so easily turned you into a pile of want and need. 

You were able to catch your breath when he pulled away from your lips and tilted your head upward so that he could kiss along your jaw and then move down to your neck. When he pressed his lips against a particularly sensitive part of your neck, it elicited a soft whimper from you, and you could feel him smile against your skin in response. 

Steve pulled back to look at you, searching your face and seeing through you completely, he could probably easily read your current incoherent thoughts. 

Even though he was the one pretty much doing everything right then, he still looked just as fucked out as you felt; flushed face and disheveled hair, you couldn’t even remember running your hands through it or pulling at it that much in the past few minutes. It felt nice to see the effect you had on him too. 

One of his hands moved to your hip and started teasingly playing with the thin waistband of your shorts before slowly snaking its way inside of them. You sucked in a quick breath when his fingers made contact with the small wet patch at the front of your underwear. 

You were absolutely soaked, that didn’t surprise you in the slightest, but you still couldn’t help but shyly turn your head and look away from him. 

“You’re cute when you’re shy.”

You rolled your eyes and still avoided his gaze. “Shut up.”

Steve laughed at that. “Very, very cute, actually.”

You didn’t get a chance to say any sort of playful comeback to him because he started lightly teasing your clit through your underwear, which made everything you were about to say become lost on the tip of your tongue. His other hand moved to push the thin strap of your tank top off of your shoulder so that he could press a soft kiss against the skin there. Your brain was very close to completely short-circuiting, and you knew that he could tell that. 

You were barely able to keep your eyes open, but you finally met his gaze again. Instead of looking even the slightest bit smug about how easily he was making you fold with everything that he was doing, even with the subtlest of touches, there was only the sweetest look written across his face and it made you want to combust. It still felt a bit insane to you that any of this was finally happening in the first place. 

Steve’s hands hooked themselves into the waistband of your shorts and underwear. “Can I?”

“Please.” You were quick to nod at his question and were already lifting your hips a bit so that he could pull your bottoms off of you.

Your shorts and underwear were gone in one quick movement, hanging off your right ankle for barely a second before falling to the floor. 

Steve gave you a look that was so full of lust and adoration that it made you feel flustered all over again. It was a look that had never been reserved for you. But, now, it was, and you knew that it always would be if everything stayed this way.  

His fingers worked their way through your folds and teasingly traced up your slit. Your nervousness was immediately washed away when his middle finger slowly pushed into your entrance. The only thing falling from your lips was a quiet moan, and your hands found the edge of the counter and gripped tightly. Your eyes squeezed shut and you let out a louder moan when he added another finger inside of you. 

It all too suddenly hit you that it was him doing this to you right then— way too easily turning you into an absolute mess on his fingers. 

Your best friend. Your Steve. 

The softest laugh fell from your lips at the abrupt thought. 

“You okay?” He asked, and your eyes met his as you nodded because it was pretty much the only coherent thing you could do at that moment. 

You leaned in to press a quick kiss against his lips, but then your brain was once again reminding you of what was happening and you abruptly let out another little giggle.  

Steve gave you a curious look. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m okay, I’m good. And this is good too. Really, really good,” You assured him, somehow able to find your voice, even as his fingers continued their slow and steady movements inside of you. You let out a quick breath. “It’s just my mind keeps randomly reminding me that it’s you doing this right now, and that just seems so fucking surreal. Like, in a way, I kinda can’t believe this is happening. And none of what I just said probably even makes sense.” You let out another breath that turned into a moan. “Ah, but, anyway, I promise I’m so good right now. Really good.” 

Steve only laughed at your rambling and then pressed a soft kiss against your lips. 

His free hand found your hip again and he guided you to the edge of the counter so that he could hit a deeper angle with his fingers. 

“Shit, fuck,” You breathed out at the new feeling. You couldn’t even feel embarrassed at how quickly he was bringing you to the precipice and how quickly you were about to fall over the cliff because you just felt so fucking good. 

One of your hands let go of the counter and moved to find your clit; you just needed that little bit of extra pressure against the sensitive nub to fully send you over the edge. But, Steve was nudging your hand away before you could touch yourself so that he could do it instead. The pad of his thumb started stroking your clit almost too perfectly in quick circles and you had to bite your lip to keep from immediately screaming. 

“M’gonna come,” You were probably moaning too loud at this point, but you didn’t care. 

He kissed your cheek and then his mouth was right against your ear. “Go ahead. Come all over my fingers.”

His voice was low and could barely be heard over your moans and whimpers, but you still heard him perfectly. And with one particularly rough brush against your clit, you were squeezing tightly around his fingers and coming hard; heart pounding in your chest, ready to burst out of it completely, and seeing something equivalent to stars behind your shut eyes. 

“Fuck, fuck, Steve,” You whispered, head tilting upward as he continued fingering you through your orgasm, trying to prolong it for as long as possible. 

“You’re so fucking pretty,” He was smiling at you as you came down from your high and your bleary-eyed gaze met his. 

In that moment, you could only smile back and slightly shake your head at him in response. Your brain was now a complete pile of mush, to say the least. 

You let out a soft breath and leaned back, abruptly hitting your head against the cabinet behind you with a hard thud in the process. “Ouch.”

“Shit. Are you okay?” Steve asked as his hand came up to rub the back of your head and you leaned into his touch.

“Yeah,” You laughed a little. “I’m fine. It doesn’t really hurt.” 

“You sure?”

“Mhm,” You nodded as your eyes traveled downward and you saw how noticeably hard he was beneath the navy blue basketball shorts he was wearing. 

“Are you okay?” You asked, meeting his eyes again and smiling. You didn’t give him a chance to respond before you were reaching into his shorts and pushing past his boxers so that you could immediately wrap your hand around his length. 

“Jesus Christ,” He muttered as his eyes slipped shut and you leaned in to kiss his neck. You stroked his cock in a soft and teasing way and could only smile at the strained “Fuck” he let out.

“Is that okay?” You asked, lips right against his ear. 

“Perfect. Fucking perfect,” He answered in the quietest whisper before he dropped his forehead against your bare shoulder and then let out a soft chuckle against your skin.

“What?” You asked as you continued your slow movements. 

“You were right,” He said, letting out a quick breath. “This does feel so surreal. But, really, really good.”

You laughed a bit. “Told you.” 

After just a second, he pulled away from your shoulder and stopped your strokes by placing a hand on your wrist. 

You tilted your head at him. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t wanna cum in my boxers. I need to be inside of you,” He said, and you immediately nodded at his words because there was actually nothing more you wanted than that too.

The next few moments moved in a quick kind of blur, and when you would later look back on this entire night, it would feel as if simply fingers were snapped and one moment was switched to the next. Steve was lifting you off of the counter and bringing you to his bedroom after your soft words of, “We can’t do it here because we’ve ruined the kitchen enough for one night.” You were simultaneously laughing and kissing his face as he led you to his room, arms circling the back of his neck to keep you steady. 

He set you down at the foot of his bed and you moved upward. It wasn’t until your head was against his pillows and you were looking at him standing a few feet away from you that you noticed the difference between you two right then— he was still fully clothed, and all you had left on was your black tank top.

“This isn’t fair.”

“What?”  

You propped yourself up on your elbows. “I’m basically naked, and you still have all of your clothes on.”

He nodded at your words and then peeled off his t-shirt and slipped out of his shorts so that he was just in his boxers. “Is that better?”

You nodded and smiled at him. “Mhm, much.”

Your head fell back against the pillows again and he simply stared at you for a few moments, eyes traveling from your bare legs all the way up to the small smile on your face. 

“This slightly reminds me of that one game night we had at your house when we were sixteen.”

All you could do was laugh at the randomness of his words at first. “How can you possibly be reminded of Monopoly right now?”

“Not that night,” Steve said, laughing a little as he shook his head. He stepped into the bed and leaned over you, one hand brushing your side before settling on your bare hip. “The night when you invited some people from your school over too and someone suggested we all play strip poker.”

“Oh, that night,” You responded, quietly sighing in contentment at the feel of him tracing circles against your skin. You thought about the memory he was referring to. “That was the first time I saw you shirtless in a non-swimming or beach setting.”

He dipped down, nose brushing over yours before softly pecking your lips. “And that was the first time I ever saw you in just your bra and underwear.”

You playfully smiled up at him as you pushed a hand through his hair. “We really suck at poker.”

“Yeah,” He said, smiling back at you.

“And we both ended up making out with someone that wasn’t each other that night.” You weren’t entirely sure why you decided to bring that up when Steve was on top of you, settled between your parted legs with his boxer-covered hard-on pressing perfectly against your inner thigh. 

You almost regretted saying it for fear of ruining “the mood,” but then he was laughing and kissing you again. 

“And look at us now; finally making out with each other. Full circle moment.” 

You smiled again. “I think we’re doing a lot more than just making out, but yes, very full circle.”

You started playing with the hem of your tank top and Steve helped pull it up and off of you. He tossed it somewhere on the floor and one of your hands found the back of his neck to bring him toward you in a needy kiss. He pulled away after a second and started kissing along your jaw and then moved down to your neck, leaving deep red marks against your skin that you knew would probably be annoying to attempt and hide from your friends later, but you couldn’t really find it in you to care about that right then. You were tugging harshly at his hair, which elicited the softest sounds from him, as you let out your own contented hums because of how much you adored having his mouth against you. 

Everything felt so good right then, but it wasn’t enough. 

“I need you. Please,” You told him, hips bucking upward so that you could feel something more and Steve groaned in your ear. 

Your hands went to the waistband of his boxers, hurriedly trying to push them off of him. He moved away from you for a second, completely ridding himself of his boxers and then he started rummaging around in his nightstand drawer for a condom. 

Before this moment— Steve seconds away from being inside of you— things felt unreal and in some ways a little funny because of how surreal it all was, but now it didn’t feel that way at all. He was the one person that knew almost everything about you and now you two were doing one of the few things that you actually didn’t know about each other. Surprisingly, that didn’t worry you in the slightest or make you feel scared, and maybe that said everything you needed it to. Things felt so real and so fucking right, and that made you smile. 

“What are you thinking about?” He asked as he settled back on top of you. 

“Nothing, really. I’m just so happy this is happening right now.” 

“Me too,” He whispered before softly kissing your lips. 

When he slowly entered you, every thought was wiped from your mind and all you could do was moan at the feeling of him filling you up so completely. 

It was soft and sweet and everything in between. Steve moved slowly, pulling his length out of your dripping core until only the tip of him was inside of you before gently pushing back in. 

He swallowed your moans and gasps with his lips, and you couldn’t help but close your eyes, savoring everything you were feeling at that moment, even though you wanted to hold his gaze. 

“I love you,” He muttered against your warm cheek in between deep thrusts. He linked his fingers with yours and brought your intertwined hands over your head. 

At first, all you could do was nod in response because your mind was so far gone, but then you were finding your voice and whispering the softest, “I love you too,” in the darkness of his bedroom. 

Coherent words became lost from there, but with every haphazard and messy kiss that was shared between you two, everything was still conveyed. 

The nearly pornographic sounds of skin slapping against skin along with your moans and his groans filled the quiet. You both were probably being way too loud, and maybe now was when your neighbors would start hating you two, but it was hard to feel bad about it right then. 

Steve’s other hand suddenly firmly grabbed your hip so that he could push into you deeper, harder, which nearly sent you tumbling over the edge. 

“I’m so close,” You heard yourself whispering, and you weren’t sure how the three words were even able to form on your tongue. 

Steve’s hand moved away from your hip and started playing with your clit instead. 

“Shit, yeah. Right there,” You said and he continued his steady movements, not letting up in the slightest. 

Your orgasm hit you so abruptly, and you were coming around him with a loud cry before you could even realize it. How tightly you were squeezing his cock as you came only spurred on his own release. His forehead dropped against yours as he pushed as deep as he could inside of you and spilled into the condom.

Chest against chest, you found his lips in a slow kiss as you both came down from your highs and your collective breathing returned somewhat to normal. 

The exhaustion from the day was finally catching up to you and you were close to falling asleep, eyes already falling shut, but Steve’s warmth leaving your body woke you up. He was slipping out of you with a low groan and then getting out of the bed to toss the condom in the garbage can that sat in the corner of his room. As he did that, you maneuvered around so that you were underneath the covers and he joined you. 

Limbs became tangled beneath the blanket; his arms circling your waist to hold you close, your arms around his back and tracing mindless circles on his skin, and legs entangled. It was comfortable and perfect, and you were about to fall asleep just like that, but then an idea hit you.

Your eyes were shut and your face was buried in his neck. “We need to go on a first date.” 

You felt Steve’s soft chuckle against the side of your head. “We’ve already said I love you and had sex. I think we’re far past the first date.”

“We have to do it,” You told him. “And we should make it super cheesy and dumb.” 

“Fancy restaurant?” Steve asked, deciding to go along with the idea.

“Yes. And a movie too! Preferably, a very, very bad romcom,” You smiled into his neck. “Or, wait, actually I think a horror movie is much more first date appropriate.”

“Ah, yes, so I can put an arm around you and protect you from all of the scary scenes.” 

“Yeah, exactly. Even though it will probably be me doing most of the protecting because I know how you get with scary movies,” You said, and then let out a laugh when he playfully poked your bare side. “Oh, and we should dress up really nice for it too. I expect to see you in a suit, Harrington.” 

“Okay, well, in that case, you have to wear your prom dress,” He joked back. 

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, deal.” 

Steve held you tighter against him, pressing the softest kiss against your forehead, and you fell asleep to the feel of his steady breaths fanning against the tip of your ear. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fluff #stranger things imagine #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington series #stranger things angst #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things fic #stranger things series

[loaksky]

— 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴

the deets  — you are a warrior of very few words, yet oftentimes your gaze betrays you. this widens the rift between you and the eldest sully, but will seeking refuge with the metkayina soothe the burn? especially when the alleviation comes in the form of a certain ocean boy? 

the who — ao’nung x fem tipani!reader, a lil neteyam x fem!tipani reader

the word count — 7.1k (i thought this was gonna be longer, regardless i have zero self control)

the tags — slight e2l (you and ao’nung get off on the wrong foot), unofficial love triangle (reader has two people hooked lmao), angst (wouldn’t be me without a little heartache), fluff. 

the warnings — language, ao’nung’s a cheeky lil shit, neteyam’s in denial and makes things difficult. ao'nung gives reader a lil kith.

the notes — this is my first request! it took me a moment to finish this because i wanted to really research the tipani to characterize reader the best i could. similarly, i feel like we don’t see much of ao’nung past the point of him being a little shit in the movie, so i had to take some creative liberties regarding his character. thank you so much to the anon who requested! this is so long, holy shit, but i hope i did it justice! :) 

(also not proofread well, my bad lmaooo).

masterlist

YOU WERE BORN TO FIGHT. That was what your mother and father had told you day in and day out, from the rise of the sun, to the last eclipse. It was what they had told you when you began your training, when you had started to deepen your studies, and finally, when they clung to their final breaths in the smog of the burning jungle. 

Your village was scarce, a dying lot, as families broke off and settled farther into the jungle, high above the forest floors and into the canopies of the looming trees. 

Jake had heard about you, heard about your dwindling family, your mighty spirit. You were barely older than his eldest, just shy of ten when he’d taken you in, told the clan to revere you as their own. You were tough to crack, stoic, quiet, as you grew into a force to be reckoned with.

The only thing that chipped your facade came in the form of Jake Sully’s oldest son. 

Neteyam, you’d come to realize, was always the diligent one; courageous, firm, and commanded any space he occupied. But he was curious about you. Curious about the lone wolf who wouldn’t even bat an eye in his direction. He poked and prodded, tried as he might, to crack a smile out of you in the first year or two, but found that you gave little reaction. The slightest tilt of the corner of your lips, the most infinitesimal furrow between your brow bones. It was triumph enough, but then things started to shift. 

Though you’d softened around the Sully’s, especially Kiri who, despite being two years your junior, had doted on you like an older sister, Jake had seen potential in you and Neteyam as the fiercest duo. 

It was only normal to consistently pair you two during your training, forcing the hands of time to twine you closer together as your iknimaya drew nearer. You’d both succeeded with flying colors and it was the first time Neteyam had touched you, crushing you in a hug so tight, you felt the breath and the sense leave your body. 

You begrudgingly admit that from that moment on, you were wrapped around his finger. 

Your heart would swell dangerously behind your ribcage every time his hand would come up to pat your head affectionately, stomach twisting in on itself when he’d flash you a pearly smile after each successful hunt. Neteyam made you feel, and it thrilled and horrified you all the same.

But despite basking in the warmth of his company, of being intertwined so intricately, you still feel grossly misplaced.

The thought of letting him in on the fact that he’s swayed your heart leaves a horrid taste in your mouth. 

“It’s not like you to back down,” Kiri tells you as she helps you roll beaded tops and woven loincloths into the small satchel you’d designated for the flight to Awa’atlu. 

The humans were closing in and Jake was growing desperate. 

You stop, tongue in cheek as you settle back on your haunches. 

“Some things are better left unsaid,” you reply, hands clasping in your lap as you level Kiri with a soft gaze through your thick lashes. 

“Perhaps,” Kiri hums. “But will it settle well with you in the future when you think about your inaction?” 

You stiffen a fraction, knowing that Kiri’s insinuation is a heavy one. 

Will you be able to live without him knowing? Will it settle well when Neteyam courts another?

You doubt it will, but pride can be an ugly thing. You’d been taught by your parents, by your surroundings that reading into things farther than you must will only leave you scathed. You’re afraid to piece every lingering touch, every furtive glance, every sweet smile into something that paints an unwanted picture. 

“The worst he could say is no,” Kiri presses. “You are his equal, his dearest friend. You could never ruin that.” 

Kiri squashes every doubt you have with her encouraging words, so you take the plunge.

Neteyam is almost finished preparing for the journey when you poke your head into his tent, cheeks warm and blood pulsing erratically in your veins. 

“One last walk through the forest?” you offer.

Neteyam grins from ear to ear, excusing himself before ducking out of the tent to meet you outside. 

“Lead the way,” he gestures, voice deep like the velvet of the night sky. 

You’re clammy as you walk a few paces in front of him, tongue tied and wracked with nerves as the forest comes alive so brightly around you. The bugs chirp and croak as you cross over fallen logs and climb through the dense flora. 

You’re so deep in your head that you barely register Neteyam calling your name. It’s only when his hand clasps around your wrist that you jerk to a stop, neck craning to take in the concern that mars his freckled face. 

“Everything okay?” he asks, head tilting to get a better look at you. 

“I need to tell you something,” you blurt, swallowing down the courage threatening to escape your body. 

“Of course,” he says, hand lacing with yours. “You can tell me anything.”

A breath catches in your throat before you finally spill.

“I don’t know what our future holds, but…” you trail off, distracted with how intensely he gazes down at you. 

“But?” 

“But I know that I want you in it,” you say, blinking when you realize that’s not at all how you wanted that to come out. 

Neteyam’s head tilts again, this time confusion crosses his features. 

You try again. 

“What I mean to say is, I— well… I like you,” you admit, looking up to meet his golden gaze. 

His face softens and your heart picks up speed. 

“Oh, ________,” he whispers. 

“Maybe I’ve always felt like this, I don’t know,” you continue, steeling your resolve. “But being around you, being with you, makes me feel light. Like I don’t have to bear the weight of the burden all on my own.” 

You realize that this is beginning to go south when his mouth purses and instead of seeing you, he begins to look like he pities you. 

“I’m sorry,” is all he says as he pulls his hand from your own. “We’re friends, ________.” 

You look up at him and it feels like the forest has stilled enough for someone to strike it and shatter the peace. 

“That’s all,” he reiterates. “I’m— I’m flattered, don’t misunderstand. You’re great, lovely, but…I don’t see you in that way.” 

You recoil like you’ve been burned and Neteyam looks guilty. 

“But…” 

“C’mon,” he says, almost pleadingly. “We grew up together. You’re apart of my family. You’re like a si—“ 

“Don’t,” you whisper. “Don’t say it please.” 

Neteyam sighs, deflating. 

“I love you, you know that,” he urges. “But not in that way.” 

Your lips press together tightly, shame filling every available space within you as you feel like the most minuscule speck underneath his burning eyes. 

It’s like you’re both rooted to the earth, unable to part from the other, but you eventually fold first, backing away from his towering stance. 

“________,” he sighs, like you’re just another task he has to deal with. 

“Sorry,” you murmur. “I’m sorry.” 

And you steal off into the glowing forest. 

The waters of Awa’atlu glitter as you close in on the reefs. You lag behind the Sully’s, thoroughly taken by the prior night’s rejection. 

You almost miss the tilt of the voyage, falling even further behind. 

Neteyam peers over his shoulder, immediately noting your lack of focus as you fly with a wide berth between you and his family. 

He falls back. 

“You okay?” he asks over the flapping of wings. 

He notices the puffs underneath your eyes when your gaze flits to him, but like a wall erecting itself, your face goes blank. You lean forward on your ikran and press her to move forward. 

Neteyam is left at the rear now, watching you fall in tandem with Kiri who seems to light up at your first display of emotion. 

The sun gleams againstglinting blue tides as silence blankets the newcomers, the only thing piercing the stillness is the squawk of the birds and the ripple of the waves. 

You stand behind Kiri, staggered in a shallow of sand among the Sully's. You're the smallest of them all, hidden from view as the Metkayina begin murmuring. 

“What a freak.” 

Something tugs hard on your tail, and like muscle memory, your fist is flying. Your knuckles are caught before they strike and you look up into the foamy eyes of a towering boy whose skin is a gentle blue. 

You pull your tail back, ears flat as you level him with a nasty glare. 

The smirk playing at his lips disintegrates as Jake’s voice announces that his family are seeking refuge among the reefs. 

You turn your attention back to the front as the woman, fierce despite being with child, takes Lo’ak’s hand and thrusts it towards the sky, announcing that his extra finger denotes demon blood. 

The villagers gasp and you take a step forward, fists balled so tight you feel like they could burst through the skin. Lo’ak’s head is bowed, refusing to meet the intensity of the clan’s prying eyes, and you feel helpless.

Kiri squeezes your shoulder as Jake attempts to quell the crowd by hold up his own hands. 

The murmuring intensifies as the Olo’eyktan and Tsahik stand at a distance, staring at each other in a silent exchange. 

“Show them our ways,” the Olo’eyktan says after a final verdict. “So that they may not suffer the shame of being useless.” 

Your body is rigid, tense as another ripple of speculation flutters through the crowd. 

“My children will spearhead this by showing them the way of the water,” he says. 

A deep voice makes a noise of protest behind you and your fist tightens around the strap of the satchel slung across your body, temper beginning to tick like a bomb ready to detonate. 

The daughter of the leaders, Tsireya, is the one to show you to the marui that you’ll all occupy. It’s an empty one, uninhabited and clear of any belongings. 

Tuk runs in, tossing her things to the wayside as she begins her inspection. 

“Get settled in well, we will begin our first lesson before eclipse,” Tsireya smiles, then turns to you, trailing behind the Sully’s like their shadow per usual. 

“I’m sorry about Ao’nung,” she says quietly, and you look up at the girl whose dimples dent her rounded cheeks. 

“An apology means nothing if doesn’t come from the aggressor,” you say flatly, hiking up the roll of fabric tucked underneath your arm. 

Tsireya’s ears flatten, her smile faltering as she nods her head. 

“I suppose you’re correct,” she agrees. “The villagers are very steadfast in their ways. When change arrives, they are hesitant, but they’ll come around, promise.” 

She takes your hand and gives your fingers a squeeze. 

“Tell your friends not to be late,” she coos, pulling away from you to bound down the path you’d all come from moments before. 

When you turn, Neteyam stands before you, skin dewy under the unrelenting heat of the pounding sun. 

“Can I get this for you?” he asks, reaching for the items tucked under your arms. 

You ease away, almost as skittish as the first nights you’d joined the Sully’s all those years ago. You feel shamefully like you’re back to square one as you shake your head wordlessly and Neteyam looks down at you with an indiscernible look on his face. 

“________,” he murmurs, and you name sounds like a broken plea on his lips. 

You push past him, taking a quick survey of your surroundings as you claim the level up, hammock tightened around two support posts under a woven canopy. 

Your things are thrown haphazardly underneath the hammock and with your satchel, you’re steering quickly out of the marui. 

“Hey, kid, where you running off to?” Jake calls out. 

“Out,” is all you reply, steps quick down the unfamiliar webbing of the maruis’ woven walkways. 

You’re on edge all over again, like you have to restart all of your valiant efforts to feel any semblance of comfort among another new clan. When you’d joined the Omatikaya, you were able to grasp onto the slivers of belonging through blending into the background, but now, as you pass villagers with skin as glittering and blue as the ocean, tails strong, and figures built, you feel so grossly misplaced. 

You search for less, eyes falling near a swathe of shady trees and a shallow pool in the distance. 

Your pursuit is futile as three looming figures emerge and begin surrounding you, basking you in their shadows. 

“Are you a five-fingered freak like them?” One of them tries to swoop to grab your hand, but you recoil like their touch is acidic. 

“Leave me alone,” you grumble, attempting to push past them. 

Someone tugs sharply on your tail and you jerk back, hands and knees burrowing into the sharp grains of sand. A hand comes up to grab you by the top of your head, forcing your face skywards. 

His curly hair is braided out of his face, the purse of his lips menacing. 

“I asked you a question, weirdo.” 

You hiss and his face contorts. 

“I should—“ 

“Wune,” the voice is a warning. 

A grunt of annoyance. 

Wune lets go of your hair and pulls away from you. You all look in the direction of the voice, and your blood seems to curdle when you see the one who’d yanked your tail earlier in the day. 

Ao’nung.

His chin jerks in the other direction and the three pass each other a knowing glance before retreating, leaving you to fall into a seated position against the sand. 

You surprise yourself when tears begin to well in your eyes involuntarily. 

“You okay?” Ao’nung asks hesitantly, crouching in front of you. 

“Piss off,” you whisper, climbing to your feet as you quickly brush the tears from your waterline. 

“Wait—“ 

“I said piss off,” you hiss, stalking away. 

Awa’atlu is beautiful right before eclipse, sky bathed in orange and purples. 

You’ve rejoined the Sully’s after your encounter with the three Metkayina boys and Ao’nung. Now you’re seated with the four siblings, Tsireya, and another friendly face that you’ve been introduced to as Rotxo. 

