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pirate-queen-boy · 2 years ago

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But I'm not him anymore...

Gentle and warm, as the breeze passes by. The soft grass gently stirring in waves and the trees shifting subtly. Very few clouds of gray and gold glide across the sky, as the sun rests comfortably to the north. Crack, as an axe splits the wood in two. One of the hands holding the axe lets go to take one of the halves of wood. After adjusting it properly, the axe is brought down again. Crack, from a half to quarters. The quarters are added to the pile, and the remaining half is put in their place. Crack, as the final half is too, reduced to quarters. Those ones as well, are added to the pile.

Ethan sticks the axe head into the stump. He removes his gloves and throws them atop the stump. This is enough wood for one day. He looks off into the horizon, and catches his breath. The hills are high and mighty, standing over a small valley just below. It’s the afternoon, but it looks like the evening. The air is perfect, Ethan could enjoy it forever. But the winters become harsh. This is why he must chop wood. As the sound of the gentle breeze graces his ears, Ethan hears the wind picking up. Strange, it doesn’t feel that way. As the sound of rushing wind grows ever so subtly, yet noticeably louder, it is accompanied by another sound; a high pitched ringing, or whistling. Ethan immediately knows that sound isn’t wind. He looks to the south, it seems like that’s where the sound is coming from.

The sound draws closer, not only becoming louder, but changing. The whistling becomes an electronic buzz, before finally, the source of the sound reveals itself. A ship, fighter class, a modified V-K88 Zemaatra Interceptor model. An angular, smaller vessel designed for speed and maneuverability, outfitted with its own hyperdrive. Its paint job is bright red with yellow designs running through it, and a rounded, near dome-like windshield that one could mistake for well-polished chrome. Ethan would have been weary of a random ship entering his atmosphere… if not for the insignia painted onto the side of it. A bit faded and scratched as it was, it depicted a thin white ring around a blooming lotus flower, with a fountain of flame erupting from the center. A symbol Ethan would not soon forget.

The ship parks itself not too close to Ethan, on a nearby hill. Ethan watches as it lands, then promptly unfolds a ladder on each side near the cockpit, and finally watches as the rounded windshield rolls back into the ship. From afar, Ethan can’t clearly tell who’s getting out of the ship. This figure, whoever they are, begins walking toward Ethan promptly. Ethan can make out their clothes; a white-tan long coat, sleeveless, revealing the sleeves of the top beneath it, pale yellow, and tucked into a pair of more white-tan gloves. The stranger is a bit closer now, Ethan can see their clearly blue head. It doesn’t take long after that for Ethan to figure out who this is.

Kallick Novaghaster walks until he’s hardly more than a couple meters from Ethan. He looks up on Ethan, as he’s standing on a slope going downward from him. They both give each other a friendly grin. Ethan takes notice of his bright red eye, surrounded by skin that is glossy and dark gray, in opposition to his blue skin, and his left, clearly lime-green eye. “New prosthetic.” He comments, “I remember when that thing used to look like an eyepatch.” Kallick exhales through his nose, clearly humored by Ethan’s comment. “And I never thought I’d see you wearing a plaid flannel.” Kallick replies. The two of them share a bit of a laugh. The two of them sigh-off their laughter, and Ethan notices something else. “You look older. Than I thought you would, I mean.” - “Space-time dilation. It’s been over eighteen years for me.” Kallick looks right past Ethan, to a little wood cabin mere yards behind him. He continues, “Still, last time I saw you, you didn’t have a whole life here yet.” Ethan slowly glances back to his cabin, then looks back at Kallick, “yeah, I’m pushing a decade here.”

Kallick nods in understanding, then looks around at the environment. “You picked a really nice world. Perfect atmospheric density, stunning terrain, uncolonized…” - “Uncharted, actually.” Kallick, still marveling at the environment, makes a gesture of acknowledgement toward Ethan. After a beat of silence, Kallick finishes, “...But a green star, really?” Ethan shrugs, “I like how it makes the sky look.” to which Kallick gave an understanding hum. Another beat of silence, and then Kallick asks, “May I come inside?” Ethan nods, and waves a hand over, “yeah, I’ll make some Guierdan Mordvain tea.” The two of them begin walking up to Ethan’s cabin, Kallick picking up his pace to meet Ethan. “Guierdan? Where’d you get that?” he asked, to which Ethan replied, “I never ran out. It was a gift from Rannok, remember?” - “I don’t. My gift from them was jerky from a Pollkeg.”

The inside of Ethan’s home was more wood, sanded down and polished to minimize splinters, but it was cozy and snug. A perfect place for someone who wants to sleep for the rest of their life. Not that Ethan was doing such a thing. Ethan places a coffee pot in the boiler, and makes his way to a little table where Kallick sits. “How’s the wife?” Kallick asks. Ethan takes a seat replying, “She’s wonderful. Doing well as ever.” Kallick nods, then follows up, “where is she now?” - “Out. Getting food for us. She insists on stockpiling for winters. It does get pretty harsh during winters here, to be fair.” - “Does she go offworld?” - “No, she hunts. All by herself, with nothing but a spear and her fists. But hey, at least it works.” Kallick titters, “That’s Thraegaa.” Ethan chuckles, and responds, “Yep, that’s my wife.” The two of them nod, then Kallick looks around. “And, the kids? Where are they?” Ethan too, looks around after that question. “At the moment? I don’t know. I’m guessing either their room, or the little treehouse they made.” - “They made a treehouse?” - “Yeah. It’s a little farther than I’m comfortable with, but it’s the closest tree to the house, technically. It’s actually pretty close to where you parked your ship.” Kallick nods, and makes a mental note to try and spot that treehouse later.

A small beat of silence, then Kallick opens his mouth to speak. But before he can speak his words, a ding sound from the boiler. “Oop! The water’s done boiling.” Ethan remarks, then stands up to deal with the water. Kallick presses his mouth shut, then nods. What he has to say will have to wait just a moment. Ethan takes out two little cups, and places a tiny net strainer in the bottom of each one, and they clip right into place. Then, Ethan pours the water into each cup. The water quickly, but subtly changes color from clear to a dark bluish color. Ethan grabs a couple of napkins and brings them, along with the tea, over to the table with Kallick. “I would appreciate using that napkin as a coaster, I love this table.” Ethan says, taking a seat. He places a second hand on his tea cup, swishing it around gently to make sure the flavor mixes in properly. He then takes a small sip of his tea. Kallick looks down at his tea cup, a little underwhelmed with his portion size. He takes a modest gulp, but a gulp nonetheless. The heat overwhelms his mouth. And he jerks his head away, “Oh my.” he sputters, “That’s hot!” Ethan laughs a little bit, “You haven’t had tea before, haven’t you?” Ethan asks, as Kallick briskly sets his cup down on the napkin. “Yeah, you’ve got to sip it. It’s not like the drinks we used to have together.” he finishes. Kallick shields his mouth from sight, and sticks his tongue out in hopes to cool it down.

“I’m terribly sorry for that.” Kallick says, half apologetically, half with humorous fun. Ethan waves it off, “Don’t worry about it. Rookie mistakes, and all that.” Kallick sighs, then a beat of Silence. Ethan, after another sip of his tea, asks, “So, why did you come here Kallick?” Kallick leans back, and sighs, looking down at the floor for a moment. He could finally get to his point. Still, he liked having a plain old good time with his friend, while it lasted. He looks back at Ethan, “You remember Koidlaan Vask?” Ethan narrows his eyes, “Yeah. He was one of our supporters during the War for Liberty, right?” Kallick nods, replying, “He was. And now we know why.” He pulls a holographic projector out of his coat, and presses a few buttons. He holds it out, his hand resting on the table, as multiple greenish projections of text and images sprout from the projector.

“The destruction of the Zoxximan Empire left behind a massive power vacuum. A bunch of new factions are popping up, making new governments and orders. But we’re most worried about what our old friend Koidlaan is doing.” Kallick fiddles a bit with the projector, focusing in on a few particular images and texts. The biggest picture, placed in the middle, depicts Koidlaan Vask as he is now; PiercingYellow eyes against red skin, with equally colored tendrils running from his head and chin, giving the illusion of a beard and dreads. From his forehead, Three horns sticking straight upward, protruding from a dark blue headwrap coated in decor of diamonds and gold. On his face, golden markings embroidered onto his skin. His clothes consist of a fancy dark green vest, over a black blouse, the sleeves tucking into a pair of ornate white gloves. His pants too, are dark green, once again tucking into fancy white boots with gold detailing wherever it could fit. Over that, a long, sky blue cloak with a massive V-Shaped collar sticking up. Ethan made an exaggerated grimace, “Eugh, and I thought that guy was insufferable before.”

Kallick continued, “You used to know him as another measly crime boss. But he’s been calling in favors, and now he’s moved beyond crime. He’s a warlord now, with his own military and resource control. Ethan, he has interstellar borders.” Ethan looks at the images of Koidlaan, and thinks about the information given to him. He inhales through his nose, then exhales through the same airway. He finally replies, “And his system of governing has to do with unfair subjugation and abuse of power and control?” Kallick snaps his fingers and points at Ethan, “Nailed it.” Ethan makes a low grumble, he’s clearly annoyed, at best, with Koidlaan. Kallick continues, “With all of his acquired power and the speed of his expanse, we’re afraid he may soon become the biggest threat in the galaxy.” Kallick closes the hologram, stores it, then looks at Ethan. “But I think, if someone, more specifically an army of capable, lawless renegades, could take him on now, we may be able to stop him before he becomes too strong.”

“And that’s why you’re here?” Ethan asks, half rhetorically. Kallick nods, then clarifies, “I’m starting with the bare essentials. Some of the greatest and most accomplished members from the old Liberation Force. A minimalistic army of the best of the best.” Ethan exhales a laugh through his nose, “And you think I’m among them?” This question prompts Kallick to raise an eyebrow, confused. “You’re saying that like you don’t know yourself. Ethan, do you remember the heist on Syndrakk 13? I’m not sure any other pilot could pull off that job like you did!” Ethan smiles, but shakes his head, and Kallick continues, “And whose plan was it to use the enemy mothership’s weapons to turn the tide in the battle of Zxentör Prime? Ethan, that battle won us the war!” Ethan simply smiles, remembering those days he used to have. Then he takes a sip of his tea. Kallick keeps talking, “Point is, you are definitely one of the most accomplished members of the Liberation Force. Ethan, the new Liberation Force could really use a pilot like you. And so could the rest of the galaxy.”

Ethan sighed. It had been a while since he hung out with his friends the way he used to. The celebrations that came with the liberation of a planet. The humorous conversations they would have. The small moments that he had with each of his friends and allies. It was during those times he met his wife… Ethan finally speaks, “I get it. I really do, Kallick.” he sets his tea down on the napkin coaster. “I know you mean well, and we had great times during the War for Liberty. But…” He trailed off, looking into his tea. Kallick leaned closer, “What?” He asked, simply. Ethan sighed softly, “But those roses weren't without their thorns.” It was then that Ethan recalled all the times between the goodness; Boom, Boom, Crash, Pow, Boom, Heart pounding at 100 beats per second. Ships exploding, people dying, bullets, energy blasts, loud sounds everywhere. The constant creeping fear in the center of his brain telling him his life could end abruptly at any given moment. And from that fear, he found adrenaline rolling, blood-pumping, light-hearted, adventurous fun that a man his age always sought.

Kallick scoots closer in his seat, “Ethan, I get it. The War for Liberty was a bloodbath. Who knows how many casualties and fatalities were avoidable. I don’t want to diminish that, but that’s what we had to resort to. That’s why we have to do something about Koidlaan. If we act now, we could avoid another War for Liberty.” - “I know. But-” Ethan couldn’t look anywhere but into his tea. The steam had diminished, it was getting cooler. “I just can’t do that anymore.” Ethan continued. “I might have given you an enthusiastic yes if I was the same person I was back then. But I’m not him anymore. I have a family, I live a wonderful and peaceful life on a far off world. The Galaxy needs help, I know, but… your army can manage without me. Right?” Kallick nodded silently, “I understand.” He replied.

Kallick stands up, reaches into his coat, then pulls out a device, which he places on the table. It’s a long-distance messenger one could use to pre-record a message, and send it to another using covert methods that made the message hard to track or intercept. It was created by an engineer who was part of the Liberation Force, specifically so the Force could communicate without being discovered. This showed clearly, as this Messenger had the same lotus with flame symbol that Kallick had on his ship; the symbol of the Liberty Force. “In case you change your mind.” Kallick says, slowly walking away. Ethan takes a moment to look upon the device, and the symbol on it. After that, he looks back at Kallick, heading for the door, and calls, “Here, I’ll see you out.”

The two of them walk away from the Cabin, closer to Kallick’s ship. “It was nice to see you again, Ethan.” Kallick says, “I might consider coming back here more often. You know, just to talk, or enjoy your planet.” - “Right. Just as long as you aren’t pestering me to join the New Force.” Ethan replies, prompting a chuckle from Kallick. The two of them stop and look over when they hear the sound of something heavy being dragged. From over the hill, they see a massive creature tied to a sled of sorts. One can describe it as a massive wild boar-like creature, the size of an african elephant, with six green eyes, and thick, dark blue hair, save for its mohawk like-mane, consisting of gray hairs, so thick and spiky they could actually hurt someone who dared touch the tips. All of this, being dragged by a wire rope, attached to a harness being worn by none other than Ethan’s wife, Thraegaa.

She stands over eight feet tall, completely black eyes, save for the irises of bright and swirling psychedelic yellow, cyan, pink, and green. From her head, a bony ridge separating her face from the pale, pinkish orange tendrils on her head tied in the back by a scrunchie. Whatever parts of her body are not occupied by coarse, gray shark-like skin, are instead covered with meticulously shaped, organic interlocking plates similar to an insect or a crustacean. All of this, decorated onto an eight foot tall, 3000 pound frame of pure muscle. She doesn't even use her hands as she drags the beast along, relying completely on the strength of her torso and legs as she marches along with two-toed feet. She looks over, notices Kallick with her husband, and stops. “Oh, hello Kallick, my old friend!” she calls to him, waving. “It has been many long years since last we spoke!” Kallick snorted a bit; he still found Thraegaa’s way of talking funny. “Hey Thraegaa!” he replied. “What prompted your return, Kallick?” Thraegaa asked. Kallick started, “Well, I came here because…” he trailed off a bit, looking at Ethan. Ethan shook his head, a cautioning look on his face. Kallick sighed through his nose, “I was feeling a little nostalgic.” he continued, “Just thought I’d visit. But I was just about to leave now.” - “Are you sure? We are about to harvest my kill!” Kallick chuckles nervously, then replies, “No no, I’m good! I should really be leaving now, actually.” he then gives Ethan a pat on the shoulder. “Anyways, nice seeing you.” - “You too.” Ethan replies.

Kallick walks away, and Ethan stays behind, watching him leave. Kallick makes it to his ship, but before he turns it on, he looks around from the cockpit. Ethan notices his gaze is drawn to one particular spot; It’s his children’s treehouse. Then he sits down, and the chrome-looking windshield slides over, covering him. Kallick’s ship powers up, it lifts off, and he flies away. Ethan continues to watch the ship, as it zooms further from the confines of the Atmosphere. Ethan sighs, and thinks about everything that happened. Was he being selfish? What will he tell his wife? He looks over to Thraegaa, and notices she has almost finished dragging the beast behind the cabin. He walks over to join her, it’s almost time to harvest the beast…

#writerblr #wrtiting #space #sci fi #original #original fiction #original story #ch: ethan #ch: Kallick

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redchu12 · 3 years ago

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Jason Todd never went back to Gotham. He instead stayed with the league of assassins and trained under Talia. He becomes proficient in many types of weaponry and martial arts. He also learns to play a lot of instruments, both traditional and more modern ones.

Jason eventually leaves the league and starts to take on solo missions. He runs into Rose and Slade every now and then and they help to spar with him. Slade also helps to teach Jason more international recipes to cook.

After 2 to 4 years of being an assassin, Talia asks Jason for a favor. A challenge has been sent out by a group of villains to assassins from all around the world. Kill Robin and become part of their (the villains) council.

Talia asks for Jason's help because he is independent of the league and can act in ways that they can't. She also asks because this is Damion thar is going to be hunted. Jason accepts and starts packing for Gotham.

Jason has a different outfits. His normal assassin gear is a tight long-sleeved shirts that has an attached mask that reaches up to his nose. He wears a gray with black seams and ascents over shirt, kinda like a kimono top, that has a hood attached to it. He wears black cargo pants that he tapers off at his feet with black tape/cloth. He wears combat boots or parkour sneakers deling on the type of job. He also has gray gloves on. On each thigh he has gun holders for his two hand guns.

If he doesn't care if people see him on a job jason wear the long sleeve shirt but with the mask down and a black with white accents trench coat. The pants and shoes are the same. He wears fingerless white gloves on these missions. On these missions he uses any weaponry besides the type that might connect to his two other personalities. So no pretty sword or custom handguns.

If he ever goes disguised as a league of assassins member he has a black long-sleeved undershirt, a red vest/hooded sleeveless armored jacket with gold siding/accents. Jason also has a darker red belt around his stomach/waist area full of different knives and helps to carry his sword on his back. Along his arms are gray arm gaurds and black gloves. He has black pants with only 3 pocket in them (one on each thigh, and a larger one farther down his thigh near his near on his right side.) He only uses martial arts, knives, and swords in this outfit. He also has a beautiful crimson sword with a dragon decal on the side of the sword.

Jason arrives in Gotham in his normal mission gear and starts taking out the other assassins. He sets up a base, gathers all of the Intel and gear he needs and gets down to work.

Bruce and his legion of bats and birds eventually figure out that their is a third party that is protecting Damion and taking out the assassins in a permanent sense.

