#incubito

[whispersoftheveil]

@incubito / for cobb as promised :3

he  should  feel  content.

he  should  feel  accomplished.

he  should  feel  happy  that  grogu  was  back  where  he  belonged  —  safe  and  protected  by  the  jedi  named  skywalker,  surrounded  by  people  who  could  teach  him  to  control  his  abilities  and  grow  stronger.  it  was  a  good  thing.  a  great  thing,  even.  he  should  be  glad  the  kid  was  safe.  and  he  was,  in  a  way,  but  he  missed  the  little  womp  rat  more  than  he  would  ever  admit  out  loud.  was  he  safe?  was  he  happy?  was  he  being  taken  care  of?  as  a  foundling,  grogu  had  been  his  duty.  his  charge.  his  mission.  now  he  belonged  to  someone  else  and  truthfully,  din  didn't  like  that  in  the  slightest.  but  alas...  the  way  of  the  mandalore  was  never  meant  to  be  easy.

was  he  still  following  it?

he  had  to  be.  but  doubt  had  started  creeping  in  ever  since  meeting  bo-katan  and  her  people.  the  way  they  spoke  about  mandalorians.  the  way  they  looked  at  him.  what  if  the  armorer  had  lied?  what  if  all  of  it  was  wrong?  his  jaw  tightened  beneath  the  helmet.  no.  now  wasn't  the  time  to  think  about  that.

for  the  first  time  in  a  long  time,  din  didn't  know  where  to  go.  he  was  an  apostate,  shunned  by  his  own  people  and  the  razor  crest  had  been  home  for  years.  without  it,  he  didn't  know  where  he  was  supposed  to  be  anymore.  peli  claimed  she  had  a  replacement  waiting  for  him,  which  was  the  only  reason  he'd  returned  to  tatooine  in  the  first  place,  though  said  replacement  was  still  weeks  away  from  being  finished.  he  didn't  like  that  much  either.

somehow,  he  found  himself  back  in  mos  pelgo.

the  borrowed  speeder  bike  rattled  beneath  him  as  he  rolled  into  town,  stopping  in  front  of  the  bar.  a  lot  had  changed  since  the  krayt  dragon.  the  town  looked  steadier  now.  safer.  people  moved  through  the  streets  without  fear  hanging  over  them  quite  so  heavily,  and  deep  down,  he  was  glad  things  had  worked  out  for  them.

he  was  halfway  through  the  doorway  when  he  heard  an  all-too  familiar  voice  behind  him.  the  helmet  would  keep  his  secret  safe,  but  a  smile  tugged  on  his  lips  when  he  turned  around  to  face  mos  pelgo's  very  own  marshal. 

[menxsuckarchive]

@incubito gets DUSTIN for any of your DC/MARVEL muses (maybe Joker, Superman, or Frank) or anyone, really, with something to hide.

Blackmailing, shockingly, wasn't his strong suit. Dustin was more the type to take what he had and jump right into the deep end with it; consequence be damned. His whole motivation had always been to get the story out there and let the chips fall where they may... but more recently he had been finding it harder to make his bills; he had been finding it harder to support the lifestyle he wanted for himself.

So this time he was trying a different angle. Rather than publishing the damning evidence, and story, without a second of hesitation and taking the first pay out he considered canning the story altogether; for the right price.

The real issue was that regardless of what they agreed upon in their meeting, Dustin was still planning on selling everything he had on them; a classic double cross for double the profit.

After meeting in a crowded bar, which he thought would give him more protection and safety, and showing them every bit of information, and photographs, he had gathered to prove his story-- and agreeing to destroy it once they paid him $2000-- Dustin excused himself to the bathroom. It was performative, the way he left the folder of everything he had collected with them, because he had a copy on a small USB drive tucked into the coin pocket in his jeans.

"Yeah, I told them they could keep everything but I didn't tell them I had another copy," Dustin boldly admitted, aloud, with his phone tucked between his ear and his shoulder as he washed his hands in the bathroom. "The poor SOB has no idea what's about to hit. Just make sure you run the story under the alias I gave you. I don't want things coming back on me..." and then he saw their reflection in the mirror.

"Shit..."

[writtenmen]

@incubito:

was it rude of wyll to make solomon go down the ominous hole first? yes. but wyll wasn't exactly known for being polite. "don't worry, cedric. I'll bring him back safe and sound." he says to the crow who would now stand guard over the entrance to the flesh pits. "be a good birdy and keep an eye out." wyll follows down the ladder and into the dark. wyll touches down and onto the ground beside solomon. before them, in a cavern beneath the very city, a haven for dark magic dwelled. "beautiful, isn't it?" wyll smiles as a corpse shambles past them, unaware and uninterested in their presence. "I'd say you'd get used to the smell. but that would be a lie." the flesh pits reeked of rotting flesh, burnt flesh, and incense. "c'mon. we got an appointment with a necromancer." wyll grabs solomon by the hand, leading them into the cavern. the flesh pit was decorated with a medley of buildings, all made haphazardly out of whatever was available. the undead mermaid was a bar infamous for its entertainment and cheap drinks. entering the establishment, zombie bar maids and dancers mingled with unsavory guests. "careful. there's people around here who'll eat a pretty boy like you alive. literally." wyll teases with a smirk, scanning the tables for whoever he was supposed to meet that evening.

　　the deeper solomon descended, the more he regretted his decision. how could he allow himself to be convinced by wyll of all people? he had to remind himself why he wanted to go in there, the prospect of magic and mysticism at the reach of his hands being too tempting of an offer. all things a proper prince was not supposed to meddle with, and yet he could not resist it.

　　as solomon's feet were finally able to land, the prince had to take a deep breath. the scent of rotting flesh hit his nostrils like a punch, his stomach revolting but holding back on the urge to throw up. the moon was gone, its light replaced by that of burning torches all around. a town just as lively as that above them was presented to the royals, solomon clinging to the clasps on his hood as he made his way across the bodies that surrounded them - both alive and undead. a macabre sight the prince did not expect, but one he would need to get used to if he intended to make it back home before dawn.