“The way of water has no beginning and no end,” Tsireya says. “Our hearts beat in the womb of the world.” 

Your heart beats fast now, like you’ve just run from one end of the forest to another. It beats erratically under Neteyam’s unrelenting gaze. He looks like he’s dissecting you, trying to pry into your mind and you hate that things have come to this. 

You hate that one evening has shattered the careful friendship that you and Neteyam have built over the course of many tumultuous years. You want to find comfort in his presence, know with your soul that he’d tuck your hair behind your ear and tell you that things would be alright. But now you feel like you two are distant strangers. 

“The sea is your home, before your birth and after your death.” 

You want to argue that you know no home, that the wind seems to carry you where it may, but you bite your tongue and you zone out of her lecture.

You only tune back in when the hairs on the back of your neck stand at the arrival of a new body. 

“Mother and father say that it’s time to prepare for the evening meal.” 

After hearing the voice twice in the day, you recognize the timbre. 

Ao’nung stands tall, chest broad and eyes bright. 

They settle on you in an instant, and you feel indescribably smaller as Tsireya announces that she will continue during the morning’s eclipse. 

Everyone begins to stand, brushing the residual sand from their skin as they begin to file away. 

You’re startled to a stop when your name comes from Neteyam’s lips and a gentle hand latches onto your forearm. 

You look down to see strong fingers lighter than your own holding onto you. Then your gaze flits to Neteyam who stands a few feet away, words dying on his tongue. 

Ao’nung tugs lightly and you look up to meet softened eyes. 

“Can I borrow you for a moment?” he asks. He notices the apprehensive look on your face as you peel away from him, then adds, “I’ll be quick.” 

Neteyam opens his mouth to protest on your behalf, but you flash him a pensive look and he stops in his tracks, watching as you turn your slender back towards him and follow the lumbering Metkayina.

When the two of you are alone, you dig your toe into the sand, hands clasped behind your back as you wait for Ao’nung to break the silence and get on with it. 

“I want to apologize,” he finally says, when you’re out of earshot of the village and the curious Sully’s who’d noted the entire exchange. 

You look up at him, brow bone raised. 

“For?” 

“For being mean,” he says, “I was inappropriate.” 

“Is this your sister talking?” you ask crudely, but he doesn’t flinch at the venom in your tone.

Instead, he smiles down at you. 

“No,” he assures you. “One hundred percent me, promise.” 

You look down at your feet, still fidgeting with the sand. 

“I guess…” you trail off. 

“You guess?” he prods.

“I guess we’re okay,” you say hesitantly. 

Ao’nung hums. 

“Good,” he concedes. “Great. I’m glad.” 

You flash him a bored look through thick lashes and his lips twitch as he stares down at you with piercing eyes. 

“I can be dumb,” he says, grin widening. “My family says I don’t know how to act around nice things.” 

Your cheeks warm as you avoid his eyes, breaking away to catch up with Kiri and Tuk.

After dinner, in the quiet of the Sully’s marui, you lie in the hammock you claimed earlier in the day, hands folded underneath your head as you gaze at the stars. 

“My dad came from a star,” Lo’ak had said to you one night, eliciting the smallest of smiles. 

As you comb through each one, you burn to be up there. A digging desire to only know about shining bright and being wished so hard upon. 

There are nights like these where everything feels heavy, where your shoulders sag underneath the pressure of being a great warrior. You wonder what life could be like had the RDA spared your village, had you not gone off into the forest to hunt, had you—

He’s a barely perceptible shadow under the glow of the moon and ocean, slinking down the woven path between pods. 

Like a whisper of wind, you climb out of your hammock and over sleeping bodies. 

As you slip out of the marui, you don’t notice the pair of sleepy eyes on your retreating figure. 

Before he even knows what’s going on, you’re scurrying over the thick branches, following his path until he hits the intersection right before the Sully’s quarters. 

You jump down and intersect Ao’nung, hand coming over his mouth before he can shout in shock. His eyes are wide as you stand on your tip toes, other hand coming to your lips to gesture for him to be quiet. 

“What are you doing?” you hiss quietly. 

His fingers come to your wrist, nudging your palm from his mouth to reveal a beaming smile. 

“I was coming for you,” he admits. 

“Why?” you press, shaking his hold away when you realize that he’d still been grasping your wrist.

“Have you ridden an ilu before?” he asks. 

You shift uncomfortably. 

“No,” you answer shortly. 

“You wanna?” he offers. 

“No.” 

He frowns. 

“Swimming?”

“Pass.” 

“I have fruits,” he singsongs. 

“Ao’nung,” you warn.

“Is it so wrong to want to spend time with you?” he asks, hands up in defense. 

“Why would you want to?” you ask accusingly. “Your village sees us as demons and I’m included in that whether it applies to me or not. I’ll stay out of your way, just leave me alone.” 

“I don’t think you’re a demon,” Ao’nung says gently. “If anything, I- I think you’re great.” 

“You don’t know me,” you spit. 

“I know enough,” Ao’nung says with finality. “I know that you are strong and your spirit is kind. Ewya has let me feel as such.” 

Your expression is lethal, but Ao’nung doesn’t back down. 

“One night,” he says quietly. “Spend one night with me.” 

The following silence stretches eternally before something magnetic pulls you towards Ao’nung’s honeyed gaze. You chance a glance over your shoulder, met with stillness and the minute laps of the ocean on the shore. 

When you meet his eyes again, you nod once, hesitantly, and he’s taking your hand to tug you into the glowy night. 

Ao’nung returns you before the sun rises, a few early risers giving you two curious glances as he walks you to where you’d ambushed him the night before.

You wave to him hesitantly, sighing in relief when you you creep back into the marui and find everyone fast asleep, splayed over one another like a big heap. 

You climb over limbs and snoring bodies, finally settling in your hammock to watch the beginnings of the eclipsing sun brighten the village. 

You don’t notice the same bleary eyes watching you from where he’s laid on the floor, Lo’ak’s head weighing on his stomach and Tuk smushed onto his armpit. 

They’re the same eyes that watch you all morning, as his family gets up one by one, stretching their lithe limbs and tidying up before being called for the day’s first meal. 

Neteyam is watchful, stealing glances as you file behind his family from the pod to the clan circle, now buzzing with hungry villagers as the sun shines high in the sky. 

But he doesn’t say a word, silent as you choose the seat farthest from him. Quiet as you blink your eyes sleepily, barely registering Tuk’s excited blabbering about all of the new things she can make with the shells and supplies here. 

“Give it a rest,” Lo’ak grumbles from beside him. 

He snaps out of his reverie, eyes narrowing in on his brother. 

“What?” 

“You’ve been watching ________ all morning,” Lo’ak chides. “She’s locked up tight, bro. No way you’re getting her.” 

Neteyam’s blood curdles at the thought, wanting to tell his brother to shove it. But you’d shut him out the past few days, the sting of his rejection obviously driving a wedge between the two of you. 

“Shut up,” he grumbles. 

He hates that you’d gone from being inseparable to being strangers overnight. But what he hates even more is the way Ao’nung drops onto the log next to you and you don’t even flinch, just pass him a bored gaze that makes him beam. 

He watches you closely, eyes glued to your every move. 

Something ugly roils inside of him as Ao’nung offers you a braided bag and you hesitantly take a piece of dried meat from him, face morphing as you give him a nod of approval. 

Ao’nung looks proud of of himself as he balances the bag next to him on the log and leans towards you almost imperceptibly. Neteyam expects you to put distance between the two of you, but you barely bat an eye, watching intently as Ao’nung talks animatedly. 

Lo’ak scoffs beside him and Neteyam stomach turns.

Hours bleed into days, days bleed into weeks, and for once, you feel like things could be alright. The breathing gets easier, the learning comes faster, and something feels peaceful being near the ocean. 

The only thing that hadn’t been amended was the gaping hole that separated you from Neteyam, but in the company of a certain Olo’eyktan’s only son, you don’t feel the burn as much. 

You watch him now, as he treads water with Rotxo and the two Sully boys, walking them through the procedure of hunting under water and how to maximize their kills. 

“…and the reefs underwater…” 

He’s one and the same with the tides, mighty and commanding as his veined hands gesture confidently. One moment, he’s focused on his instruction intently, the next he’s glancing at you. 

You feel hot in the warm waters as your cheeks flame under a genuine smile. Neteyam follows his line of sight, body tensing in the water when he sees the shy look on your face. 

He’s not the only one who notices as Kiri feigns a gag and Tsireya pauses her spiel to giggle at the obvious exchange. 

“Oh, ________,” she whispers giddily. 

Your eyes swing to the group of girls surrounding you as Tuk lets out a gleeful laugh and pinches you under the water. 

“Ouch!” 

“________ has a crush,” Tuk singsongs obnoxiously. 

You knuckle her forehead and give her a warning glare than only sends her into a frenzy, laughing and splashing as she seeks protection from Kiri. 

“Stop that!” you whisper fiercely. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft,” Kiri moans. 

“No!” you say, a little too quickly. “No.”

No one in your circle looks convinced as Tsireya closes her lesson and leads the three of you to wade out of the waters. 

“It’s okay, you know?” Kiri says once you’ve reached your belongings and sling your trusty satchel over your front. 

You give her an inquisitive look and she throws her head back and laughs. 

“I know you sneak out to meet with Ao’nung at night,” she admits quietly. “I love my stupid brother, but it’s okay to move on.” 

You blanche, embarrassed at having been caught. 

After the first night, when he’d taken you for a swim with his ilu and you’d gasped in both fear and delight as the creature cut through the waters to sail through the air, he had started to frequently come back for you in the wee hours after eclipse. It had turned from you clocking him as he approached the Sully’s pod, to you standing off the side of the path he usually crossed, waiting for him. 

The first night you’d done that, his smile was so sweet, you felt something fluttering in your tummy. 

Among one of those late night excursions, while you both were splayed on the beach after a particularly adventurous swim, Ao’nung had told you he wouldn’t mind showing you all the beautiful things Awa’atlu had to offer, you just had to say the words. And you had reluctantly agreed, heart locked away tight. 

You hate to admit that he’s done well chiseling away every effort you’d made to remain snug behind your walls. He had coaxed you out with soft words, sweet fruits, meaningful talks. And you absolutely melted like putty in his hands. 

“We are head and heart,” Kiri says gently. “Sometimes it’s okay to listen to your heart.” 

You swallow under Kiri’s sympathetic gaze. 

“You’ve been strong for a long time, ________,” she states simply. “Your feelings are not a weakness.” 

You nod as she rejoins Tuk and Tsireya a few strides away.

A few moments later, a voice is warm in the shell of your sensitive ears. 

“What adventure awaits after eclipse?” Ao’nung asks lightly. 

You resist smiling up at him, but fail miserably when his webbed fingers come up to move hair from your face. 

“I have seeds of a spartan fruit,” you say quietly. “If you know of anywhere to plant them.” 

“I can make something work,” he assures you, thumb brushing your cheek, then pinching gently with a toothy smile. “Our usual place?” 

You bow your head, cheeks hot. 

“Of course.” 

“Alright, little leaf,” he bids, that stupid nickname he’d called you one of the first nights, sticking. “See you then.” 

He’s walking back in the direction of the other boys, cutting across the sand as they venture towards the heart of the clan’s village. 

As you pick up the remainder of your items, you don’t realize a body has stayed behind. 

“Little leaf?” It comes out as a scoff, mocking as your whirl on your heel and find Neteyam standing over you. “What’s your deal with him?”

You blink hard. 

“What are you talking about?”

“You an Ao’nung,” Neteyam bites, temper short. “What’s going on between you two?” 

Annoyance pinches the back of your brain as you look off into the roll of the shallow tides, then turn your attention back to the eldest Sully. For the first time in an infinite amount of moments, you don’t feel like falling into him. 

“He’s my friend,” you decide to say, sucking in a deep breath in hopes of calming your racing nerves. “Is that alright with you?” 

Neteyam’s glare doesn’t falter. 

“Just your friend?” he accuses. “I know you meet with him after eclipse, don’t think you have anyone fooled. Why?” 

“What do you mean why?” you counter, unable to keep the edge from your tone. 

“Why are you sneaking around with someone you barely know after dark, ________?” he grills. “Don’t be dense.” 

“Ao’nung is kind to me,” you argue. “He shows me about his life, about the villagers and the way of the water.” 

“And what, I’m not kind to you?” Neteyam bristles. “Tsireya can’t show you all of those things?” 

Your face scrunches in annoyance. 

“You’re being unreasonable, Neteyam,” you scoff. 

“I’m being unreasonable?” he asks in disbelief. “Ao’nung is just like the rest of the village, ________. You really thinking that in front of everyone else, he doesn’t shun us all the same?” 

“No, Neteyam, I don’t,” you retort. “Because Ao’nung is nice. He goes to great lengths to make me feel welcome, like Awa’atlu is home.”

“So he puts on a show and you’re so willing to be with him, huh?” Neteyam seethes quietly. “We’re your home, ________. Ao’nung is earning brownie points with his parents having you hooked, but do you really think he sees you?” 

You swallow, biting the inside of your cheek as you stare up at Neteyam in resignation. 

“You can be so callous sometimes,” you whisper, turning to leave the conversation. 

“I’m not done talking to you,” Neteyam sighs. 

“Well, I am.” 

You never make it back to the marui that night, still embarrassed that two of Sully’s had noticed that you were ditching your hammock as soon as the village turned in for the evenings. Instead, you wander around the beaches, collecting shells and little trinkets for morning handicrafts with Tuk. 

After the island glows both from the luminescence of the habitat and the moon, you stand post, waiting for the familiar pad of Ao’nung’s feet over the sand. You watch the stars up above to distract you, fingers twitching as you recall your argument with Neteyam earlier in the day. 

You know he was looking for chords to strike, but something akin to insecurity begins to root itself inside of you as the stars begin shifting further and further, indicating that a wide span of time has elapsed. The village is still, but your mind is racing as Ao’nung’s whereabouts remain a mystery. 

Regardless you wait. You wait so long, you’d resorted to planting yourself in the sand, and after what felt like infinity, the morning eclipse begins. When the village starts to turn over for the day, curtains and drapery being pulled back to reveal slowly waking families, you finally stand, heart in your hands. 

When you return to your pod, Neteyam is already up, posted on the edge of the walkway with his toes in the water. 

He’s shooting up when he sees you. 

“Where have you been?” he demands as you draw nearer. 

His face softens when he sees the first tear arch over your sculpted cheekbone. 

You quickly wipe it away. 

“No where,” you grumble, pushing past him. 

“________,” he urges. 

You deflect his reaching hands. 

“I’m serious, Neteyam,” you warn, the look in your golden eyes deadly. “Leave me alone.” 

Despite not seeing Ao’nung the entirety of the day, you return to your post the next night, hoping the night prior had been a fluke. The seeds of the spartan fruit are held tight in your fist and you use them as a vessel to wish hard. But it’s futile when the stars that map the skies continue to inch and you continue to wait. 

On the fourth night of Ao’nung’s absence, you decide to get to the bottom of things. 

You weave through the maruis, into the village’s circle right before eclipse. You spot Tsireya first, then him. He isn’t hard to miss when you’ve grown to know the drape of his curling hair and the bass of his hearty laugh. 

Rotxo, who sits opposite them, notices you first and his smile falters. 

Ao’nung’s neck cranes and his face shutters as he locks eyes with you. 

“________, hi,” he greets simply. 

“Hi?” you parrot, the spartan seeds you were beginning to use as a safety blanket clutched tight in your fist. “That’s it?” 

Ao’nung turns completely, waving off his sister and Rotxo as he stands to his full height. 

“What are you—“ 

“I waited for you,” you hiccup, shocked at the emotion that hijacks every morsel of resolve and composure you’ve always kept a tight lid on. “I waited for you, but you never came.” 

Ao’nung’s hands are on your shoulders, nudging you to a more private area, an alcove hidden among arched and gnarled tree roots. 

“________, I don’t understand,” he says quietly. “You—“ 

“I waited for you so that we could plant these stupid seeds and—“ 

Your unfurled fist catches his attention and his eyes widen when he sees that you’ve gripped them so hard in your hands, your palms are bleeding. 

He makes a move to grab you injured hand, but your fist tightens again. 

“This is inappropriate,” Ao’nung says sharply, eyes pleading. 

“What is?” you ask desperately. 

“You and me,” he says, like it should make sense. “This isn’t right.” 

Like a time warp, you’re brought back to the glowing forest before your departure. You see Neteyam’s disappointed expression, the twinge of disgust lacing his features at the thought of wanting you like you wanted him. 

Your heart shatters. 

Just when you thought you were getting over it all. Just when you thought that Ao’nung made you feel alive. Made you feel things you’d never felt before, he was extinguishing every sweet moment. If he was trying to cut ties before you could fall, it was too late. He was dousing the flames that had grown to engulf him and you don’t know how much more you can take. 

“Why would you do this?” you whisper brokenly. “I wanted to be left alone. Why would you force yourself into my life if you don’t want to be in it in the first place? Why would you make me want you?” 

Ao’nung’s expression turns sour. 

“I want to be there for you, ________,” he says fiercely. “You shine so bright and you are so incredible, you don’t even know it, but I can’t do this.” 

“Why?” you hoarse. 

“You are promised to someone else,” he says vehemently. “This entire time, I have sought you out with the intention of making you mine, but your heart belongs to someone else.” 

Your face crumples. 

“What are you— I don’t—“ 

“Neteyam told me to stay away from you,” Ao’nung says. “That you two would solidify your union once it was safe to go back home.” 

“No,” you interject. “That’s not—“ 

“Don’t be cruel,” he says quietly. “I don’t think I can take it.” 

“No, Neteyam and I are nothing,” you spit. “We—“ 

The fury hits you full force as you pull away from Ao’nung and stalk away. 

You don't you hear him rushing to catch up with you. It’s like you’re underwater, hearing muffled as you map the woven path to the Sully’s marui. 

Everything is absolutely red as you clock him.

Neteyam is laughing with Lo’ak and Kiri when you approach. 

The expression on your face is murderous when he looks up and he pales as he stands to meet your barreling figure. You’re shoving him away from you as soon as he steps in your immediate space. 

“How could you?” you cry out. 

Kiri and Lo’ak’s eyes are wide at your outburst, the warrior of few words teeming with anger and emotion as you square your shoulders. Kiri nudges Lo’ak’s shoulder and gestures towards their marui to give you two some privacy. 

“________—“ 

“You told Ao’nung we were promised to each other?” you press, finger jabbing his chest heatedly. 

His face contorts as his spine straightens. 

“Yes, ________, I did,” he confirms, nearly smug.

“Why?” you cry out. “After everything, why would you—“ 

“You’re mine, ________,” he blurts, fists shaking as he closes in on you. “All mine, and I refuse to let anyone have you. Especially Ao’nung.” 

The boy who stands before you is unrecognizable, so taken by anger and envy. 

“You’re heartless,” you whimper. 

“Me?” he asks incredulously, voice breaking as he comes up to grab you by your biceps. “You– You made me fall for you and suddenly you–“ 

“I liked you first,” you choke, eyes searching his wildly. “I liked you first and you told me that you were sorry. In that moment, I could see how you saw me. Pitiful, coarse, misplaced. Ao’nung doesn’t make me feel that way.” 

“Ao’nung doesn’t—“ 

“For once in my life, I feel okay. I feel like I can finally breathe, and that upsets you? You’re jealous? All I’ve known is the forest from a distance, coinciding with clans that make me feel like an outsider! When it’s me and him, that’s all it is, just two souls existing together. This is the first time I can say such.” Your voice is hoarse, drawing wandering eyes. 

Neteyam’s face softens. 

His entire time growing up with you in the forest, he’d never seen you display as much of yourself as you had in this moment. He can feel it pouring from you, every feeling you’d kept locked tight in your heart. He sees it in your eyes, nearly feral as you tremble in his hold. 

“You love him?” It comes out more like a statement, his chest heaving. 

Love. A word that holds the weight of a thousand suns. Four letters that seal your fate. 

Did you love Ao’nung? 

No. You didn’t, but maybe…maybe you could learn to. You could learn to love him just how he’d learned you, how he meticulously dismantled every doubt you had in him. 

“I could,” you whisper. 

Neteyam’s grasp loosens and he looks wounded as he backs away from you, peering down at you like he doesn’t recognize the person you’ve become. 

As the cloud dissipates, you become aware of the eyes watching the entire debacle. 

You shrink, mortified that nearly the entire village knows of your feelings for their Olo’eyktan’s son. 

You turn on your heel to flee, but a sturdy body stands a few feet away, leaned against one of the twisted trunks of a tree supporting the surrounding maruis. 

You swallow. 

“A-Ao’nung,” you splutter. 

His smile is soft, knowing, as he pushes off the tree and comes to stand in front of you. 

“You’re popular, little leaf.” 

You buckle, head bowing in embarrassment. 

“I’m sorry, Ao’nung,” you murmur. “I…” 

His hand comes around your head and pushes your face into the smooth skin of his chest. 

You soften.

“Why are you sorry?” he asks, hand caressing your loosening braids.

“This must be embarrassing,” you whisper. 

He spins your bodies, tugging you back down along the path you marched to confront Neteyam. 

“You could never embarrass me,” he assures you, guiding you towards the village circle. One of his hands turns yours over, inspecting the tiny wounds as you two hurry along. “Let’s get you fixed up, okay?” 

You can barely swallow around the lump forming in your throat as he climbs up into an empty pod used for treating the wounded and helps you up. 

“Sit,” he coaxes, striding to the ledges of supplies, meticulously organized by his own mother. 

You obey, tears streaking your cheeks as you tuck one leg under the other. You don’t feel like the mighty warrior Jake and many of the Omatikaya have made you out to be all of these years. 

You feel small, and you feel weak. All because of a boy. 

“Hand, please,” he says gently, kneeling in front of you with an arm full of remedies. 

You oblige, offering your shaky hand, palm up. 

The blood has dried, revealing small little angry lacerations that sting when he pours a thin liquid to clean them. You hiss and the tears start again. 

“Stop,” he murmurs, wiping away the rivulets that slip. “Stop crying.” 

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, fist balling involuntarily when he slathers a viscous mixture on your palm that soothes the burns. 

“Stop apologizing,” he says softly. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” 

He places a leaf over your palm and then wraps your hand in a soft cloth that sates the ache. When you’re all patched up, he brings your fingers to his lips, then holds them tightly in his lap. 

“I need to hear it for myself,” he sighs.

“Hear what?” you croak. 

“Every moment I spent with you since your arrival has been precious to me,” Ao’nung says. “I want you to say it to me.” 

You’re in knots, swallowing hard as he blurs. 

You take a gasping breath as you will yourself not to cry. 

“I want you, Ao’nung. I see you,” you warble. “And I’m petrified to admit it because admitting it means I’m being vulnerable, but I want you to see me too.” 

His lips curve, pulling you forward so that you have to catch yourself on your uninjured hand. 

“You scared me for a little there,” he whispers, mouth a hairsbreadth from yours. “I don’t know what I would do if all that time we spent together meant nothing to you.” 

You swallow for the thousandth time. 

“Never,” you shudder. 

His smile widens. 

“You’re not gonna stop me, are you?” he asks, lips ghosting yours as his eyes search your own. 

“No,” you murmur.

“Good,” he sighs.

He kisses you like you’re delicate, pulling you into him to taste every unspoken word you’ve held onto since the first night he came to you. 

When he pulls away from you, forehead resting against yours, he’s so quiet when he whispers. 

But you hear him all the same. 

“I see you, little leaf.” 

an — AHH second full length oneshot is done! if you've made it this far, i thank you again! i had so much fun writing this request and once more want to express gratitude the anon to shot me this idea! ALSO purposefully left out details of their little rendezvous' so that i could do some drabbles for them in the future! next fic is (finally) the lo'ak x reader i've been blabbing about.

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neng © 2023

#ao'nung #ao'nung x reader #ao'nung imagine #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar way of water #avatar the movie #neteyam fic #neteyam x reader #neteyam

[witchwyfe]

just a taste | sh

| pairing: steve harrington x female reader

| précis: visting steve at work, fluff, kissing lmao, mentions of food

| a/n: first steve fic...v much in my steve harrington era anyway wanted to try out writing for him

Whenever you finished your shifts at the mall movie theater, you headed over to Scoops Ahoy. Usually your boyfriend was working, but if he wasn’t, you got to see Robin and sometimes free ice cream. Luckily for you, Steve is working at Scoops when you walk in after your shift. You hadn’t even bothered to change out of the god-awful polo and khakis you’re required to wear, you couldn’t wait any longer to get out of the theater.

Robin’s at the counter when you trudge in, lifting your hand in a short wave. You clunk your purse down into a booth, sliding into it and resting your head against the wall.

“I’ll get Steve,” Robin smiles, shaking her head playfully. As much as she likes to tease the two of you, she loves how happy you make each other.

“Oh, it’s okay,” You start. “I can wait if…” You trail off, stopping when you realize Robin ignored you and went to the back anyway.

Before you can even turn your head, your boyfriend is sliding over the counter, and into your side of the booth.

“Hey gorgeous,” He breathes into your hair, already drawing you into his side. Your arms sling around his neck, and you pull your head up to meet his lips in a quick kiss.

“Work go okay?” He mumbles against your mouth.

“Hmm,” You hum noncommittally, feeling the way his breath stutters from the vibration of your lips. He’s reaching for your waist, ready to pull you into his lap and—

“Ahem,” Robin clears her throat. You peel your lips off of your boyfriend, thigh already halfway on his lap. “Please remember that this is a family establishment.” There’s a smirk on her lips, and you’re embarrassed, completely removing yourself from Steve’s touch, face hot.

“Sorry Robin,” You say weakly, sighing lightly.

There’s a blush climbing onto Steve’s cheeks and he ducks his head. “I should get back to it,” He coughs awkwardly. He stands up, but not before running his thumb gently over your cheek.

“You gonna stay awhile baby? Hang out?”

“If that’s okay,” You nod. “I promise I won’t distract you or anything.”

He grins wickedly, winking at you. “You know you can distract me anytime.”

You shake your head in feigned disbelief, the smile on your lips giving you away.

“You want some ice cream?” He wonders from the doorway of the back room. “I’ll bring you some.”

“Sure. Surprise me.”

You pull a book from your purse, half paying attention to the words on the page. The bell dings announcing customers every once in a while, but the next hour goes by silent for the most part.