I would love to see a bamf Jason who never returned but is still skilled and ready and able to kiss some major a$$.

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cryptidofthekeys · 2 years ago

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Addison OC

I uh remade the sona I once had into a full OC and I like the redo SO much better than the old version like holy shit gkjfld;jkgfds is this a new comfort OC that Imma love and cherish for awhile? It is, it 100% is

anyways meet Purp, Purps, Addy, or Dison- whatever you wanna call him (...I was thinking of an ACTUAL name aside from just nicknames but I literally got NOTHING whatsoever)

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| Name: Purple Addison

| Nicknames: Purp/Purps, Addy, or Dison

| Gender: Trans FTM (He/Him)

| Age: I’d say… Mid 30s to 40s

| Height: 6’3” but technically speaking he has sizeshifting powers, they are just completely out of his control, the limit for shrinking is 5 inches tall, the limit for growing is 100ft

| Species/Race: Addison which- is p obvious I suppose

| Eye Color: Royal Purple

| Hair Color: Light pastel lavender purple (he usually keeps his hair up in a man bun)

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| Fur Color/Body Type: The same as his hair p much lmao (he’s got very plush fur, so soft that if you push your hand on him you’ll sink into him lmao) and he’s fat- Fat, wide, and tall! (he can be a bit insecure about how wide he is though, not being fat- I need to be VERY clear on that, he’s not insecure about his weight it’s just the width- he’s worried he’ll accidentally bump something or someone over)

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| Appearance: His main outfit (I don’t mind the Addisons’ main attire but I wanna do something different for Dison) but it's a sleeveless black turtleneck with a boob window (he has a rather large tuft of fur sticking out and honestly? It’s shaped into a heart thanks to the boob window) he wears a long dark purple trench coat (not leather) but he usually keeps the sleeves on it rolled up to his elbows (he rarely ever buttons the coat either), he wears green pants (not the green ones the actual Addisons wear, it's like a darker green tbh) and then finally he wears some simple black slip on shoes.

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He doesn’t have claws (it’d be really hard to make miniatures if he did) but he does have fangs, both on top and bottom- (god I hate describing his head shape bc the Addisons are all so… weirdly shaped jkgljfgdls) Imma just leave it as Octagon shaped so yeah, its wide n big enough to fit tbh- he doesn’t have a beard as he’s just got plush fur all over, he has a pointed nose like all the other Addisons, and the only other detail I can think to add is literally just his top surgery scars (the only scars he’s got actually)

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| Personality: Dison is literally super sweet, kind, polite, caring, and loving as can be- He isn’t like the other Addisons in a lot of ways tbh, seeing as he won’t just try to push his products and sell them all the time like he’ll ACTUALLY have a decent conversation with you, now don’t get him wrong he DOES still advertise his miniatures, he IS still an Addison …Or well he thinks he is? …H…He’s not sure what else he could be? He’s shaped like them n shit like that-

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He does get disappointed if you show no interest in his crafts but he’ll accept it and move on, he won’t try to push or force you into anything like that, after all you must have no need or no place to put something like these, he knows it’s… Very different from the other Addisons- but it’s something he’s actually passionate about and he figures if he’s going to advertise something he wants to actually like doing it and have fun.

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He’s kinda like a dad friend tbh, he’s very caring and can be concerned about others, whether it be Darkners or Lightners, he’ll make sure you’re doing okay and if you need to talk about something then come to him, he’ll help out in anyway he can- (if someone’s bothering you? Go ahead, tell him, he’ll sort it out) …Not with violence I should say, he HATES violence, honestly terrified because he can’t fight to save his life so he wouldn’t be very good in a situation like that (he’s a true pacifist, prefers to talk his way out of situations) …BUT… If he’s pushed to his breaking point he’s not just gonna let himself or the others he cares about die ya know?

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Is the type if he joins your adventures, like I said- VERY much a dad friend, brings plenty of healing items, definitely carries snacks in a lil fanny pack and mm various other items tbh (probs a good amount of comfort items like plushies, blankets, stress toys, etc) he literally just wants to make sure you’re alright in the end.

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Despite not knowing how to truly fight and sucking ass at it, he is actually fairly strong! …Which is why 1: He has to be extra careful when making his miniatures (has broken a l o t in the past with carelessness) and then 2: He gives BIG bear hugs, like he’ll wrap his arms fully around you and then just kinda twist side to side (you will be enveloped with the plush fur …just don’t sink too far) …He’d be devastated if he actually crushed someone with a hug and never forgive himself.

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Due to his size already in more ways than one, other Darkners are often intimidated by him and he absolutely hates it, the only time he actually loves being intimidating is when it comes to protecting those he cares about (he can be very overprotective)

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Despite asking and making sure everyone else is okay n shit like that, he’s… Not very good at that himself, making sure HE’S okay, he’s got dark circles under his eyes (he stays up too late sometimes working on miniatures and mm for... OTHER reasons...) he’s definitely got his anxieties and fears and VERY MUCH unlike the other Addisons he won’t deny, he does have a bit of social anxiety and he can be kinda awkward …But he tries to be as nice and polite as he can!

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| Side Facts: Alright I’ve mentioned the others SOOO very much, I have to state something- …Purps actually has no fucking clue what the other Addisons are like LMAO, he’s never personally met them, just saw them selling things and going about their business in the city but he’s never met them personally, honestly? Despite them probs thinking he’s intimidating bc of his size, he’s actually more intimidated of them than they are of him.

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Addy has no clue what the other Addisons are like but he has seen the products they sell…

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They sell much more… Normal things than he has so he wonders if he’s being too particular about this, he does want to fit in so badly, even though he’s never actually properly interacted with the other Addisons, he wants to be like them, he wants to fit in because if he’s NOT like them …Then is he just… a defective Addison? …He sometimes worries about that, that he’s not doing what he should be doing, that he’s going too far outside of the box by making minis and selling them.

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Sometimes he wonders if he should just give that up and sell something a bit more, in the norm… And even start being more advertise-y …and pushing his products more, etc- It seems like they all do that from what he’s seen anyways, he worries about that a lot because he really would like to properly meet them one day, but he’s worried they’ll see him as just merely some kinda glitch or flaw of an Addison because of what he sells AND the fact he’s not as pushy or anything with his products.

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And not even to MENTION the whole size shifting problem, that’s caused him to lose business before multiple times and still continues to do so as well, that’s also why he’s afraid to meet the Addisons bc if they see that well then it just proves that he really is a glitch, a flaw so to speak- …And plus another thing, being suddenly overwhelmingly tiny? Around now a giant place and giant people? …Not fun and even when he’s the one that’s giant? ABSOLUTELY NOT FUN- It’s just completely distressing and he literally freezes in place until the size shifting ability decides to fuck off.

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…I uh haven’t got the situation fully planned out as to why he does that but I’ll have something later on gfjkldkfgdf;s that’s not the main focus anyways- just,, trust the process- Likewise, all my ocs/sonas have the very tiny fine print that you need to zoom in to read! All things are subject to change in the long run (mostly that goes for personality wise and anything in the side facts, not really description wise)

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The one Addison he thought was strange was that one little guy, he was a White Addison and well, Purp hadn’t really seen him before- it’s like he just kinda appeared one day …Or maybe he just didn’t come out that much, either way, likewise- he didn’t know him personally but he knew that very same Addison went onto become the biggest name in all of Cyber City, his name was… Spamton, yeah- that’s it- It’s hard to NOT know about that guy, even now with him… Well, gone pretty much-

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He used to see commercials, ads obviously, etc all the t i m e about this dude, he just suddenly blew up one day it seemed- …While Dison never interacted with him (not in pre-big shot era or actua big shot era) he was happy for the lil fella nonetheless …He did notice the other Addisons seemed tense during that time period and even now, even though he still doesn’t know them personally and hasn’t interacted with him, there’s a certain energy, a certain… Tense aura in the air still surrounding those remaining four.

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…Bc I can say so, imma be honest- literally the most intimidating Addison of all the ones for Dison would be Pink, hands down- I can say that with confidence bc well, I mean he IS my OC- ...Also bc for reasons I won’t be explaining, I think it’s funny as hell that Pink would be the most intimidating for him.

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Lmao the Pink one would scare him the most. But ahem- aside from all that, back to the size shifting ability- if Dison could control it? He would actually fucking LOVE it! He did always wonder what it’d be like to actually be, well, miniature (way more so than a giant, he does not like being a giant period, his width and height already makes him nervous, he always feels like he’s one step closer to hurting someone)

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…He supposes even though he CAN’T control it, when he does become tiny or giant, the ONE singular pro of the both of them together is that it gives him s o much more perspective than what he once had, which definitely caused an increase in quality in his miniature sets.

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(btw I should say I do actually know how he’d feel/what he’d think of all the Addisons, plus Spamton, both pre-big shot and big shot era …And even n o w, I got that in my head) but the final bits I can think to add is just, when he’s not working on miniatures, he likes to relax with some calming music (most of it is instrumental music imma be honest) and or just go for a nice walk …Even though the City can kinda be a pain in the- …ahem- anyways, he has a deep voice + a southern accent (despite being in a city, sh-shut up, just let him have this) but is usually soft spoken (never raises nor wants to raise his voice) and finally…

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Dison is Pansexual and Polyamorous.

#deltarune oc #deltarune #deltarune addisons #deltarune addison oc #i fucking hate describing the head shape but I want him to have a funky lookin head shape like the others #so just- o C T A G O N-#oc #original character #i gave him a bit more... Depth if you will #and redid some of the way I phrased or said things #...also yeah yeah- I love large characters ..a l o t- large n tall

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raspberry-rampage · 3 years ago

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THE CONTINUATION OF AN (UNNECESSARY?) ANALYSIS OF FEMALE COSTUMES IN MY HERO ACADEMIA, THIS TIME FOR VILLAINS

aka I still think Horikoshi’s go-to when designing female characters and their costumes is to focus on their physical attractiveness and not their costumes’ functionality or practicality;

post about female hero costumes here

Since the number of female villains is laughably small, and their screen/panel-time and contribution to the story is even more laughably small, I can describe each one in detail. Not including Vigilantes or movie villains. So let’s go through each of them:

Himiko Toga

• wears a sailor uniform: shirt, dark skirt which is mid-thigh (in latest chapters it seems shorter though, barely covering her butt), on top a baggy sweater with a scarf, also socks below her knees and standard loafers; she gets a mask and a machine on her back, as well as a belt with pouches and knife-holders on her thighs;

• for winter, she gets a coat but her thighs are still exposed, although her socks end mid-thigh now; also a muffler/scarf;

• she also often appears naked, so there’s that;

La Brava

• big bow on her neck, dark shirt, corset belt?, big gloves, poofy pants, knee-high boots on heels (if it weren’t for the heels, I’d have no complaints);

Curious

• long dress from light material that can get tight at times, round cleavage; belt that serves no function; jacket with fur collar; wears wedges (they suck too, see Jill Bearup’s videos);

Lady Nagant

• a curious case, a former hero whose costume was on one panel, so we can look at that too!

• current: tight, sleeveless turtleneck, corset belt (again?!), mid-shin? loose skirt (which can expose her legs when we need fanservice!), boots;

• hero: tight, sleeveless turtleneck, neck and boob braces?, corset? belt for ammo, baggy pants, knee guards, boots;

I’ll also include female Nomu, there’s only one and doesn’t even get a proper name, just... Woman. I’m speechless. Anyway, all Nomu are pretty much naked, so her big boobs are just wobbling around. Yup. Seems like someone needs to check out how boobs of muscular women look like.

Additionally: When Toga got injured in her fight with Curious, I really hoped she would keep the eyepatch, it made her look badass and maybe would introduce consequences for her quirk... but she’s too cute to have scars, I guess.

Now, I should’ve taken a look at how male villains’ wardrobes appear in comparison, right? But honestly, I don’t feel like it, it’s too much work. Like really, there are so many named male villains and pretty much most of their clothes can be summed up with either elegant and classic or baggy and loose.

There are exceptions. Dabi’s outfit is probably the most exposing because of his loose t-shirt/tank-top with a deep neckline that can rise up pretty high (nice), in latest chapters most of his clothes are burning away so he’s showing off quite a lot (nice). Twice wears a skin-tight suit, I guess. Well, there’s also Gigantomachia in all his naked glory. Some guys wear skin-tight tank-tops or run around shirtless.

Yet I never get the same feeling with male villains as the one when I see female villains. I’m not sure if it’s the costumes or the way they’re drawn (the poses, panelling, a lot of aspects) but it’s probably a combination of both. I still think that if I were to actually count and see the percentage then the results would be the same as those from the hero costumes comparison. Females should be sexy or cute, no need for the practical or cool elements, while males should wear comfortable and loose baggy material with occassional armour.

Conclusion: Horikoshi’s still a thigh guy, wearing a corset-belt raises your chances of being a villain, only Lady Nagant knows what to wear to a battlefield shoe-wise (loafers are better than heels or wedges, but imo still suck). Overall, no armour (who needs it, right? Lady Nagant gets some lame braces though), and not much from the ever present in male costumes baggy bullshit. All of them are quite curvy and their outfits/costumes focus on accentuating their boobs or thighs.

Therefore, my point still stands. His costume designs are still sexist.

#riv rants #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha #mha meta #bnha meta #analysis #how funny that I've written this like half a year ago but nothing has changed and it even got worse #with Toga's skirt riding up a lot in latest chapters #and her fight becoming a cat fight with Ochaco over Izuku #you can argue with me on that but basically that's it #sighhhhh #this is open for discussion btw

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iturbide · 3 years ago

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Ah, Bylass facts in this tumblr today,,, I agree with everything you said in regards to F!Byleth’s armor! (And also Corrin/Robin, but even then neither of them are as bad as F!Byleth! It’s… actually kinda ridiculously how big the difference is between Male and Female Byleth??)

Hopefully the next FE game with an avatar character won’t do the whole sexualizing the female avatar thing.

At least for me, it isn’t even that the character is sexualized! That can be part of a character’s Thing! Certain characters - like Dorothea, I personally thought altho ik not everyone agrees, which is fine! - even do it tastefully. It’s when you have a counterpart of the opposite gender and there’s a… Very clear discrepancy lol, that annoys me to not no end.

Oh, absolutely: Robin was fine up until the Grandmaster, Corrin was bad but not egregious since it was just one alteration (though it was a very sexualizing one), but Bylass is just a whole other issue because they changed practically everything about her attire compared to her Bylad.

And because I'm feeling pedantic I'm going to list them.

They have roughly seven aspects in common, and they're all fairly minor:

The boots

The one knee guard*

The dagger

The shoulder armor

The coat

The vambraces*

The medallion*

While the list of differences is somewhat shorter, when the execution is taken into account it gets insane:

Bylad has pants; Bylass has patterned fishnet leggings (in concert with the aforementioned knee guard, that amounts to having metal in direct contact with bare skin, which is bad)

Related to the above, Bylad also has a medieval tunic long enough to cover his upper legs; Bylass has the shortest of short shorts and no cover at all, giving her limited to absent protection since it's very clear where her clothing ends and she begins.

Bylad has armor around his waist and stomach where his medallion attaches; Bylass has her midriff exposed by her armor that only protects her sides and upper abdomen (also, the fact that her midriff is exposed skin makes it seem like her top isn't long enough, either -- again, metal in contact with bare skin is bad)

Bylad has basically a medieval tunic that ends above knee length; Bylass has a tight-fitted sleeveless top with a low neckline and a train below knee length (that is a tripping hazard and generally a terrible idea for combat attire)

Related to the above, Bylad's tunic has long sleeves extending to at least mid-forearm (it's impossible to gauge the exact length because of the armor) and gloves; Bylass has no sleeves at all and no gloves meaning her vambraces are on bare skin (which I've covered a few times already -- it's bad)

Bylad has an armored collar that protects his shoulders, throat, and the upper portions of his back and chest; Bylass has what appears to be a cloth collar where her medallion attaches that does not extend far enough down to protect her upper chest (and while for once I don't have to bring up the armor on bare skin, I have to bring up that you can still see skin below her collar and above the neckline of her shirt, so she has no protection whatsoever aside from the medallion that would rest around her sternum -- but it's unfixed, meaning it can swing around and therefore provides no reliable defense)

That's. That's a bad list there, especially since we know from the intro of the story that regardless of gender Byleth is a mercenary. Bylass' outfit would provide minimal to no protection in combat, meaning she's either the absolute best of the best who never gets hurt ever (and we know that's not true since she almost died in the Prologue trying to protect Edelgard from Kostas) or she doesn't fight much at all. Which means she's not really a mercenary. And that does a disservice to her character.

Because I think you're right: characters can be sexualized in such a way that doesn't feel gross, especially when it's specifically addressed. I agree with you that Dorothea is much more sexualized than any of the other female characters in the game, and it even starts in the Academy Phase: her uniform is stylistically in line with the Garreg Mach standard (the black, white, and gold colors, skirt, boots, etc), but she is the only named female student with such a low-cut blouse on display: all the other girls have either shirts with high necklines/collars or wear a closed jacket with a high collar -- but Dorothea specifically keeps her jacket open to show off her chest.

And the thing is that it makes sense for her character, since her own stated goal is that she's looking to find a rich husband so that she doesn't have to worry about going back to the streets. She knows that her body is an asset in this regard, since she's looking for security more than love, so she uses it to the absolute best of her ability. She's a singer in the Academy Phase, a mage in the War Phase, so she's not going to want or need lots of heavy armor, and her designs overall make sense (though I do call foul on the way her post-timeskip dress is cut in the back, that is nonsensically insane and also please stop making women wear metal in contact with skin, that armor bodice just looks so uncomfortable). So all of that in context is reasonable for her as a character.