　　"comedic as ever." the redhead muttered, finally able to speak as his need to vomit was put to rest. although the undead mermaid's offerings thus far could easily make it return at any moment. "considering i was able to meet you - and let you lure me in here on top of everything - i trust i can make it back safely." his eyes rolled back, choosing instead to ignore his guide for a moment and focus on everything else that surrounded him. once he looked past the morbid implications and the unbearable pestilence, he could admit there was an utter sense of fascination with everything around him. he could not like he saw, but he wanted to know how it was happening...

[endureall]

LOCATION     :         THE  FLAT  IRON  BUILDING,  NEW  YORK.

"     aren't  you  a  little  tired  of  this  now,  fishbowl?  it's  like  ...  midnight  now  and  people  are  trying  to  sleep.     "                 peter  says,  perched  on  the  side  of  the  building  as  he  looks  down  at  mysterio's  creation.  even  though  he  has  found  a  way  to  see  through  the  smoke  and  mirrors,  it's  obvious  that  the  man  has  done  his  best  to  improve  his  craft.  if  he  was  the  naive  hero  he  was  before,  he  might  have  fallen  for  it  again.

but  when  he  looks  away,  he  simply  needs  to  think  a  little  and  remove  all  distractions  ...  and  soon  enough  he  can  hear  the  whirring  of  drones  and  machines,  and  the  trick  is  broken.  to  prove  a  point,  he  shot  a  web  to  one  of  the  drones  ...  and  in  one  pull,  it  came  crashing  to  the  side  of  the  wall.  the  virtual  reality  flickered  then.      "     i've  already  see  this  trick  before,  beck.  you  got  something  else  there?     "

closed starter for @incubito.

[myriadpandora]

@incubito

Max & (Whoever you want)

Location: Some Small Coastal Italian Town, Local Ruins of the Romans made it a tourist stop

A Little Down Time

"It's not my fault they wanted to pay for my meal. I never said I was lost or without my family they assumed and I didn't correct them." Max was all sweet innocent smiles and soft curls, a gentle touch and a little nuzzle of affection when he wanted something, an older tourist couple with plenty of money, and easy mark, Max had also memorized their credit card numbers, and what hotel they were at so he could keep charging stuff to their room for the next few days, but that was immaterial. Until it did materialize into things. For him.

In reality he spoke more than enough Italian to get by and even if he didn't he had a translator in his ear piece. Still he gestured back to the pasta and then to the seat next to him. A silent offering of some of his food. While lithe and agile Max ate, and he ate a lot, as was evident as he shoveled his food into his cheeks now. So offering up food was a fairly considerate and rare thing for him.

[thrcbbing]

@incubito ⸻ cont'd from here

Peter's rarely been the type to go clubbing, he'd much rather stay at home and nerd out on his computer or chatting with the few friends he has managed to make after his life got turned upside down and he's had to rebuild his entire existence from the ground up. but because it's rare doesn't mean it doesn't happen on occasion, being Spider-Man did tons to boost his confidence and his willingness to try new things. this isn't the first time he's gone to this particular gay bar, in fact it was the Torch that introduced him to it. but this is a story for another day. right now, he's with Frank and he's been hell bent on trying to let the man relax and have some fun in his life for once.

it's not easy for Peter to get tipsy, his metabolism is incredibly fast and doesn't exactly allow him to get easily drunk anymore, so he's downed a multitude of cocktails to get there, smiley and giddy, on his way back to Frank with one goal in mind, see the Punisher move. "C'mooon!" he groans, hand still pushed out to him, waiting to be grabbed. "Just a little shake, Frankie boyyy! I know you got some moves in you!" he chuckles, stumbling slightly until his body lightly bumps into Frank's. "For meee? please?" and just like he did before, he tries to hit him with the same puppy dog eyes, though this time they're definitely drunkier.

[invigouros]

LOCATION     :     GLAMOUR'S  APARTMENT.

"     i  really  should  get  out  of  here,  huh?     "            gridlock  says,  his  voice  is  still  groggy  from  sleep,  his  breath  hot  against  the  older  man's  neck  as  he  chuckled.  he  was  only  supposed  to  be  here  to  catch  up  and  set  boundaries  between  him  and  max.  and  he  has  a  feeling  this  little  tryst,  however  good  it  fucking  feels,  was  gonna  complicate  things.  but  hey!  not  the  first  time  he's  been  in  a  complicated  situation,  especially  not  in  this  context.

instead  of  standing  up,  he  simply  wrapped  his  arms  around  glamour  ...  and  like  instinct,  his  hands  already  found  themselves  fondling  the  man's  tits,  as  his  cock  began  to  wake  on  the  snug  spot  between  the  older  man's  ass.  soon  ready  for  another  round.     "     do  you  want  me  out  of  here?  tell  me.     "

with @incubito / for glamour.