A loud clunk reverberates in the store, startling you. You look to see your sweet boyfriend, who had apparently dropped an ice cream dish he was in the midst of cleaning.

Not more than ten minutes later, he’s coming out from the back again, a cup of ice cream in hand.

“How’s your book baby?” He wonders, plopping down beside you with a kiss to your head.

You shrug. “Could be better.”

He frowns, before remembering he brought you ice cream. “You want a snack?”

“Yes please,” You grin. “What do you have for me?”

“I was trying to remember what flavors you’ve tried, and I don’t think you’ve had butter pecan…?”

“No, I haven’t.” You agree, taking the cup from him. “You got it for me?”

“Hm-mm.”

“Thanks baby.” You coo, leaning forward to peck his lips.

You dip the plastic spoon into the cup, scooping out some ice cream before sliding it into your mouth. The flavor is good, and it melts nicely on your tongue.

“It’s good.” You hum happily.

You take another couple of bites before he runs his thumb under your bottom lip. “Mind if I try some, sweetheart?”

“Of course not,” You nod.

“Don’t know what it tastes like,” He comments. You take another bite before sliding the cup over to him.

“What do you mean you don’t know what it tastes like, you work here, how do you not—” He cuts you off by pressing his lips to yours, palms on either side of you jaw to pull you closer. His tongue sweeps your lower lip, asking for permission. You grant it, and he tastes the ice cream you’d just taken a bite of. He groans at the taste of the ice cream mixed with your cherry lip gloss, sighing when you shudder against him.

Eventually he pulls away, a wolfish grin on his face. “That’s good baby, good flavor.”

“Steve!” You exclaim, heat creeping up your cheeks once again. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, chuckling when you bury your face into his neck.

“Sorry sweet girl, just wanted a taste.”

© witchwyfe 2022. absolutely no reposting, translating, or modifying, even with credit.

#mine #my work #my writing #witchwyfe writing #witchwyfe #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #stranger things fic #cw: food

[changbinsboiledegg]

Girl your skz "another member walks in" reactions gave me intense Changbin brainrot and I need a full thing but where his gf is feeling insecure about herself so he fucks her and doesn't let her cum until she repeats the praises and compliments he tells her 🤤🥰🥰

No because why does he seem like the type?? Insecure?? Nope. Not on Changbin's watch. Also, in case no one told you told Anon; you horny mf. Anyways, I hope you enjoy :,)

AFAB! reader x SKZ Changbin.

MDNI. MDNI. MDNI. MDNI. MDNI. MDNI!!!!!!!!

Warnings: Insecure reader, issues with body/self image, SMUT. SMUT. SMUT. Explicit, swearing, petnames, praise kink, edging?, cum lol, creampie, unprotected seggs, usage of the word 'dick' because I was scared to write 'cock'. Maybe a little dirty talking? I feel like I'm forgetting smth but y'all get the gist.

Note: Please don't blacklist me lmao I'm only here to provide for anons and smut readers alike. Longer than I intended but I don't think y'all care lol. Anyways, ily, I hope you enjoy, and I'm going to log out for a day because I'm nervous. And obviously if smut makes you uncomfortable, SKIP. any grammar/typos, look away 🫶 I tried.

btw, Changbin is my ult lol. Okay adios.

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

You tried on way too many outfits within the past ten minutes. Each one leaving you with a sinking heart and a frown that grew the more you overthought how you looked.

You felt yourself on the verge of tears from the frustration. You and Changbin were supposed to go out on a date later that night and nothing looked right on you. The insecurities were eating you alive and you even went as far as to think, ‘why is he with someone like me?’

“Baby?” You knew Changbin was coming over but you lost track of time. He saw you frowning in disgust at yourself in the mirror, noticing the glint in your eyes from the tears about to give out.

“What’s wrong? Talk to me.” Changbin wrapped his arms around you.

“Why are you with me? I can’t even make an outfit look good on me! People are going to see me with you and wonder why you’re with someone so—”

“Nope. No. No. Stop that. Look at me.” Changbin’s tone was stern, turning you around to face him.

“You are beautiful, gorgeous, a Goddess. If you don’t think these outfits look good on you, then it’s the outfits fault.” He started, lifting a hand to your cheek and wiping the tears that fell down your cheeks with his thumbs.

“If you need me to take your shopping for outfits that won’t make you feel like this, I will. But Just know that I think you could make literal trash look sexy.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his statement, now wiping your own tears. You looked back at the mirror again, feeling your heart sink. “But—”

“Take off this dress.”

“What?” You were taken aback by his interruption. Changbin stood firm where he was, crossing his arms as he looked at you in the mirror. ”Take off the dress. I want to show you something.”

You did as he said, slowly peeling off the dress that didn’t make the cut. Letting it fall to the floor, you were left in just your bra and panties.

Changbin slightly smirked, placing his hands on your shoulders and leaning close to your ear from behind. “See? It is not you making these outfits look bad.”

You glanced away from the mirror, still feeling insecure in your skin. You wished he wouldn’t stare so much, not wanting him to see what you saw. But at the same time, you felt good feeling his eyes roam your body.

“Don’t look away. I’m not done yet.” Changbin regained your attention. You reluctantly looked at yourself, waiting to see what he was trying to show you. You guaranteed that it wouldn’t work.

His hands trailed down your back and to the clasp of your bra, unclasping it and pulling it off.

You were still left in your panties as his hands reached around to cup your breasts, gently massaging them.

“So gorgeous. How could you ever think otherwise?” Changbin huskily whispered, pecking the side of your neck near your jaw.

“No, I’m not—”

“Yes. You are.” He moved his hands down your stomach and to the front of your panties. He noticed you looking away and stopped right at the band. ”Look.” He whispered again, pressing himself against you from behind. You looked back at yourself, feeling his hard erection poking you.

“Do you think I would be this hard for someone I didn’t think looked this fucking gorgeous?” He kissed your neck again, moving his hands to clasp the sides of your panties before pulling them down to your ankles. He stood back up and moved his hand back down to your sensitive, wet clit.

“You’re so beautiful, already ready for me? You feel good when I tell you the truth, don’t you?” He smirked smugly as he rubbed circles around your clit.

You elicited a moan, biting your lip as his touched made you shudder. Changbin paused, raising an eyebrow. “You didn’t answer me.”

“…Yes… I feel good when you compliment me.” You replied in a pleading tone, wanting him to continue. Changbin kissed your neck again.

“You agree that you’re beautiful?” Changbin watched your face in the mirror, waiting for your answer. You hesitated.

Changbin slowly retracted his hand.

“No! Wait… please keep going.” You begged. Changbin clicked his tongue, “Do you agree?”

“Yes! Please?”

“What are you agreeing on?” Changbin quizzed, his hand still not budging. You squirmed but he wrapped his other arm around your waist.

“I’m… I’m…” You couldn’t say it. Changbin waited a few seconds before pulling away from you.

“Beautiful! I’m… beautiful.” You said, feeling a bit awkward— but desperate. Changbin smiled, putting his hands on your waist and guiding you down to the floor and pushing you on all fours.

“You sound so sexy complimenting yourself. You should do it often.” Changbin trailed his hands down your spine and stopping at your hips, gently squeezing them.

“So sexy.”

He took his hands off of you and when you looked in the mirror, seeing how you looked in this position, you also saw Changbin undressing himself. He kicked the clothing away from his immediate surroundings and kneeled down behind you. He was so close that you could feel his hard dick laid on your ass.

“Now, I know you want me inside of you but only if you look at yourself in the mirror and if you repeat after me. Got it, baby?” Changbin stroked himself in slow motions as he used his free hand to spread your legs apart more.

“Oh… Okay… I can do that.” Your eyes flickered to yourself, digging your nails into the carpet a little. You couldn’t help but look at Changbin, though.

“Look at you. Not me.” His stern tone came out again, sliding the head of his dick inside of you. “Do you want me to fuck you or not?”

“Yes!” You answered quickly, trying to focus on yourself. He was watching your face. Your eyes specifically. He knew when and where you were looking.

“Good.” He slid into your wet hole, gripping your hips to pull you closer as he filled you up and stretched you out.

“Don’t you agree that you’re stunning?” He paused, not daring to thrust yet but you felt his dick twitching inside of you.

You wanted more. He definitely wanted more.

But you hesitated. Changbin slowly inched himself out of you.

“Yes.” You caught yourself looking away from your face before quickly staring at yourself again. Changbin, satisfied, snapped his hips forward, sending himself pounding into you.

You covered your mouth, not daring to look away from the mirror as his thrusts were so powerful, the room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against each other and the moans, groans, and whimpers that emitted from both of you.

Changbin’s grip on your hips tightened as he grunted, “come on, baby. Don’t cover your mouth. Let me hear how good you feel, gorgeous.”

You slapped your hand against the carpet as your walls clenched around his dick, earning a groan as he threw his head back. Your legs felt like goo, knowing you made him feel like that.

His pace continued before abruptly stopped and feeling you pulsate around his length.

“Ah-ah. Don’t close your eyes. You need to watch how good you take it.” He reached a hand to your shoulder for more leverage. You slowly opened your eyes, whimpering from the pleasure and the need to cum.

“Fuck, I love the sounds you make.” He commented in a low whisper, thrusting into you again, only this time he went deeper, harder, and even a little faster.

You weren’t sure which of you were more needy.

“You’re so beautiful.” Changbin watched you in the mirror. Your moans became louder the closer your were about to orgasm.

You almost forgot what he said about repeating him when he stopped abruptly.

“I’m-I’m beautiful…” You repeated. He continued.

“A literal Goddess— Fuck, you feel so good.” He groaned. His thrusts getting faster.

You grit your teeth, trying not to close your eyes as you felt yourself about to let go any minute now. It made your eyes water, but as you looked at yourself being fucked by him, you started to like how you looked.

“I’m a-a Goddess!” You bit your lip, only to moan louder. Changbin smirked, loving the way you were complimenting yourself— finally.

“That’s good, baby, keep doing that.” He cooed, He was satisfied. He was able to take your mind off of your insecurities and seeing you like this, writhed and moaning as he took you from behind? That was one of his favorites sights. “I’m so proud of you, beautiful.”

You were about to cum, feeling your walls contract and clench around him, hearing his groans and moans from the feeling of you on the edge.

You felt euphoric, keeping your eyes on the mirror and trying not to close them because you didn’t want him to stop. But then you did.

Changbin knew it was an involuntarily reaction— that you couldn’t stop yourself from closing your eyes.

He continued, feeling himself about to cum after you. He wanted you to watch yourself cum though.

“Open your eyes, look. Don’t you agree you look pretty cumming?” Changbin was breathing heavily, almost panting as he kept his pace. You forced your eyes open, screaming out from your orgasm as you were cumming.

“Pretty, right? So fucking pretty.” Changbin felt his own orgasm wash over him and you continued to take him, smirking as you watched him in the mirror as he started to fall apart inside of you.

“Very pretty.” You commented, watching as he clenched his jaw and filled you to the brim with cum. He almost collapsed on top of you, had you not been on all fours.

He regained his composure and pulled out as cum dripped out of your hole seconds after.

“You did amazing as usual.” Changbin complimented as you had turned and sat, facing him. You were barely catching your breath.

“I could say the same for you.” Your smirk was still on your face, just as satisfied as he was. “Thank you for…” You paused, thinking of how to word your sentence.

“Thank you.” You settled, feeling a lot less insecure than you did before. Changbin smiled.

“Of course. I will always be here to remind you of how amazing you are.”

#stray kids changbin smut #skz changbin smut #changbin smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids imagines

[jake-webber]

STUCK IN A CAR | TARAYUMMY

pairing: tarayummy x male!reader

summary: childhood ex-lovers turned to friends w/ tension, reader is a rockstar(yesyes) and content creator, use of Y/N, flirty tara and reader (get a room!!), v much inspired by tara’s vid with vinnie, some of reader’s answers might not correlate with yall but lets pretend 🙏🏻🙏🏻

a/n: have an unfinished work bc i don’t think i can continue it lmao

“Hey guys, It’s me Tara and I’m here with Y/N.” Tara introduced you to the viewers with her signature grin as she looked over at your direction, watching as you waved at the camera. She tried to hide a scoff at your false awkwardness, fully knowing you’re not one to get nervous for videos. You knew that too, of course. You just liked the face she gives you when you push buttons.

Tara smiled back at the camera. “This is part two of my new series; Stuck in A Car with my friends. Are you liking your stay so far?” She asked, poking on your crossed arms.

“I’ll give it five stars. Ten out of ten seats, plus the owner’s a hottie too.” You answered with a sly smile, making eye contact. It’s almost your second instinct to do so whenever you talk to her, it’s something you’ve gotten used to in general because of her.

Tara stared back at you with a growing smile. “Thank you, I like that answer.”

“Of course.”

“But that doesn’t erase what you did to me.” She jokingly chided, pointing at finger at you.

You ran a hand through your hair, faking distress as you knit your eyebrows together, looking at the camera like a sitcom. “Fuck, already? It hasn’t even been five minutes.” You quipped, chuckling at your actions as Tara did as well.

“No, no. It’s what you did in the past. Remember when you didn’t invite me to your first party when you moved to Vegas?” You quirked at an eyebrow at her words, recalling of said incident. You were sure you invited everyone you knew— Hell, you probably told your parents about the party too.

You crossed your arms, your leather sleeves squeezing against each other as you leaned forward towards Tara. “I invited you, what do you mean?”

“I never received a text or call from you!” She exclaimed, her laughter mixing with her words.

“You didn’t have to get invited by me. My friends were responsible for that too.” You explained further. Despite that, Tara didn’t seem too convinced as she stared at the camera in disbelief.

She went back to you with a grin, her eyes turning into almost half-crescents as she made eye contact with you again. You couldn’t suppress the smile making its way to your face at that.

“I wanted to get an invite from you because it’s your party, Y/N.” Tara stressed her words as she spoke, making you laugh. It wasn’t an uncommon sight to hear Tara’s complaints about you from her in front of you.

You raised both of your hands in defeat. “Fine, fine. I’m sorry I didn’t you to my party.” You mimicked her tone which earned you a light smack on the arm. She groaned, though playfully, and went to look at her notes in her phone.

You only watched with a resting smile on your face, elbow propped over the compartment that separated your seat from her. Before the video started, Tara made you seat in front of the steering wheel because she wasn’t in her right angle, as she said. Though you’d argue every angle of her was the right one.

“Something about you and me is that we’ve know each other for the longest time– longer than I’ve know Jake, actually.” Tara informed the camera since you obviously knew that already.

“We’re childhood friends for short.” You joined in the topic, “I’ve know Tarayummy before it was cool.”

Tara only nodded with a smirk. “It’s true. He’s actually seen my, uh– scene queen phase and my millions of phases along with it.”

“I did. She saw me become a fake goth.” Tara laughed at your words. “Not to mention, I wore the makeup to class.”

“Those times were his shortest in class.”

“Disadvantage for the rest of ‘em, couldn’t even soak in my gothic glory.” You joked, laughing at the memory.

You weren’t as close with Tara when you first arrived in your all black get up but you could distinctly remember how she was the only out of twenty students that cheered you on as the teacher reprimanded you for your supposedly inappropriate clothes.

“I wouldn’t say you were a fake goth, you were very true to it.” Tara added. “I’d say you were a baby goth, if anything.”

“Please, I remembered how I couldn’t stand anything non-christian music despite wanting to be a goth.” You lightheartedly retort.

Tara bursted into laughter, making you chuckle. “Now you’re, what, like a mix between punk and emo that makes songs about going down on someone?”

You rolled your eyes at the description though you don’t deny it and gave the camera a knowing glance. “Vaguely, I sing about it vaguely.”

"Tara chimed in sarcastically, saying, 'Yeah, sure.'"

#tarayummy #tarayummy x reader #tarayummy oneshot #tarayummy x you #tarayummy imagine

[grooviestsadpapaya]

────⊱⁜⊰──── Shadow Over Hyrule ────⊱⁜⊰────

The people of Hyrule have abandoned their peace and unity in exchange for luxury. In their divided state, monstrous forces grow more powerful in an attempt to resurrect their king, Demise. Three warriors who possess the blessing of the Goddesses form an alliance to prevent a brutal war.

────⊱⁜⊰────

Pretty basic idea, but I think it’s fun 👍 Here is a more detailed description: (keep in mind this is probably going to change in the future) it’s cheesy so bear with me

Like I said, Hyrule is no longer a joint force. The Rito, Zora, Gerudo, Sheikah, Gorons, and Hylians no longer see each other on equal terms. While the Gorons manage to sustain neutrality, everyone excluding the People of Central Hyrule have fallen victim to immense poverty. Central Hyrule is walled off from the starvation and scarcity surrounding it: the people within its borders live very indulgent lifestyles and are unaware of the dire state of their neighbors. The Royal Hylian family has become corrupt and hellbent on perpetuating tradition, so much so that when their firstborn child had the mark of the Goddess on the back of their hand, they went to extreme lengths to uphold the family image.

Beyond the walls lies desolation. Zora’s Domain is flooded and riddled with disease, Gerudo Valley is a derelict shell of its former glory, and there is nothing left of Rito Village but ash. Despite this, the people of these nations found a way to pull through. They formed ramshackle sanctuaries and communities to accommodate the remaining survivors. Because of poverty and hunger unfortunately, violence among these communities is inevitable. Many youths are attempting to cultivate environments to put a stop to this disorder, mainly the Resistance and the Yiga Clan.

Demise’s army develops behind the scenes… or under the scenes I guess. Yeah, there are massive catacombs underneath Hyrule and they house the Twili People. The Twili are not monsters, nor are they even a part of Demise’s forces. In fact, they are forced to serve Demise against their will. (I’m gonna develop this more later, it’s a big fat WIP rn. The characters that will be the main antagonist forces will be Demise, Ghirahim, Zant, Vaati, and Yuga, all of which are exclusively tied to a region underneath Hyrule. Ghirahim is in the Lanayru region, Zant in the Eldin Region, Vaati in the Faron Region, Yuga in the Hebra region, and Demise in Central Hyrule. I’m tired lol)

ALRIGHT FOLKS TIME TO TALK ABOUT THE CHARACTERS WOOOO!! I’ll just explain some of their backstories bc I want to save their actual arcs and stuff for the comic. Keep in mind I am NOT a writer lmao

Shown are the three “warriors” who wield the blessings of the Goddesses Din, Nayru, and Farore (Power, Wisdom, and Courage respectively). We’ll talk about the very top one first because he’s my favorite <3

Bestir Ganondorf Rova ────⊱⁜⊰────

Bestir’s name was changed from Ganondorf to protect him. The Royal Hylian Family would kill him if they found out he was the first Gerudo Male to be born in more than a century. He was raised by twins Fyre and Aice Rova with his sister Nabooru (he calls her Nabbi). Nabooru was always far more outgoing and athletic than her brother, but Bestir had always had a way with words. He was cunning and knew how to make people do what he wanted. This duality would usually result in them playing tricks on the Hylian guards patrolling the area. They even became friends with some of the guards on duty. Eventually though, tragedy befell the Gerudo and him and his sister were left as orphans at the age of ten. He fled to the nearest settlement, hand-in-hand with Nabooru, and stumbled upon a tavern in the southern Hebra region named Telma’s Bar. The siblings were taken in by the tavern’s owner, Telma, who had also taken in various other strays. Among these strays were Remedy, Key, Shad, and Ashei, all of whom were left homeless after the destruction of Rito Village. After about a year, Bestir is visited by the Goddess of Power Din in a dream. If I go any further I will end up spoiling stuff so mehhh I’ll just move on to Sheik

TL;DR — The only sane one of the three and an orphan who maxed out his charisma stat.

Sheik Nexus Hyrule (prev. Zelda Nexus Hyrule) ────⊱⁜⊰────

Sheik was the firstborn child of the Queen of Hyrule and was born with the mark of the Goddess on the back of their left hand. This sent the Royal Family into a frenzy as the mark had not been seen among the people for centuries. However, contrary to what legends would usually suggest about the Goddesses Vessel, Sheik was born with jet black hair rather than a golden blonde. When the heir turned six, their parents made the decision to change that. They bleached the child’s hair on a monthly basis from then on out, presenting the change to the public as a miracle from the Goddess Hylia. Eventually their monthly bleaching ended up in disaster, burning the child’s face and leaving them with a permanent scar. Sheik had always been discontented with their home life, but this tipped them over the edge. They began to lash out and became angry. They packed a small bag with little to none of the basic items they needed to survive and left the castle. Their first night under the stars, away from their lavish life at the castle, they receive a dream from the Goddess of Wisdom Nayru.

TL;DR — A really really angsty teen with horrible familial trauma and anger problems.

Link ────⊱⁜⊰────

That’s it. That’s his name. He has no memory of who he was in a past life, all he knows is that he wasn’t always like… that. He is aware of what is wrong with him and why he looks the way he does, but his mental is a bit of an enigma, especially to him. He knows that he had been cursed; that there is something unwanted inside of him. A parasite. I really can’t say much more about his backstory because I don’t wanna spoil the comic, so I’ll just say that he hates his superiors, in particular Ghirahim and Yuga, and he is really romantically frustrated. He is a Shadow, which means he is basically a normal person who has become corrupted, or “Twilit”. Basically they have big evil tapeworms that make you really strong and scary (think how Darbus became Fyrus in TP). The Shadows are kind of a method Ghirahim uses to keep the Twili serfs in line. If the parasite is removed, the Host dies. Oh yeah, he also will not hesitate to fuck you up so bad you get turned into a headline. He gets visited by Farore, Goddess of Courage, bla bla, no one cares.

TL;DR — Ruthless murderer with a parasite, amnesia, and no bitches.

It’s kinda sad because Bestir is eleven and is literally babysitting two grown ass adults because they are both so unhinged and hate each other’s guts so much that nothing gets done.. just thought I’d put that out there. Luckily Telma helps him because she is a girlboss.

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If you are reading this tysm, like I said this is prone to changes so don’t get too attached to any certain part of my really rough outline of my story. Ily all and thank you for the support 💖 Reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#finally made this post lol #I’ve been wanting to make one and haven’t gotten around to it #legend of zelda #zelda au #SOH au #shadow over hyrule #also redraw of the old one #I actually am in love with this one!! #well considering it took me almost 20 hours I kind of have to be lol #my art

[darthmaulification]

could i get reader pampering maul after a long day? feeding him nice food, massaging him, maybe even some risque times if you want.

A/N: sorry y’all that i haven’t been writing much sw fics, i’ve been enjoying yautja schtuff LOLZ 💀 so my duality of man is posting yautja fic in conjunction to star wars fic. i desire them all (monsterfucker).

hope you enjoy! 💗

content: fluff and spice, grumpy manchild maul type beat, afab!reader (no pronouns or gendered terms used), mand’alor maul, nudity, massages, dom/sub dynamic, they’re practically edging each other LMAO

word count: 2,497

He’s clearly agitated, no longer sprawl and lax in his throne, but hunched and glowering at the crowd before him. The meeting has obviously drawn far past Maul’s level of tolerance, and judging by the way his scowl has been progressively deepening is equal parts impressive as it is worrying. Beneath the table, you slide your hand from your lap to rest your palm on Maul’s thigh, and he looks over at you from the corner of his eye.

Are you okay? You hope the question shows in your eyes, tender and soft like the way you’re intending it to be, and you actually hope he does snoop in your mind to hear it. Maul seems to, judging by the way his sneer briefly turns to a scoff and how he rolls his eyes. He’s never been one to tell you how he’s feeling, so you’re not surprised by his dismissal.

“Perhaps we should save the next few topics for another day.” When a break in the overarching conversation occurs, you practically jump at the opportunity to put in your own two cents. Thankfully, it seems everyone else in attendance is also done with the meeting, and a murmur of affirmation rolls through the crowd.

“Yes, yes— it was a pleasure to have you all conjure for the entire day it leeched upon.” Maul growls from behind the hand he has on his chin, spitting out the words with a venom. It sounds almost too much like a child, but thankfully none of the governors or senators present make any sort of nod to it, and instead scurry from the room.

It takes no more than ten seconds until the doors close behind the last advisor.

“Maul, that was rude. And you sounded like a child.” You reprimand him lightly, your lips tugged into a smile that won’t fade, not even at Maul’s heated glare in response. 

“Do not call me a child, I will—”

“Oh, hush.” You lean in and kiss him, smothering whatever semi-toothless threat Maul was about to hurl at you. The kiss doesn’t last long, only a few tender, warm moments, and when you pull away Maul still has a glower on his face, but his eyes are soft. He opens his mouth to speak, but you cut him off before he can even get the first word out.

“Come, my love, let’s retire for the night.” You tug at his hands, beckoning him to stand. He does, rising from his throne and, for once in his life, allowing you to guide him to your shared quarters.

—

The second the door to your room closes, you practically toss off the shimmersilk cloak you’re wearing, sending the fabric to the floor. Immediately, your hands go to the buttons and laces of your shirt and pants, fingers hastily and expertly undoing the ties. Maul straightens up in a recoil, eyes blowing wide and expression scrunching into one of shock.

“What are you doing?” He asks, irritation stiff buzzing in his words but diminishing by the second the more he watches you remove your clothes. You force yourself to not smile, instead completely focusing on stripping down to your birthday suit. The stare he has lingering on your revealing form makes your skin tingle pleasantly.

You know that teasing him like this is a gamble, but the reward at the end often benefits the both of you. Besides, you’ve had this idea ever since reading about particular Twi’lek healing spas, ones that involved no clothes and massages.

“Getting comfortable.” You reply simply, pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it to the floor. You send him a nonchalant glance over your now bare shoulder and add, “You should too, my love.”

Your pants fall completely to the floor along with your underwear, leaving you as bare as a babe, and you turn to face Maul. He’s no longer glowering, thankfully, but now there’s a new, predatory look on his face that has you suppressing a shiver. He smirks, crossing his arms over his well-muscled chest, golden eyes roaming your figure.

“Naturally.” He replies simply, not bothering to hide how his eyes have been ogling your breasts, and goes to unzip the fly of his pants. Face feeling very warm, you watch as he drops his pants and his half-hard cock springs into view. 

“Now that we’re comfortable,” Maul starts, closing the distance between you to pull you in close with an arm around your waist, “What more do you have in store for me, my dear?”

The urge to abandon your original plan rears its head at the feel of Maul’s warm, tight body and his lips so so close to your own, but you force yourself to have the fortitude of an army. Peeling yourself away from him with a coquettish grin on your lips, you gesture to the bed and ignore the heat pooling between your thighs. Especially when your eyes flit down to his swelling erection...