The difference between Bylad and Bylass is not reasonable. Not when they have the same canonical history and profession. Not when they're both supposed to be adept fighters who have earned the moniker of Ashen Demon for themselves. What they did to Bylass is just gross to me and I will never stop being bitter about it.

#answered #anonymous #fire emblem: three houses #salty like the sea #intsys makes me so mad with how they handled bylass #she deserves better #i feel kind of bad that i just can't play her #because i can't stand how they decided to dress her #all of my runs have been with bylad #i just need to see the sensible outfit in battle okay

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gothamsforgottenchildren · 3 years ago

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The Forgotten Children Chapter 3

Zack

“Okay I get why you need to be here, but why did I have to come tonight?” Leigh Ann asks. She is tugging at the collar of her turtleneck like it is too tight or is uncomfortable. It’s a dark red sleeveless, turtleneck top, with built-in armor and has gold accents. It’s paired with a gladiator skirt, boots, and forearm guards. It’s a good thing we don’t have to worry about her getting cold.

I roll my eyes at the radiant girl. She’s been messing with her outfit since she put it on. That’s what she gets for wearing her new suit for the first time in the field.

“You’re here as backup so no one tries anything. Also, stop messing with that, you’re gonna stretch it out,” I say.

She groans, throwing her arm dramatically on the ground, “Do you honestly think anyone will show?”

I shrug, “It’s Gotham.”

She snorts, but nods. This causes her long brown hair to fall into her face. To anyone else, it would cause her features to be lost in a shadow, but for me, I can easily see the grin on her lips, and the fire in her dark brown eyes. Leigh Ann has always been easy to read if you can see her eyes. The light within them is currently dancing like flames in a bonfire, playful.

“Whatcha lookin at?” she asks me, pulling her hair up into a slick high ponytail.

“Just you,” I say. I know she won’t take it the wrong way. We’ve known each other too long for that to happen.

She shakes her head at me, “I love you but you’re a psychoanalyzing dork.”

She isn’t wrong, so I can’t really say anything. We sit in silence for a while, I’m just enjoying the warmth of her company. When I hear something from in the distance. It was footsteps, lots of them. “We’ve got company,” I warn her, standing up and moving into position.

I watch as she climbs off the roof of one of our warehouses by the sea pier in the Amusement Mile. She may not be as fluid as Kat, but she knows what she’s doing. By the time Penguin’s thugs show up, she’s waiting for them and I’m hidden in the shadows.

The Penguin not long ago was injured badly by the Red Hood, and ever since then, his gang has been wreaking havoc on everyone. They have no boss giving them orders, so they’ve turned into essentially a gang of anarchists. The main problem with that is they seem to think that we’re low enough on the totem pole to be a victim of their riots.

When they see Leigh Ann or as they know her, The Devil’s Flame, I see mixed reactions throughout the group. Some of them are scared, some notice that she’s by herself and gets excited, and some are angry. Ignatius Ogilvy steps to the front, he’s Penguin’s right hand within the gang.

He’s a white man with blonde hair. He’s dressed well for a guy who’s supposedly going to get his hands dirty. Honestly, I believe that he’s the boss who sits there and does nothing while his underlings do all the work. It’s going to get him killed one of these days.

I cock my head to focus my hearing on his heartbeat. It’s elevated. I can smell the fear rolling off of him. He’s nervous around Leigh Ann. Good, he should be.

She stands her ground. Her body is open and in a relaxed stance, but one she could quickly fight in. To be fair though, she doesn’t really have to move much to hurt people.

“This warehouse is under the protection of the Second Borns, you need to leave,” Leigh Ann says. She is looking Ignatius dead in the eye, waiting for his move.

I hear his heart rate spike as he debates what he is going to do. He lifts both hands in the air in the classic “I surrender” pose, but then he tilts his head, dropping his hands and shrugs. “It’s dangerous for a beautiful lady like yourself to be all alone in Gotham at night,” he says.

“I can handle myself just fine,” she says.

“We’ll see about that,” he says, before pointing a finger at her, yelling, “Get her!” Then I watch as all of his men storm at Leigh Ann or should I call her the Devil’s Flame because that’s who she truly is in moments like this. She is no longer the girl I know with kind eyes that have a dancing flame, she is now a roaring forest fire that only wants to burn everything in its path. Her entire body becomes alight. Her onyx-colored eyes are engulfed in flames along with the rest of her body. She is the human embodiment of destruction and she does it all with a smile on her face. I have to look away because looking at her is like staring at the sun, which is too much for my sensitive eyes. I hear the screams though. I’m sent here to protect her, as backup, but I’m rarely needed.

I make myself busy by watching the skyline. The entire area around me is illuminated by her power. It makes it harder for me to hide, but it also makes it harder for others. I notice movement in a window a ways away from us, in a building that should be abandoned. There’s a sniper in that room taking aim at Leigh Ann. Or at least trying to. It’s hard to aim at something so bright, I bet they didn’t think it was going to be here in charge of watching the docs. It’s normally just me. We’re currently trying to claim them for ourselves.

I take off anyway though. With one leap from the ground, I unfurl my wings, pushing them down to gain height from the ground. Now even though I am flying I still try to stick to the shadows the best I can. If they try to shoot at Leigh Ann, they will most likely miss or the bullet will melt because of the heat. If they shoot at me, I can be shot out of the air, which sucks.

Flying is one of my favorite things, even if I don’t like how sore it leaves me after. I love the feeling of the wind flowing through my hair. I purposefully keep my brown hair longer than I should because it makes the sensation so much better.

I get to the spot where I can quickly fly across and take the person out. I fly across to the window, left to where they are. I move so quietly that they don’t notice me. I open the window and slip in. The room is empty and dark. I can see a door on the right wall, joining the two rooms. Once I finish picking the lock, I open the door to see an older man’s back facing me. He is a white man in his late forties. He isn’t anyone important, no one I need to think twice about before crossing, or killing. I walk across the room, silent. When I finally get to the other side, where I stand right behind him. I clear my throat. I wish I can see his face, but his back is to me. Before he can even turn around, I’m grabbing his head in my hands and snapping his neck.

I let his body drop to the ground, grabbing his gun and unloading it. Then I step over his body and climb out the window he had shot out of.

I take off again, this time flying towards Leigh Ann. I can tell that she’s finished most of them off, or at least scared them off. Leigh Ann typically tries to maim instead of kill. I swoop down to one of the men trying to escape, grab his head, and twist it while flying up. Once I’m twenty feet in the air I drop his body on a woman trying to run away as well. I look up in Leigh Ann’s direction, her bright flames are starting to dim, as she’s powering down.

I land next to her, just as the last few disappear into the shadows that are Gotham City. She is grinning when she turns to me. She’s upset about something though, judging by the dampened light in her eyes. It looks like a fire out in the rain; fighting to stay alight against the force of the cold attacking it.

“What’s wrong?” I ask her. It isn’t right for someone as radiant as her to be so dim.

Her grin slips for a second, “It’s nothing important, I’ll talk to you about it when we’re somewhere secure. We need to leave because this fire show is likely to attract unwanted attention,” she whispers. She knows I can always hear her.

With that, we start our walk home. I feel the ache in my shoulders and back start. I should take a long hot bath when I get home. I must be walking weirdly because Leigh Ann wraps her arm under the coat concealing my wings, applying warm heat, soothing my sore muscles. I wrap my arm over her shoulder, and she leans her head against my side as we walk.

“Does that help at all?” she asks.

“Yes,” I say, trying not to shudder. Apparently, I don’t succeed, because she chuckles when I do. “We need to stop and let you change though, or at least throw on a coat. You’re too noticeable in that outfit,” I tell her.

“Okay Dad,” she says, pulling apart from me, and reaching into the garbage bin where we stored her clothes earlier and sliding on a pair of black pants, a red turtleneck, and a dark brown mini trench-coat.

We walk along in silence for a while, just trying to blend in. We have to make sure no one is following us back to our home. I decide that it was safe to start the descent home, when I hear a sound, my knees buckle and I fall, clutching my head. I vaguely catch Leigh Ann’s scared expression out of the corner of my eye before I blackout.

I wake up to warm hands and silence. I’m now in an alley with sound-canceling headphones on. My head is laying in Leigh Ann’s lap, her hands combing through my hair. I reach up towards the dial that controls how soundproof the headphones are, and turn them down slightly. I can still hear the noise, but it’s manageable now.

I look around, taking in my surroundings. There are brick walls on either side of me, Gotham’s starless night sky is overhead. It’s as dull and lifeless as always. There is too much pollution in Gotham to see stars. The weirdest part is the fire escapes. They are the kind installed in residential areas.

“In an alley. We’re just a couple blocks over from where we were,” Leigh Ann said.

I look at her in a panic. Why would she bring us to a random ally in Gotham if one of us is down?

“Don’t give me that look, we’re totally safe,” Leigh Ann said, rolling her eyes at my paranoia, “This area of Gotham is relatively safe. Plus, you’re super heavy.”

I pull myself out of her lap and lean against the brick wall, shuddering from the sudden lack of warmth. I lean my head back, looking up, trying to piece together what happened. I remember the sound. Knowing that the headphones are probably blocking out the noise, I turn the dial down. Then I hear it. It is a high-pitch ringing. It’s super familiar.

My eyes widen, “We have to go! The sound it’s someone’s emergency beacon.”

I watch Leigh Ann’s head whip towards me, causing her ponytail to hit her in the face. She ignores it. She whips her phone out of her pocket. I watch as she presses the first number on her emergency contact list. Riddle.

I know because my phone’s set up the same way. All our phones are programmed to have him listed as our first contact on our emergency contact list.

“Riddle? We have a problem,” Leigh Ann says into the phone, getting up to pace the ally.

I can’t hear his side of the conversation because of my headphones. I’d be willing to bet his response was a shortcut, “What?”.

“Someone’s emergency beacon has been activated,” says Leigh Ann. She stops pacing, tilting her head to the side, and furrowing her eyebrows in the way she does when she’s really trying to pay attention to what someone is saying. This is until her eyes widen, the flames in them sparking for a second. She pulls the phone from her face saying, “Of course you knew this already.” She then turns to me looking exasperated. “Who told you?” she asks, before exclaiming, “Robert!”

I roll my eyes at her. It’s not a hard puzzle to figure out. Robert very rarely leaves the house, and when he does, Riddle’s normally with him.

“Ask Riddle what he wants us to do,” I tell her.

I watch as she asks Riddle my question. She makes that face again, before pulling her phone away and quickly shoving it in her coat pocket. “He wants you to find whoever's triggered the alarm. Once you do make sure it’s safe to enter before you engage. He explicitly told me to tell you not to throw yourself in danger if it can be avoided.”

I stand up, nodding, “Am I taking you with me, or leaving you behind?”

“Behind for now. Once you get intel on the situation, your orders are to engage only if necessary and then call in using our phones to get more orders,” she says quickly. She is clearly upset but trying to stay focused. Unfortunately, I don’t have time to stop and console her, but I know that I don’t. I have to go.

Leigh Ann is caught up in her thoughts. She’s looking towards the mouth of the ally. I take off my jacket, wad it up, and chuck it at her. I listen to her shriek in surprise, before jumping up to take off into the air.

Before I even got to the building I could smell the blood. I know it’s Kat’s. His blood smells different than everyone else's because of his mutation.

“Shit Kat,” I whisper when I land on the neighboring building, “What did you do?”

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igirisuhito · 4 years ago

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Title: Live for the Night Relationship(s): Komaeda Nagito/Hinata Hajime Rating: Explicit Summary: Hinata has been single for quite a long time. Wingman Souda seeks to change that by bringing him to his favourite nightclub and introducing him to his rave buddies. Hinata, however, has eyes for much less favourable company. Based on @devilcouldweep‘s Rave AU Trigger Warnings: Recreational drug use, alcohol, sex under the influence, Mentions of drug overdose, discussions of stabbings, Public sex. Disclaimer: Other old fic with some stuff I’m embarrassed about. Quality is lower.

[Ao3 Link]

♫♪.ılılıll|̲̅̅●̲̅̅|̲̅̅=̲̅̅|̲̅̅●̲̅̅|llılılı.♫♪

"Souda…I look like a twink."

Hinata stared at himself in the mirror, reflecting on how long it had taken him to wrangle those fishnets that now clung to his chest and three quarters of the way down his arms. The elastic around his neck rubbed uncomfortably against his adam’s apple and every now and then the netting would catch on his nipples. The stockings had been much worse to put on, but weren’t uncomfortable in the same way the top was.

Over the fishnet top was a white crop top he had borrowed from Souda that sported a neon sunset and the words ‘Jabberwock.’ He recalled thinking ‘What the fuck is a Jabberwock?’ whilst slipping it on. To cover the fishnets on his lower half he wore a pair of ripped skinny jeans, less ripped and more gutted than anything. And to top it all off were these white platform sneakers he’d bought because they were ‘cool’ way before he realised they were platforms. Oh well, it’s not like he couldn’t use a few extra inches.

Hinata crossed his arms over his midsection, a pathetic attempt to hide the exposed skin. Souda simply laughed, joining his soul friend's side and slinging an arm over his shoulder. "That's the point man! We gotta reel you in some dick somehow!"

Hinata groaned as the boy cackled, threading his fingers under the fishnets adorning his hips. This was the first time he'd worn something like this, and no amount of shitty vodka cruisers were making him feel less insecure.

Souda himself was wearing these baggy pants with reflective stripes and numerous pockets and a pair of those popular light up shoes, the ones that change colour with every step. On the top half he wore a studded white leather harness that settled snugly just below his pecs and a sleeveless hoodie to make him look almost modest. His hair was it’s usual dyed neon pink and spiked as if he intended to use it as a weapon.

“Souda...you know I give more than I take, right?” Hinata muttered, almost offended that his ever-so-supportive friend had just assumed he was a bottom.

“Well lately you haven’t been doing either!” Souda grabbed his shoulders with both hands, practically shaking the poor boy. “C’mon man you look sooo good! If I was gay I’d fuck you!”

Hinata rolled his eyes. “I’ve never met a straight man who’d wear a harness.”

“Uh, what about, literally every dog ever?”

“You’re not a dog.”

“Whatever! Let’s just go!”

Hinata snorted. It seemed entertaining Souda in his shitty attempts to get him a boyfriend was going to pay off. “Yeah, okay.”

“Yeah!” Souda cheered, pumping his right fist in the air and slapping Hinata’s ass with his left hand simultaneously. He couldn’t even be embarrassed, not when it was from So-not-gay Souda.

The duo took a cab to their destination, despite Souda insisting that they should walk to save money. Hinata would pay anything to not be seen outside in this. Especially not by somebody he knew. They were headed to a rave club in a less favourable part of town, one Souda insisted ‘wasn’t as bad as it seems!’ It was definitely as bad as it seems, like, there had been 3 stabbings in that club. Twice it had been the same fucking guy, and Hinata wasn’t sure if he should chalk that up to bad luck or blatant idiocy. Who would go to a club where they had already been stabbed once, just to get stabbed again?

Souda seemed to notice that Hinata’s thoughts were quickly going in a poor direction, so he decided to distract him with idle chatter. “I think you’ll like some of my friends there.”

Hinata turned to the boy sitting to his left, wearing a rather curious expression. “You have friends?”

“Shut up, you’re awful!” Souda whined, trying to sound mad but failing miserably. “Anyway, there’s this guy named Tanaka, he works at a zoo, how fucking cool is that?! Though he refers to himself as ‘The Supreme Overlord of Ice.’ I think it’s meant to be some kind of stage name or something?”

Stage name? What fucking stage is he working on at a zoo?

“Sounds like quite the character, huh.” Hinata murmured.

“You’ll get it when you meet him!” Souda beamed, glancing out the window. “Oh hey, we're almost there!”

The nervousness Hinata was feeling finally overtook the embarrassment. Souda gave him a reassuring tap on the shoulder as the taxi pulled up outside of the club. He could already hear the muffled music blaring from inside.

Hinata paid the driver and the two of them stepped out. The first thing they noticed was how fucking cold that breeze was, espeically when neither of them had proper sleeves. They both rushed towards the entrance, the bouncer barely looking at them before allowing them in. Hinata added that to the list of 'things that make this place sketchy.'

Nothing could have prepared him for the absolute assault on his senses that occured the second he entered the building. Loud music with heavy bass blared throughout the venue, drowning out the sound of Souda excitedly chattering next to him. The air reeked of sweat, booze, and artificial smoke. The strobe lights dancing around the place were quite dizzying, something that forced Hinata to look down to avoid the nausea. Oh, his shirt is glowing, they must be using blue light.

Hinata took a moment to admire the neon on his shirt, beginning to understand exactly why Souda had lent him this one in particular. It looked much less tacky and actually kind of cool under the bright lights.

“Oi, Hinata!”

A voice close to his ear startled him. He jumped back, sighing with relief once he realised it was only Souda. He too was glowing under the nights, his neon pink hair shining like a beacon and the leather harness glowed a soft shade of blue. It was really aesthetically pleasing.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Hinata spoke loudly, trying to make himself heard above the music.

“I’m gonna go find Tanaka and Mioda, you wanna get started at the bar?”

“Yeah, alright.”

And in the blink of an eye Souda was gone. Hinata sighed, disappointed but not surprised that his friend had run off almost immediately. He stepped out onto the dancefloor, shoving his way through the numerous bustling bodies and making his way towards the glowing neon lights of the bar.

He finally made it out, breathing a sigh of relief as he leant his elbows onto the scarred wood of the bar. If the amount of people wasn’t already overwhelming, the atmosphere just strangled the breath from him. It felt as if eyes were boring into him from all directions, judging, enticing. Hinata shook off the feeling, drawing it up to just nerves and the sensation of his exposed skin.