“Lay down. Let me take care of you.” You purr, sashaying with an extra swing to your hips to the fresher to grab a few items. Maul watches, bemused, and without any complaints (surprisingly) follows your directions. You hear him lay on the bed as you grab a bottle of scented oil, a few fluffy towels, and place a small basin beneath the water tap. You fill it with hot water, the steam warm against your face and beginning to fog the mirror.

“You’ve been overworking yourself again, Maul.” Sticking the towels and bottle under your arm, you call to your lover and aren’t surprised when you hear him scoff in response. He looks up from the pillow he has under his head when your footfalls approach, and his dour expression turns quizzical.

“What’s this, my dear?” He purrs, his eyes following the basin as you place it down on the bed and then to the bottle that catches the light when you set it on the nightstand. You offer him an enigmatic smile in return, reaching to set the harsh lights of the room to a lower setting. Immediately, the brightness dims to a muted, cozy orange, and when you turn to face Maul, his eyes glow in the low lights.

“Helping you ease. Now lay on your stomach, please.” Tonight must be a blue moon, because Maul once again obeys your tender command with no pushback. He rolls onto his front with a soft grunt, shifting slightly to get comfortable. A small frown tugs at your lips when you can notice the tenseness of his muscles, his back and shoulders visibly tight with stress.

“Oh, Maul...” The murmur escapes you before you can stop it, but before Maul can respond, you’ve soaked one towel into the basin and placed the hot, heavy fabric over Maul’s neck. A makeshift heat compress, the type meant to soothe and treat, Maul sighs when you pat it slightly, loosely molding it to his neck.

“So busy all the time,” You start as you carefully climb up onto the bed, swinging a leg over your lover so that you straddle him at the tops of his thighs. Maul grunts again, hips rutting the bed at the feel of your weight settling on and around him. It must be a blue moon for you too, because that simple action has you half moaning, half sighing and a hot feeling deep in your core.

Perhaps you’ve both been wound a bit tight as of late.

“What’s in the bottle?” Maul asks thickly, his voice muffled slightly by the pillow under his head. You grab it and pop off the top, pouring the thick liquid into your palm. It glows gently, made bioluminescent from the particular plants and scents mixed into the base oil.

“It’s a special massage oil,” You sing-song, as you set aside the bottle and place your hand on his back, “Meant to soothe muscles and whatnot.”

The moment the gooey liquid had hit Maul’s skin, he had tensed at the coolness of it. But as your hands spread it over his back, the movement and heat of his body warmed it and Maul relaxes again. The oil paints Maul glossy, putting a sheen over his crimson and midnight skin that makes you desire him even more. As you work at spreading it over his back and shoulders, a knock at the door sounds.

“Come in!” You call, and a kitchen droid enters pushing a cart of food that you had asked to be taken to your room earlier in the day. They roll the cart next to the bed, and let out a series of beeps. You look over the spread of jogan fruits, honeyed peaches, berries of all sorts, and the selection of chocolate (mostly dark, Maul’s preference) with appreciation. You smile at the droid.

“Thank you.” The droid responds with another series of beeps and as they roll out the door, closing it behind them, you pluck up a red berry and stick it in your mouth. It’s tender flesh is sweet, just as you asked for.

“Fruits and sweets, my dear?” Maul teases, tilting his head so that one of his eyes catches yours, “You are too kind.”

A grin curls up your lips mischievously, and you slide your hands up his back, kneading at his strong shoulders. Maul groans, and you lean in so that your lips just barely brush the curve of his earlobe. 

“Take your pick, my love. I’ve heard the berries are juicy this year.” You coo, nipping Maul’s ear as you pull away. Your husband growls low in his chest, glaring up at you with a single blistering yellow eye. You almost expect Maul to move, but considering how boneless he’s allowed himself to go from the magic you’re working with your fingers, he doesn’t.

By the time you’ve focused on his tense shoulders, Maul’s hips have started to undulate, grinding against the mattress. You’re really fairing no better, failing to resist the urge to tilt your hips and press your core to the thigh muscles beneath you. When Maul lets out a strained groan, both from the pleasure of you kneading his shoulders and the friction on his presumably hardening length, you moan softly.

“Maul.” You only sigh his name, the warmth in your belly sinking low to the apex between your legs. The way you have him like putty beneath your hands, all lax and groaning and purring with pleasure... it makes you feel proud and immensely horny. Here he lies, Maul the Mand’alor, humping the bed like a dog in rut all because you— his wife— have rendered him placid and aroused.

“Does it feel nice?” You ask coyly, eyes heavy lidded, but you already know the answer— Maul shows it with each thrust of his hips against the bed. He must sense your amusement, and his single-eyed glare bores into yours again, his gaze a bit dewy with lust. You’ve reduced your Lord and lover to a groaning, horny mess— much like he does you, but that’s neither here nor there.

“Look at what you do to me.” He hisses, and groans again when you press the balls of your palms deep to the dip of his spine. His spine arches, hips stuttering on a thrust, and you press your palms deep into his back again. He groans even louder, cursing loudly, body stuttering.

“I enjoy it.” You giggle, hands leaving his crimson skin to apply more of the oil to your hands. You intend to continue until he comes without your cunt around his length, but as you’re distracted, Maul takes his chance. In an instant, he pushes off of the bed and you go tumbling to the side. Maul’s lightning quick reflexes both catches you, and flips you so that he’s on top and you lay on your back on the bed.

You didn’t even get the chance to yelp, it all happened so quickly.

Any attempt to struggle is met with a low growl from your lover. Maul straddles your hips and snatches your wrists in an iron grip. You’re panting, eyelids drooping, and relinquishing any control you have left. Maul notices how you go lax and smirks.

“Good choice.” He drawls, slowly and pointedly raising your hands above your head. A warning look in his fiery eyes tells you to keep them put. You do. Lord Maul is not someone to be disobeyed. He leans in close, kissing the jugular vein in your neck, biting lightly at your ear lobe. You whine, squirming beneath him.

“You know better than to attempt to reign over me, dearest.” Maul hisses against the side of your face, body pressed so tightly to yours the warmth of his presence is almost overwhelming. A broken whimper passes your lips when you recognize the swell of his erection against your thigh, the simple touch of it sending shockwaves through your body. Maul shifts to settle himself between your legs, spreading your thighs with his knees. Briefly, his fiery eyes flit down to catch sight of your dripping pussy, and a bestial growl escapes him.

Maul leans in to kiss you passionately, hungrily swallowing at you as if you’re his last meal. You moan lightly into the kiss, tasting the jogan fruit on his tongue, basking in the heat of his mouth. One of his crimson hands scoops under the low of your back, lifting your hips up off the bed, while the other firmly grasps your chin, forcing your eyes to remain on him.

“What a sneaky, little minx you are.” He teases, rolling his hips deliciously slow to grind his cock against your aching core. Maul takes in the reaction it causes in you, how your eyelids flutter, the parting of your lips, the sweet shock of pleasure.

“You guide me to our bed and attempt to dull me with a massage?” He continues, rutting his hips harder, his cock hot and hard against your pussy. You gasp, and Maul swallows it with the deep kiss he steals from your parted lips. When he parts, he grins, “So devious and cruel, my love.”

A breathy laugh passes your lips, and you smile— a tad silly looking— and you meet his molten gaze through heavy-lidded eyelids. Maul’s thumb traces the curve of your chin, then your jaw, then rests on the soft of your cheek.

“Says you.” You giggle, lolling your head into the sheets when Maul places wet kisses to the side of your neck. He digs his fingertips into the flesh of your ass when you continue, “You’re the one that’s cruel, Maul. Not me.”

Maul pulls away harshly, laughing. It’s the thick, rich one that you’ve come to learn means he’s about to do something terrible. He meets your eyes again, his palm still flat over your cheek. Then your lover winks, his eyes blistering, and promises with a wicked grin:

“I’ll show you cruel.” 

#star wars #star wars darth maul #darth maul x reader #darth maul x you #darth maul #anon #anon ask #request #star wars maul #maul #maul x reader #orion answers

[thedo0zyslider]

Life Transfers - 13k Words

Lives in Last Life are transferred through kisses, which leads to some interesting situations, to say the least

(Most scenes in this fic aren't accurate to canon at all because i am not going to watch ten peoples last lives to find all the clips lmao)

A03 Link

It's sunset when Grian and Scar finally decide to test out the life sharing system. 

The first day had been smooth so far, aside from that one little mystery. No one had yet to figure out how to give another player a life, and there were many frustrating attempts in chat to attest to it. 

Grian turns to Scar as the sun begins to set, a mischievous smile on his face. Scar feels a shudder run down his spine when the other pierces him with that look, but it was a good kind of shiver. 

"I think I figured out how to transfer lives!" Grian smiles up at him, some of his sharper teeth on display. 

"Really know?" Scar smiles back, feeling the mood shift slightly. "How so?" His voice purposely dips a little lower, eyes following Grian’s as they flick down to his lips; and linger there a little too long. 

"I think you already know how." Grian mutters, moving closer. The two are only inches apart now, and he can feel one of the avian's hands snaking up his arm, claws catching on the fabric. Grian knows he's guessed already, because he wouldn't be moving forward if he didn't. Scar thinks he guessed how to transfer lives a little bit ago, right when the sun started to set. 

"Then let's get on with it, pretty bird~" He hums, leaning closer just a bit. He notices how Grian’s wings flutter at the compliment, and tries not to look at the others lips for too long. 

"I'll take one, then give it right back, I promise." The avian mutters, then stands on his tiptoes, and Scar just looks at him fondly. 

Grian grabbed the front of Scar's robe, pulling him forward ever so slightly. The taller just hummed, leaning downwards even further to meet the blonde in the middle. Well, more like bump noses and then just stare into each other’s eyes for a minute. They were a little hesitant, after everything that had happened before now….during the last game that was. 

Eventually, Scar decided he was growing tired of waiting, and finally moved to press their lips together. Grian kissed back hungrily, like he'd starve without the other's touch, and Scar reached up to cup the avian's face in his hands. The kiss was a little messy, a little desperate, and Scar wished they weren't standing in such an open space; just so he could press Grian to a tree or something and really go to town. 

He felt how the life transferred from him to Grian. It was a little off putting, Scar had to be honest. But if transferring lives was the whole point of the games, he supposed he could get used to it. The brunette could only describe it as well, literally feeling your life force, part of your soul be taken from you. It was powerful, and Scar was pretty sure the process made Grian pause a little as well, mostly by the way his breath hitched in what could only be described as momentary shock. 

It was powerful, but not unpleasant. Maybe it was even a little enjoyable, intoxicating even. Maybe that was Scar's brain confusing the transfer with kissing Grian. 

They stayed locked together for much longer than necessary. Grian did however, start to pull away, right when Scar’s lungs really started to burn for air. He slipped his tongue out of the wizard's mouth a little reluctantly, and Scar had been so lost in the moment he didn't even know when they'd started using tongue. 

Scar's eyes fluttered open slowly, meeting Grian own half lidded gaze, their faces still staying close together. The avian's eyes were no longer the pretty, pale yellow they had been before, and were now a nice looking light green. The color was similar to Scar's usual eye color, and he vaguely remembered Grian commenting on how he couldn’t tell normal Scar apart from green life Scar sometimes. 

“How many lives did you have?” The blonde muttered softly against his lips. 

“Six,” Scar replied, not really expecting anything to come of that. It wasn't that big of a deal in his opinion, the brunette was sure there were plenty of other six and two lifers out there in the world. 

The avian pulled back suddenly, talons tightening on the fabric of his robes. Scar blinked, surprised at how quickly the smaller pulled away. 

"I'm not giving this back!" Grian exclaimed, stepping back a good few feet.

"Wait a minute, mister!" Scar said, letting a little irritation seep into his voice. "That's not what you promised!" 

"You have five more!" The blonde argued back, his wings starting to unfold. If this were any other place, he's sure the little bird would have flown away already, but this world won't allow him to do that. Grian clearly doesn't like that fact, and has to stop himself from instinctively taking off. 

"And you made a promise!" Scar takes another step forward, and Grian takes another step back. The wizard can see it in his eyes, the way the avian is trying to think, to worm his way out of this with three lives still intact. And Scar doesn't like that one bit. 

Grian figured it out eventually, and smiled at him gently. Scar, not for the first time, wishes he wasn’t so charming, or even pretty, like that. "If you ever have less lives than me, I'll give it back? Okay?" 

Scar knows it's too good to be true, and he knows Grian. He knows, logically,  that that's never going to happen. Grian will never have less lives than him, because Scar is klutzy and acts all scatterbrained half the time. And if he gets close to it, Grian will make sure he doesn't get his stolen hearts back from him. He knows that the man can't keep a promise

But he's going to take it anyway. 

"Okay." The wizard smiles, hoping to look like he doesn't see through the blonde's little lies. "That's fine with me!" He doesn't know why he agrees, but he thinks it because he still wants to trust Grian. To love him even. 

The smaller smiles up at him even wider. "Then I'll be taking my leave, good sir!" He punctuates the words with a dramatic little bow, then disappears into the forest in the blink of an eye. 

Scar stands there for a minute, the sun dipping lower in the sky behind him, and watches as one of his lives runs away. He thinks his heart was taken with it too. He hopes he'll get to steal it back someday, hopes he'll get to steal another sweet taste of Grian’s lips. Just one more time, because one more time never hurts, does it? 

_______________________________

Scott sat on a chest, one in the relatively new base he and his ally had started to set up. He and Pearl had taken a day or so to set up a small starter area, not too deep in the nearby spruce forest, and all the while one problem had loomed over them. 

A part of this new, fun and exciting death game, was a more complicated life system than the first. This one relied on being able to give one of your lives to another, and it seemed like it would be a pretty big part of the upcoming weeks. Especially since a player could only spawn with six, but there was no limit on how many lives one could gain after spawning. 

All seventeen of them had been a bit stumped on exactly how to share lives. Scott and Pearl had done some experimenting naturally. They tried to see if it was like, some sort of mental thing? Like if you really, really focused you could give someone a part of your soul. Yeah that hadn’t worked, and Scott was soon content to just let Grian (and his weird little admin powers) figure it out after that. 

Grian had found out the way to transfer lives was kissing, and Scott wasn't very interested in finding out how he did that, but his brain unhelpfully supplied a few guesses anyway. 

Yeah, that was gonna be a bit of a problem . He didn't kiss girls, and also didn't casually kiss his friends on the lips, so the situation was bound to be a little awkward. Scott wasn't the only one who found it a little bit of a um, roadblock per say, based on his servermates reactions in chat. 

Now he sat on a chest, slowly kicking his feet back and forth, while Pearl stood crafting something nearby, and Scott decided it was probably time to confront the problem. Two lives wasn't a lot of lives to have, not when he could die so easily, on top of the fact that there was a boogeyman lying around. It was setting him on edge, the longer he stayed yellow.

“So, how are we gonna do the whole transferring lives thing?” Scott asked, filling the silence between them. “No offense Pearl, but I really don’t wanna kiss you.”

Pearl took no offense to that as he expected, just nodding in agreement. He'd assumed she naturally also wasn't up for kissing one of her friends, like most people on the server. Well, Scar seemed to be up for it, but Scar was a different case. The wizard was just like that.  

She pursed her lips together in thought. It did take a few moments of comfortable silence, Scott swinging his legs back and forth as he let Pearl think, but eventually, her eyes lit up. “Well, no one ever specified it had to be on the lips, Gri just said it had to be a kiss .” She said, mouth quirking upward into a sly smile. 

“Pearl, you’re a genius!” Scott gasped, legs now swinging with excitement and the soles of his sneakers lightly bumping against the chest's closed lid. He was over the moon, happy that he could easily receive some extra lives. Those were going to be very valuable in this game it seemed, and his only other option was to go….like bribe someone else or something. He doubted there were very many people willing to hand a life over to a non ally, let alone kiss that person as well. 

"Yep, I know I am!" She smiled in return, taking a few steps closer. The two now stood close, Scott's shoes brushing Pearl’s knees from where he sat on the chest. They were quite close, but it was more comfortable, less awkward than some people might be in a similar situation. 

Pearl reached forward, wiggling her eyebrows playfully. Scott rolled his eyes with an amused huff, letting her take one of his hands in hers. 

Getting kissed on the hand didn't bother him, no, Scott had received hand kisses enough times for the sensation to be familiar to him. It was the whole…life swapping part that made him jump out of his skin a little. It was somehow gentle, yet powerful at the same time, the new sensation crashing over him like a tidal wave. Pearl felt it too, a full body shiver running through her as she gave up one of her lives. Maybe that particular feeling differed from person to person, but Scott didn't know that for sure, all he knew was that their life switching had a very strong sensation to it. 

All this happened in only a few seconds, a minute if Scott was being generous, but it felt like a lot longer. Pearl moved away with a few surprised blinks after it was done. 

"It feels like I just…put my soul into your hand or somethin'." She muttered

"Well, I hope it wasn't your whole soul, you kinda need that to live." Scott retorted, and the other moved a few steps back so he could jump down from the chest. Pearl huffed in amusement, offering a hand to help him steady himself as he stood again. 

"Don't think it was, but thanks for worrying." She smiled. 

Scott was about to open his mouth, a polite little thank you on the tip of his tongue. He was cut off by Pearl suddenly grabbing his face, holding his cheeks in her hands. "Oooh! Your eyes turned green!" She exclaimed in slight wonder, turning his head; as if examining it. Scott blinked in surprise, as he hadn’t really been expecting his face to be cupped and held. 

It took him a moment to realize, but of course Pearl would be a little surprised. She hadn’t been in the previous game, and therefore wasn't aware of things like eye color changing with a player's life count. She'd been surprised that his eyes were yellow earlier as well, instead of their usual light blue. 

"Yep! They do that!" He giggled, staring back into her own, darker green eyes for a minute. He moved his own hands on top of hers, taking them off his face with another little giggle. Pearl muttered a quick, quiet apology, one that wasn’t really needed. The newly made green life wasn’t too bothered by her enthusiasm. 

After that they moved on like nothing had happened, Pearl resuming her crafting and Scott rummaging through one of the chests with a light hum. They'd probably have to do that again, and if they wanted to prolong it the two needed a farm. You couldn't regenerate health and stop yourself from dying without food of course. So making a farm was probably in order, and Scott was more than happy to have something to do with his hands. 

♡

The next time they swap lives the circumstances are a little more serious than before. 

Scott had just been boogey killed by Joel, which was rude , and he was back down to yellow. Pearl said it felt like they’d gotten nowhere, like they'd taken one step forward and two steps back, and Scott had to agree. He'd only been green for like, 3 days maybe! The only good thing about their previous transfer was that it kept him from red, yet he had to wonder that maybe if he'd stayed yellow Joel wouldn't have gone after him. 

It didn't matter now, because what's done was done. Scott was yellow again, their previous transfer felt a little useless, and Pearl had made a promise to share her lives with him. 

This time they got straight to the point, strangely used to the process after doing it their first time. Pearl kissed him on the cheek this time, and Scott shivered as the life force flowed through him once more. She leaned back with a smile, eyes still thankfully a dark green shade. "There ya go!" 

"Thank you very much!" He returned the smile, nudging her playfully. Pearl giggled at him

♡

The third, and thankfully final time they needed to do this, was a bit later on in the game. Cleo had joined them, turning their little duo into a trio. The zombie was a perfect ally, an ideal third member. And when Cleo needed a life, and Pearl didn't have many more to give, Scott was glad to offer his own. 

“So, how do you guys do this, exactly?” Cleo asked, hand casually resting on her waist. “I know some people like to get… intimate with it…”

"Oh, no no no!" Scott said, making a face at the mere thought. "We don't do it like that!" 

Cleo's face brightened a bit at that, and relief shone clearly in her eyes. "Thank god." She sighed. "No offense, I just don't want to…do that with either of you." 

"No offense taken!" Pearl pipes up, legs swinging. She's sitting on chest, much like Scott had been the first time they'd done this, and he wants to smile at the parallel. 

Instead of that Scott decides to get this over with, make it painless and less awkward. He holds out his hand, and Cleo puts their own in his curiously. Scott smiles and leans down, and presses a quick yet effective kiss to the back of their decaying hand. 

Giving up a life is different than receiving one, just a little. The latter feels like something is being added to you, to your soul, while the former feels like giving up a part of yourself; a very big part. It's not unpleasant per say, and definitely something he could see himself getting used to if he did this a few more times. He doesn't want to get used to it. 

He pulls away, the transfer causing both of them to shiver. Cleo simply thanks him, and the newly made trio trudges along with their day as normal. 

_______________________________

“Joel!” Tango called, finding where the man had set up for the time being. “Joel!?” The blonde had an idea, one for a little minigame, and he was basically gonna try it out on every person he managed to run into. If Joel was home, he’d be lucky contestant number one! 

“Tango?” A familiar voice came from atop the mountain, from the weird little dirt shack at the top. “That you mate?” The blaze brightened up at that, because Joel was indeed home! This was going brilliantly already! He watched, tail flicking, as the man made his way down towards the base of the mountain, where he seemed to be keeping his stuff. Tango didn’t know why he’d be in Scar’s house, but it was probably for some kinda scam reason, if he knew Scar; and he liked to think that he did. 

“Hi Joel!” Tango smiled, taking in his new appearance. The man wore a wizard robe, which tipped him off to the theme of this particular alliance. The man seemed a little taller, well more than a little, because he was now a good inch taller than the blazeborn, and they had been around the same height before. People usually didn’t change size in these games, just appearances, but if Joel wanted to be tall for once, who was Tango to judge the wants of his short brethren? Joel had a beard now as well, and quite an impressive one to say the least. 

“What brings you here?” The wizard asked, not suspicious at all. After all, why would he be? Tango was green, and the boogeyman had already gone and wacked Grian earlier that day. Oh, this was absolutely perfect!

“I just have a little proposition for you!” He smiles, hands being shoved into his pockets. “A little game even!”

“Oh?” Joel asked, already intrigued. “What is it?” “It’s called You Bet Your Life!” The blazeborn announces, tail flicking behind him. “Basically, you give me a life and then bet on the person who dies next. If you pick the right person, then you get all the lives I’ve collected!” Tango explains if cheerl;y, wide smile on his face, and knows Joel is in by the way his eyes light up. 

“Oh you have a deal, mate!” The other laughs, returning the smile he’s given. It looks a little eerie on him, but that’s no problem. A betting customer is a betting customer, weird smile or not! He didn’t even asl any questions, like if this was a scam! It was not a scam, by the way, he’d never do such a thing. A game like this showed people he was trustworthy, which was a very valuable thing here. 

“Sooo, who ya betting on?” He asks, knowing most people would most likely want to do that before handing over the life. 

“Jimmy.” Joel's answer is immediate and confident, and he snickers at that. Pretty good bet if he’s being honest. The little canary is great and all, but the universe tends to screw him over a little too much for him to make it for. 

“Good choice!” Tango purrs. “Now how do you want to do the uhh, life transfer?” He asks, suddenly becoming a little awkward. Joel’s a great guy and all, but he doesn’t really wanna lock lips with him. He doesn’t think Joel wants to do that either, based on the look on his face. 

“Maybe I can just….?” Joel muttered, making a motion towards Tango’s hand. He nodded, removing his right hand from his pocket a little slowly. He holds it out, and Joel presses a quick kiss to it before pulling back. They both shuddered a little at the new sensation, Joel even stumbling when he stood a little. Transferring a life felt weird, definitely, but the blazeborn knew he’d have to get used to it sooner or later, especially if he wanted this game to succeed.

He waved goodbye to Joel only a moment after, and went in a random direction, trying to find the next contestant. 

♡

His next victim is Bdubs, who’s a little suspicious in all honesty. But Tango knows him well, and knows exactly how to lure Bdubs into a deal. 

“I’ll give you a clock~” Tango purrs, leaning into the shorter personal space. “You give me a life, and I’ll give you a clock for an allyship?” He smiles at how Bdubs flushes at the closeness, and how his eyes become all wide and hopeful. “And, and! If you win, you can have three whole lives on top of that!” He knows he should probablyyy ask Skizz before going and making any more allies, but he thinks it a good idea. Etho and Bdubs are all by themselves, and four heads are always better than one…

“Fine! Let’s get this over with!” Bdubs huffed dramatically. Now Tango was expecting a peck on the cheek, or something, maybe the forehead. But before he knew it, Bdubs was right in front of him, and his red eyes were meeting the other wide ones. Their faces were only a few inches apart now, and he felt his breath hitch in his throat. He wasn’t very opposed to the idea of kissing the smaller on the lips, he found that he welcomed it actually. That, and why Bdubs himself seemed so eager as well, were definitely thoughts for later. 

Bdubs grabbed his face, hand tilting Tango's chin, and the blaze thought he stopped breathing for a good second. Their lips connect a moment after that, and warmth clouds his thoughts and runs through his limbs, making them all feel like jelly. 

As the one transferring lives, Bdubs takes control of the kiss, and Tango is glad to let him. It's a quick kiss, all things considered, and especially compared to the ones he'll have later in the game, but it's enjoyable nonetheless. The hand on his chin moves to hold Tango's face, and he melts into the touch completely. The blazeborn let's Bdubs's other hand grab the back of his head, tilting it and deepening the kiss.

He whined, feeling the life start to flow through him. He’s never received one…this way before, and it sure is intense. But in a good way. The force of it shook his limbs slightly, and his hands moved to grip soft, curled hair while it did. Bdubs shudders as well, at the life or the hair pulling Tango doesn’t know, and slips his tongue into Tango’s mouth. 

They pull away with a gasp a few minutes after, the blazeborn dazed and maybe looking at Bdubs a little dreamily. The other has a similar look on his face, lips now red and puffed up. Before stepping back he presses a few, chaste kisses to Tango’s jawline, and the blonde leans into it happily. 

Bdubs places his bet, then leaves promptly after. Tango stands, watching him go, and maybe wishes to do that again sometimes. 

♡

He finds Etho later that day, and the man is surprisingly open to the idea. He knows Etho is the person to go along with whatever he thinks is fun or whatever, but handing away a life is a little more serious. It requires a little more thought is all, and Etho looks like his mind was made up immediately, as soon as the blazeborn opened his mouth. 