“Can I get you anything?” A voice snapped him from his thoughts, Hinata looked up, seeing the bartender staring him down like an unwanted guest.

He swallowed the nervous lump in his throat. “U-um, yeah...could I get a shot of Smirnoffs?

The bartender nodded and grabbed a bottle from under the bar. She carefully poured him a shot of the cheap vodka, sliding it towards him before wandering off to serve other customers. She was quite a busty lady, definitely put in this kind of place as a means of encouraging more people to buy more overpriced liquor. She sounded cheery as she sparked up conversations with clubgoers, but Hinata could see those dark bags under her eyes, the way her smile dimmed as she listened to them. It was quite obvious she hated her job and was well aware that she was being exploited.

Hinata lifted the small glass to his lips, downing the shot quickly before setting the glass back down on the counter. He sighed off the burn and turned around, scanning the crowd to see if he could find Souda.

Instead of Souda, Hinata found his eye being caught by the boy to his left who was also leaning against the bar. He hadn’t been there a moment before, but Hinata was immediately intrigued by his glowing blue hair and odd getup, one not so different from his own.

His hair was a gravity defying mess, with the blue glow it reminded Hinata a bit of cotton candy. His chest was clad in a cropped fishnet quite similar to his own, though his arms were covered by a dark coloured coat decorated with glowing blue squares on the right shoulder. There was a pair of green and pink glow sticks fixed to his left sleeve just above the elbow, similar to how a student council member wore a red armband. Perhaps it symbolised something in a similar way?

Below his exposed waist was a pair of low riding jeans that were a bit lighter in colour, but not light enough to pick up the blue light. His belt was, however, along with the cuffs of his jeans resting just below the knee above his boots. Speaking of the boots, they were...eccentric. They were sharp with a pointed toe and a slight heel and somehow made Hinata feel a little less insecure about his own choice in dangerous footwear.

The boy must have noticed Hinata’s gawking because as his eyes wandered back up he found that stare being returned. His breath caught in his throat as he tried to mutter out an apology. The boy interrupted him before he could get it out, however.

“You’re new.” He smiled, leaning in close to make sure his voice was heard. “What’s your name?”

Hinata forced his hands into his pockets, trying to look as casual as possible as if he hadn’t been ogling the boy just a moment ago. “Hinata Hajime.”

“Hinata Hajime…” Komaeda practically rolled the words around on his tongue. “May I call you Hinata-kun?”

“Sure. What about you, what’s your name?” Hinata narrowed his eyes, feeling a bit frustrated that the alcohol wasn’t taking the edge off his anxiety.

“Ah, how rude of me. My name is Komaeda Nagito, you can call me whatever you please.” Komaeda smiled widely, as if exchanging names was further than he expected to get. “What brings you to Hope’s Summit?”

“Eh, I was peer pressured into coming by a friend.” Hinata muttered, a little embarrassed now that he had to explain his presence to a stranger. “I don’t usually come to places like this…”

Komaeda pursed his lips together, bringing his hand to his chin. “Hm, that makes sense. I’m quite the regular here, but mostly because I-”

“OI! HINATA!!”

Hinata snapped around, not listening to the end of Komaeda’s sentence. Souda was waving from the crowd, quickly approaching him with two other people trailing behind him.

“Oh, how awkward. I’m gonna head off. I hope to see you again, Hinata-kun.” Komaeda spoke softly, but just loud enough for only Hinata to hear.

Hinata turned back around to farewell Komaeda but he was already gone, likely he had already slipped into the crowd. He sighed, bringing his full attention back to the excited boy in front of him.

“Mioda, Tanaka, this is Hinata, my soul friend! Hinata, this is Mioda and Tanaka, my rave friends!” Souda beamed, hopping up and down and gesturing wildly.

“Hajime-chan!” A girl with black hair dyed with colourful streaks that had been styled up into horns practically squealed upon seeing Hinata, instantly rushing up to him and throwing her arms around the confused boy. “Kazuichi-chan never shuts up about you! So, are you into moshing? Raving? OOOOH you HAVE to listen to my songs!!”

The scene girl stared at Hinata with wide eyes that practically sparkled in the dark. He took a small step, only to bump straight into the other boy that Souda had introduced, Tanaka.

“Be cautious, mortal! It appears that despite only having entered this building mere moments ago, you have already encountered a cursed being…” He boomed in a gruff voice, grabbing hold of Hinata’s shoulders.

This only startled him further, leading Hinata to push Tanaka away from him. “Take a step back! Geez! What the fuck are you saying?”

“Guys I know you’re excited but give him room.” Souda stepped between Hinata and Mioda, encouraging the girl to exit his personal space. “Tanaka was just pointing out the fact you were talking to...what’s that guy’s name again?”

“Komaeda.” Hinata mumbled.

“Komaeda! Right.” Souda affirmed, smiling a little

“OOH! Creepy drug dealer Komaeda?” Mioda somehow sounded rather excited about that.

“Creepy drug dealer?” Hinata questioned.

Tanaka nodded. “That’s correct. That fiend uses this venue as a means of dispensing his poison.”

“Yeah, yeah! One of Ibuki’s friends O’Ded on a bunch of the pills he sold him! He’s no good! He doesn’t even dance!”

Hinata was a little confused. Yeah the guy was intimidating but not...creepy? Also, isn’t it the responsibility of whoever’s taking the drugs not to take too many? It’s not like Komaeda shoved them down his throat… Though admittedly the prospect of Komaeda being a drug dealer did put him off a little.

“He doesn’t seem that bad.” Hinata defended him, despite not really being sure why.

“You should probably stay away from him anyway, Hinata bro. C’mon, there’s plenty of other fish in the sea!” Souda cheered, slapping him hard on the back.

The other boy winced, feeling somewhat shaken by the events that were going down. Man he expected Souda’s friends to be eccentric but...they were fucking crazy. He almost wanted to go back to chatting with chill cotton candy boy. At least he respected boundaries.

“Right, sure. Hey, I’ve already had a few drinks so I’m gonna go take a piss. Feel free to get started without me.” Hinata flashed the group a forced smile, before dashing off into the crowd before any of them could object.

Once he felt thoroughly out of sight, he sighed loudly. It was weird that he felt more comfortable being surrounded by random people who weren’t talking to him than he did with that little bundle of freaks. That was until that comfortable mass of people suddenly reached out and grabbed ahold of his wrist. He froze in pure fear.

“Hinata-kun! How lucky it is that I get to see you again!”

His racing heart slowed a little as he recognised the voice along with that fluffy bundle of hair and much too exposed chest. It was just Komaeda, creepy drug dealer Komaeda.

“Jesus christ please don’t scare me like that!” He hissed, drawing in a little closer so he could properly hear the other boy.

Komaeda laughed cheekily, giving Hinata a big grin. “I’m going to assume your friends told you about the kind of person I am, huh?”

“Huh? Were you listening or something?”

“No, but it’s what most people who drag newcomers along do. I’m surprised they didn’t warn you earlier!”

“...Is that why you pounced on me at the bar?”

Komaeda bit his lip, averting his gaze a little. “Ah, I must have come on too strongly. I'm sorry, it’s not often people don’t outwardly reject me. Not that they aren’t right to do so, I’m quite worthless trash, after all.”

Hinata ignored the self deprecation, deciding to instead tackle the root of the problem. “So Komaeda, why do you come here then?”

“Socialisation, appreciation of the music, the fact the business doesn’t care if I deal here, I can dress like a male stripper without being judged. There’s a few reasons Hinata-kun, would you like to hear more?”

Hinata shook his head, feeling a little embarrassed by the fact Komaeda actually admitted the last one. “No no that’s enough. So uh, why do you deal drugs?”

“Hmm, why do you think I deal drugs, Hinata-kun?”

Hinata pressed a fist to his lips in thought. “Poor financial situation?”

Komaeda cackled as if it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard before shaking his head. “No, god, if anything it’s the opposite. I do it because it’s fun. I like giving people a new perspective on the world, a chance to enjoy themselves even more so than usual.”

“I see…” Hinata mumbled. “You aren’t dealing any like...hard drugs, are you?”

Komaeda waved his hands innocently. “No no not at all. I’ve tried heroin, that stuff is way too addictive for me to just be passing it around. I don’t deal any kinds of opioids at all, actually. Mostly just cannabis, MDMA, LSD occasionally. Oh! And ketamine, that’s been really popular recently.” He clapped his hands together in completion.

“Wow...so Mioda’s friend who overdosed-”

“Was an idiot, yes.” Komaeda sighed, rolling his eyes and crossing his over his chest. “I did tell him to slow down, but you know how people can be. Getting overzealous isn’t going to make you any higher.”

“I guess...” Hinata was feeling a little guilty for bringing up something that obviously frustrated Komaeda. “Is that kind of high really worth risking your health for?”

“Well, if you’re smart about it you’re usually fine. Especially with stuff like ecstasy, the serotonin drawback is easily managed and the high is…” Komaeda’s lips curved into an impossibly wide grin and his voice dipped a little. “It’s really worth it.”

“R-really? I have heard that ecstasy is one of the more enjoyable drugs you can do...”

“Mm? You wanna try some?” Komaeda smirked, reaching into his coat pocket before pulling his hand out to reveal a small baggie containing several hot pink coloured tablets.

Hinata’s brain instantly recoiled. Years of anti-drug and peer pressure campaigns told him he absolutely shouldn’t. He didn’t know this man, he didn’t know this drug. Smoking weed in Souda’s garage didn’t compare to doing ecstasy with a complete stranger.

And yet he was completely entranced as Komaeda plucked a pill from the bag between two fingers. He smirked, looking down at the other boy like a predator eyeing up it’s prey.

“The choice is yours, Hinata-kun.”

Komaeda poked out his tongue, carefully placing the neon tablet onto it. Hinata felt as if he was on fire, especially after hearing his name on those sultry lips. The pill glowed under the bluelight, beginning to dissolve from Komaeda’s saliva. The boy huffed, urging him to make the decision before it disappeared completely.

That was enough to send the blood straight from the decision making centre of his brain and straight to the teenage boy part of his brain that said ‘Fuck it; he’s really hot.’

Hinata grabbed the taller boy, wrapping his fingers in the little fishnet crop top he wore. He stuck his own tongue out, pulling Komaeda in closely until their tongues made contact and he could pull the pill onto his own. It tasted bitter and tarty, but that elated look on Komaeda’s face kept him from pulling away.

The other boy took over, pushing the pill further onto Hinata’s tongue until the kiss had returned to his mouth. He eyed Hinata’s throat closely, continuing to kiss him deeply whilst watching for that telltale bob of his throat which came moments later. He’d swallowed it.

Komaeda broke off the kiss, not missing the little whine that left Hinata’s throat as he pulled away. He took another pill from the baggie and placed it on his tongue again before shoving the rest in his pocket. “H-huh...you want me to take two? Is that even safe...?” Hinata stammered, eyeing the other boy cautiously.

Komaeda drew his tongue back into his mouth, dry swallowing the pill as if it was what he was born to do. “What? You thought you were the only one getting high? I can give you another if you’d like.”

“No no, I just assumed you were already high…” Hinata spoke at a normal volume, which made him quite difficult to hear.

Komaeda broke into a fit of laughter, startling Hinata. “Oh wow you really haven’t done this before have you? I’m not going to give you any more, one is more than enough.”

Logical thought was starting to return to Hinata; he was nervous now. “That’s fine...uh...what should I expect?”

“Oh, right. It takes about half an hour to an hour to kick in. You’ll probably feel nauseous first. If you need to hurl, just let it happen. You should start feeling the effects not long after that.” Komaeda took a hold of Hinata’s hand, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles reassuringly.

“Right. Cool. That’s exciting. Uh, say Komaeda…” Hinata trailed off for a few seconds, but jumped back in to the sentence before the other boy could question it. “You mentioned earlier that you like the music right? What kind of artists are you into?”

“Hmm, I’m into more obscure artists than anything. Uhhhh...Have you heard of EDEN?”

“Never. “

“That’s unfortunate. What about...Deadmau5?”

“Oh I know him! Classic. Not a big fan of his songs though. Have you heard of David Guetta?”

Komaeda clicked his tongue. “Of course. Generic, but he has some good songs.. Porter Robinson?”

“Ehh I’ve vaguely heard of him? What about Dillon Francis?”

“Also painfully generic. Krewella?”

“Don’t know 'em. Martin Garrix?”

“Appeals too much to the masses. Uhm surely you’ve heard of Daft Punk?”

“Duh, who hasn’t. Their music’s a little too mellow for me, though. Avicii?”

“GOD Avicii! His music is brilliant. All his songs are quite tragic to listen to now though.” Komaeda breathed a sigh of relief, thankful they could find common ground amongst Hinata’s painfully vanilla taste. “Such an unfortunate loss of somebody with such shining hope…”

Hinata nodded in agreement, also recalling how heartbreaking it was to lose such a talented artist. They chatted for a short while about their favourite songs by him, bonding over their attachment to the lyrics. As if on queue actually, one of his songs started playing loudly over the speakers littered throughout the venue. The Nights, specifically.

“Huh. Ironic.” He murmured.

“Is it? He was a very talented and popular DJ after all.”

“Whatever! Dance with me.”

Hinata hadn’t noticed Komaeda let go of his hand during their conversation, so naturally it was his duty to remedy that. He grabbed ahold of those skinny fingers, pulling Komaeda closer.

Komaeda was quite surprised by Hinata’s sudden burst of confidence, but most certainly welcomed it. It wasn’t before long that they were both belting out the lyrics as loudly as they could whilst clinging to one another and swaying. Hinata felt absolutely ecstatic, as if he was walking on air with the prettiest boy in this stupid place.

Until the nausea hit him like a sack of bricks.

He gagged against Komaeda’s shoulder, cupping his hand over his mouth aggressively. Komaeda wasn’t kidding when he said he was probably gonna throw up, geez…

“Ah, sorry Hinata-kun, I wasn’t paying attention.” Komaeda chuckled softly as he slid his hand up the other boy’s arm a little, pressing his thumb into the soft part of his wrist an inch or so below his palm. Almost immediately Hinata’s nausea began to ease off, leaving him feeling quite delirious.

“Wh-what kind of spell did you just cast on me, Komaeda?” Hinata stared at Komaeda as if he were a god among men.

“It’s a pressure point.” He smirked, drawing in a little closer to bask in Hinata’s loving gaze. “If you feel better than you’ll probably be fine, luck is on our side.”

Hinata giggled, using his free hand to place his hand on Komaeda’s face. “You’re pretty.”

Komaeda returned the gesture, despite being a little upset Hinata completely ignored his explanation. “You’re high.”

“We both are! Y’know what that means?”

“What does it mean, Hinata-kun?”

Hinata answered the question by planting his lips on Komaeda’s. Which wasn’t really an answer, but he leaned into the kiss regardless.

It took no time at all for Hinata’s innocent kiss to turn more intimate. Soft swipes of wet tongues had the two of them melting into each other. Hinata’s hands roamed higher, fingers wrapping in those messy blue curls as he revelled in the texture. Komaeda’s hands drifted lower, settling on the other boy’s exposed hips as he lightly brushed his fingers over the skin.

Hinata curled a small chunk of hair around his fingers and tugged harshly, pulling Komaeda’s face even closer as their teeth knocked together. A low moan left his throat, absolutely enthralled by the pain rippling through his skull. This only roused Hinata further; the boy suddenly grinding his hips into Komaeda’s.

In all honesty, Komaeda didn’t expect to get this far. Of course he was attracted to Hinata, especially the innocent way he assumed no ill in his intentions. And Hinata was quite obviously attracted to him, evident by the was he completely undressed Komaeda with his eyes upon their first encounter. Hinata shouldn’t have come back after learning he was unfavourable company. Hinata shouldn’t have so easily warmed up to him. Hinata most certainly shouldn’t have taken that pill right off his tongue. Komaeda just kept pushing and pushing, trying his luck even further and it just kept working.

It was wrong, dangerous, but he couldn’t stop. Especially not now that both of them had basically thrown away all fear and impulse control with just one little pill.

So Komaeda did the same thing he had been doing all night, acting on those shameful urges of his. His hands slid over Hinata’s hip bones, then down to squeeze his ass through his jeans. Hinata startled, squeaking as he pulled back to take a breath of air.

Both of them were left panting, the room feeling significantly warmer than before. Not once did they break eye contact whilst trying to regain their breath, as if each one was trying to figure out what the other was thinking. Surprisingly enough, it was Komaeda this time who decided to make his desires clear.

He leaned closer, down as close as he could get to Hinata’s ear before whispering out one word, “More.”

Hinata moaned loudly, despite all that was done to him was purely audial. Komaeda couldn’t help but laugh, bewildered by the odd reaction. He went to straighten back up, but Hinata’s grip in his hair tightened. “K-keep talking…”

“Hmm? What would you like to hear,” Komaeda’s voice dropped an octave as he dragged the name out, “Hi-na-ta-kun?”

A whimper was contained behind Hinata’s lips as he pressed his thighs together, a weak attempt to steady his building arousal. Komaeda smirked, knowing he’d hit the mark. The drug was making Hinata’s hearing sensitive, so every sound felt better than it was in reality. He couldn’t deny that he was feeling the same way, but right now there was only one sound he wanted to hear.

Komaeda kissed his temple, trailing light little kisses down Hinata’s jaw until he settled on a soft part of his neck, giving it a curious lick. The other boy writhed beneath him, practically begging Komaeda to do something. He sunk his teeth in, eliciting a high pitched whine from the other boy as he pushed himself even closer.

“Komaed-aaaaa!” Hinata squealed, hitching his leg around the other’s waist. Komaeda wrapped his arms around Hinata’s back, ensuring neither of them lost their balance in the process. He sucked at the irritated skin, occasionally grazing his teeth across the wound. Hinata seemed to be getting a lot of pleasure out of it, judging by the way he rubbed his crotch against the front of Komaeda’s jeans. Komaeda couldn’t deny that he was mimicking those motions himself.

“K-komaeda...I can’t- I can’t keep doing this…” Hinata huffed, seemingly out of breath.

Komaeda pulled away from the boy’s neck feeling a little disappointed. “Oh? Have you finally realised what worthless garbage I truly am?” He topped the sentence off with a little laugh, one that he intended to be dark but was just high and giggly.

“No! Not at all! You’re amazing Ko! You’re making me feel so,” Hinata gyrated his hips, moaning out the rest of his sentence, “ so good.”

Never did Komaeda expect that sentence to make him so flustered. He swallowed hard, attempting to regain his self-control so he didn't start fucking him right there on the dancefloor. “W-we should take this elsewhere…”

Hinata’s eyes lit up as if he were a little kid on Christmas. He slid his leg down off the other boy’s waist and let go of his hair before straightening up and tugging his fishnets back up his hips, acting all proper as if he hadn’t been dry-humping somebody moments ago. “Yes. That sounds...great.”

They shared a nod, then Komaeda wrapped his fingers around Hinata’s wrist and began to lead him through the crowd. Hinata could barely contain his excitement, grinning from ear to ear at the thought of spending more time with Komaeda, being touched, touching him. It all felt much too good. It would also be great to relieve the throbbing boner that was chafing against his underwear.

Komaeda pulled them from the dancefloor, more towards the back of the building. Hinata swore he saw a flash of pink hair as they passed the bar, but he concluded that it was probably just the strobe lights. Komaeda pushed open the door to the men’s restroom, and suddenly they were stood in a bright room trying to blink away the burn of the lights. Hinata whined and squeezed his eyes closed.

The taller boy pulled him into the very end stall, clicking the lock shut behind them. “Hinata-kun, c’mon, open your eyes…”

Hinata grumbled, slowly blinking and rubbing at his eyes as they adjusted to the foreign light. Despite still squinting he was able to actually get a good look at Komaeda now. He was paler than expected, and that cotton-candy coloured hair was actually a snow white. His eyes were a soft grey, well, what he could see past those blown pupils. Those thin lips were swollen and red from their passionate makeout. He was just as attractive without those neon lights.

Komaeda stared, shocked by what he was seeing before him. Not because Hinata looked different without the dark lights, or the large red hickey decorating his neck. He threaded his fingers into his own hair, making a wheezy little laughing sound.

He couldn’t believe it, Hinata’s pupils were quivering.

“Hmm? Do you like what you seeeee?” Hinata giggled, clearly appreciating the attention.

“Yes, it’s just, wow...we should do this before you get over your peak huh?”

“Peak?”

“Mhmm,” Komaeda leaned in close to Hinata’s ear, “right now your senses should be at their highest point.”

Ridiculously enough, Hinata’s knees immediately went weak upon hearing that seductive voice again. Komaeda took the opportunity to place his hands on Hinata’s hips and force his back into the wall, the cold tiles burning at his exposed waist.

They kissed again, but this time it was sloppy and desperate. Komaeda’s tongue in Hinata’s mouth, then Hinata’s tongue in Komaeda’s mouth. Drool dribbled down Komaeda’s chin when he lost focus for a moment whilst unbuttoning Hinata’s jeans.

Komaeda brought his hand to Hinata’s front and began to palm him slowly through his boxers. Hinata moaned into the kiss, leaning into Komaeda’s touch until he suddenly changed his mind. He brought his hand to the other boy’s wrist, pulling back.

“Wait wait wait...could you fuck me instead?” He whispered, voice low despite not possessing a hint of hesitation.

Komaeda chuckled. “Here? Seriously.”

Hinata was confused for a moment before he noted the lack of space in the toilet stall. Komaeda shifted slightly, drawing attention to the way his shoes kept sticking to the floor. On the stall door and walls graffiti told tales of unrequited love and scrawled phone numbers. Everything about this was so gross, so filthy, so obscene. But that only seemed to make it all the more appealing.

“Pleeeeease fuck me, Komaeda Nagito.”

Komaeda put up his hands in a defensive pose, desperately trying to keep a grip on things before both of them got too out of hand. “Hooooold on, do you even have a condom?”

“Uuuuuhhh…” Hinata patted his front pockets then his back pockets. Fortunately his wallet was still there, but- Wait, something crinkled in the other pocket.

He pulled out the offending object and held it between two fingers. It was a condom in shiny green packaging. He couldn’t help but giggle, of course Souda had planted it on him earlier. “How lucky.”

Komaeda smirked, almost as if he knew this was going to happen. “Well, since you asked so nicely and even have a condom, I guess I can’t say no can I?”

“Y-you can say no!” Hinata protested.

“I know, I’m just messing with you.” Komaeda winked, plucking the wrapper from Hinata’s hands and shoving in into his front pocket. “I’ve wanted this, wanted you, all night.”

If he wasn’t already feeling impossibly hot, Hinata would have gotten even hotter at those words. The sheer desperation dripping from his voice reminded him of his own poorly neglected erection. Komaeda wiggled his thumbs underneath the waistline of Hinata’s jeans and pulled them down, letting them sit about halfway down his thighs. He then looped his fingers into the elastic of the fishnets, pulling it back a little before letting it snap back against Hinata’s stomach.

Komaeda laughed at the way Hinata yelped. “God I would’ve loved to fuck you in just the stockings. Just look at the way they squeeze into your chubby little thighs! Soo cute, Hinata-kun…”

"You can fuck me in them next time, just pleeeeeeease hurry up!" Hinata whined, puffing his cheeks out to express his frustration.

"Next time? Well, that better be a promise." Komaeda smirked to himself as he pulled down the boy's stockings, leaving his underwear now completely exposed.

Komaeda crouched down to his knees, feeling a little performative with the way Hinata's eyes burned into him. He placed his hands on the boy's hips before bringing his mouth to the wet patch on the front his boxers. Perhaps he should warn Hinata that this was going to feel a lot better than he remembered…or not.

Hinata gasped, his fingers finding their way back into those curly white locks. This seemingly egged Komaeda on and he pressed his whole face against Hinata's crotch, taking in a deep breath.

"You smell really good…"

"Grooooss!! How perverted are you?" Hinata put on a chastising tone, but his intrigued expression was very much betraying him.

"Veeeeerry." Komaeda mumbled against Hinata's clothed cock, sending small vibrations along the skin.

He slid his hands back up, tugging down the waistband of Hinata’s boxers. The exposure of his hot dick against the cold air made a shiver go down his spine. Komaeda just gaped, in complete awe at how hard and wet he already was.

Komaeda stuck out his tongue and licked a long stripe from the base of Hinata’s cock to the trip, drawing out a long and high-pitched moan. Hinata couldn’t believe how fucking good it all felt. Komaedas breath hot on his dick, the texture of every single taste bud stimulating the sensitive skin, the fishnets digging into his thighs and the way Komaeda’s nails gently grazed over his hips. It was too much, especially now that the boy’s lips were teasing at the reddened head and sucking in such a lewd way.

“K-komaeda...I think I’m already going to come…” Hinata huffed, tugging at the hair of the boy below him.

Komaeda took his hands and mouth away. “C’mon Hinata-kun, at least try to keep it together.” He teased, despite wanting nothing more than for Hinata to completely lose his mind.

Hinata whined at the lack of contact, but he seemed to recover slightly as he panted and leaned further back against the wall. “It’s just...it’s really good.”

“It’s supposed to be. Ah, screw it, even I can’t wait. Turn around.” Komaeda murmured away to himself, beginning to undo the clasp of his belt. This action was followed by the undoing of the front of his jeans, then both his jeans and boxers being messily pushed down.

Oh! The carpet does match the drapes!

Unsurprisingly, Komaeda was just as hard as he was. Precome shimmered under the bright lights coating nearly the entire tip of his cock. He reached into his jeans pocket, pulling the condom packet out and tearing it open with ease. Carefully he pulled the object from the wrapper (which was swiftly shoved back into his pocket) and brought it to the head of his dick, pinching the little tip as he rolled the latex down the shaft. It was a translucent green colour…

Hinata didn’t realise he had been gawking until Komaeda let go of the tip and spun his finger in a little circle in the air, reminding him that he was asked to turn around. He nodded quickly and bit his lip, attempting to suppress the child-like excitement bubbling up in his chest as he pressed himself against the cool tiles.

Hinata stepped his lower half back a little from the wall, allowing his back to curve in a way Komaeda couldn't help but adore. To express this newfound adoration, he brought his hand down hard on Hinata's right ass cheek, relishing in both the debauched sound he made and the red handprint marring his skin.

“So meaaaan…” Hinata snivelled, sniffing away fake tears.

Komaeda giggled a little at the comment, tracing his index finger down between Hinata’s cheeks until he settled at his entrance. It was slightly lubed from what he had picked up off the condom, but definitely not well enough to cause Hinata no pain. He could only hope that the boy could handle it.

He pressed the finger in, finding there was little resistance. Somewhat relieved, Komeda added a second, an action that caused the Hinata to squeeze his eyes closed tightly and huff. “That burns…”

Komaeda planted his other hand on the wall and leaned in close to his shoulder, whispering as closely to his ear as he could. “It’s okay, you’re doing great.”

The next noise Hinata made was one of pleasure, likely from hearing Komaeda’s voice again. He took advantage of the opportunity and pushed his fingers deeper, separating them slowly as Hinata made another pained expression.

“You’re such a good boy, just open up for me please.”

Another moan, Komaeda spread his fingers fully, another cry of pain.

“Yes, yes, that’s it Hajime-kun.”

Hinata’s whole body shivered upon hearing his first name. He could see himself getting really addicted to this, but he wasn’t sure if he was referring to the MDMA pumping through his veins or the praise of the boy above him.

Komaeda’s fingers disappeared, leaving him feeling empty but not upset. It was a sign of more to come. Hinata felt his heart begin to race impossibly quick as the head of Komaeda’s cock rubbed up against him.

“T-this is going to hurt.” Komaeda murmured.

“Do it. Break me.”

The little self restraint Komaeda had left snapped immediately upon hearing those words. His hips jerked forward involuntarily, and with some guidance he was already pushing into the other boy much too quickly. Hinata keened, his voice breaking halfway through that loud cry and he was left making a quiet raspy sound.

His whole body was on fire. He could feel Komaeda’s cock throbbing inside him, so desperate to start moving. His heart was pounding in his ears, feeling as though it was matching the muffled 180bpm music blaring beyond the walls. Telling Komaeda to do that was clearly not the best decision he had made this evening...along with pretty much everything else.

“You’re so ridiculously hot Hinata-kun...I...I think I’m losing my mind…” Komaeda wheezed, laughing softly as his breath huffed hot against Hianta’s ear.

Hinata moaned again and rolled his hips back onto Komaeda, he was getting antsy, he needed more. The pain didn’t matter, not compared to the urgent need to be touched and burn off this excess energy. “I stand by what I said, please, don’t hold back. I need more, Nagito.”

That was motivating enough for Komaeda, who moved his hips back before snapping them forwards. It didn’t hurt so much this time, in fact, it was actually starting to feel good. Komaeda nestled his head into the crook oh Hinata’s shoulder, smiling wide as he brushed his lips against his neck.

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Hinata nodded, pressing his lips together tightly as he felt a drop of sweat roll down his forehead.

Komaeda thrust into the boy beneath him roughly, relishing in the whimpering sound he made along with the slap of skin on skin. “Whore.”

Hinata resented the way his dick twitched upon hearing that word. “Wh-whore…?”

“Hm? That’s what you are, aren’t you? You come to a club, you ditch your friends to go do drugs then get fucked by a random stranger. I’d say that’s some pretty whorish behaviour.”

Oh shit, Komaeda wasn’t wrong. He’d completely forgotten about Sou-

Komaeda thrust into him again, stealing the air from Hinata’s lungs. An intense pleasure shocked through his body and he gasped, shuddering with a moan upon the exhale. He swore his vision went black for a moment as all coherent thought was completely wiped from his brain. “H-holy shit…”

“Easy to please, too.” Komaeda grinned and he could hear it.

Komaeda placed a hand on his waist and finally started fucking him with an actual pace, something Hinata didn’t expect himself to be grateful for. He moaned unashamedly, fingers clawing at the tiles frantically for something to ground him; secure him in a hold that wasn’t just Komaeda’s. How did he even have this much control over his actions right now?!

“So pathetic. I bet you never thought things would end up like this, did you?” Komaeda whispered in that irresistible voice of his.

Hinata’s only response was to moan louder.

“Answer the question, Hajime.”

“N-ah! No! I-I di- hah- didn’t!”

A hand slid up his side, tickling the sensitive skin as he brushed over it. It felt as if fireworks burst under every spot Komaeda’s fingers touched, making him tremble all over. It was too much, too much, he’s so so hot. Even the tears on his cheeks weren’t helping at all to alleviate that heat in his face.

“It’s- hah- It’s so cute how worked up you are.” Komaeda’s composure dropped for a moment as he moaned right in Hinata’s ear. If Hinata could have broken right there, he would’ve.

Komaeda noticed the way Hinata’s muscles clenched around him upon hearing him moan. It was amusing and devastating all at once. Even if he tried to pretend it wasn’t, the ecstasy was still making his senses overwhelmingly strong. Instead of continuing to tease the boy, it would be better to let his actions push him over the edge. He quickened the pace of his hips, thrusting rather messily as he stopped suppressing the obscene sounds coming from his mouth.

Hinata’s brain was going haywire, soaking in everything at once to the point of overstimulation. The sensation of the smooth tiles against his hot cheek, the fingers lightly grazing his chest, the sweat dripping down his back, the loud moans of the boy in his ear, the hair tickling at his neck, the physical presence of Komaeda above him, the head of his cock grazing against Hinata’s prostate, the feeling of his balls hitting his taint with every thrust that signified he had taken the entirety of Komaeda’s-

Hinata screamed.

Komaeda wasn’t sure to be flattered or concerned. The other boy convulsed beneath him, making a sound somewhere between a sob and a moan. He was coming already after all that teasing? That's no fair.

Hinata’s knees gave out beneath him, which would have put both of them on the floor had Komaeda not wrapped his arms around the boy’s midsection. They were both wheezing and panting heavily, to the point that Komaeda didn’t even have the breath to tell him to snap out of it. He pressed Hinata harder into the wall to force him to stay up as he kept thrusting.

The boy beneath him near squealed as his overstimulated dick burned against the cold tiles Hinata couldn't tell if he was in pain because everything felt too good, much too good. His body only craved more of that stimulation, more touch more movement more sound. "M-more…"

If Komaeda was capable of coherent thought at this point, he would have definitely stopped to question it. But his thoughts were filled with one thing, Hinata, and how fucking good it felt being inside him. Either Kuzuryuu had supplied him pills cut with viagra, or Hinata was a fucking monster.

Hinata nodded, laughing a little as he looked down and realised he was still just as hard as before. "K-keep going…it hurts."

“Hinata-kun...hah- Hajime. ” Komaeda moaned, bringing both of his hands down to cling to Hinata’s hips and he pounded into him without abandon.

Hinata was completely pressed to the wall now, crying as his face was forced into the tiles. Every time Komaeda pushed back into him his body shuddered as pain and pleasure rippled through. There was no chance to push Komaeda away, he felt so light and weak, muscles completely surrendering as he whimpered against the tiles.

“I love you, I love you so much Hajime-kun!”

“I- hiii- I love you too, aha, Nagito…”

The logical part of his brain knew that that was wrong. How could he love somebody who he just met? But the logical part of his brain couldn't talk, and all he knew was that this kind of intimacy was loving, anybody who would touch Hinata was somebody he loved.

Komaeda giggled, his voice raising into a high pitched whine as he began to chant Hinata’s name. “You’re so good Hajime-kun! Hajime-kun Hajime-kuuuun!!!”

His thrusts became more erratic as he dug his nails into Hinata’s skin. He was so so so close he just needed a little bit more and he could-

“N-nagito!” Hinata wailed. “That hurts!!”

Koameda came with a loud cry, riding out his orgasm with slowed movements. Hinata was bawling now, snivelling and whimpering with small sounds that almost could’ve been Komaeda’s first name. The boy above him burned with shame as he realised he’d just come to Hinata crying his name and he liked it.

He pulled out of Hinata, then yanked up the boy’s underwear and sat him on the toilet seat, waiting for him to ride out the vertigo from his sensory overload. His tears had seemingly weaned off just from being sat down with nothing to touch him. Hinata stared with a blank expression, small sobs occasionally leaving his throat as Komaeda begun to clean himself up.

He pulled off the condom and tied it at the end, dropping it in the box designated for sharp waste, not that it was sharp waste, but rather it was convenient. Komaeda then tucked himself back into his boxers, pulling them and his jeans back up to where they sat on his hips previously before doing up the fly. Hinata made a whiny little noise, suddenly being brought back to earth. Komaeda knelt down in front of the toilet, bringing his hand up to the boy’s cheek. “Hey, are you okay?”

Hinata nodded. For some reason he was expecting the ecstasy to completely wear off once he came, but of course it didn’t. He still felt light and giggly, but even more so now that he was completely exhausted. “H-how can you still be moving…?”

“I’ve done this a few times before.” Komaeda smiled, before realising the implications of his words. “Ah, not having sex in a public bathroom, but MDMA.”

Hinata responded with a sound of acknowledgement.

Komaeda eyed his clothed erection. “I’m surprised you’re still hard after all of that. Would you like me to do something about it?”

Hinata shook his head. It was understandable, his nerves were probably on fire right now.

“Here, stand up so I can clean the cum off your stomach.” Komaeda stood up, extending an arm to the other boy.