"How do you wanna do this?" Tango asks, scanning Ethos' face. The man looks a little sly right now, and he's not sure what kind of response is gonna come out of that mouth. He'd made a good habit of asking that question, considering some people wanted a wholly platonic way to do this, while others wanted a more passionate exchange. 

"How about…" Etho smiles in response, drawing out the last few syllables. "We do it on the lips?" The way he says it is very cheeky, and almost a little hopeful. Like he's been looking forward to this, like he wants to kiss Tango for other , non life related reasons. (And maybe he himself did too.)

The blazeborn gawks at him, very caught off guard. He was expecting him to say forehead or something, not lips. Mainly because that requires taking off the mask, and in all their years of friendship he's never seen Etho take it off. The most he'd done is lift it up a bit when he needed to eat, and even then people would graciously move their gaze away from the singular inch of his face that was visible. So yeah, Etho taking his mask off, especially when he has other options? Unheard of. 

"You sure about that?" The blaze asks, dropping all his stupid salesmen persona stuff. He's already thinking of other ways to do this, wondering if a kiss through the mask itself would count. He doubts it a little, but does hope the universe could make an expectation like that, that it ever cared enough to give Etho comfortable options like that. 

Instead of baking out Etho just takes a few steps closer, and Tango stops himself from taking a step back, well aware he'd crash directly into a tree if he did. "Yeah." He confirms, leaning downwards. The two are practically eye level now, and Tango knows that he's not getting around this. Etho’s good eye is sparkling with mischief, and both of them are already flicking down to his lips. "Besides, I wanna see what Bdubs was raving about earlier." Etho mutters, and a shiver runs through Tango at the words. Well, at least someone thinks he's good at this kissing stuff. 

The blaze feels his face begin to flush, and Etho sees it, because his eyes turn even more mischievous and he looks even more satisfied with himself. "Didn't know you flustered this easily…" He can see Etho smiling, indicated by the way the corner of his eyes crinkle. Eyes that are suddenly very pretty, Tango finds. 

He feels a hand start to trace his face, and shivers again. Etho had begun to run his fingers along Tango's jaw, doing so a little  seductively. The blonde flushes further, failing to hold back the purr that spills out of his throat. The other just smiles wider, and thumbs at Tango's bottom lip. 

"Well, if you're okay with this…." The blonde mutters once he's done purring, head cheek rubbing into Etho’s palm all cat-like. And he means it too. Tango is more than comfortable with this, and all he wants is that Etho is as well. And maybe kissing him won't be so weird, especially if he's going to be pet and caressed like that . 

"Very okay with this, don't worry." Etho hums, his other hand going to cover Tango's eyes. "Now, no peeking!"

He laughs at that, and promptly closes his eyes. He feels Etho remove his hand at one point, presumably to take off the mask, but his eyes stay firmly shut. His tail flicks behind him idly as he waits, still leaning into the hand placed on his cheek. 

It's only a minute later when he feels a nose bump with his, and Tango properly leans forward. Etho lets out a huff of amusement at that, and closes the gap between. Their lips meet, and the feeling is electric. Both men are quickly lost in it, the minigame in the back of their minds as they press closer together. Hands rest on Tango's waist, and he moves to make the kiss a little more passionate. Etho hums into it as a response, whining as sharp teeth start nipping at his bottom lips. 

The other might set the pace, but it's Tango who takes full charge of the exchange. He pulls Etho closer with hands cupping his face, feeling his own back hit something as he does. Etho doesn't seem to mind, letting out a pleased noise as hands grip at his face and he's pulled further down. He does nothing, just kisses Tango into a tree best he can, while the latter slips his tongue into Etho’s mouth and absolutely goes to town. He starts getting noises out of Etho as well, and just gets extra confirmation that he's good at this kissing thing. 

One of Tango's hands starts to explore Etho’s face as he does, thumbing over his cheeks and jawline. It's a sight he doesn't want to see, because Etho doesn't want him to see it, so the blaze makes sure to memorize it in any way he can. Eventually he's holding both of Etho’s cheeks in his hands, memorizing every scar and blemish of his lower face, how soft his skin feels and the shape of his jaw. He memorizes Ethos' mouth as well, an easy task to do really. Tango's tongue explores every inch of it, tracing over the back of his teeth, his inner cheeks, absolutely everything . The man tastes nice too, something else he's sure to remember; along with the chapped yet pleasant feeling of Etho’s lips themselves. 

Tango groaned, hands starting to roam under his shirt. Etho’s nails scraped against his skin nicely, and the blonde shivered and leaned into this kiss further as he did. The taller started to take charge of ot again, slipping his own tongue into Tango's mouth. It was then that the life began to transfer, and it was very similar to the feeling he'd gotten from Bdubs earlier. It was a passionate thing, and very intense. He groans as it courses through him, finally becoming putty against hold. s hold. Tango melts entirely, and lets Etho kiss him as hard as he pleases; even when his lungs start screaming for oxygen. 

Eventually, they pulled away, hands still roaming under Tango's shirt.  He keeps his eyes closed, puffs of another person's breath landing on his face. He feels Etho’s gaze piercing him, watching as the blaze leans his head back. The hands, which are maddeningly cold by the way, move up higher, flicking teasingly over his chest. Tango's own hands moved to grip at white hair, while Etho’s own started to thumb a little teasingly at his waistband. 

Just as Tango catches his breath he feels someone's warm breath on his neck. And okay, wasn’t expecting that, but he's not gonna stop Etho. He's never known the guy to give into his urges like this, and who's he to say he can't indulge a little. The man is also very good at this, evident by the groan he gets from Tango, lips being placed on the blazeborn's neck slowly. 

Tango groans again, craving his beck further backwards with a whine. Etho just smirks against his skin, and places a few open mouth kisses on his throat. They don't stay like this for long, but he makes each one pleasurable, sucking at softly biting at the blazeborn's neck with each movement of his mouth. Etho pulled away with a wet popping sound, and Tango makes another sound, falling against the taller man's frame. 

Etho giggles at that, and mutters into the blonde hair that his mask is back on, and that he can look. Tango doesn't open his eyes immediately, content to just bury his head into Etho’s jacket for a moment. His legs do still feel a bit weak after all. 

"Am I that good?" The other asks, cold hands tugging at the collar of Tango's shirt. He just hums, letting his new hickeys be hidden by the perpetrator, and slowly lifts his head up. 

Etho's eyes are shining with something, something that could very easily be called affection. Love even. Tango thinks he has a similar look in his eyes, amidst the dazedness of them of course. 

“Yes!’ He huffs, tail wrapping around one of Etho’s legs. He moves up to place a quick kiss on his cheek, but can only really reach his jawline unfortunately. Damn shortness. So that’s what Tango settles on, peppering kisses into Etho’s jaw, doing so against the cool fabric of his mask until the other asks if they can untangle themselves. Which Tango does do, but only after getting Etho to bet on someone like he was supposed to. 

When Bdubs and his masked friend ask for him and Skizz to join forces a few days later, Tango is a little more than overjoyed. His ally just accepts, and looks at him a little weirdly, but says nothing on it. He’s pretty sure Skizz caught a glimpse of the hickey anyways, and the other is smart enough to put the pieces together. Tango just hopes that the new team will bring a few more of those kisses to him, and he hopes that if it does; it’ll be very, very soon.  

♡

The last and final person to participate in the game is Lizzie, one of the three newer members to these games. She’s a strange one, that fairy is, but in a good way. She also had a growing alliance, so it was probably a good thing to be on positive terms with her. 

She was in one it as soon as he explained it in full. “I’m betting on Joel!” The fairy declared, and Tango hadn’t even had a chance to ask that question before she jumped on the opportunity. 

“No faith in your husband, huh?” He asked, holding out his hand. 

“Nope!” Lizzie said, and he could tell she really had no faith in his first customer at all. She placed a quick kiss on his hand, and Tango didn’t even shiver at the feeling. His most heated encounters made this feel like nothing at all.

Not even twenty minutes later he was running back to the fairy fort, running to congratulate his winner.  

♡ 

“Lizzie!” There’s a familiar voice calling her name through the trees, rapidly approaching the fairy fort. The fairy leader turns towards the sound, right as Tango bursts into her clearing. He has a wide smile on his face, one that mirrors her own, and they share a little victory laugh. 

“You won!” He calls, walking further into the area.

“I did!” Lizzie responds, wings fluttering out behind her in joy. Joel, her husband, the person she betted on, had died almost right after she made her bet. The fairy doubts Tango even got far, because he’d only left her base around seven minutes ago, and now he’s already crashed back in. The blazeborn laughs again, and pulls her into a crushing side hug of celebration. She joins in the laughter as well, pumping her fists up in the air as she does. 

“Now gimme those lives!” She smiles when they move away, no longer embracing. 

“Yes ma'am!” Tango salutes at her, and takes her hand when she offers it. Four, quick kisses are pressed to the back of it, and she shivers less with each transfer, now solidly use to the sensation. Which is good, considering she’ll probably be doing it again soon. 

Tango leaves after that, clearly still in an elated mood. And Lizzie waits for people to come by, or for her allies to come home. Most people probably know that she’s won, and it’s only a matter of time before people come trying to get an extra life or two. 

Over the next few days they were all handed off one by one. First it was to Ren, her most loyal ally, and Scott and Pearl, in exchange for a favor or something of the like. Lizzie was confident in her choices, having given three lives away to what she felt like were trustworthy people, and one staying all to herself.

_______________________________

There was another life Tango exchanged over the past few days, one very annoyingly not a part of his game. Skizz listened to him grumble about it for a while, in between the excited rants about his minigame. 

Cleo had approached him one day, and the blazeborn had a pretty good idea of what they wanted. The zombie had that smile on her face, one of those where you had a deal to strike and you knew you would get away with it. His tail flicked against the floor as he greeted them, eyes narrowed slightly. 

“Hi Cleo!” He called, flashing his best toothy grin

“Hi Tango!” She called back, voice sickly sweet as she approached further. Yep, definitely up to something. “What can I do for you?” He asked, hands being placed on his hips. The two stood face to face now, only a foot apart. His tail kept flicking behind him, it was more of an unconscious thing really. Cleo’s eyes moved to it for a second, before returning to Tango’s face. 

“I have a deal for you, if you’ll take it.” Cleo said. 

“Oh, what’s it gonna be?” Tango kept up the toothy, cat-like grin as he spoke. He just hoped this deal wasn’t a scam, because he had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to avoid it.

“I’ve been going around the server selling sugarcane, trying to prevent another monopoly,” The zombie began, taking out some sugar cane to show it to him. Tango nodded, eyeing the precious plant. “And i was thinking, if you give me a life, you can get some of this!” They ended the explanation with a smile, clapping their hands together.   

“Hmmm,” The blazeborn hummed, clasping his hands behind his back. “I’m not sure about that, lives are pretttyyy valuable…”

“You could have all the TNT you want though.” Cleo reasoned, and that did sound very tempting. “And you have nine lives right now.” 

“Ugh, fine! ” He huffed, making grabby hands towards the sugarcane. “I’ll take your stupid deal!” 

Cleo smiled widely at him, clearly very satisfied with her win. “Perfect!” The zombie tossed the plant to him a little too haphazardly for the blazeborn’s liking, and he scrambled to catch it all before it fell. “Now for the life, please!” 

Tango grumbled something inaudible, something he’d absolutely be repeating to Skizz later, and leaned in. He kissed the zombie on the cheek, the less decayed one, and felt one of his precious, precious rewards for his game slip through his fingers. The blazeborn had transferred many lives, so this was a normal feeling to him. Cleo clearly hadn’t done this before, indicated by the full body shudder that ran through her. First transfers tended to do something like that, their bodies not used to the new sensation of literally being given life. 

He moved away, his smile a little less wide and maybe a little sour. Cleo just thanked him, and took her leave. Tango turned to go back inside without a second thought, thinking of how he needed to probably get two more lives for You Bet Your Life , just to be on the safe side. 

_______________________________

The Southlanders sat around in their little circle, doing the daily trust exercise. It started the same way every morning, one of them would give up a life, which would be passed around the circle until it returned to its original owner. Today was Impulse’s turn, and part of his soul was already being kissed into Martyn.

They usually didn’t do on the mouth kisses for life transfer, sticking to cheeks or foreheads or hands instead. Well there had been that one time Martyn got bold, and kissed Mumbo right on the mouth, leaving his husband a cute and flustered little mess. When Mumbo went to give that life to Grian, the little avian had copied him, clearly not liking Martyn’s little stunt. The blonde didn't like his either, and he had felt something sour turn in his gut at the sight. That was his husband, thank you very much, and all seventeen of them had agreed stuff from other servers didn’t matter here. (Unless you were Lizzie and Joel, married by default, that is.) Safe to say, Jimmy and Impulse had kept the two blonde's far away from each other for a while, and left Mumbo to flounder in between them helplessly. 

He’d sat next to Jimmy today, and after receiving the life from Grian, turned to press a cheeky little kiss to Jimmy’s cheek. For some reason, the thought gave him a few butterflies, which was strange, because he didn’t get those for Jimmy. Not before now anyways. In hindsight, the little, imaginary insects might’ve been a warning to what would come only five minutes later. They thankfully didn’t linger for too long, and after he’d done the deed, Martyn turned back, expecting the ritual to go as it always did. 

That was until Jimmy decided to book it, and run away with Impulse’s life. There were exclamations of surprise from the rest of them, watching as the man booked it out the door. All four of the remaining Southlander’s moved to chase after, but Martyn was the one to truly start sprinting. Jimmy wasn’t getting away with that cheap trick, no way in hell . Not on his watch. 

Jimmy stopped running once the tree started to clear, apparently thinking he himself was also in the clear. Martyn took the opportunity, legs burning from his sprint, and surged forward. “‘Ey Tim!” He calls, irritation seeping into his tone, almost hissing out the other blonde’s name. “The bloody hell was that for!?” 

Jimmy’s spun around to face him as soon as the first word leaves Martyn’s mouth, and his own irritated gaze meets a stubborn, almost indignant one. “I’m not giving this back! No way!” He calls, and moves to start running again. 

Martyn closes the distance between them with a yell. “Give it back!” He gets a hold of Jimmy’s wrist, pulling both of them backwards slightly. The taller thrashes in his hold, twisting under the blonde’s tight grasp, desperate to free his arm. Martyn, realizing his grip is tight enough to leave some pretty bad bruises, lessens it. He lessens it way more than either man was probably expecting him too really, eyes wide as an idea pops into his head. 

Jimmy looks at him, clearly puzzled, and is able to slip his arm free. Martyn’s own arm falls to his side, and he tries to gather his words; watching as Jimmy doesn’t leave, just puts a few feet of distance between them. He’s stupid really, to stand there instead of running. Anyone else would’ve, but not Jimmy. Because he is curious and kind, and wants to know why his allies' eyes have widened with something he can’t describe. Martyn almost wishes he hadn’t had the idea, but he can’t think of any other way to get the life back, because Jimmy has to be the one to transfer it. So he needs to make sure the man is willing to do that, and sadly cannot just run up and kiss him to get it over with.

"Give it back, please?" Martyn says, letting his voice become softer as he seems to force out each word. "Give it back, and we'll run away together, just me and you, okay?" He almost whispers it, his voice has gone so quiet. He doesn't know why he's promising this, when he has a perfectly good husband waiting for him already. A husband he loves very much, mind you. 

Jimmy looks at him, his own expression suddenly softening. He studies Martyn, brown gaze tearing through him; he has to hold back a shiver, his friend's gaze is so intent, so searching. He wonders if Jimmy is longing for something like the last game, the thing that was unfairly taken from him far too soon (By Martyn’s own ally no less, but he doesn't let himself linger on that thought for long.) He wonders if Jimmy wants just himself and someone else that he can love, tucked away from the rest of the cruel world. Because his eyes are almost hopeful, yet cautious, and it surprisingly makes Martyn’s heart ache.  

"Okay, I'll give it back." Jimmy agrees, a little hesitant and a little hopeful. Part of Martyn’s own heart seems to beam at that, and wonders if he wants that too. He wonders if he himself wants to run away to a quiet little corner, to leave the Southlands, his husband, and run away with Jimmy specifically. It doesn't sound half bad, except for the fact that it wouldn't be quiet. They'd have three former friends calling them traitors and lobbying for their heads; and Martyn has a sinking feeling he wouldn’t be the first to die.

Martyn smiles at the taller man's words, and takes a step closer. This isn't a normal sharing game anymore, and they're alone now, no Grian to get jealous of you kissing your own damn husband. Even though the only person who could get jealous about Martyn kissing Jimmy is Scott, and the blonde has a feeling even he wouldn't mind this much. Because Jimmy seems to want it just as much as Martyn does, brown eyes now sparkling with anticipation. Martyn never thought he wanted this before now, but there was a very new, and very loud, very persistent urge to kiss that boy absolutely stupid.  

He's not much shorter than Jimmy, but still has to strain upwards a bit regardless. Hands come to hold the side of his face, and Martyn can't stop himself from melting against it. The touch feels like fire on his skin, and he loves the way it burns. Their noses bump, breaths ghost over each other, and his own hands find themselves somewhere on Jimmy, feeling burned for simply making contact with him. One hand grips the fabric of his shirt, and the other is already tangled in his hair; grabbing the back of Jimmy’s head and pulling him closer. He knows the other is a self care guy, so Martyn doesn't know why he's surprised at the softness of Jimmy’s hair. If this were any other universe, any other circumstance, he could easily see himself running his fingers through it on lazy mornings together in bed. 

"You promise?" Jimmy whispers against his lips, voice so pleading that it hurts. Martyn whispers back. "I promise." And closes the gap between them. 

Jimmy’s lips are soft, and feel pleasant against his own. The taller melts into the touch instantly, becoming putty under Martyn's hands. He can't say he fares much better himself, pressing closer until every inch of them that could possibly be touching is , the fabric of his hoodie rubbing against the near skin tight shirt Jimmy wears. The one hand cupping his cheek begins to thumb it as well, and there are so many butterflies wildly fluttering around his body Martyn thinks he's going to burst. The kiss is sweet tasting too, like sugar or a rich honey, like the kind of chocolate that’s so good you always crave for more after your first bite. It’s a sugar rush really, one he wants to consume more of, and Martyn isn’t normally a sweets guy. 

Everything seems to burn even more than before, and they haven't even transferred lives yet. It's definitely a lot more… for lack of a better word, intense than his first kiss with Mumbo, and Martyn makes a mental note to ponder on what that means later; when he's trying to fall  asleep specifically. For now the two are just standing there, in a forest far too close to the rest of their allies, borderline making out. Martyn pulls away for a few gasps of air, hearing Jimmy do the same, and god that just makes him want to dive back in more.  

So he does dive back in, because he's never one to ignore his impulses, and the fact that they still have a life to transfer. He's sure they'll keep going until Jimmy hands it over, and Martyn will be the last person in the world to complain about that. He dives back in, hands still gripping at hair a darker blonde than his, and hopes and prays that no one ever walks by. 

Jimmy apparently doesn't want to kiss him forever, or just wants to get to the running away part, because it's then he starts nipping at Martyn’s bottom lip. Usually, Martyn would let himself go a little wild and take charge of the kiss, and he's pretty sure Jimmy would welcome that. But he's not the one transferring a life here, and it's his turn to get mind numbingly tongued for once. Which also goes on the list of things he's not complaining about. 

He holds back a groan as Jimmy keeps nibbling at him, and feels the other smile at that, and nip harder. All that does is make Martyn want to moan more, which he very frustratingly cannot do because they are in a forest that is very close to people's bases. Their own one in particular. Jimmy doesn’t give up though, warmth traveling all through Martyn as he fights down another loud noise. Instead he parts his lips, and finally, finally feels a tongue slip into his mouth. If Martyn had less self restraint right now, which he's surprised he still had any left at all, he'd be pushing Jimmy down to the ground to ravage him even further; or he'd let the blonde do it himself. 

As Jimmy begins to explore his mouth, tongue exploring everything it can reach and making Martyn absolutely whine , the life begins to transfer. It makes the kiss even more heated, and the blonde never thought he could have one this strong, this intoxicating in his whole damn life. And he should've kissed Jimmy sooner, shouldn't he? If he's gonna be this fucking good at it . Martyn can understand Scott's previous devotion to the guy now, because again, holy fuck he is surprisingly good at kissing someone senseless. 

This life transfer is different from all the other more casual ones he's had. This time it's full of passion, and Martyn shudders at the strength of it. His grasp on Jimmy tightens, knees wobbling as he turns dark green again, and leaves his lover back down on yellow. If they really were going to run away together, it made no real sense for Martyn to take the life back, not really. All it did was make his supposed only ally more vulnerable, and that should've been the first sign something was amiss. He feels bad for lying to Jimmy like that, he really does, for taking advantage of his optimism. He shouldn't even have optimism in a death game really, not after last time, but just makes him more admirable really, to hold onto it. And that thought makes Martyn feel even worse than he already was starting too. Speaking of Jimmy, he's started making sounds of his own, and it's absolute music to Martyn's ears. He wants to kiss him longer, to go even further, see just what kinds of sounds he can get out of the man. But sadly people have to breathe, and his chest is beginning to ache real bad.

They pull away slowly, both blonde's panting heavily. Martyn, still caught up in that ecstasy high, drives back in for a third one after they catch their breaths. Kissing him just because he never wants to stop . Jimmy lets him, let's Martyn nip his lip and slip his own tongue in for just a minute; just long enough to elicit more groans from Jimmy. He's about to go further, having thrown his restraint to the wind, and push this further. About to maybe let his hands wander... downwards specifically, maybe even shove Jimmy down to the ground and do god knows what to him in the middle of this forest. He’s forgotten that there are three people waiting for him to come back, forgotten about Mumbo entirely, and his whole head is focused on Jimmy and pushing this further and consuming every single inch of that man Martyn can reach. 

Yet before he can go any further, Jimmy is pulling away, placing a hand on his chest and bringing the blonde back to his senses. His pretty brown eyes are all dazed and dreamy, and his soft, sweet tasting lips are incredibly swollen. Satisfaction flows through him at that, that he was the one to cause that look on the blonde’s pretty face. Martyn knows he looks the same, able to feel how puffy his lips are and the heat radiating from his own cheeks. He wonders when he started thinking of Jimmy as pretty, and knows it's time to shatter everything they’d just started. 

Jimmy looks at him expectantly, that hopeful looks in his eyes, and he nods his head towards the forest. “Come on.” He says, voice wavering a little. That sound of that voice, much like the earlier whines, is also music to Martyn’s ears, and he hopes he didn’t just fall in love again. He’s thinking he did though, because part of his soul feels like it's shattering. 

“Nah,” He says, voice cheerful and sly smile forced. It doesn’t take much for him to fake the stuff, because he did it plenty of times last game, when he was loyal to one man only and even their closest allies were a threat; when he’d been a hand and people had tried playing both sides and irritated him a bit too much for him to let on. “Absolutely not, mate!”

He sees it dawn on Jimmy’s face in real time. Sees the moment Jimmy realized he was lied to, and that they never were going to run away together, that this was all a complicated ploy to get the life back. He can tell Jimmy thinks the kiss wasn’t real, that that was fake too, even though Martyn had been so close to taking it even further, doing something entirely unholy and unsanitary to do in the middle of the goddamned woods; something that was absolutely cheating on Mumbo. Martyn kinda hoped that Jimmy thought some of it was real, because he’d so just cheated. Grian kissing Mumbo hadn’t been cheating to them, because the latter hadn’t been trying to get a kiss from the avian. Martyn had stood there, let himself be carried away and snog another man. He could kinda understand why Jimmy thought it was all fake (even though they both knew Martyn wouldn’t moan like that unless he meant it,) but he was gonna be a little peeved if Jimmy did think that. 

And Jimmy did think that, because what else was he supposed to think, really? “It didn’t mean anything, did it Martyn?” He asked, all his hope broken. His voice was strangled and came out in a whisper. Martyn tried to push his slight annoyance away, because he wasn’t the type to and fucking cheat for a fake kiss goddammit, and tried to ignore the twisting in his gut as well. 

“Sorry Tim.” His voice broke a little, despite his best efforts, and he hoped Jimmy picked up on that. Martyn played tricks a lot, sure, but this one was really fucked up he thought, even by his stanwards. He’d just toyed with a mans (and his own) feelings, for god's sake.

It dawned on Jimmy when Martyn turned away what all that really meant, and what had probably been in his original plan anyways. The other four had already decided he was exiled; banished; kicked out; wasn't a Southlander anymore. Jimmy was entirely, utterly, completely alone now, no Southlands, no Martyn, and no other alliance was going to take him after a soon to be publicized betrayal attempt. The blonde didn’t stay for long after that, abruptly turning on his heels and beginning the walk back home. It didn’t feel like home with only four of them, without Jimmy , but that was besides the point. 

He didn’t hear any footsteps behind him, and assumed Jimmy had run off somewhere. He hoped it wasn’t to Scott, because oh that man would have his ass for that, if his dedication from last time still held up. But that was a problem for future Martyn to deal with. For now he just walked back a little slowly, and wondered how he was going to tell the others, or if he was even going to mention it at all. He should probably tell Mumbo, but the moment also felt way too personal to even try. 

As soon as he walked through the front gate three expectant gazes were on him, and three voices lapped over each other, asking if he got it back. Martym smiled easily again, mask of complete ease back on. “Yep! Told him we would run away together all romantic like, then snatched it right from ‘em!” If his lips were still a bit red, no one noticed, Grian just ordered him to give the life back to Impulse. And he did, with a casual peck of the cheek that felt far too dirty on Martyn’s lips. 

All he remembered after that was that Jimmy showed up, the little bugger having followed him after all, and let out their cows. He’d broken the jar, which was rude and disrespectful actually, and then been chased away for good. The man was in their base for at least ten minutes, and Martyn didn’t look at him the whole time. That honey sweet voice was making his heart squeeze in pain, and he feared seeing those eyes would break him entirely. 

_______________________________

Scar started selling his lives away, and it's probably the stupidest scam he’s ever done. People don’t want him for an ally, no, no, they just want him so they themselves can say off red life. The first one who came by was Bdubs, and well, Scar never complained about kissing that man. 

It was a good kiss, all things considered, but they’d probably had better before. It was a quick one too, noticeably so. Scar tried to keep it as long as possible, really he had. He’d avoided transferring the life quickly, wanting this to go on a little longer. Bdubs seemed to be getting into it, thankfully, whining into it when Scar slipped his tongue into his mouth. The wizard made his own sounds as well, hands throwing his hood off his head and desperately tugging at white hair. 