He took it graciously, his knees stuttering a little as Komaeda hauled him to his feet. He flushed bright red upon remembering that they had been having very loud very public sex just moments ago. “That was....really good.”

Komaeda nodded, ripping some toilet paper off the roll, before bringing it to Hinata’s exposed belly. It tickled a bit, so he looked away to distract himself, only to stare directly at the white fluid that was dripping down the tiles now. God he was so disgusting.

“Oh, it got on your shirt too. Sorry…” Komaeda murmured, wiping that down as well.

“It’s f-fine, I’ll just wash it before g-giving it back to Souda.” Hinata stuttered out.

Komaeda snorted. “You sure Souda-kun’s gonna want it back?”

“Y-you’re a dick.” Hinata grumbled, punching the other boy’s shoulder lightly.

Komaeda seemed content with his job, kissing a soft reassuring kiss to Hinata’s cheek as he tossed the soiled paper into the toilet. He grabbed another bunch to clean up Hinata’s mess on the wall, which only made the boy feel more embarrassed.

“So what’s your plan now, Hinata-kun?” Komaeda asked the question without even turning to look at him. “Are you going to head back to the dancefloor or are you wiped?”

“I’m fucking wiped. But...I- I really want to keep going!” Hinata sighed, examining the damage to his shirt.

“In what sense?”

“Um, I wanna keep enjoying this...I guess? Going home alone to sleep just sounds like a waste…”

“Oh!” Komaeda spun around to look at Hinata. “I should’ve mentioned it earlier, but you’ll probably have a hard time getting to sleep.”

“Oh, great, that’s exciting!” Despite the remark being obviously sarcastic, the tone of Hinata’s voice didn’t quite express that. “Well, what do you plan to do?”

“Go home alone and try to go to sleep.”

“Oh.”

The silence between them stretched out for way too long, it was even more uncomfortable because Hinata couldn’t stop making these awkward giggly noises. Komaeda finished cleaning up and tossed the other bit of soiled paper into the toilet before flushing it.

Hinata suddenly broke the silence with a question. “Do you wanna come to my place and cuddle?”

Komaeda broke out into a loud cackle, one that made Hinata’s heart ache from the supposed rejection. “Oh Hinata-kun, please don’t toy with my feelings like that! We couldn’t do such a thing after I...defiled you in that way.”

“Huh?! What are you talking about?” Hinata pouted, grabbing his stockings and pulling them up. “C’mon it’s a good idea! Neither of us would have to be alone and we can still enjoy the high!”

Komaeda shook his head. “Why would you want to do something so intimate with somebody like me?”

“Because I like you! Is that not evident by the fact I let you fuck me in the ass?!” Hinata snapped in frustration.

A snort came from one of the other stalls. Hinata bit his tongue and pulled up his jeans, avoiding meeting the other’s gaze. Komaeda also looked incredibly sheepish as he did up his own belt. The two of them waited for whoever was in there to be done, wash their hands and leave before speaking again.

“What’s up with that scar on your abdomen?”

“Oh this?” Komaeda traced his finger over a small line near his navel. “Funny story actually, you remember that guy I mentioned earlier who overdosed?”

“Yeah?”

“I refused to pay his medical bills so he stabbed me!”

Hinata was shocked, but also not surprised as he laughed softly. “That’s terrible Komaeda!”

Komaeda seemed to find it even funnier than he did. “You’re telling me! That was the second time I’ve been stabbed here!”

The pieces clicked together in Hinata’s mind. Of course the guy who got stabbed twice at Hope’s Summit was the one he’d fallen for. It only made some stupid sense. He slapped his palm into his forehead and giggled. “Okay, you’re definitely coming home with me, I need to hear more about this.”

Komaeda sighed in defeat. “I’ll come home with you, sure. But you’re going to regret it.”

“I won’t.” Hinata reached up and ruffled Komaeda’s hair, eliciting a smile from the other boy as he pushed the stall door open.

Hinata blinked his bleary eyes open. He was hot, sweaty, and feeling incredibly heavy. A mess of white hair lay upon his chest, drooling onto his left pec. He groaned, slowly reaching over to the highstand on his left to grab his phone without waking the sleeping Komaeda.

5:19pm

29 / 4 / 2020

37 Missed calls from Souda Kazuichi

#Danganronpa #Ficgiri #Hinata Hajime #komahina #komaeda nagito

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scapegrace74-blog · 4 years ago

Text

Now or Never Now

A/N Really more of a PSA: drunkenness and unrequited (or unacknowledged) feelings for your roommate aren’t the best of bed fellows.

All other parts of the Metric Universe are available on my AO3 page.

The song by Metric that inspired the title and a few lines is here.

May 1, 2018, The Pride of Spitalfields, London, England

If he were forced to account for his twenty-eight years of life, he reckoned he’d made a decent start of things. It helped to have been born into a loving, boisterous family, cradled in the bucolic nursery garden of the Scottish Highlands. A good education, good values, a strong sense of duty: these he owed to his parents.

Since moving to London at twenty-two, he’d begun to weave the advantages of youth into the intentions of adulthood, with varied results. Failed relationships, the struggles of establishing a career in his uncle’s shadow and the cataclysm of his accident were setbacks, to be sure, but they forged his character in the blast furnace of adversity. He enjoyed the comradeship of a tight-knit group of colleagues and friends. Only three months ago, he’d been promoted to Crew Manager at the Bethnal Green station, and he had his eye on a Station Officer post before he turned thirty-five, his ambition to finally break free of Dougal’s influence. And Claire. He couldn’t count his blessings without numbering his Sassenach among them.

He performed this annual stock-taking as he walked to his local pub. It was his birthday, and he was meeting some friends for a celebratory drink. To absolutely no-one’s surprise except her own, Claire had finished her first year of medical school at the top of her class, and he’d convinced her to join them.

The air was warm and sweet with blossoms as he entered the pub to a rowdy cheer. His mates had secured two tables near the tiny stage where a three-piece band were setting up. The party was well underway, and a pint of lager was thrust into his hand before he’d even taken his seat.

He thought he’d been rather surreptitious in checking the door each time it opened, but Hamish slapped him hard on the back and commented in a voice the whole table could hear.

“Yer Sassenach missus willna get here any faster wi’ yer eyes glued tae the door, lad. Christ, has she got ye whipped!”

He felt the tips of his ears grow warm as the rest of the table laughed and joined in on the good-natured ribbing. When he looked back up, Claire was standing there shedding her coat. He momentarily forgot to breathe. She was wearing black tights and the jean mini-skirt from their first meeting in this very pub, along with a sleeveless, cropped, ruffled confection that he’d definitely never seen before. She was, quite simply, stunning. The momentary lull from the rest of the table told him he wasn’t the only one who thought so. He stood and hastened to greet her with a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Jamie!” she cried. “Happy birthday!” Her arms wrapped around his neck and she leaned in to return his kiss, barely missing his lips. He could smell whisky on her breath.

“Did ye get a headstart on yer celebratin’, Sassenach?” he asked, both amused and confounded. Claire hadn’t mentioned any other plans, and it wasn’t like her to drink alone at their flat.

“Aye, I have,” she giggled. “I had a partner in crime. Look who’s here!”

Claire gestured towards the coat check, where a familiar redhead was flirting with the attendant. His wame plummeted towards his shoes.

“Geillis,” he greeted as she approached. “Welcome back tae London. I didna realize ye were visiting.”

“Aye, we just arrived yesterday. Happy birthday, fox cub. Ye look well,” she commented with a smirk.

“As do ye,” he replied politely, glancing quickly at Claire to gauge her reaction, but she was observing the band, who had just begun to play.

“Och, mince,” Geillis replied. “My arse needed its own baggage allowance, but at least my tits are huge. Ferget about the bairns, I hadta pry Juan Carlos off ‘em so I could join in yer wee festivities!”

It was comforting to see motherhood hadn’t dampened Geillis’ spirit in the slightest.

“I see the lads are all here,” Claire segued quickly. “What are we drinking?”

Jamie slid his chair over to make room for the two newcomers. Before she’d even sat down, Geillis bought a round of shots for the table, to the general delight of his mates. It was going to be an interesting night.

***

“Com’ dance wit’ me!” Claire yelled in his ear louder than was absolutely necessary. Several hours had passed, and he’d lost track of the number of pints and shots she’d consumed. Realizing one of them would need to stay relatively sober, he’d been nursing the same ale for the past hour.

“Claire, I really dinna dance o’ermuch,” he stalled as she dragged him towards the small area between tables where a few other couples were rocking together to a slow ballad.

“Neveryouworry, lad. I’ll lead.” Of course you will, he thought fondly.

Instead of leading, Claire literally fell against his chest, allowing his bulk to catch her. Chilly hands met behind his neck and began teasing his curls where they lay against his nape. He couldn’t’ help it. He shuddered. Drunk, he reminded himself. She is drunk, she is yer roommate, and she trusts ye.

“Are y’ havin’ a good birthday, Jamie?” she murmured into his clavicle, where her forehead was resting. He couldn’t help smiling. He’d once compared her to a lioness, but right now she was doing a fair impression of a dozy kitten, allowing him to sway their bodies side-to-side in complete contradiction to the music’s rhythm.

“Aye. Aye, I am. And ye, Sassenach? Did I mention how proud I am of ye fer acing yer exams?”

The moist air of her chuckle seeped through his shirt. “Only a dozen times. Thanks for keepin’ me fed and caffeinated whilst I studied. I couldinit have done it wi’out you.”

“Twas my pleasure, Sassenach. We make a braw team.”

He said it offhandedly, but Claire stilled in his arms, leaning back to peer up into his face. There was something there, behind her slightly glazed eyes, that he’d given up hope of ever seeing.

“We do, don’t we?” she whispered, gaze flitting between his eyes and his lips, before skittering away. The humid air of the pub seemed to press in on him from all sides, making it difficult to draw a solid breath. A warning bell began to peel somewhere in his mind, alerting him to the fact he was in very grave danger of making an ass of himself.

She’s no’ yours, lad, he coached himself. No’ unless she wills it, and she canna know her own mind when she’s hammered. He tried to divert the conversation to safer territory.

“Tis good tae see Geillis again. Ye must have missed her somethin’ fierce.”

“Mmmm,” Claire hummed noncommittally. One of the hands that had been resting behind his neck began to thread through his hair, fingernails scraping lines of pleasure into his scalp. Christ, that wasn’t helping his cause at all.

“Claire...” he entreated into the scant space between them. Her long legs had somehow become entangled with his own. She was practically riding his thigh. Another few inches, and she was going to come into contact with the only part of him that was enthusiastic about dancing with a beautiful lass.

“I think iz time y’ take me home, James Fraser,” the limpet formerly known as his roommate purred in his ear. Thank Christ. Another few minutes of that sultry upright writhing, and he might have taken her right there on the beer-stained table in front of the darts board.

Navigating Claire’s increasingly pliant body towards the door and the salvation of the cool night air, Jamie ran directly into the diminutive roadblock of her best friend. Pulling him aside, she grabbed him by the shoulder and dragged his head down to her level.

“I ken she’s yer roommate and ye look at her as though she’s the sun after a thousand days o’ rain, but she’s my best friend an’ I love her. She’s scared, but she trusts ye. Dinna fuck it up.”

Without awaiting a reply, Geillis spun around and returned to their table. When he turned towards Claire, she was giving him a peculiar look. He shrugged it off as nothing more than inebriation, and started the short three-legged stumble back to their flat.

“Ye know, Sassenach, this is twa times I’ve had tae practically carry ye home from tha’ pub. Ye’re a verra predictable drunk.” They were navigating Brick Lane with a heavy list to starboard, where Claire leaned heavily into his side.

“First of all, milad, I am. Not. Drunk. You canned be drunk if y’ can shtill walk upright. Thas your rule, may I remind you.” Mid-lecture, the heel of her boot caught between two cobbles. She would have gone down in a heap were he not already bearing most of her weight. “Ooops!”

“An’ second of all,” she continued undaunted, “when didyu carry me again? Since? Fuck! Before?”

He chuckled. If nothing else, Claire was a very amusing drunk.

“Twas the first night we met, actually. Ye were shipping out tae Afghanistan the verra next day.”

They’d reached their front door. He was fumbling for his keys when he noticed Claire had gone remarkably silent. Even in the yellow glow of the hallway, her face was incredibly pale.

“Are ye alright, Sassenach? Are ye gonna be sick?”

What came out of her mouth next was even worse.

“You fucked Geillis. That night. In our shower.”

Golden eyes interrogated him, tearing away any hope of evasion. Gone was the cuddly kitten, and the lioness was on the hunt for blood. Christ, he was going to kill Geillis for sharing intimate details of their one-night stand. Assuming he lived to see tomorrow.

She trusts ye. Dinna fuck it up.

His father had an aphorism he was fond of repeating. Being an adult has little to do with your actions, he would say, and everything to do with living with the consequences of those actions. Any callow lad could stick his cock in a lass, but it took a man to live up to his responsibilities thereafter.

“Aye. I did. Twasn’t planned, nor somethin’ I’m particularly proud of, but thas’ the truth of it. It didna mean anything, Sassenach. Twas jus’ sex.”

They were inside the flat now. He was mentally trying to evaluate whether it was safe for Claire to shower, or if he should simply tuck her into bed with a basin and some Gatorade. She wasn’t moving, though. She stood in the streetlight that illuminated their living space, a disheveled, beautiful mess.

“It’s my turn.” She sounded sober, all of a sudden. He poured a tall glass of cold water from the sink for her, regardless.

“Yer turn fer what, Sassenach?”

“My turn for you to fuck me.”

There was a hollow thunk and the cool splash of water against the cuffs of his trousers as the glass he had been holding hit the floor. His chest felt like he was trying to suck cake batter through a straw. To make matters worse, while he was in the kitchen she had shed her top and was standing in a sheer black bra, the peaks of her nipples cast in silvered shadow.

“Claire...” he breathed out.

She approached slowly, extending a hand to lay over his sprinting heart.

“Don’t you want me?” Asked by any other woman, the question would be coy, but he heard the truth behind her query. She really didn’t know. Either he was a better actor than he gave himself credit for, or she was still seeing him through the filter of her past mistreatment.

“So much tha’ it hurts tae breath, lass. But ye dinna want this, Claire. No’ now.” His body was already protesting his declaration, a pulsing ache centered in his balls, but rooted in his heart.

“It’s now or never now, Jamie. This is all that I have to give. Isn’t it enough?”

She took his hand and placed it over the scalloped seam of her breasts. Without volition, his fingers curled, testing the pliant firmness beneath them. His muscles ached from holding himself in check.

“Tis far more than I deserve, Sassenach. But the answer is no.” He pulled his hand away, his fingertips still tingling from the velvet of her skin. “Ye should get some sleep.”

Her glass face showed every emotion, each more painful to witness than the last: hurt, anger, embarrassment, spite, and finally betrayal. Mumbling a hasty goodnight, she practically ran to her own room. He could hear her there now, sobs muffled by the wall he placed between them.

Dinna fuck it up.

He cradled his throbbing head in his hands. How could doing the right thing turn out so horribly, spectacularly wrong?

***

May 21, 2018, Spitalfields, London, England

It has been twenty days since Claire’s drunken proposition, and they’d barely spoken a word to each other in that time. As much as he was prepared for awkwardness to descend upon their once-easy relationship, he was shocked by how much her avoidance pained him. Couldn’t she see that he’d acted out of affection, and as her friend, ignoring the very great temptation she’d lain at his feet?

His first strategy had been to give her space. He snatched at any excuse to be out of the flat: long runs, a pint after work with the lads, and even a long weekend with his family at Lallybroch. Each day his phone was a constant weight in his hand, waiting for the moment she would text him about something bizarre she’d read, or call to ask where he’d hidden the olive oil. She never rang.

Next he tried haunting their flat, planning to bump into her and force that first, clumsy conversation. He was certain that once they got past that hurdle, they could begin to rebuild their rapport. Almost certain. Desperately certain. She didn’t come home, working double shifts at the hospital and timing her visits for a shower, nap and change of clothes to coincide with his work shifts. One night he fell asleep on the couch listening for the sound of her key in the door. He woke the next morning covered in the plaid from his bed, but once again alone.

He sat in an outdoor cafe, watching London unfold under the warming sun like a rose, and considered what he knew about Claire that would help mend the breach. She was stubborn. The past twenty days were testimony of that. She was proud. She would sooner suffer than accept help. She held herself to incredibly high standards, and hated to fail at anything. She would have taken his rejection in the worst possible light. She’d been badly hurt and deceived. Their relationship had been one cautious step after another across the tightrope of trust strung between them. Fueled by drunken emotion, she’d leapt forward, and he had not been there to catch her.

He opened his phone and stared at her photo in his contacts. She’d been furious with him the day he snapped it. He’d dragged her to a park on her day off to play rugby, only to find out the match had been cancelled on account of the heavy rain. Heavy ringlets hung over a soaking jersey, and her glowing eyes promised swift revenge.

A dozen flowery or flippant texts were considered and abandoned before he opted for the simple and true.

I’m sorry. I know I hurt you, and I want to make it better. Please tell me how.

He pocketed his phone and crossed the road to the fire station for his evening shift. If she hadn’t answered by the morning, he’d try again, and keep trying until she finally responded.

Twelve hours later, dawn was just cracking the sky as he prepared to walk home. The station alarm rang out, but the day crew would take the call. Even now, they were throwing on their gear and firing up the engine.

“Corbet Place. Isn’t that your neighbourhood, Fraser?” the driver commented as he hastened past.

Ice water flushed into his veins. There were exactly two buildings on Corbet Place, and one of them contained a flat where a beautiful Sassenach was currently sleeping off a double shift. A beautiful Sassenach who could sleep through a fire alarm.

He hoisted himself into the cab of a departing engine.

“Hey lad, this isn’t a taxi!” one of old hands joked, but sobered when he saw Jamie’s face.

The streets were empty. They made the trip in record time that felt like an eternity to his racing heart. As they drew near, the reek of a burning structure filled the air. A half dozen other engines were parked haphazardly in the adjacent lot, their booms extending like insect antennae towards a cruelly familiar five-story brick building. Flames licked the corner of one of the lower levels, punctuated by the pop of shattering glass and the skeletal groan of old beams giving way.

Grabbing a spare coat, hat and respirator, he ran towards his building, ignoring every professional protocol and ounce of common sense he possessed. Claire was in their flat, and there wasn’t a power under the sun that would keep him from getting to her.

“Jamie!”

He spun towards her voice, thinking he might be hallucinating. But no, sitting on a picnic table, wrapped in his Fraser plaid, was his beautiful Sassenach. His knees turned to water and he sank to the bitumen at her feet.

“Claire...” he wheezed, adrenaline still coursing through his limbs.

“Were you on your...”

“How did ye...”

They both spoke, then lapsed back into stunned silence.

“Ye’re safe.” He said it as much to himself as to her. “Ye’re here. I thought.. when I heard the call... Christ, Sassenach. I’ve never been sae scared in my entire life. How did ye get out?”

“I got your text. I was dozing on the couch, waiting for you to come home so we could talk. The fire alarm woke me. There was already so much smoke. I used your plaid to cover my nose and mouth and ran down the fire escape. Oh Jamie, I’m so sorry.”

Claire’s chin fell towards her chest, a lone tear streaking through the soot that marked her cheek. He ran a shaking hand through her unbound hair.

“Why are ye sorry, Sassenach?”

“All your things. Your memories. They were all in that flat.”

He tilted her up by the chin.

“Claire, look at me. There isn’t a feckin thing in tha’ flat that I care about that isna sitting in front of me right now. Jesus, woman, do ye no’ ken the thought of losing ye tears out my guts?”

She looked deeply into his eyes, peering into his very soul. For once, he did not think to hide behind a mask. Let her see how she utterly destroyed and remade him. All around them, the world faded to smoke.

“You... you love me?”

Nownownow.

“Aye. I do.”

#my writing #outlander

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psychosistr · 4 years ago

Photo

SHUSH/FOWL Double Agent “Maravilla”

Art by @thefriendlyfour (thanks for the character designs, and thanks to @starlightmoth for help with the dress designs!), full bio below the cut.

Physical Description: A tall and lovely purplish jay with purple feathers across most of her body except for the black feathers on her chest, neck, and most of her head. “Hair” feathers are two-toned with the outside/top being black and the inside being purple. While working for SHUSH, her hair is kept tied up in a bun that only shows the black part of her hair as per protocol to keep it neat, but one long, wavy strand of black bangs always hangs down on the right side of her face. While working for FOWL or off the clock, she figuratively and literally lets her hair down and reveals her true colors in a natural Bolivian-style loose wave with both colors of hair on full display. Beak is purple with black lipstick while in her FOWL outfit.

Outfit: Has two main outfits that she’s seen in- one for SHUSH and one for FOWL.

Her SHUSH outfit is in the standard grey suit-style with a white button-up shirt beneath the traditional grey coat. Skirt ends just above her knees and has pockets below her black leather belt with a circular silver buckle. Accessories are kept simple while working with SHUSH, sticking to black french-heel style back-seam stockings, black loafer-style heels, silver oval-framed glasses, a black neck tie with a white ivory marigold-shaped tie pin, and a matching black hair band with a white marigold-shaped piece on the front to hold up her hair bun.

Her FOWL outfit is a far cry from her SHUSH one, going with a stream-lined but figure-flattering red sleeveless asymmetrical halter-top dress. The bottom of her gown is lined with black down feathers (she’ll never say if they’re real or fake) and the right side has a black marigold-outlined pattern. Her accessories are much flashier than her SHUSH outfit, too, consisting of a gleaming silver chain-link belt that doubles as a hand-wrap for martial arts when necessary, a golden-chained necklace with a black onyx stone carved into a marigold, matching golden bangles and rings with round onyx stones, sheer black thigh-high stockings with black lace garter belts, and shiny black ankle-strap platform heels with tiny silver marigold-shaped buckles.

Gender: Female

Sexual Orientation: Extremely flirtatious lesbian.

Age: 28

Nicknames: Mara, Mari, Marigold, Vi, Ms.Flores.

Real Name: Marisol Flores

Background:

Born in Bolivia, Marisol Flores lived what many would consider an average life. She had a nice family that wasn’t too cold or too forgiving, lived comfortably middle class, and graduated from high school with good enough grades to get into her desired college with a decent amount of grant money.

While her life was comfortable, Marisol never really held any passion for her studies and quietly worried that she was just doing what was expected of her- something that would eventually lead her to an unsatisfying but stable job with an unsatisfyingly mundane future.

On her way to class one day, though, Marisol’s future took a drastic turn: She took a less crowded route to school and stumbled into a battle between a small team of FOWL and SHUSH agents. At first, she was scared of being caught in the crossfire and possibly dying. Soon, however, that fear turned to excited adrenaline and she realized that, for the first time in her life, she felt truly ALIVE.

After surviving the firefight unnoticed and unharmed, Marisol devoted her time to finding out more about the groups she saw that day. It took a few years and a lot of digging to find out who exactly both FOWL and SHUSH were (most of her methods being less than legal), but the thrill of excitement and danger spurred her on.

Finding connections to both organizations in Calisota, she scraped together her meager savings and bought a one-way ticket to America, leaving her hometown, as well as her family, and never looking back.

Marisol impressed both organizations at different times by locating their bases and asking for membership, proving her cunning and her worth by passing the dangerous tests and trials they put her through.

It’s unknown which organization she allied herself with first, but both believe her to be a double agent that they themselves planted within the enemy’s side- neither group knowing her true intentions or where her loyalties, if she has any, really lie.

Current Position:

Within SHUSH, Agent Maravilla is considered their top informant and “enemy information acquisition specialist”, providing them with information on FOWL’s more diabolical plans and less guarded bases/outposts.

Within FOWL, Agent Maravilla is a valuable mole planting viruses in SHUSH’s computer systems, sending copies of their most confidential documents, and tipping FOWL off to any banks currently providing funds to SHUSH so they can “coincidentally” be robbed later.

Personality:

Maravilla is best defined by three traits: She is secretive, a massive flirt, and an adrenaline junky.

Always keeping people around her at arm’s length to avoid them finding out the true nature of her double-agent status and questioning her intentions, many of her fellow agents on both sides view Maravilla as an elusive and secretive enigma who will be there and gone before they can even blink.

Still, despite her natural stance on keeping her work matters a secret and being resistant to letting anyone in, she can never resist the chance to hit on a beautiful woman. She’s charming and smooth in her approaches, able to make more than a few supposedly straight women reconsider their sexual orientation.

For the ones she’s especially fond of, whether romantically or she just finds them fun to flirt/talk with, she’ll leave them a purple or red marigold as a token of affection/calling card with an otherwise anonymous gift of the lady-in-question’s favorite snack.

Delving even further into Maravilla’s psyche after getting past the secretive enigma and the charming flirt, though, lies a more adventurous side that is still, at its core, the reason she joined both organizations- her love of thrilling, life-or-death situations and the danger that comes with both jobs.

The more deadly the situation she’s in, the happier she is with it, often throwing her enemies off because they don’t know how to deal with someone so excited to nearly die.

“Surrender now or we WILL kill you!”

“Ooooh, really?! Come on then, do it!”

“I..uh...huh? What the heck is wrong with this woman..?”

Still, despite her adrenaline-junky nature, she’s not (completely) suicidal and will still take the opportunity to fight back or escape when it presents itself- often doing so at the last possible second to get the maximum danger-high she craves.

Interesting Bonus Facts:

Speaks Spanish and English on a regular basis, but also speaks Portugese and Aymara from time to time, even if it’s mostly to herself or to swear without being understood.

Fighting style involves quick, sharp slaps and hand-chops combined with devastating elbow strikes and sharp kicks/stomps from her deadly heels.

This style would best be described as the martial art of aikido.

Best example would be Anna Williams from the Tekken series.

Bonus note- she’d totally cosplay Anna given the chance.

In addition to her martial arts skills, she’s also known to keep some deadly backups hidden up her literal and metaphorical sleeves in the form of drugged needles hidden in the long-sleeves of her SHUSH uniform that can knock out enemies or make them hallucinate, as well as a few throwing knives strapped to the lacy garter belts of her FOWL clothing.

Has a soft spot for cheesy romance novellas and telenovelas, and will often be found reading/watching some in her free time or while waiting for a meeting.

Is surprisingly good at football since she played it with her siblings growing up.

Do not ever call it soccer around her or she will kick the ball right into your face.

Has deadly aim, even while wearing heels.

Could totally pull THIS off with ease.

Despite knowing it’s likely an unrealistic fantasy with the way she lives her life, Maravilla really DOES want to get a girlfriend (or possibly more than one, she’s not opposed to polyamory if she likes all parties involved) someday.

#double agent maravilla #dwd oc #dwd #darkwing duck #darkwing duck oc #my OC #Shush #fowl #thefriendlyfour

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manychocolatefactories · 4 years ago

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CatCF Milk Chocolate: Part 1, the kids

About this version: Milk Chocolate was inspired originally by a mix of the book, the vibes of the 1971 movie and the Tim Burton movie aesthetic. A bit more goofier and whimsical than the other versions. In term of era, I thought of it as a mix of 1960s, 1970s and 1980s.

In this version seven Golden Tickets are spread throughout the world, and each time one is found the same female reporter (her character is a reference to the musical) goes to interview the children. Another recurring joke is that while the hunt is going on for the Tickets, there are all sorts of ridiculous debates on television such as: do the Golden Tickets really exist, or is this just a hoax ? Do the Golden Tickets give cancer? Can animals go on a tour like humans? What happens if a Golden Ticket winner dies before the tour? Are the Golden Tickets linked to the rise of youht delinquence? Are the Golden Tickets a proof of Wonka's alleagiance to the obscure sect of the Golden Bird?

First Winner: Augustus Gloop

(Based on Augustus Gloop)

This Augustus was actually based on an idea Stained-by-the-sea allowed me to "borrow" a bit. Stained noted that Augustus always made him thought of this section from the movie "North", about Buck and the Texan parents. If you don't know what I am talking about, I'll leave links down there. And this is such a perfect matc I had to dig a bit down there.

This Augustus is basically a mix of all the archetypes associated with Texas and Nevada. But more precisely, he is basically "Buck" from North - a boy whose family (and his own mindset) embody the motto "bigger is better".

The Gloop family always thought that they should be "the biggest and the bests" and that "bigger is better". Ironically, the Gloop parents themselves are regular-sized people, but they clearly enforced this mentality on their son. Augustus is a big boy. Literally. He is tall, he is thick, he is fat, he is very, very big. He is probably one of the tallest, and definitively the largest boy on the tour (in fact, he once or twice gets stuck in the doors of Wonka factory). He eats ten meals per day, and we are not talking of regular sized meals. We are talking piles of ribs, kilos of potatoes, entire chickens... His parents also prepared for him a "big" and "best" future - paying the local sportive teams to claim he is a sports champion despite Augustus never setting a foot on a sports field, arranging his marriage with the local beauty queen of the state he lives in, already preparing the three different houses he will live with his fifteen kids... As a result, Augustus isn't just big and fat physically, he also has a massive and bloated ego. He thinks that he is the best at everything, and that he should have absolutely everything he wants.

The Gloops themselves are actually the masters of the state they live in, so to speak. They are the wealthiest and most influential industrials of the area: they built highways, casinos, hotels, private villas, they are cow-farmers, owing a lot of slaughterhouses, and also dig for oil and gold. They want their business to be the "biggest there ever was" and all they do is exaggerately big: their villas are enormous, their hotels are everywhere, their farms hosts several thousands cows, their mines are among the deepest in the world...

Trouble is that, due to their expansion and consumption of everything, they are a threat to the landscape and the environment - destroying forests to build their roads and buildings, drying out the lands to feed their farms... in fact, part of the reason why their state looks like the most desertic parts of Texas and Nevada is due to their actions.

Think... Buck from North. Think Art Land from Mar Attack. Think an evil (and obese) version of Clay Bailey from "Xiaolin Showdown". In fact, if I remember well in one episode Clay turns into a sumo for one of the Showdowns... this would probably be Augustus' appearance in this version: sumo Clay Bailey. (Edit: Yes, I checked out, it is episode 23 of the series).

Second Winner: Clarence Crump

(Based on: Clarence Crump)

Clarence didn't had any kind of personnality in the original drafts outside of a desire to prove he was right. As a result, I decided to have a lot of fun and create my own character.

The idea of vanity has already been touched several times with the other brats, but I wanted to give it its own character and kid. I also wanted to create a polar opposite of Augustus, denouncing the fact that being skinny can be just as bad as being fat when in excess. As a result, Clarence Crump is here a boy obsessed about being thin, and proud of being too skinny for his own good.

Mr. Crump is a pseudo-health guru that keeps writing phony and very dangerous diet books, the kind that will advice you to stop eating altogether to lose weight. As for Mrs. Crump, she is a beauty pageant champion (local and regional, and while she acts as if she was some national beauty champion, she always failed at nationals). From their union was born a child who inherited their vanity, pride and obsession with "health"

Black haired, very pale, very thin, very slender, to the point his bones show, Clarence delights in being skinny, and works as a teenager model promoting the "thin-fashion". He is also the embodiment of fat-shaming, never missing an occasion to insult fat people (in fact he often calls Augustus a big fat cow). He uses however the excuse of health for that (a trick his parents taught him) - promoting extreme thinness by talking about health and fat-shaming people in the name of health allows one to be much more horrible than normally accepted.

A good proof of how Clarence actually is just very vain and obsessed with being thin, and not at all defending health - Clarence condemns sports for being unhealthy, because according to him "muscles are unhealthy because they don't make you look beautiful, they make you look ugly".

He always wears short and black sleeveless tank-tops, the point being that he needs to show as much as his body to the world as possible, to be a "living example". He even wears his black short and tank-top during the tour (despite it being winte - the only thing he wears on top of his clothes to not get cold is a skunk fur coat).

Third Winner: Miranda Grope

(Based on: Miranda Grope)

This character was based on Dahl's own character of "Miranda Grope" from early drafts of the story, the horrible and atrocious girl allowed to do "whatever she wants".

In my version, the Grope parents are hippie-like people, the father having a very long beard and being covered in fleas, while the mother is covered in flowers and oss (plants that grew over her), and both always wearing rose-tinted glasses. They are the kind of parents that refuse authority and orders, seeing these (and social norms as a whole) as a "dictatorship". They prefer to trust their daughter to find her own way in the world, believing that experience is the best teacher in life. The result? They lazily raised her by telling her they would never forbid her anything and that she could do anything she wanted.

Miranda is a devilish little girl who does only what she wants, and becomes extremely violent when prevented from doing something. Or when people say something she doesn't want to hear. Or just when people she dislikes are near her. She shouts, the screams, she insult, she kicks, she hit, she throw enormous and terrifying tantrums. She has a very wide range of insults, and a truly evil mind : most of the things she wants to do are borderline crimes. It seems for her only chaos and destruction is "fun", a true little punk.

Miranda has a disastrous haircut because she cuts her hair herself, and she is always wearing the same clothes that she rarely washes): a white shirt, a blue sweater with long sleeves, and a plaid tiles skirt. An outfit that looks strikingly like a school uniform - but it is pure irony, because Miranda hates more than anything in the world school. She doesn't go to school, and the only time she went near one was to try to burn it down. (Her appearance is in fact based on Lauren Child's illustrations for Miranda, if you are wondering).

Fourth Winner: Veruca Salt

(Based on: Veruca Salt)

For this Veruca, I wanted to do something slightly different... here, Veruca doesn't want everything just because she is a spoiled rich brat. She is still one, but she is also the product of post-WW2 consumerism.

This Veruca was born surrounded by advertisements, logos, slogans and product placements. On television, in the streets, in shops, in journals, at the radio... She grew up with them and was influenced, brainwashed by them. As a result, she is obsessed with obtaining everything that was advertised, and she herelf looks like a walking billboard since she is covered in big, flashy logo and keeps reciting different brands' slogans and mottos. As soon as she sees something she saw publicity of before, she needs to obtain it at once. She is a true zombie, only hearing the call of the shopping mall and of the television advertisements.

One idea I had was that the Salt parents actually worked for (or where at the head of) a wealthy advertisement company, known to produce, design and create all kinds of famous publicities and slogans - and that they used their daughter as a guinea pig for their tests, and delighted in Veruca being so addicted to consumerism. In fact, they may have named her Veruca because at the moment of her birth they were working on advertisements for an anti-wart product, so that's all they had in mind.

Fifth winner: Herpes Trout

(Based on: Mike Teavee)

I went with this version of Mikee Teavee with the focus on "violence" already present in the original work, but also heavily used in the opera (and touched a bit in the 2005 movie).

This Herpes Trout is the embodiment of the fear of kids becoming violent upon watching television and playing video games (his only two passions in life). He has a true fascination with guns and firearms - US soldiers shooting aliens, gangs shooting each other, cowboys shooting at bandits, it's all he ever plays and watches. Herpes worships violence, and is absolutely obsessed with war (here I am thinking of all the wars present from the 60s to the 80s, the Korean War, the Vietnam War, the Glasgow Ice Cream Wars...). War propaganda and the fight being glorifyed heavily influenced him - as a result his biggest dream is to go at war in some foreign country to kill everyone there and come home a hero.