He only gave Bdubs the life when the two were pressed to the wall of Scar’s wizard shack, both of them groaning rather loudly into the kiss. The only thing supporting the shorter at that point was the wall he was being kissed into, as he'd completely melted into Scar. 

Once the transfer was done the wizard pulled away, sensing Bdubs didn't want to go any further. He could tell the smaller was satfisted by the way hands stopped tugging at his hair, and how he beelined for the door with a half hearted goodbye. 

Cleo came by later, and at the least the zombie was honest about what she wanted. Scar gave it to her a little happily, because he had no problem with Cleo. Her group had been kind to him before, had always been. He wanted them to live, and to make it out of here alive. Much more than he wanted Bdubs too, and certainly more than he wanted Grian and his little Southlanders.

The former was the next person to stop by, and it was clear that he only wanted Scar for his lives again. He was bored of being red and wanted to be yellow, for whatever reason, like he wouldn’t die and have people hating him again. Grian didn’t say that, but Scar could tell that just from glancing at him. 

“Hi Scar.” He said, with a smile on his face. Scar wanted to wipe it right off. 

“Hi.” He responded stiffly, watching as the other invited himself into the shack. 

"Me and Joel were gonna put you in a death loop until you gave us life." He explained, and the wizard could barely even be horrified by it. "But we heard you were just giving 'em out now, so…." He saw the avian reach for his sword as he spoke, and Scar knew there was no getting out of this, was there?" 

"Well, I'll give you one." Scar smiled. "For a price?" 

"Like what?" Grain asked, sword being put away slowly. 

"A promise not to kill me when you go red again." 

" Deal ." The blonde said, then crossed the room in quick steps until he stood in front of Scar. He let Grian smash their lips together, and went to cup the avian's head in his hands. 

The kiss was messy, rough, and Grian was even indulging himself a little bit. That made Scar a little hopeful, but he knew he shouldn't be hopeful, because this was Grian and this was a death game. That didn’t mean he couldn't enjoy it though. The blonde muffled a moan, a tongue slipping into his mouth slowly, teasingly. Scar smirked at that, making his own noise when small hands started to tug at his hair. They pulled away soon after, lungs screaming for air. 

Grian glared at him as they did, and Scar just smiled, diving back in to properly transfer the life. He did so, intentionally making the kiss enjoyable for both of them, doing everything he knew Grian liked. Despite that, the blonde pulled away once the transfer was done, not letting Scar go back down for a third one, even if both their bodies were screaming for more. He stopped the wizard with a hand on his chest, leaving their faces agonizingly close. 

“You gonna run off after this one too?” He muttered against Grian’s lips. 

The avian responded quickly, and Scar had to appreciate the honesty for once, even if it did hurt. “Yeah.” The blonde confirmed, and began to pull away. Scar had to stop himself from placing one last, chaste kiss to his face. He really, really did. His heart felt like it was exploding, but in a bad way. The heartbroken way. The way that made him want to be red tomorrow just so he could go and stab his old lover’s guts out.

It wasn’t as hard to watch Grian leave, not with that feeling turning violently in his gut. He watched the avian run away with one of his lives for a second time, and remembered an old promise that meant nothing. A promise that had never meant anything at all. 

Joel came by later that day, asking for a kiss on the hand to make him yellow. Scar gave it to him apathetically, missing his usual charm. The encounter was only five minutes long, and all he could thunk about was how Joel was using him to stay allied with Grian instead of returning to their mountain. How Grian had used him. How everyone was using him, the lonely little wizard that lived atop the hill. How Grian had seemingly abandoned him, his new allies, and had replaced their desert with a bloodthirsty manic and an army of dogs. 

♡

He thinks back to earlier in the game later that day, when the life sharing had just been a way to ensure a short alliance, and not all people wanted from him. 

Scar thinks back to Ren, who'd given him a life for an alliance and resources. An alliance that certainly wasn’t around anymore, byt felt meaningful now. That exchange had left like it meant something, really, it had. Ren was a good kisser too, and Scar wouldn't mind having that tongue down his throat again. Life exchange or not. 

He thinks it's his last kiss with Bdubs, the one before the most recent one, that really started it all, had established that people could use him for lives. Bdubs had given him a life to buy an enchanter, and after that everyone had seemed to jump on the next opportunity they saw. Because what did a lonely wizard have to lose?

He licked his lips, feeling how red and puffy they were; from all the action they'd received over the past two days, and wished he'd made more rules around his scams. 

♡

The next day was the last transfer Scar ever did, and the last one that felt meaningful. 

Scar was having….quite a day to say the least. He'd woken up on red once again because he'd drowned, and the usual red life instincts were really kicking in that day, apparently. The wizard wasn't one to relish in those, ah, murderous urges much, but he did let himself indulge once in a while. At one point in the morning he'd grabbed TNT from his hidden chest absent-mindedly, placing it inside his robes; far away from the pocket with his flint and steel this time. He'd been itching to use it for some time now, and might as well do so today. 

Team BEST's Snow Fort seemed like a good place to blow up for some reason, maybe it was just because that was the first base his eyes landed on. Scar had to wonder if an explosion would cause all the snow to melt, even the snow on the opposite side of the base, or if Etho had made it like, heat resistant or something. That didn't sound possible, but it was Etho, a redstone master, and redstone always did things that sounded like they shouldn't be possible. 

The wizard giggled, taunting the little quartet as he placed the explosives around the sides of the building. The other four players tried to stop him, their panicked screams echoing in the air. He heard them breaking the TNT, and didn't really care too much. Scar would be happy at blowing up just a portion of the base really, maybe even do some damage to one of BEST in the process. 

"Scar!" Tango's voice rang clearer than the rest for some reason, the blazeborn  towards him. Two other people, Bdubs and Skizz, were trailing behind him as well. The wizard now stood a little ways away from the fort, having run out of TNT quicker than he expected. 

Tango looked… nervous for some reason, and the feeling seemed to get worse as he approached the brunette. Scar however was curious, raising an eyebrow as the blonde stood directly in front of him, far too close to be anything casual. 

The smaller man grabbed onto the front of Scar's wizard robe suddenly, forcing him to lean downwards. Scar blinked in momentary surprise, but then had a pretty good idea of what was about to happen. Because what else did people want him for nowadays? Sure enough, Tango's lips were hesitantly brushing his a moment later, noses bumping as the wizard waited with baited breath. The blonde got over his hesitation quickly though, seeming determined to stick with whatever idea he'd been talked into, and smashed their lips together not even a full ten seconds after. 

Kissing Tango wasn’t that bad, it was actually kinda nice. The blazeborn was warm, very warm, but not burning hot. Said warmth seemed to travel through the wizard and it fluttered around nicely in his stomach. Tango's lips themselves were pleasantly warm and a bit cracked, but they felt surprisingly lovely against Scar's own. He'd had worse kisses during this whole death game, so this one was pleasantly enjoyable. 

Transferring lives didn’t have to take too long, usually it only needed the quickest of pecks and the thought of handing over some life-force. But it seemed the two got a little….caught up in the moment. Scar had been letting the blonde lead the kiss from the beginning, and didn't protest at all when Tango slipped his tongue into his mouth. He really felt the life flow info him then, the familiar sensation of one of the blazeborn's green lives turning Scar's own red one yellow. 

He held back a muffled groan in his throat, well aware that other people were still close by. Scar's hands went to rest light on Tango's hips, and one of the latter's hands cupped his cheek. The other hand grabbed the back of the wizard’s head, titling it so its owner could explore his mouth more. 

The kiss felt like it lasted for much longer than it probably did. If they were alone, Scar was sure they would've become a little more frenzied, more passionate, kissed a little more hungrily. Maybe a few more places would've been touched by Tango's warm lips as well. For now though, the blonde's tongue explored every inch of Scar's mouth it could reach, unnaturally sharp teeth occasionally nipping at his bottom lip and making the brunette want to melt into the shorter ever more. 

They pulled away after some time, both gasping for air. Tango moved away slowly, nose bumping with Scar's and puffs of his breath landing on the others face. His gaze was a little half lidded, but mostly his eyes were their normal amount of wide as Tango removed his hand from the back of Scar's head. The blazeborn's lips were red, swollen and a little puffed up, and part of Scar wanted to lean back in and ruin them some more. 

There was some…weird tension in the air, a kind the brunette couldn't really describe as the two momentarily studied each other. He saw how Tango's gaze searched his face, and Scar was sure he looked just as, if not even more, ravaged than the other. His eyes were half lidded, dazed, maybe even a little bit dreamy. His own lips felt more swollen than they'd ever been, and Scar had had a lot of really heated lip locking sessions in his time. 

"You're a surprisingly good kisser." Tango muttered too quiet for anyone else to hear, the tips of his pointed ears now colored cherry red. 

"Why thank you!" Scar huffed in response, matching the others volume. "You're not so bad yourself." A signature little smile crept its way onto his face, and the wizard ignored the flushed feeling of lingering on his cheeks. 

Tango shuffled further away, until they stood at least a foot apart. "Wel!" He said, hands being clasped behind his back. "That's that!" 

"Mhmm" Scar hummed, gaze flicking to the other members of BEST behind them. Skizz and Bdubs were sharing a glance between them, and the air around the two was more than a little awkward. Scar held back an amused sound in the back of his throat. "Thank you for your service, good sir!" He continued. "The snow fort remains intact for now!" 

"Right, right.." Tango responded, casting his own look back at his teammates. "See you later, or something!" He said, a little too hurriedly, and turned his back on the wizard. 

"Goodbye!" The wizard called, watching the other three scamper off for a minute. Even from here, he could hear Bdubs lean in and ask exactly what the hell that was all about. Tango's ears turned pink again, and he seemed to be stammering a weak explanation out to his two friends. 

Scar turned away on his own time, a satisfied little smile playing on his lips and the feeling of Skizz's eyes burning into him as he left. He’d have to find a way to thank Tango later, maybe he could even give him a life of his own one day. (Scar might only be yellow for now, but he was already planning to scam his way back to that beautiful dark green again) 

The incident wasn't really brought up again, and Tango only gave Scar brief acknowledgement after that, in the form of quick nods and glances. Scar returned them all with his usual enthusiasm, ignoring the small want to press their lips together again. 

That wasn’t for this time, no no. Maybe in another world, but not this one. 

_______________________________

Martyn really couldn't believe how he'd got here, really. He was giving Ren, amazing, handsome, beautiful, wonderful Ren , a life. Because they were in the Shadow Alliance. And his ally needed a life. 

It felt a little bad, looking at Ren's lips before kissing him. It felt bad because of Mumbo, because of Jimmy. If they were dead he wouldn't feel bad, but they're not, and this is probably cheating again. And he feels bad about that, really he does, it's just…it's Ren. It's just Ren. He couldn't resist that man, even if he tried. 

"You good man?" The man of the hour asks him, clearly reading that something is wrong. Martyn knows it's not showing on his face, and that the dog can just read him that well. 

"I'm good, I'm good." He muttered, leaving in. "I swear." Ren just hummed in response, and met him in the middle. 

Martyn had thought he was starving, but if that was true then Ren was absolutely ravenous. He was biting and nipping on Martyn’s lip almost instantly, which he damn well knew drove him crazy. He groaned in response, letting the kiss advance further and a tongue enter his mouth. 

Kissing Ren was great, it really was. If you gave Martyn the option, he'd kiss this man until he died. But his head wouldn't let him forget the last kiss he'd shared, the last life he'd transferred like this, and it made his heart ache a little. Well it was more than a little, it was a lot actually. Because he had to be the idiot in love with three people at once, didn’t he? 

He gave Ren the life and pulled away. It left his old partner confused, because he wanted more, thought they were going to keep going like they used to. Martyn said he'd wanted it. And he had wanted it, he'd wanted it desperately so. Every time he'd seen Ren in this game he'd wanted to kiss him until they both couldn't breathe, he'd remembered those stolen moments at Dogwarts and longed for more. 

But kissing Ren like that reminded him of Jimmy, of giving him a life then breaking his heart. He still couldn't look at those eyes, hadn’t even tried to visit his new place of living, because it hurt. It made Martyn’s heart shatter into a million pieces. He'd broken that man, played with his emotions, and now he lived in a fucking shack with no friends. 

He was reminded of Mumbo, who he loved so dearly but couldn't stay loyal to. And then he felt bad, and like a scumbag. Even though if he explained it he was sure Mumbo would understand. He'd be hurt but he'd understand, because he was Mumbo and he was amazing and Martyn knew his loved ones better than he knew himself. And now both he and Jimmy were red and Martyn couldn't talk to them, because red lives weren't supposed to have friends. 

"Sorry." He mumbled, feeling Ren's worried gaze on his back. "I just-" 

"Got some weird romance stuff goin’ on?" Ren asked, and of course he would guess that. Because he and Mumbo were never shy about being married, were they? He couldn't know about Jimmy though, because no one but Jimmy himself  knew about it, and he still thought it was all fucking fake.  

"Yeah. Yeah. That's it. Sorry, again." He muttered. Ren muttered something comforting, but Martyn didn’t hear it, not really. He felt a hand be placed on his shoulder, and they stood like that until someone started coming down the ladder. 

_______________________________

Bdubs asked Tango to give him a life one day, because he was low. They were allies now, their two groups, had been for most of the game now. Things had been….rocky to say the least, but Tango jumped on the opportunity to give Bdubs another life, to kiss him again. He'd never gotten such passion for the moss man or his masked partner again, only soft touches and forehead pecks. He'd gotten all that from Skizz, really, who got the same as him from the other two. 

So saying he was excited for another exchange like that was a bit of an understatement, and Bdubs could tell, because he'd seen the way Tango's tail flicked and then dragged them off to somewhere more private. 

Now they stood close together, Bdubs’s back pressed up against a wall. The blazeborn had been slowly inching forward, but had stopped, wanting the other to feel comfortable. He was kinda trapping the guy against a wall right now. 

Bdubs was apparently fine, as he moved forward once he saw Tango's hesitation. "Kinda excited to kiss you again." He muttered, starting to slowly close the distance between them even further. He seemed a little sheepish about the admission, which made Tango's tail curl up in joy. 

"Yeah?" Tango giggled, leaning forward teasingly. "Was I that good last time?" 

" Yes " The moss man's voice was even lower, even quieter now, and a shiver went through Tango at the word. 

"You're not so vas yourself~" He whispered, leaning a little closer thab the first time. Bdubs did the same, until they were only an inch apart. The blonde wasn't sure who exactly closed the gap, or if they'd done so simultaneously, but what he did know that Bdubs’s cool lips were against his mouth; and he was loving every second of it. 

A hand grabbed the collar of his shirt, dragging them both backwards. Bdubs's back hit the wall with a low thud , and the man whined into the kiss. One of his hands went to tug at Tango's hair, causing the blonde to make his own noises and slip his tongue into the other's mouth; doing so almost desperately. He kissed his ally into the wall, doing so out of pure desire and nothing else. Hands tugged at hair, and they both were probably loud enough for the rest of their team to hear. 

They kept kissing even after the life transferred, enjoying the way the other tasted far too much to stop. Tango wouldn't even realize they'd completed the transfer until they pulled away for the final time, when he saw the changed color of Bdubs's beautiful eyes. The other would lean in again, and Tango would let himself be kissed stupid again, and maybe a few more times after that. 

He'd be regretting this a few days later, when Bdubs killed him in cold blood. If he’d known that then, maybe Tango would've kept his lives to himself for once. He didn’t regret this kissing, but it did still hurt, just a little bit. 

_______________________________

Etho sighed, looking at the most recent messages on his communicator. Two in particular stood out from the rest, and was the reason he was sighing in the first place. He ran a hand through his hair, eyes scanning over them for what felt like the millionth time that day. 

LDShadowlady was killed by BdoubleO100

BdoubleO100 was shot by Grian

That wasn’t supposed to be the plan. That last one wasn't a part of the deal. Etho had told Bdubs if he could kill a red, he'd give him a life. Because Etho had a few lives before he too turned red, and despite all their differences he still wanted Bdubs around. He wanted him to live . But so many people were on red and so much had happened between everyone, between BEST, between them , that it felt wrong to just hand one over. So he'd gone and made that stupid deal instead. 

He'd told Bdubs to meet him at the snow fort as soon as he completed his task. And he had completed it. He'd killed Lizzie, taken a red name out of the game for good. But Grian had got to him first. 

It had all happened a few hours ago, but Etho’s brain wouldn't let him stop thinking about it. It wouldn't let him ignore the pain. He'd been really looking forward to transferring that life too, to maybe giving the man one last kiss, to keeping him around. But Etho didn't get that in the end, and it made his heart ache and looking at the message over and over like he'd been doing just made him feel worse . So he huffed, back resting against the cold snow wall and soil sand under his feet, and threw the communicator across the room for the fifth and hopefully final time. 

He slid down until his bottom hit the floor, resting his arms on his knees and burying his head in them. He couldn't sit there for hours, moping and useless. He had to live, to survive, to win. He had to do it for Bdubs, because he knew Bdubs would want him to make it as far as possible. 

But the snow fort did feel empty now, and he wanted to grieve, to focus on that emptiness for just a little bit longer. So he'd live tomorrow, survive tomorrow, maybe win tomorrow. All for his fallen friend, all for him. All for the man who was probably more than just his friend, and Etho had just been too scared to say it.

He'd live tomorrow,  for team BEST, for Bdubs.

#ron.fic #ron.writing #last life #trafficblr #goodtimeswithscar #ethoslab #tangotek #grian #pearlecentmoon #zombiecleo #scott smajor #trafficshipping #ldshadowlady #bdoubleo100 #joel smallishbeans #inthelittlewood #jimmy solidarity #rendog

[yuukei-yikes]

please just rewrite kagepro i'm BEGGING i love your head cannons !!! love you jin but vinnie on top. also haruka is so AAAAAAA and it's so interesting how you talk ab his weird vibes w the dan !! it's like "whoops konoha's gone but have this silly guy instead" and said silly guy is extremely guilty about htis. sorry this is all over the place but yeah. the silly guy filter

i went a lil crazy on this reply. partly an analysis, partly str headcanons. in general about haruka and how he feels about his livelihood 💥💥💥

haruka's survival guilt misadventures💗💗💗

since he saw everything konoha saw it's like he became one-sided friends with everyone because he knew everyone konoha knew and of course cared for them just as much but none of them know him. he knows first hand how much everyone loved konoha because he saw it!!!

i think generally post str haruka&takane deal with a lot of existential crisis LMAO takane because she says it felt like the whole time she was ene could've been a dream and etcetc sorry i wont sidetrack to takane like i keep doing. erm. but her too okay... anyways haruka

He Should've Died Years Ago and didn't and like... in over the dimension he mentions how he used to believe in the prospect of heaven but then as time went on and his condition worsened and his time to go approached, he became more depressed and his thoughts became SUPER negative. he was like THERE IS NO HEAVEN EVERYONE IS JUST LYING TO MAKE U FEEL BETTER BUT AFTER DEATH THERE IS ONLY DARKNESS. and then he does die and neither of these things happen, he doesnt go to heaven and he doesnt stop existing. if we're staying on theme with the heaven thing he mentions, instead he essentially ends up going to hell. he literally gets stuck in Personified Hell watching the konoha cringe comp like. come on.

i hc everyone in the daze can sort of move freely and meet each other EXCEPT haruka precisely bc he still has a link to his body/the outside world. i think it's SO interesting that the daze is truly another dimension and swallows people as they are BUT HARUKA specifically it's his consciousness/spirit/whatever. we dont talk about this enough. the concept of spirits and shit being canon in kagepro. like HE IS THE ONLY ONE who is just a mind with no actual physical body?? so bc of the link to the outside he still has bc of it, he can't move freely inside the daze and can't do anything other than sit there and just Watch what konoha does, hibihiyo timeloop and all. so like. LITERALLY FUCKING HELL. he's alone not only for the 2 years but also for however long konoha was in hibihiyos loop. i think he can only move around in the eighth novel because he has finally lost the link to his body

and haruka speaks of how lonely his life is and by the way he speaks i think he had sort of repressed the way he felt about his illness. cuz he grew up lonely, not only already sick but seeing first hand the way his illness is killing/kills someone else, his mother. cuz before she died he had to see her suffer through it, right.. there is no mention of how she was as a person but i imagine she was either really depressed haruka ended up sick too OR... She was like his dad and talked about it a little insensibly. his father being really cold and straight to the point with "you will also die like her, give or take in 6 years" when he is TEN!!!HE WAS SO SMALL!!!! at the beginning of his novel haruka is like. yeah i have like a year left to live. but oh whatever. everyone dies I'll just hit the sack a little before ideal that's fine.

i could go on for longer abt haruka's parents and different hcs about the kind of people they are but teehee. i won't sidetrack.

haruka grows up conditioned to think that way and represses his feeling of sadness because that's what he was taught to do by his parents and it essentially became his coping mechanism. takane says it herself at one point abt how haruka has a "yeah whatever" attitude. like word for word

it's only by the next summer when that year actually goes by and he is DYING that he starts despairing and becoming super negative about it and ends up begging for his life because he doesnt wanna die.

that defense mechanism that has fallen apart since then because of his despair when dying sort of built itself back up when haruka enters the daze. once inside the daze doesn't haruka always seem so offbeat and exactly like "yeah whatever"?? because what else is he supposed to do lmao. there is nothing to hope for. there is nothing here. there is no one or nothing to smile at or for. there's just this thing piloting his body outside doing shit he'd like to do and meeting people he'd like to meet. in fact he even seems bitter

that's why str haruka is generally more serious? ofc he's still happy and all cheerful like always but in the canon content str haruka feels like. he really feels grown up, compared to others. same goes for characters like ayano&takane, mostly bc we see them again after a timeskip but still. with haruka especially i think!! thats also why i think jin chose him specifically to express this weird growing up feeling.

so. erm. now he's back and of course he's happy and excited but all these feelings HAVE a lasting impact. they dont just disappear u know. he thought he'd die, then he did. and now he's alive?? and on top of it an adult?? and has to figure out what the hell to do?? being back from the dead after is already a complicated situation by itself. and there's all these complicated feelings with all these people he loves but they dont even know him and he's very happy everyone seems to be willing to get to know him but he can sense how sad they are about konoha, because he Saw the friendship they established with it.

and haruka's like... i am the only person here who ended up bizarrely benefiting from everything that happened. because for everyone else, if for example clearing eyes wasnt evil, they kind of would've made it through. mekatrio wouldve suffered their sad backstories, them+ayano&kenjirou would've suffered ayaka's loss anyway yeah, but further than that it wouldn't have gone downhill. takane and ayano wouldnt have had to die, shintaro wouldnt have become a shut in, kano wouldve never hidden anything from his siblings, hibiya and hiyori wouldn't meet that fate in the city. and haruka would die at 17 years old, period!!!

he is so guilty for being alive when the very thing that helped him survive put everyone else through so much pain. he is so guilty for being thankful for it. ofc its NOT LIKE THAT, OF COURSE HE SHOULDNT BE GUILTY, but i think that's how haruka sort of receives this sudden survival.

not only that but... someone else died for him to be here too. haruka isn't only guilty for that bizarre gratitude but also... konoha!!!

how much does he deserve this when u put konoha in question too?? people who loved haruka, like takane and shintaro, have already mourned him. while konoha is being mourned by like 7 more people. people that again, HARUKA ALSO LOVES BUT THEY DON'T REALLY KNOW HIM!! technically thats not fair then. so maybe konoha deserves it more!?!?! of course haruka is human and konoha isn't, and it's HIS body, but it's because of konoha his body is functioning at all now. so is he robbing it of its life?? but didnt it also rob haruka the body in the first place, by tossing him out and leaving him behind?? this is all the shit i think haruka is conflicted over lmao. who deserved it more or at all... but does it even matter bc konoha IS here and its helping haruka stay alive by playing its awakening eyes role.

but also by feeling guilty over the life he's so happy to have back isn't he undervaluing everyone's willingness to get to know him and honor konoha?? undervaluing takane&shintaro's excitement to reunite with him?? undervaluing even his own happiness at having another chance at life?? well. he has to navigate through it. and he paints pictures at the same time because groceries need to be bought and bills needs to be paid, and aw man, MORE dishes?? he JUST washed those. and after that he should remember to clean the bathroom, its been a while. and do the laundry the dirty clothes pile is getting ridiculous. AND REPEAT!!!!!! because ur a grown up :3

but... he does love painting these pics... and he does love all the snacks he buys after doing groceries!!! and clean clothes are so nice especially when theyre warm from the sun!!! rent is worrying but he's got a roommate who helps him pay it!!! he's always loved his roommate too and has wanted to see her again for so long and now she's there right next to him when he wakes up everyday!!!!!!! and if it were that they can't pay rent they've got so many friends willing to help out!!!!! and he also loves all these friends!!!!! his life...... IS GOOD!!! LIFE... IS GOOD....!!!!!!!!!

he loves life he loves being alive. even if there are so many complicated feelings haruka is so happy he is alive. and wherever it is konoha is happy too. embrace the world with childlike wonder and joy, OKAY?? PEACE AND LOVE ON PLANET EARTH.

#ask tag #kagenalysis #haruka: u go through the worst breakdown of ur life then go grocery shopping in the next hour #haruka kokonose

[chrisevansleftpeck]

Blueberry Muffins - Spencer Reid x Baker!Reader

Word Count: 870

A/N: Haven’t updated Blueberry Muffins since April....BACK ON IT I SWEAR LMAO ENJOY (the shortest chapter yet im so sorry omg)

Content Warnings: None :)

CHAPTER 6

Three months and 2 weeks in. Sure you’d only been actually “dating” for 2 months, but you’d known him for longer. You kept track of time and often wondered if Spencer did the same. Of course he did. However, you had a lingering question: were you guys like a couple? He didn’t call you his girlfriend or partner or anything and when you spoke to Gen, you only ever referred to him as Spencer. He was more than just Spencer to you though. He was…well, like your boyfriend. 

January still carried remnants of the cool and crisp winter air. You felt the breeze sweep, through the dark night, and into the bakery as you wiped down tables. Gen sat criss-cross in a chair, scrolling through her phone. Again- not much of a hard worker. 

Working at a bakery or store of any kind, you knew what the feeling of those last ten minutes before closing was like. It was your time to pop in some earbuds and tie everything together so you could go home. However, there was always the not impossible fear that someone could walk through the door at the last minute. They were always stuck in traffic or in need of a pick me up. Simply wishing that nobody walked through that door was a feeling you knew all too well.

Except for when it was Spencer. You couldn’t wait to see him at the end of the day. His presence put a smile on your face that tugged at you and wouldn’t let you relax your mouth even if you tried. And that’s just what happened this night. You heard the dreaded jingle, but when you turned around, you were met with Spencer. He smiled sweetly, still wearing his work clothes (which happens to look very similar to his normal clothes, but there was a slightly more formal element to it.) Spencer stood in front of you in a white button-down with a blue tie and his black blazer pants.

Gen’s footsteps pitter-pattered, disappearing into the kitchen, as you ran up to hug Spencer. He wrapped his arms around your waist, squeezing a little. When you pulled out of the hug, you let your arms rest around his neck, bunching up his collar a bit, while his hands rested on your waist. You felt his fingers twiddle and fidget with each other while around your waist.

“What’s up?” You asked him. You felt tingly being this close to him. His face was red with nerves and feelings and excitement.

“Um, well, I like just got off of work and my friends are outside. From work. You know like, um, JJ, Rossi, Hotch, Emily, Penelope, and Morgan?” You tried to keep your face from dropping but this was a frightening realization. He wanted you to meet his friends. Some of the people he loved the most.

“Um,” You dropped your arms by your side, “That’s- well- do they want to come in?” You peeked your head through the window to quickly face Spencer again. Your eyes had been met with a slim blonde girls’. Must’ve been JJ.

“Well, um, that was the idea. I’m just now realizing how um rude it must be to spring this on you.” Spencer rubbed his neck nervously. 

You sighed quietly, you weren’t mad, not at all, just very very nervous. Spencer didn’t openly admit to loving many people besides his mom. You’d heard him mention his admiration and love for his friends several times, though. (Even if he wouldn’t say it to their faces.) “It’s fine, really. Um, I’m just nervous. You love them so much and-”

“They’ll like you, Y/N. I promise. Just don’t give Penelope your full name. She likes to research the team’s significant others.” Spencer laughed, running his hand through his hair briefly. 

You internally paused, your heart dropping. Spencer didn’t seem to notice what he’d just said, kissing you on the cheek then exiting to bring his friends in. You flicked on all the lights as they walked in, filing in one by one. 

A tall, muscular man walked in first, Morgan, you thought. He was the epitome of a fine specimen to most women you were sure, but you liked them nerdy and sweet, like Spence.

 Next was a girl with blonde hair streaked with pink stripes. Her style was quite unique and those details alone were enough for you to know that it must’ve been Penelope.

The rest of them followed after Penelope, but Hotch stuck out to you in particular. He wasn’t like the first thing you’d imagine him to be. Spencer described him as tall, black hair, very serious. He said it was extremely rare to see a genuine smile come across his face. Yet, there he was, striding in his work suit with a nice smile, not teethy though. 

Hotch held out his hand to you, “Nice to meet you.”

Trying not to show your panic, you held out your hand as well, shaking his. “You must be the boss.” You joked. 

Then there it was, Hotch showed some teeth. You looked over to Spencer, smiled big and eyes genuinely happy. You could see him like this forever.

#Spencerreid #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #Criminal Minds #criminalminds #criminal minds fanfic #aaronhotchner #david rossi #bau #bauteam #bau team #Penelope Garcia #emily prentiss #derek morgan #fanfiction #fanfic #back from hiatus #fluff #nervous

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Plastic Hearts

Chapter Three: Prisoner

pairing: dieter bravo x actress!oc (Violet Apollo)

chapter rating: M (talks of dieter’s shitty parents, insecurity, these two pining for each other but being scared little shits, sexual desire, weed use, brief mention of hollywood being filled with predators, dieter’s awful parents, cocaine use (pls think before you use cocaine in 2022, it’s just fucking fentanyl and not worth it), me writing Matt Smith into this for a second bc i couldn’t resist, asshole!dieter returns, voyeurism?? a little??, oral sex male receiving, fuck these two are a mess)

word count: 5.5k

authors note: listen i had to write a fucking SNL monologue for Dieter and it was hard and it’s not very good and shout out to all the writers at SNL having to do that every week lmao

series masterlist | series playlist

“You seem to really like this one. Been staring at it for ten minutes now,” Dieter leaned to the side, whispering to Violet as they stood in the MoMA, staring at Monet’s Water Lilies. “I always thought shit like this is too pretty. I like my art like I like my women—“

“Abstract?” She turned to give him a smirk.

“Well, I was gonna say without meaning and overpriced, but sure—abstract.” She rolled her eyes and chuckled, nudging his shoulder with hers.

“I love this painting,” she mused in a powder soft voice, Dieter’s eyes softening as he stared at her profile like she was the real work of art. “Everything about it. It is too pretty, you know? But some shit just is. And you can see the brushstrokes in it—it’s messy, it’s imperfect, and yet it’s so…fucking pretty, you know? So soothing and romantic and…nothing that you’d ever think would come out of a bunch of brushstrokes on a canvas. It’s pretty and it’s messy and it’s just…all the things.”

“I could listen to you talk about art for a lifetime, Miss Apollo,” he confessed quietly, just for her to hear. Sometimes he wanted something just for the two of them to have. A whisper, a look—a moment of authenticity.

The couple was constantly surrounded these days, bodyguards and assistants and handlers and fans—eyes always locked on them as though they were waiting for something to happen, missing the only thing really happening—a budding friendship.

Violet met his eyes and stared at him with the kind of awe that would make any man crumble.

“Take me to one you like,” she insisted, her eyes turning to meet his. Dieter smiled to himself and nodded, slipping his hand into hers more naturally now that he actually wanted to. Violet held onto his bicep with her free hand, the “couple” no longer sure what was for show and what was sincere anymore.

“You know, I grew up in New York most of the time as I kid,” Dieter began as the couple and their entourage walked through the museum, keeping his voice low so that only she would be able to listen.

“Yeah?” She turned her head a bit to watch him nod, his index finger and thumb rubbing his the hair on his chin.

“Yeah, my parents wanted me as far away as fucking possible.” Violet frowned at him as he glanced over at her, a small chuckle leaving the typically stoic man. “To be fair to them, I was a little shit from day one.”

“You were a child, D. Little shit or not, you deserved to have your parents around.” She spoke it as though it was simply a fact, but that little sentence had been the hardest one to accept, even through years of therapy. He didn’t feel like he deserved it—acceptance, their presence, love. “I know your mom is Marianne Ward, who’s your dad?”

Dieter was impressed by her knowledge on his mother’s career. She mostly spent her career doing artsy indie flicks rather than the shit most people saw. Aside from her Oscar nomination, she hadn’t really been much of a starlet.

“Ed Bravo—he’s a producer—“

“Yeah, didn’t he also try his hand at directing? What was the film called—Humoring Colossus?” Dieter stopped abruptly, causing the group around them to also halt. He shook his head and chuckled at her, his eyes wide with awe and intrigue.

“You’ve seen that shit?” He asked with disbelief, Violet chuckling at his theatrics as she nodded. “You’ve got to be like one of only ten fucking people to have even heard of that film. That’s impressive.”

“Don’t think too highly of me, I mainly watch obscure films like that to sound cooler than I actually am,” she assured with a smile, waving him back towards her.

Dieter grabbed her hand again, Violet resuming her hold on his arm as they walked up to a canvas hanging on the wall, smudged with black streaks of ink—chaotic and yet somehow orderly. Violet leaned closer to read the card beside it: Julie Mehretu, Invisible Sun (algorithm 5, second letter form), 2014, ink and acrylic on canvas.

“Now this…speaks my language.” Dieter studied the painting with puckered lips, his fingers rubbing his chin as he focused on it.

Violet meant to study it with him, she really did, but the current view of his deep contemplation was more awe-inducing than any work in the building could ever dream to be. Here he was in all his natural glory, hair tousled into messy waves and curls like he just got out of bed an hour ago, the greying patches on his beard almost forming two little hearts (ironic, she thought, for a man so averse to romance).

“I met the artist once at a gallery opening, and I tried to talk her into letting me buy it. Offered way too fucking much for it, but she said she preferred it here.”

Dieter turned his eyes, catching Violet in her gaze. He would’ve smiled at the sight of her studying him so closely if it hadn’t made him sick to his stomach with nerves.

Truthfully, he didn’t know if he wanted her swooning for him—if that’s what was beginning to happen. Not enough had changed about him for him to be welcoming anyone into his life like this. He was still a short tempered, emotionally unavailable man with unresolved mommy and daddy issues.

Though he’d been behaving on their week-long stay in New York—keeping to his side of the two-bedroom hotel suite, only smoking weed, and finding the strength to remain celibate—it was all bound to come to an end at some point. He had itches he needed to scratch, and though she’d been able to see the best he had to offer this week, he wasn’t sure she’d be so quick to stare at him with awe if she saw the other shit—the side that most everyone else got to see besides her, hence why they all hated him.

Dieter cleared his throat, snapping Violet out of her daydream, her eyes batting away her admiration as she turned to focus on the painting. “It certainly screams you, Dieter.”

“How so?” He asked, his head tilted.

“It’s chaotic, but clearly brilliant. It’s black and white but it’s also grey, you know? It’s…a whole combination of things. I don’t know why, it’s just you.” Dieter felt both thrilled by her observation and weighed down by it.

If she understood him so well, could she already see the storm on the horizon? Did she even care? Why didn’t that help soothe his anxiety? Why didn’t that cure him of the itch in his palms?

“I’m feeling kind of tired,” she looked back at him, something clearly weighing on her mind, though he knew her well enough to know that she was much too sober to speak it. “I think a nap sounds nice before we have to go to the show.”

“Okay,” he nodded and turned around to find his assistant, Raf. “Can you call Violet a car to go back to the hotel?”

“Sure thing,” the young man nodded and walked away to call the car.

“Thought maybe you would join me.” Violet’s hopeless voice pulled at Dieter’s heartstrings. Though he hadn’t realized she’d been offering for him to join, even if he wanted to cross that line, he couldn’t. He was hosting SNL that night and had dress rehearsals all afternoon.

“Wish I could,” he pinched her chin and gave her an apologetic smile, neither of them paying attention to the fan that was approaching their entourage.

“I’m so sorry, but I’m such a big fan of both of them. Could I just say hi?” Dieter turned his head around to take in a teenage girl desperately pleading with his head of security.

“It’s okay,” Violet interjected, waving the girl over. “Oh, I love your skirt. Where’d you get it from?”

“I made it, actually,” the girl blushed and giggled nervously, eyes hardly meeting either of the actors’.

“What’s your name?” Dieter asked, his casually cool persona back on.

“Violet, actually.” She chuckled and looked to Dieter’s Violet. “I’m such a big fan of yours—both of you. I watched you on broadway last year.”

“Oh, really?” Dieter gave her a smile. “Thought nobody came to that show.”

“Well, I loved it. And Violet, you’re amazing in literally everything you’re in. I’m such a big fan of yours. I actually—“ She held up her phone, showing them her lockscreen. It was a fan edit of Violet in her MCU debut role—the one that landed her her current job.

“Oh, wow,” Violet blushed and gave the girl a bashful smile. “You’re so sweet. Can I give you a hug, Violet?”

“Sure,” the girl willingly accepted the hug from her hero, Dieter watching the entire scene unfold before his eyes.

A truly good person, that Violet Apollo. Too good for the industry she worked in. Way too fucking good for him.

After taking a picture with the fan, Dieter walked Violet out of the museum, cameras waiting for them when they stepped out into the brisk autumn breeze of New York City. Dieter opened up her door into the SUV, tempted to give her a kiss on the cheek for the cameras, but the more he began to actually feel for her, the less he wanted to do such intimate things in front of the mob of paparazzi stalking them.

“I’ll see you before the show?” He asked, Violet nodding her head and reaching to pinch his chin. Dieter grabbed her hand and kissed the pad of her thumb, winking at her before closing her door, his security and assistant following him over to his own SUV parked right behind hers waiting to take him over to Rockefeller Center.

•••

The entire car ride from the MoMA to their hotel on the Upper East Side, Violet couldn’t stop thinking about Dieter. The way his dark eyes seemed to turn golden when he looked at her and black when he looked at anybody else. The way his beard felt against her fingertips when she’d pinch his chin. His earthy cologne that may have just been his natural scent—she couldn’t yet tell. He’d somehow managed to intoxicate her with his mere existence, and it was beginning to become an addiction she didn’t know she’d be able to shake once this was all over.

She could see it in his eyes—his hesitancy to feel something for her. She knew there was more between them than friendship or obligation, but just how much? Neither of them allowed themselves to speak it out loud.

Violet didn’t want to think anymore, didn’t want to wonder whether or not he was thinking of her, but before she could spark up a joint and hop in the bath, her phone was buzzing. She sighed and set the joint down, grabbing her phone and sliding the green arrow to accept the FaceTime call from her assistant now back in LA.

“Hey, Luce,” Violet spoke through an exhale, only half paying attention to the blonde on her screen.

“Hey, just wanted to call and let you know I booked your trip to London at the end of the month for the press junket. I haven’t heard back from Dieter’s team as to whether or not he’ll be joining you.”

“Maybe it’s best if he doesn’t, you know? Give us some time to miss each other and all that.” Violet bit at her once-perfectly manicured nails while her assistant narrowed her eyes at her through the screen.

“What’s happened? Besides the kiss that I walked in on?”

“Just…I don’t know. I feel like I’m doing that thing that I always do again where I meet an injured little bird of a man and take it upon myself to nurse him back to health only for him to fuckin’ fly off the minute he’s all better,” Violet hid her face in her hands, groaning dramatically. “I just need a week away from him, so let’s keep London a solo trip. Okay?”

“Okay, yeah. You’re the boss,” she typed in the demand into her phone before continuing. “By the way, it’s not a flaw to see the good in people. Not that I entirely approve of Dieter—I don’t really know the guy—but from the way he looks at you in all these pictures, he’s either the greatest actor of all time or he’s just plain into you.”

“Shh,” Violet held her finger up to her lips. “I’m going to hang up now so I can smoke weed and relax before I have to be my crush’s fake girlfriend again.”

“Godspeed, my friend.”

As Violet smoked her joint in the bathtub, the hot water up to her neck, the “smells like happy” bathtub failing to deliver its advertised effects, she thought about her past romances.

She always did tend to take a broken man and invest all her love into him, or rather the idea of him that she’d invented in her head. In truth, every man she ever thought she loved was simply a reflection of things she loved about herself, or things that she wanted her partner to love about her.

Her previous lovers were all rather boring, selfish takers who allowed her to suffocate them with love and adoration until their ego had inflated to the point of no return, leaving her to watch them as they floated off to the next best thing—the next girl too good for them that could fix the parts she couldn’t.

Deep down she knew Dieter wasn’t the same as all the men before. For starters, he actually seemed to value her—her feelings, her opinions, her way of doing shit. She knew he could be selfish, harsh, distant, cold, but he could also be generous, soft, interested, and so goddamn warm when she caught him in the right mood.

Dieter was bad for her and he was good, too—black and white and grey—which made her all the more confused about what to do.

Gathering herself a bit, she quickly got ready, doing her own hair and makeup tonight because she couldn’t bear the thought of interacting with anybody else right now.

She opted for a simple glam, her hair in cascading waves down her shoulders and back. She wore one of Dieter’s vintage t-shirts—a suggestion from Dieter himself—a distressed pair of jeans, and an oversized black leather jacket on top. Her outfit was casual but she didn’t want anything over the top—tonight was all about Dieter.

Violet beamed at the paparazzi waiting in front of 30 Rock, giving them her best smile and a friendly wave. Funny how they’d never know she was paralyzed with insecurity and sadness all the while.

“Hey,” Violet found Dieter in his dressing room, surprisingly all alone. “Thought I’d have to throw some elbows to get to you.”

“No, I, uh,” he gestured back at the hall. “I told everyone I wanted to be alone.”

“Oh—should I?” She stepped towards the door but Dieter shook his head and stood up, reaching out for her hand.

“No, stay.” Violet smiled, nodding and following him over to the sofa.

“You feeling okay?” She asked, afraid to bask in uncomfortable silence for too long. Dieter shifted in his seat, glancing at her with that boyish grin she’d become so accustomed to but at one point couldn’t have even imagined him wearing.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just…nervous, I guess.” He reached over, lightly punching her knee. “But you being here makes it better. And sorta worse. I can’t explain it.”

“I know what you mean,” she chuckled, tilting her head at him with a soft smile, her eyes unabashed in their look of admiration. “You have nothing to be nervous about, Dieter. You’re going to be great.”

“You know, out of all the people in this bullshit industry for me to be under contract to spend time with, I’m glad it’s you,” Dieter confessed barely above a whisper, reaching up to cradle her cheek. “I just wish I was good enough for more. Maybe then I wouldn’t be so scared to act on shit.”

“What? Dieter—“

“Alright, Mr. Bravo. We’re ready for you at stage entrance.” The producer opened the door and gave them both a hurried look. Dieter gave Violet a longing look before standing up and walking out, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

What the literal fuck? Good enough for more? Act on shit? Act on what? Violet’s head spun at the thought of Dieter Bravo harboring feelings for her, and the thought of him holding back on them because he was insecure made her so dizzy she thought she could throw up. If only she could gather her wits enough to tell him that she was just as scared about the way she felt for him. That she was just as insecure about what she brought to the table.

•••

Dieter waited behind the iconic doors on the SNL set, ready to give his opening monologue. He’d written it with the help of a couple writers at the show, insisting that he wasn’t going to try to reinvent himself tonight, but simply show the viewers a newer side of him—a bit less brooding and pained than the image he’d created over his career.

Faster than he could catch his breath, the doors were being opened and he was stepping through them, walking down the stairs to the iconic jazz and applause from the crowd. He scanned the rafters, hoping to see one familiar face but shocked when he saw two more—his mother and father.

Great.

Plastering his smile even wider in hopes of hiding his actual oh my fucking god my parents are here panic.

“Thank you. Thank you.” Dieter bowed to the audience as the applause died down, his heart clambering inside his chest. “It’s an honor to be here tonight, I’m Dieter Bravo. You may know me as that one guy from that one thing that you fell asleep in the middle of but somehow won an Oscar for.” The crowd laughed. “You know, I’ve been sort of awestruck being here hosting. So many of my childhood heroes have walked these halls and stood where I’m standing now—turns out they’re all more like villains and are thankfully canceled now…which is great business for me. SNL would’ve never been desperate enough to have me on if pickings weren’t so slim around Hollywood these days.” The crowd response was a mixture laughter and ooo’s, Dieters mouth curling up into a half-smirk. He insisted that joke be kept in and had to kiss ass to get it approved but oh, the payoff. “Listen, I know I’m not known for my comedy. I’m a pretty serious guy, I like to take serious roles, but, ya know, since I’m turning forty in a couple months, I’m hoping to turn a new leaf.” The audience applauded him, Dieter nodding and trying to calm his smile before continuing. “Yeah, I used to only smoke sativa, but lately I’ve really been into indica.” Another round of scripted laughter erupted from the crowd. “No, but seriously. I’m slowly getting myself together. I’ve given up the fast life—mostly, got a new role coming up that doesn’t involve any Cliff Beasts or terrible accents, hell, I’ve even given up the all the young, beautiful supermodels in exchange for a beautiful, brilliant actress that’s here tonight up in the rafters hoping that I don’t completely embarrass her. Hi, darling.” Dieter blew her a kiss and waved his hand at her—that wasn’t scripted. “Anyways, we’ve got a great show for you all tonight. Stick around and we’ll be right back.”

The show went well, or at least he thought it did—everything was happening so fast it was hard to tell. After the end credits rolled and he’d given a fake hug to every fucking cast member, he walked off the stage, desperate to try and find Violet before his parents could inflict too much emotional abuse onto her.

Dieter found her in the green room, surrounded by a fucking mob of cast members, writers, producers, fucking interns—all of them making it near impossible for him to reach her. She was laughing and carrying on with all of them, playing her favorite role of the always-smiling American sweetheart, but he could hear the difference in her voice.

Violet was always so poised when she laughed in front of an audience, but when she was alone with Dieter, when he truly made her laugh, she was all snorts and cackles and just plain fucking real. It almost felt sacrilegious to hear his favorite sound distorted by inauthenticity like this.

“There you are,” his mother’s voice sounded from behind him and he closed his eyes, wishing her away. When he felt his father’s firm grip on his shoulder, he sighed and turned around, forcing a smile on his face.

“Ed, Marianne.” Dieter gave them a polite nod, both of them eyeing him up in that judgmental way that made him feel like a little boy again, desperate to make them proud.

“You did well out there tonight, son.” Dieter furrowed his brows at his father’s praise, remaining frozen when he was pulled in for a hug.

“Are you sick or something? Why are you hugging me?” Dieter’s mother swatted his bicep at the question, his father letting go of him.

“Nobody’s sick. We’re just proud of you. God, is it always going to be so volatile with you, Dieter? Sorry that we weren’t there as much as you may have wanted us to be, but we’re here now. Can’t we let bygones be bygones?” His mother pleaded, though her dismissal of his childhood neglect and trauma did little to win him to her side.

“Weren’t there as much as I may have wanted? You sent me off to live with a nanny across the country. That wasn’t not being there, that was abandonment,” Dieter scoffed, shaking his head as he tuned out their typical deflections to save himself the hurt.

When he felt a hand slide against his bicep, looping their arm with his, he almost jumped, but one look to his right side and he was met with Violet’s smile—one that seemed to wash away all thought.

“Found you,” she mumbled with a grin, Dieter’s lips curling up out of instinct. Violet’s eyes soon turned to his parents, her smile turning into a flat line as she glared at them. “If you two don’t mind, we have a party to get to.”

Dieter had never been more attracted to her than when she was guiding him away from his parents and down the hall to his dressing room, shooting him a knowing smile over her shoulder as she led the way.

It was moments like this that he wished he could set aside his feelings for her and just fuck her, but no matter how hard he tried to tap into his old ways, his heart and mind were dead set on giving her more.

If he was going to sleep with her, it wasn’t going to be a one off hookup, wasn’t going to be something quick and fleeting, it was going to fucking change his entire life. And as much as he wanted to dive head first into everything her, he knew he just wasn’t ready. He’d fuck it up like he always did.

“You did way too good tonight to be brought down by your shitty parents,” she assured once they were in the peace and quiet of his dressing room, spinning around to cup his cheeks.

There was a point, even if momentary, that he thought this would never happen. He assumed they’d be cold to each other, or at best friendly, but this—her hands on his face, his eyes locked on hers, the look between them that anyone could clearly see was adoration—was never in even his wildest of dreams.

“Can I kiss you?” His request was whispered, almost shy, as though it was an outrageous thing to ask. Violet tilted her head, her smile soft and just barely there as she studied him carefully, letting his question hang in the air for a moment before she was nodding. Dieter almost whimpered—something yearning and desperate inside of him surfacing for a moment. He whispered to her as he leaned in, his hands cupping her face. “You’re so beautiful.”

Violet knew the deal—she knew that these moments came with no strings attached. When he got lonely she was there and vice versa. To read any further into things was to admit defeat in this battle she was fighting internally. A battle she wasn’t quite ready to give up yet.

Dieter held her close, though his kiss remained soft enough for her to pull away at any moment. But she didn’t seem to want to. He smiled as he felt her hug him tight, his hands lowering to her waist and squeezing. He would’ve been content to stay that way forever, but of course…

“D, we gotta get you to the after party.” Andrea walked in, eying the two as they pulled away from each other breathlessly. Dieter pinched Violet’s chin, smirking down at her before turning to nod at his manager.

“Alright, just let me change.” Both Andrea and Violet left the room, though he wouldn’t have given two shits if they stayed, especially the latter.

After changing into a silk button down that was one size too big and a pair of black trousers, Dieter was making his exit from 30 Rock hand in hand with the most beautiful woman in New York City as far as he was concerned, a rare smile on his face as he waved at the paparazzi.

It seemed his fake happiness was starting to become real—and god, did that make him want to throw up.

Walking into the party, he held onto Violet’s waist, keeping her close and shielding her from everyone trying to steal her away from him.

Violet turned around, Dieter’s hand sliding to the small of her back as she leaned into him to speak over the music. “I’m gonna go get a drink, do you want anything?”

“Uh,” Dieter spotted his dealer and a few of his party friends from over her shoulder, the craving for a couple little white lines distracting him. “Just a gin and tonic. I’m, uh, gonna go to the mens room for a second.”

“Okay,” she nodded and gave him a smile before leaving him to go to the bar. Dieter watched her until she disappeared and quickly made a bee-line for the bathroom, his dealer grinning and waving at him as he neared.

“Haven’t heard from you all month,” the all-business appearing skeeze welcomed Dieter to their little bathroom party with his hands on his shoulders.

“Been busy.” Dieter kept his eye on the constantly opening and closing door as his friend set up a few lines for him on the counter. Dieter wasted no time in leaning down and snorting the white powder up, one line at a time. As he moved to snort the last line, the door swung open.

“They didn’t have any tonic, so—“ Dieter interrupted Violet with a snort, his eyes wide as he turned to see the last person he ever wanted to show this side to. Violet looked at him with a mixture of disappointment and concern, the couple remaining frozen and silent for a few beats.

“Lovely to meet you, I’m Alex. Can I fix you a line as well?” The dealer leant his hand out for Violet to shake but Dieter was quick to slap it away, giving him a warning glare as he watched Violet storm out of the doorway and back into the party. Wiping his nose, he rushed out to follow her, his heart racing from the drug and his own fear of fucking up his chances with her.

Dieter found Violet by the bar, tossing back shots with one of his “friends”, a fellow actor who was safe but a total slut—and that meant a lot coming from Dieter fuckin’ Bravo.

“You know, you’re even more beautiful in person. It’s usually the other way around,” the actor flirted, tucking Violet’s hair behind her ears.

“Does that line usually work for you?” She chuckled, now sipping on a cocktail through a little black straw.

“Usually. Is it working now?” He smirked at her as she shrugged, Dieter now quickly losing his composure as he watched the scene unfold before his eyes.

“Fuck off, Matt.” Dieter stormed over, stepping into the space between their bodies and glaring at his friend. “She’s with me.”

“She’s with nobody,” Violet corrected, glaring at Dieter for causing a scene, his blown out pupils a reminder of why she was so upset in the first place.

“Sorry, mate, I didn’t know the two of you were together for real,” his friend held up his hands in defense, giving Violet an apologetic look before he was leaving the couple alone.

“You just told Matt Smith to fuck off!” Violet scolded, too drunk to care about her volume.

“Relax, he’s a friend,” Dieter assured as he ordered a drink for himself. “A friend you seemed to be enjoying.”

“Are you jealous?” She accused with more irritation than he was hoping for.

“I’m not—not jealous, Violet. I just think if we go around flirting with other people, our little fucking showmance is gonna start to unravel.”

“I’m not your girlfriend, Dieter. If I want to flirt with someone, I’m going to flirt.” Dieter turned to her with a raised eyebrow, both turned on and enraged by her independence.

Though it was surely the drugs in control, he thought it would be fun to give her a taste of her own medicine. Turning to his other side, he spotted a model sipping on a vodka soda.

“Hey, you wanna have sex with me?” He asked as though the answer was obvious, and judging by the girl’s smile, it was.

“Sure.” Violet scoffed at her eagerness, Dieter turning back to her with a smirk.

“You’re not my girlfriend, right? So I can fuck who I please tonight?” Violet had never looked more disgusted with him, and if he’d been sober, he definitely would’ve dropped to his knees and pled for forgiveness—but he wasn’t sober right now. He was just an asshole.

“Do whatever the fuck you want, Dieter. I’m going home.” Violet set her drink down and made her way out of the party, Dieter’s eyes following her until she left the club.

“So…your place?” The model approached him, her hand sliding up his chest.

“If you sign an NDA.”

•••

Violet woke up around three in the morning to the sound of moans coming from their hotel suite’s kitchen. Furrowing her brows, she walked over to her bedroom door and cracked it open, gasping when she saw Dieter leaning back against the fridge, the model from earlier on her knees for him.

Though she felt fucking sick with jealousy—truly, she could’ve vomited right there on the fucking floor if she wasn’t so determined on keeping up her appearance—she couldn’t help but steal a glance at his appendage. After so many nights of dreaming about it, the real thing made her gasp. He was hung like a goddamn horse.

Dieter’s head was tipped back, his body bare besides the robe he kept with him like a security blanket. He held onto her head and guided her to take him in deep, vulgar slurping sounds filling the space as though he completely forgot about his roommate. Violet almost stormed out, enraged by the fact that he’d let anyone besides her get to feel him so closely—closer than she had yet to get—but soon, a name slipping off his lips in a breathless moan made her totally forget her rage.

“Oh, fuck, Violet. So fucking good.” Violet covered her mouth as she gasped, watching as the model pulled away from him and very hoarsely corrected his slip-up in names. “Yeah, sure, whatever, just don’t stop.”

“You’re a fucking asshole.” The model stood up and fixed her outfit, seemingly having been on her way out of the hotel room before he seduced her one more time in the kitchen, storming out of the room with a slam of the door.

Dieter sighed at his still-raging erection, pumping it with his open fist until he was painting the kitchen tile white with a feral growl slipping from his lips.

Violet looked on at the scene, his flushed chest heaving from his orgasm ripping through his body, his long and thick cock dripping white as he stroked it lazily, his soft moans filling the room like the most beautiful song she’d ever heard.

“Next time you bring someone home—don’t.” Violet announced her presence, watching as Dieter jumped and let out a girlish shriek. Giving him a stern look, she watched him as he stayed frozen in place, his eyes lowering to his now half-softened length.

“You wanna—“

“Fuck you, Dieter.” She slammed her bedroom door and locked it. Though she still very much did “wanna”, it wasn’t going to be that fucking easy for him.

No matter how beautiful and impressively fucking hung he was.

•••

dieter taglist: @browneyes-issac @wildemaven @laureliciousdefinition @trinkets01 @paulalikestuff @toomanystoriessolittletime @alwayslurkinginthebackground @pastelnap @fishingforpike @littlemisspascal @wheresarizona @pedropascalsx (please let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist!)

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #dieter bravo series #dieter bravo bubble #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo angst #dieter bravo fluff #dieter bravo x oc #dieter bravo smut #plastic hearts

[revvywevvy]

I’m not gonna stop you from your Cheerful Chip fan fiction

Matter in fact To be honest I’m always wonder what kind of wonderful improved artful art than the last art will be with you and Chip will be

It’s just that I’m think there is a certain sad wet cat waiting on the porch metaphorically saying

But beside that, Your Art has improved over the time and I am glad to have witnessed it

-H/B Anon

P.s. I don’t know if the wording color is for you ,for me it’s Black

P.p.s. How bout role swap, our beloved Himbo and Bimbo as Toons and their beloved Chelly as a Cog (a tall Chelly is something )

hiiiiiiii nonny~ hehe thank you very much for all of the encouraging words, I appreciate it so much!!!! <3 don't worry, misty will get the braincell soon. however. for now we have more pressing things to discuss. the role swap au.

You got me going again SOOOO much lmao- Here they are!!!! The poly roleswapped!!! Unfortunately Chelly. does not get much taller lol She's just a bit taller than the tallest possible toon species'. Chelly is based on those cute little vacuums with the little faces on them. You've seen those before, right? If not please look them up they're so cute.

I'LL WRITE ALL THE INFO UNDER THE CUT BC THIS GETS VERY LONG <3

Chip is a wolf toon, and Misty is a sheep toon! Both ideas were by my lovely friend @photon-crest-art whose input I appreciate sooo much!!! her ideas got me going foaming at the mouth crazy over this role swap even more than I already was SDHGDSGHDSHS also tagging @frostbite-the-bat bc they also hyped me up a lot while I was in the process of making all these!!! <3

When it comes to the whole override thing, Chip just. Goes absolutely wild at night sometimes. He's a werewolf!!! But. literally since he's already a wolf. this was also photon's idea thank you photooooon heehee <3

Misty has her weather powers still! So she can still change weather phases and essentially smite people with lightning if they make her really mad lol

Unfortunately both toons are outcast because of their respective 'quirks'. However, to their surprise, one person does support them through it all! They weren't expecting it to be this absolute nervous wreck of a cog who is, surprisingly, very very silly and toon-like! She clings to them like glue, but they appreciate it so much!! I feel like toon Chip and toon Misty would both be very sad very lonely toons, perhaps becoming more prone to bouts of low laff and poor health as such from such a poor mental state. However, they've got each other now and Chelly too!! Just like how the normal toon Chelly's health was pretty shit due to her mental state but improved having Chip and Misty around, she's now able to pay that love back ten-fold in this au!! Hehe it always comes back to 'love heals' with me <3

OH YES AND I WROTE CHELLY'S COG STATS!!!! a. and potential bossfight cutscenes. um. yeah. I went a little overboard haha. these cutscenes are uh. I think they're longer than the ones in-game??? I. don't know. I think they are. sorry not sorry >u<

Manager Chelly

The Mechanician

Location: “Pain, Pain, Go Away” Mechanical Clinic, Sunflower Street [Daffodil Gardens]

Cog Overview

Department | Bossbot

Position | Regional Manager

HP | 4800

Defense | 65

Lvl | 26.mgr

Lowest Damage | 25

Highest Damage | 31

Real Name | Eureka Numa “Chelly” Honeywell

Honorifics | Dr. / Ms. / Mx.

Employee ID | 01899

Likes | Tinkering, Cute and Soft Things, Comfortable Silence, Singing

Dislikes | Unwarranted Judgement, Violence (Most of the Time), Social Overstimulation

Content Sync

100 Laff Soft Cap (107 Max)

All Gags Permitted

Pink Slips restricted

Opening Cutscene 

The Toons enter the doors at the far back of the building, leading them to the real cog clinic inside. The Mechanician is seen speaking to a Flunky. Neither cog seems to notice their approach, as they are focused on their consultation while the Toons get closer.

“...and that should do it then, little sprout!”

 “Are you sure this is alright, Ms. Honeywell? Wouldn’t the Chairman get angry over that?”

At the Flunky’s concerns, the Mechanician fiddles with her hands. She shakes her head before re-addressing the Flunky.

“...R-Right. He may see it as ‘slacking’, but… well. You know how I feel about that. Just… try to heed my instructions to the best of your ability.” 

“Whatever you have the room to do, okay, bud? Remember, your health comes first.”

“Yes, ma’am! Thank you again.”

The Flunky begins to fly away, and with a nod, she sees him off.

“Of course. Come back any time!”

The Mechanician sighs, shaking her head.

“Ugh. You’d think that man-baby would realize sooner… without us all, he’s…-”

She trails off, turning upon noticing the Toons. She startles, letting out a squeak at their presence, but tries to relax herself to make conversation with them.

“Ah! T-Toons?! Uh- Ahem.” 

“Um… hello there! Are you… perhaps here for a check-up? I apologize, but… um, ahaha.. I-I only know how to treat cogs.”

“Unless you… have an appliance in need of fixing? I can do that too…”

The Toons get angry. The Mechanician pulls her hands up to her chest, taking a few steps back, clearly nervous.

“Eep! O-Okay, message received… U-Um… oh, look! Is that, um, a doodle pup?”

The Mechanician gestures behind the toons. The Toons turn around to look, all confused when they see nothing. The Mechanician begins tip-toeing away while they’re distracted. One toon looks back at her and exclaims as they see her try to sneak away. She yelps and breaks into a panicked sprint, running off into another, much larger room room further in the building. The Toons make chase.

She runs into a storage room and to an emergency escape door. However, before she reaches it, a stick of TNT thrown by a toon lands in front of the door. She startles and stumbles away from it before it explodes. The exit is now unusable. She turns, and the toons have caught up to her.

“Oh no… wait, h-hold on..! Surely we can talk things out civilly, r-right?! I… I really don’t want to fight you!”

The Toons refuse and begin to approach, the Mechanician backing up towards the wall as they close in.

“N-No, please!! I don’t want to hurt anyone… please don’t make me! I… someone, help!!”

The Mechanician reaches into her pocket, pulling out a panic button and pressing it with shaking hands. Once she does, two cogs promptly fly into the room, landing at the Mechanician’s sides. The battle begins.

Ending Cutscene (Mercy)

The Mechanician reaches to her power core, hand hovering over it shakily. She is clearly in immense pain, her panic now reaching a boiling point as she realizes how injured she really is. Suddenly, her hands clench into fists and she quakes through the pain, knocking the toons off their feet. The quake doesn’t damage the toons, however.

“STOP!!!! THAT.. IS QUITE.. ENOUGH!!!”

She shakes her head, pulling her hands to her chest protectively and looking at the Toons as they rise to their feet.

“Why…?! I’ve been clear from the beginning that I didn’t want to fight! But… B-But you just won’t LISTEN!”

Her hands rise, holding her head in distress.

“Wh-What do you even get from this… from hurting me?!”

The Toons do nothing.

“I… I get it. This war. It… must be so stressful on you. On all of you.”

“B-But… I’ve been careful… so, so careful!”

The Mechanician turns her head, looking away from the toons for a moment before turning back to them.

“I… I know we’re *supposed* to fight toons, but… I’ve never seen the point. All of this violence is ridiculous to me.”

“All I’ve ever wanted was to stay on the sidelines, and to help those who were hurt.”

“I mean… I’ve never even gone out and fought toons before, anyhow! ...So… why? W-Why me?”

The Toons do nothing.

“...Ah. So that’s why. You see me as a threat… because of what I do for my fellow suits?”

The Mechanician shakes her head in disappointment.

“Have you Toons ever put yourselves in a Suit’s shoes? A-At least… just for a moment?”

“If you did, you’d understand. I… I understand the plight you Toons go through.”

“However, you’re not the only ones suffering. Whether they fall low or high on the chain of command… we all hurt, just the same.”

She pauses, wincing in pain herself. She’s visibly twitching and glitching out.

“Wh-What, do you think we deserve for our pain to stick forever? That no-obody should help us when we’re hurt?”

“......”

“Could you i-i-imagine it yourself? Feeling like gravity’s about to crush you… i-into small, mushy, toony bits?” 

“Where… where all yo-o-ou can do is panic, and hope? Because, at th-that point, there’s nothing you can do? No way to mov-ve, or call out… or anything.”

“...You’d want your fe-ellow toons to help you when you’re hur-ur-hurt and scared, wouldn’t you?”

The Toons do nothing.

“...Right. I’d h-hope so. At the mo-oment it may be all f-fun and games… and I wish it st-stayed that way. B-B-But we.. all know that isn’t the case.”

The Mechanician sighs, twitching more heavily than before.

“...”

“W-Well… perhaps this experience has.. given you some food for thought.”

The Mechanician pauses, seeing an opening in the roof from the battle. She looks at the Toons one last time, expression saddened.

“Now… i-if… if you’ll ex-excuse me. Seems… this repairwoman… n-needs some repairing, herself. Please… if you can help it… d-don’t come back.”

The Mechanician moves to fly away, but one of the toons walks ahead of the group, pausing near her. She pauses, watching the toon for a moment, before nodding.

“It’s okay, I understand. I-I-IIIIIIIIIII-”

“..I forgive you.”

The Mechanician flies away.

Ending Cutscene (Defeat)

The Mechanician reaches to her power core, hand hovering over it shakily. She is clearly in immense pain, her panic now reaching a boiling point as she realizes how injured she really is. Suddenly, her hands clench into fists and she quakes through the pain, knocking the toons off their feet.

“STOP!!!! THAT.. IS QUITE.. ENOUGH!!!”

She shakes her head, pulling her hands to her chest protectively and looking at the Toons as they rise to their feet.

“Why…?! I’ve been clear from the beginning that I didn’t want to fight! But… B-But you just won’t LISTEN!”

Her hands rise, holding her head in distress.

“Wh-What do you even get from this… from hurting me?!”

The Toons attack.

“Gh-!! ……Heartless… y-you’re all heartless!”

The Mechanician pauses, seeing an opening in the roof from the battle. She looks at the Toons one last time, expression disgusted.

“I see now… w-why the Chairman insists we fight you T-T-Toons. You’re just as cr-cruel as some of those suits can be.”

The Mechanician flies away.

Notes

[Sorry no specific Cheats past the usual ‘Cog Capacity’ and ‘Lure Resistance’ ones because my brain is kind of melting right now lol. Also no specific damages listed with each attack besides what I already said above about the minimum and maximum for the same reason.]

Another note about cheats, I know for certain she’d have a sort of healing cheat. Knowing her personality she’d end up healing herself, her allies AND the toons. She just wanna be frens :(

Attacks

Guilt Trip

Water Cooler

Brain Storm

Rolodex

Her employee ID is based on the approximate year the first motorized vacuum was invented.

Excluding her nickname "Chelly", her first, middle and last name are all based on various companies that produce vacuums.

I was initially going to have it that all rewards could be used, but with how cog Chelly is, she'd do anything to ensure that pink slips wouldn't be used. She thinks the canons would hurt the cogs, or that someone, toon or cog, might get hit in the crossfire.

also that 3rd drawing, the transparent one. sticker :)))))))))))

#913's art #ok to rb #very long post #cw robot gore #cw gore #♡ chip revvington #♡ misty monsoon #anthro #toontag #toontown corporate clash #toontown #ttcc #chainsaw consultant #chip revvington #ttcc rainmaker #rainmaker #misty monsoon #self ship art #self insert #t: euca lyptus #self insert community #q4q self ship #wlw self ship #role swap au #//woooooooooo autism beaaaaaaammmmm............. uhhh...... falls over asleep bc its literally 4am

[chansswag]

dating wayv headcannons!!

[for those who do not want to read about lucas, he will be added at the end for those who do 🤍]

(i’m still a bit iffy on the personalities on Kun and Winwin so please let that slide 😭)

Kun:

Kun is more of the calmer boyfriend of everyone. still not ‘calm’ but calmER. when you’re in public he’ll glare at everyone who even looks at you. he never says anything as he knows his glare is enough. he lets you borrow any of his clothing , especially if you’re not feeling well. he loves to see the oversized shirts and hoodies and sometimes even buys 2 when he’s out shopping. i also think he loves movie nights! the idea of cuddling up to you and either screaming or laughing at anything playing on the tv is so soft and comforting to him, his arms around your waist while you lay on him, slowly rubbing small circles on your back :((( what else could you want fr.

Yangyang:

As well as ten, he’s also a tease. not in the same way, Yangyangs more into using his affection by his words. if he wants something, he’ll simply look up to you and ask you, and it makes your heart melt everytime. he always gets what he wants how can you even say no to him let’s be real. with kisses he’s more of a gentle type. he’s the kind of boyfriend to appreciate every little thing you do. when you’re cooking he will come up to you from behind, wrap his arms around your waist and simple press small kisses against the back of your ear. he knows how to make you smile. and you can’t wish for anything more.

Ten:

Ten is the type of boyfriend everyone wants. he can be sarcastic, and you two bicker a lot. not in hatred though. just making fun of each other like usual. (like ten and yangyang do). sometimes people might not even think you two are together unless you tell them. he will give you soft kisses on and around your lips also!! hes a sucker for temple / forhead kisses. he’s also a tease. even chuckling in the most serious moments and situations. at night he has two sides. either he’s either to tired for hugs and cuddles and turns around with a group trying to sleep (we all know he loves his sleep) or sometimes he’s cuddling up to you to the point you can’t even move. his leg around your waist and arm hanging off your shoulder. it all depends on his mood. he’s honesty a wonder to you, and that’s what makes him him, and what makes you love him more and more every day.

Hendery:

he’s so real omg. hendery always try to make you laugh. even if it means embarrassing himself to just get a smallest chuckle out of you. when you’re upset, it won’t be for much longer if he’s with you. even if he’s not there and you’re upset he will try his very hardest to find any funny memes to send you and even laugh at it himself. when you’re out in public, he’s usually a hand holder and he’s a sucker for interlocking fingers. he does that thing where you swing your hands forward and backwards, and even tries to skip away and forces you to go where he goes and chuckling the same time. overall he is very happy to have you as a s/o and will do anything to see you happy.

Xiaojun:

LMAO don’t get me started. he loves to play around and like Hendery, he loves to make you laugh. he says the most out of pocket things to see how you’ll react just to entertain himself. he has movie marathons with you a lot, and dance battles to prove “who’s the better dancer” he sings you songs usually as you’re trying to sleep and calmly sings them in your ear. as mentioned before he loves to play games. either it be something simple as rock paper scissors or a whole game of pretending to be different characters from his and yours favourite shows.

Winwin:

winwin loves to suprise you with small things. all of these add up and it makes you appreciate him even more than you did the day before. hell surprise you with a bunch of flowers everytime you meet which he freshly picked with his own hands and gathered together. he tries to practice his english with you alot and even tries to learn your home language to communicate with you. (if you have another language spoken). he loves you every second of the day. his hugs are warm and soft, and you cannot wait until he comes home every night and attacks you into the bed and into his arms, scooping you up. you can lay there for hours and hours and not get bored. his presence is enough to keep you warm.

Lucas:

he’s definitely a praiser. he compliments every chance he gets. and everytime he compliments you he 100% wants one back LMAO. he always talks about how handsome he is, so i can imagine how he is to his s/o. he will be very loud in a relationship and not the ‘quiet’ boyfriend. not i’m the slightest. he’s not afraid to show you all sides of him. good to bad, sad or happy. he wants to spend all of his time wit you. even if he can’t be with you physically, expect a phone call or text message at least once every hour / half and hour.

#ten #wayv #wayv fanfic #wayv kun #wayv xiaojun #wayv winwin #wayv scenarios #wayv yangyang #wayv lucas #wayv ten #wayv hendery #wayv imagines #kpop #kpop imagines #nct #nctzen #nct imagines #nct scenarios #Spotify

[fyodorloveclub]

Hi, my favorite thigh humpers it's me 🪱 again. omg, two asks back to back? and not literally three months apart? guys therapy is working. actually, I haven't had a therapy appointment in three months! not because I don't need it but because I keep forgetting 🥰 also Flora I know you're busy and need time to go through your inbox and reply so don't worry about getting back to me!

anyways do you guys like fictional war criminals' cocks? I bet you do! (if not why tf are you on this blog 😭 ) Well boy do I have the thing for you! unhinged HC about Fyodor featuring me describing his dick at random throughout the post.

-Fyodor is a regular customer buying body butter on Etsy, his favorite scent is sweet alpha musk.

-Fyodor only uses the towels he bought at a garage sale that has like the cupid babies embroidered on them and has "Love" sewn into them.

-Fyodor calls the stem of a grape the butt plug of nature.

-Fyodor won't admit it but all he wants to do is take a warm bath, while ABBA plays in the background.

-Fyodor once kidnapped a 4-year-old during the 2011 Olympics at 8:07pm in Shanghai China. He took to a restaurant because kids under the age of 10 get to eat for free and he lost his wallet while bike riding. The kid had tons of fun and Fyodor even got her a stuffed bear from the arcade. He is now on a watchlist. Fyodor's dick is a 6.9889 inches

-Fyodor has like ten pairs of shoes and each one of them is embroidered with FBGM, or Fuck Bitches Get Money. Nikola said it was an abbreviation of a famous passage in the bible. Fyodor is an idiot lmao anyways fuck bitches get money RAHH

-Fyodor likes to eat his bread rolls as if he's a starving victorian child. Sigma doesn't know if he doesn't because it's funny or if it's a trauma response. Fyodor's dick leans about 20 degrees to the right. \

-Fyodor likes talking and strolls through parks quite often :)

-Fyodor was a head campaign manager for Obama's re-election year! he also embezzled 100,000 USD from the US government.

-Fyodor dresses up all his pets in clothes every day. and on holidays he comes up with matching outfits

-Fyodor half the time doesn't know what he's doing when he's hacking, he kinda just presses random buttons and hopes he doesn't accidentally doesn't shut down some country's water system. He's smart enough to easily learn and pick up on patterns of code but is just too lazy some days. His dick is rather skinny but he knows how to use it

-Fyodor is a fan of Kafka's work so one day he decided to read letters to Milena, Fyodor no longer believes in love because know has ever told him that "in a way, you are like poetry material; you are full of cloudy subtitles I am willing to spend a lifetime figuring out." lmao he literally was so dramatic afterward. Nikola complimented his outfit and he said: "if you don't tell me I am like poetry that you're willing to spend your life figuring out then don't fucking say anything."

-Fyodor may or may not have had a bbl. his tip is a light flush pink and the base is slightly tanner than the rest of his body not by much but it's noticeable enough.

-Fyodor thought S&M by Rihanna was about getting arrested. LMAO

-Fyodor one time had to go pee so bad he used a Gatorade bottle to pee in and left it on the side of the road that said: 'for those with a piss kink'

-Fyodor has fought an 11-year-old at Mc Donalds because, in their BTS meal, they got a Namjoon photocard. (they only did the photocard thing in Korea I think)

-Fyodor ran up two flights of stairs passed out and ended up taking care of some old lady's apartment while she traveled through Europe

-Fyodor can't pronounce the word pronounced. I want his cock shoved down my throat.

-Fyodor collects stickers but doesn't know what to stick them on too so now he has two drawers of stickers. his balls are about average darker than the rest, and he's well-trimmed.

-Fyodor has thought about marrying his hat, and having sex with it! he was on acid at this time.

welp, that's all for today, sorry if this was short, and also sorry if this is like spamming? again no need to answer me right away mwah

Sincerely your one and only fuckable hat

-🪱

literally no words there is nothing i could say to make this any better im just gonna sit here and cackle thank u so much

the random descriptions of his cock thrown in genuinely kill me

#💀💀💀💀 #🪱 demon #voices in my head #{ musings; fyodor }

[almost-a-class-act]

Writing Pattern Game

Thanks for the tag, @mercurygray !

Rules: Share the first line of your last ten published works or as many as you are able and see if there are any patterns! (We're going by AO3 because Tumblr's search function makes me want to tie myself to a chair and jettison myself into space.)

Having expected to find Joe in the kitchen at this time of the morning – Joe is a creature of routine in a way that is deeply comforting, like bringing home one of the slices of army life that Ed had liked better than most – Ed pokes his head curiously around the doorway of the glorified closet they very charitably describe as a dining room and finds him standing stock still, the debris of an opened package in front of him on the carefully polished tabletop. (Home to You, Liebgott/Tipper)

They are all so accustomed to the sound of Sobel’s voice by now, and the fact that it’s never good news to find yourself within earshot, that nobody winces anymore unless they specifically hear their own name. (Make the Breaking Last, Cobb/Hoobler)

David leans over the sink, close enough that his breath fogs up the mirror, and uses one hand to flatten the bulk of his hair while he combs out the offending section. (The Middle of Growing Up and Getting Old, Webster/Liebgott)

George looks down at the bowl of oatmeal and attempts to be as neutral as possible when he says, “Hey, just to double-check. Are there bugs in this?” (Same Old Light, various pairings)

There are hospitals before the one in Atlantic City, but that’s the one where Joe spends the most time. (Loose Ends, Luz/Toye)

The first time Joe turns up, it takes Chuck so long to answer the door that Joe doesn’t think he’s going to. (Where the Pieces Go, Liebgott & Grant)

The war, like a giant beast, has chewed everything up and left a husk of the world in its wake. (Understand That I'd Never Let it Go, Renee/Anna)

Lena is scheduled to go on leave in July. (Hope, Like a Guard Rail, Like a Life Vest, Lena/Stella)

Chuck doesn’t remember it later, waking and sleeping and waking and sleeping. (You & Me, in the War, Grant/Speirs)

People assume that when Joe thinks about his life, it’s in terms of before the accident and after. (You Got the Best of Me, Luz/Toye)

Thoughts:

-My first thought was, pattern? There is no pattern. Some are very long, and some are short. Some of them drop you right into the action, and some of them zoom out and start with an introduction to what will be a series of vignettes in an arc. You can't tell from this, but some of them standalone in the story and some of them are part of a longer paragraph.

-I noticed that Merc's were all very punchy and attention-grabbing, which I love as a style choice, while in comparison mine seem to be more about placing the reader immediately in time, like cramming in expository information in as few words as possible, lol. That makes sense because exposition can eat my ass is boring to write.

-I'll be real with you, I often skip the beginning and write the ending or the more interesting parts first, so it gives me more opportunities to play around with the beginning. Maybe that's what makes them all kind of different from each other.

Tagging: the SASRH crowd because I know y'all been writing fic like we're paying you, lmao. Off the top of my head: @eoinmcgonigal @just-barrow @davidstirlings @leftenantjopson @butternuggets-blog @lengthy-artery + anyone else I missed

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