Herpes comes from a family of rednecks and hillbillies from the deep country. They are not poor however, they are wealthy enough to have television and several video games, but they are uneducated people full of stereotypes, discrimination and hate. They named their son Herpes because they ignored what it meant but just thought of it as an "intelligent" name. Herpes has everal brothers and sisters, and all have a disease name.

Herpes himself is a big and strong kid, who followed body-buildings process a la Charles Atlas and military training, becoming impressively muscular. However, he retained a soft, childish and chubby "baby face", which kind of ruins the effect of this massive, muscular, almost adult body. Always dressed in a military outfit, he carries everywhere with him guns and firearms, the question being: are they real? Or are they not?

Sixth Winner: Violet Glockenberry

(Based on Violet Beauregarde)

I wanted with this version to take back the idea of a competitive and "sportive" girl obsessed with contesting and winning - introduced in the Tim Burton movie.

This Violet is a tall, muscular and strong girl. She won numerous sportive competitions, but this doesn't make her just arrogant and prideful like in the Tim Burton version. In my version she is also very aggressive and violent (a bit like in the original novel). She is a nasty and rude bully easily prone to anger (in fact, if she keeps chewing gum it is mostly to calm her down sot hat she doesn't punch everyone around). Her parents originally pushed her towards competitions to manage her anger issues, but sports only gave her more strength and destructive power. In fact, they became terrified of her, while she considers them losers here to serve her - she basically thinks of herself as self-made, literaly.

Seventh Winner: Charlie Bucket

(Based on: Charlie Bucket)

For this Charlie, I wanted to go with a Charlie similar to the original illustrations of the character: blond hair, blue eyes, a white boy...

Basically, he is the original Charlie. Very sweet, very innocent, a gentle kid, the best of the group.

However I changed slightly his background. Charlie in this version is not the grandson of four grandparents, but rather the big brother of four younger siblings - and his family here struggles with trying to feed five children (and a total of seven mouths) despite having very humble and low-paid jobs. I think Charlie has taken the role of a parentive figure for the siblings, but at the same time him spending so much time with young children helped him keep in touch with his "childish" side.

#charlie and the chocolate factory #catcf #milk chocolate #retelling #charlie bucket #violet beauregarde #mike teavee #augustus gloop #veruca salt #miranda grope #clarence crump

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peccolias · 4 years ago

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Prompt from @mermaidelephant :

Two of your characters have to infiltrate the estate of a noble obsessed with fashion. How would they dress and how comfortable/uncomfortable would they be in their new clothes? How do they feel about the noble’s fashion hobby?

This had to be one of the more…interesting…tasks Mitsuba and Gen had encountered during their hunt for two particular Uchiha men. Hints of their whereabouts had taken them to strange places, but this was by far the strangest—and, perhaps, the most dangerous. Nobles weren’t to be trifled with, after all. Not openly, and especially not by two rogue shinobi connected to one of the most well-known clans of the land, uninvited and unwelcome.

Ah, if Butsuma or her brothers caught wind of this…

But, no. Intel was intel. If Mitsuba worried before there was a problem, it would only distract her from their goal.

There had been reports of an eccentric and grossly wealthy noblewoman called Tenryū Momoka hiring the Uchiha clan to guard the caravans that brought her deliveries of extravagant riches and garments thieves would fetch a pretty penny from—if they could make it out alive. Uchiha presence, though, summarily ended any pilfering.

The reports, however, were only rumors. They needed proof. Receipts, correspondence, sightings… Anything that would lay the next stepping stones and set their search on the right path. And, in order to get that information, they had to play a part.

Namely...

Infiltrating the noblewoman’s manor as one of her several well-dressed and perhaps equally noble guests.

It wasn’t a huge issue as far as appearances went—everyone wore a mask on the manor grounds during the so-called ‘one-hundred day festival,’ so their identities were safely concealed.

The masks resembled those the future ANBU would wear. Porcelain. A bit heavy. In the shapes of fox faces and cats and boars. The ones Mitsuba conjured up through her wood release and painted with swift and sharp smears of paint, however, were much lighter and only noticeably different if someone got much too up close and personal. The lenses of her glasses did press up against the eyeholes uncomfortably, but she wouldn’t have to bear it for long. They’d be quick. In and out in less than an hour. Any longer, and they ran the risk of getting caught.

“I can hardly fathom this type of lifestyle,” Gen muttered at her side, keeping close perhaps not out of necessity, but because they were both adrift in this strange and whimsical world of fashion and faceless forms that seemed so detached from their reality, and if they drifted too far away from each other they may never find their way back. They’d be forever lost, flitting about and chatting and laughing and drinking. “This is a waking nightmare, Mitsu.”

“Only if you think of it that way. But it is definitely distasteful.” She eyed him curiously through the narrow eyeholes of her mask, wondering if he’d ask why she had no trouble with lace-up strings or buttons or frills or the more restrictive seams of these ‘strange and foreign’ fashions when he himself seemed to squirm and itch to return to his sleeveless top and haori and loose-fitting pants. It hadn’t been easy, tracking down the woman’s past stolen outfits, but it had been a stroke of luck that they only needed minor alterations to fit well.

Whoever Tenryū Momoka was, she had access to the far corners of the world, not limited to their land or their culture alone. Western styles Mitsuba was familiar with, once upon a time and likely forever, rang true in fitted pants and double-breasted coats lined with golden embroidered accents. And the full, satin skirts of what could have been Victorian or Georgian-era gowns. She’d never cared to learn the distinction—and, besides, in this world, they probably had different names. Something that even resembled an intricate and flowing Indian sari was displayed by one of the masked guests among them.

If she and Gen hadn’t been dressed in the same vibrant hues and patterns as everyone else, their drab and neutral forest-tones would have stuck out like two sore thumbs.

She did wonder, though, if Momoka had gifted these outfits to her fellow nobles as costume or if they were only on loan until the festivities reached their end. Festivities that also had influences from far-away, much bolder and free than what she’d come to know in this world.

Moving through the crowd, however, was simple due exactly to that boldness and freedom. No one noticed two guests slipping away into the shadows of the manor halls, where the world fell still, and almost quiet, when the doors were closed and when they crept further and further in so that the sounds and music outside were nothing but a whisper.

Inside the manor—inside was possibly worse. More than a manor, she’d go so far as to call it a museum, expertly crafted and curated and creepy, with a plethora of fashions that mirrored those found outside and included headwear, hats, and styled wigs. Some hung up on display boards, some fitted to wooden mannequins—

Gen gripped her shoulder as they came to a halt in the middle of the strange exhibit. “We may have made a mistake coming here.”

“Have you always been such a scaredy-cat, Gen-sensei? It’ll be over soon.”

Mitsuba opened the nearest door—and wished she hadn’t.

She stood before the rows upon rows of fanned-out kimonos suspended on stand-up hanging racks and briefly felt the sting of a not-so-far-off memory that involved her late mother’s own garment. No—not so much a sting, but a shiver that raced down her spine. The colors of the fanciful garb before her took on dull, cool silver and blue hues all awash in the hazy hauntings of the past that no longer, if ever, welcomed her.

She closed the door with a definitive snap. “…Let’s not go in there.”

“Who did you say was a ‘scaredy-cat,’ again?” Gen eyed her with a wry smile, but she ignored it and crept to the next room with purpose.

No matter how many doors they opened, the contents were much the same. No signs of a study, of personal quarters, of a library, or anything useful, and their time ran short.

It wasn’t ideal, but…

Until the hundred days of revelry were up, they had quite a few chances to return and run a thorough search.

#mermaidelephant #peccolia writes stuff #3leaves (fanfic)#senju mitsuba (oc)#amane genshiro (oc)#i HAD to cut this short otherwise i could've written an entire chapter about it i was so enamored with the premise #maybe i'll incorporate it into a future chapter actually idk idk #thanks for sending in the request :D i had fun writing #long post

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tsarinastorm · 4 years ago

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AA: Ashes to Ashes-Adam Sackler/Reader-Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Adam listens, or attempts to listen to the current man in the front of the room talking about his battle with gambling addiction and alcoholism. But paying attention is difficult for Adam at the moment because Y/N is sitting beside him, looking perfect, and the smell of her perfume is enough to disorient him. Today she smells like roses, jasmine, and coffee. They’ve hung out a couple times, mostly over coffee, and talked as friends do. Adam found it comforting knowing that he had someone he could talk to, rant to, and spend time with. Of course, Adam never had many friends before, but he assumes those are the hallmarks of friendship. It would much easier if he didn’t want to be more than friends with Y/N, he had to constantly remind himself not to cross that line with her. He didn’t want to lose her as a friend.

His struggle is made worse by the fact that Jessa is sitting on his other side, watching him squirm out of the corner of her eye. Since he’s been hanging out with Y/N and developed feelings for her, he’s thought about ending things with Jessa but he knows there’s a chance that Y/N won’t want anything to do with him anymore if he does that. She might take Jessa’s side. He thinks if he lets Jessa be the one to end it, it may be better for his chances with Y/N or he considers waiting until he knows that Y/N has feelings for him too. In the meantime, things will remain same.

The man finishes talking, and everyone claps for him, including Jessa and Y/N. After the meeting, Y/N and Jessa go the restroom, together, as women normally do, and he goes over the snack table. He scoops some cookies, racing towards the ones he knows are Y/N’s favorites before they’re all taken. As Jessa and Y/N walk up to him, a man stops Y/N and tells her how he was inspired by what she had said at the last meeting. This man keeps touching Y/N’s arm and Adam can’t help but glare, then he finally interrupts them to hand her the cookies.

“Here, I got these for you,” he tells her and the man waves then briskly leaves. Y/N takes the cookies and says, “Thanks, these are my favorites, and I think he’s getting way too attached to me.”

“Oh yes you will have a sober buddy for life,” Adam says back and wants to kick himself for sounding lame. Y/N takes a bite of the cookie and tells him, “I can’t believe you don’t cookies or sweets, you’re like a tall alien.”

“Yes he is. It looks like I’ve found someone else to pawn Bill off on.” Jessa chuckles talking about both Adam and the other man, and she jokingly bumps into Y/N. They keep chatting for some time, then when they walk out of the building, Y/N hugs Jessa then heads the other way. Adam is disappointed that he didn’t get to talk to her more, he must have been looking sad because Jessa questions him, “You do know that doesn’t bother me?”

“What doesn’t bother you?” He asks because he’s not sure he’s understanding Jessa correctly. She watches Y/N walk away and holds his hand before answering, “You hanging out with her. It’s good for you. You need a friend.”

“Thanks,” he says and gives her a slight smile, then they walk back to the apartment as Jessa chatters away but his mind is elsewhere.

*********

Adam waits outside the building, knowing that Y/N will walk out soon. She told him to meet here before they hang out. Apparently she volunteers once a week here and it makes Adam feel like an asshole who doesn’t care about other people. Y/N walks out and Adam greets her.

“Hey, kid.” He makes a mental note to come up with a different nickname for her. She smiles and joins him. Before they make it down the block she stops to say, “I’ve got to stop at my place to take my dog for a walk if you don’t mind.”

He actually likes dogs and has wanted one of his own for a while, though preferably one that would work better than the one he had for a few days before he and Ray had to take him back to his owner. He can’t hide his excitement, “I like dogs, I really like dogs.”

Y/N tucks a piece of hair behind her ear laughing at his response and they keep walking to her place. Adam is surprised to learn that she lives in Nolita, close to where Jessa used to live with Shoshanna. That must have been how they met. When they reach the apartment door, she warns him, “Bagel is still anxious around men. He’s not aggressive or anything, just timid. It might take him a while to warm up to you.”

“Okay, I’ll give him space then,” Adam answers, thinking what the fuck kind of name is Bagel, and as soon as they walk through the door, Adam notices the apartment looks just like he expected it to be. It was very much like Y/N: classy, refined, and a bit eclectic. Books everywhere, comfy couch, candles, and a messy desk. Y/N goes over to the crate to let ‘Bagel’ out, though Adam thought the dog couldn’t have had a more wrong name. Bagel was an Australian shepherd mix who was rather large and had a dark tri-colored, speckled coat, and two different colored eyes. Bagel looks at Adam suspiciously, then follows Y/N back into the apartment kitchen. Y/N comes back with a leash, hooks Bagel up and they leave, though Adam still feels that Bagel is giving the side eye.

They spend a half-hour or so walking around the neighborhood, then they get to a park. After they’ve walked and played which Adam actually enjoyed, Y/N excitedly says, “Oh there’s an ice cream truck, we have to get ice cream!”

“Ick, I don’t like ice cream. It tastes like sweet mucous.” Adam says and tries to hide his disgust. He could suffer through ice cream for her. She doesn’t miss a beat, and isn’t the least bit dismayed by his commentary because she adds, “Good, because I was talking to Bagel anyway.”

He goes with her and she gets two ice cream cones. She’s struggling to eat hers and feed Bagel his at the same time. Adam takes the one that’s meant for Bagel out of her hand and says, “I’ve got it.”

Bagel is hesitant at first then he forgets everything but the ice cream. Y/N smiles watching both of them, and Adam chuckles back watching the dog chow down on what’s left of the cone. Once the ice cream is gone, when they sit down, Bagel is jumping up on Adam, wagging his tail and wanting attention.

“You know I’ve never seen him warm up to anyone like that, especially not a guy.” Y/N says as she works on finishing her cone. Adam says, “The ice cream helped.”

“Are you sure you don’t want a bite?” She teases and offers him her cone. He thinks for a second before taking a lick, then a bite, and somehow it’s more sensual than it should be. He has to think depressing thoughts to keep himself from getting hard. Y/N surely feels it too because her eyes stay locked on his and the tension between them could be cut with a knife. Just as suddenly as the moment happens it ends as Y/N jerks her head away and re-focuses her sight on something else.

She changes the subject by asking him if he ever considered getting his own pet. Truthfully he has, then he’s talked himself out of it. “Yeah but I’m not sure if I’m good at long-term responsibility.” He skirts around the issue.

“You could try getting a succulent.” She says and her eyes light up at the possibility. Meanwhile, Adam is sidetracked by what she said so he asks, “What the fuck is a succulent?”

She laughs for a long time before she explains, “It’s basically the cactus family. You know they don’t need much attention. You could try it, and if it works you could work up to a goldfish.”

“One time I went to Coney Island with Jessa, I won a goldfish and it died before I got it home. I think I shook the bag too much” He tells her, she chuckles again as they start walking back to whatever the next adventure is. She tells him, “So maybe try a few plants first then.”

“I had a goldfish when I was a kid, my sister flushed it to free it or whatever.” He says and the memory still stings. Y/N watches his reaction before saying, “I understand her point but that’s rough. Especially with you being a kid. Was she always like that?”

“Yeah, that’s Caroline. She’s chaotic. One time, when Hannah was trying to mediate between us, she actually had the audacity to suggest that I had repressed sexual feelings or some bullshit for her… that’s what she’s like.” Adam finds himself confessing his life story and all of his family issues in one go with Y/N. She listens to him contently, sometimes chiming in with her own family drama.

“Damn, that’s fucked up. For what’s worth, you don’t seem like that type. That’s something that shouldn’t ever be brought up” Y/N says, trying to comfort him, but Adam finds himself apologizing instead, “Sorry to dump all that shit on you.”

“It’s what friends are for. And, everyone has family issues. Everyone’s family fucks them up in some way.” She says, and Adam’s glad to have her as a friend. Even if he wants more.

************

It was a smothery day in New York, the concrete only made the heat intensified. It was like one of Dante’s rings of hell. You were already wearing a cropped tank top, and linen short-shorts with your hair up. Jessa was wearing a bikini top and shorts, while Adam was wearing a sleeveless shirt and athletic shorts. The three of you were trying to go to a pool, or get down by the water, but it was too crowded. The crowd just made it more miserable. When you walk past a display, you’re drawn to the headline. Apparently, the local theater group is putting on Antigone, one of your favorite plays. You’re too entranced by the flyer to notice that Jessa and Adam have come up beside you.

“You, okay? You just zoned out.” Jessa asks and looks at the flyer. You respond, “Yeah, it’s just one of my favorite plays, I’ll try to make it.”

“Antigone is a classic.” Adam adds. Then Jessa gestures between you and Adam, then declares, “You two should go together. It’s not really my thing so I’ll sit it out.”

“Do you really wanna go?” Adam asks you after he eyes Jessa suspiciously. You know you must look just as stunned as he does. You liked spending time with Adam, the two have developed your own friendship, but you somehow felt like you crossing a line. After all, he’s your friend’s boyfriend. The same friend who’s now pushing you to hang out with said boyfriend. It was made worse by the growing crush you had on Adam, in fact, the crush was hardly a crush anymore, and it was more like real attraction. But you weren’t that girl you reminded yourself.

“Yeah I do, but you don’t have to go with me.” You say, giving him an opportunity to opt out, also giving Jessa a chance to rethink her offer. Neither of them do. Adam runs his hands through his hair then says, “No, I’ll go. It will be fun.” So much for trying to distance yourself, or being worried about over-stepping your place.

******

Tonight you were going to see Antigone with Adam at one of the theaters near his neighborhood. You were both excited and nervous. You enjoyed spending time with him, and wanted to get know more about him, but you knew the more time you were with, the more you’d fall for him. Also, you didn’t want to seem like the girl who took their friend’s boyfriend. You were wearing a strapless jumpsuit that was airy but didn’t look too casual. Adam knocks at your door, and as soon as you let him in, Bagel runs to him. You still can’t believe how fast he took to Adam, and it makes you think about the saying about dogs judging character.

“Hey, I’ll be ready in just a minute. Do you want something to drink? Non-alcoholic of course.” You say. Adam sits on the couch, Bagel joins him with his tail happily wagging. Adam then answers with, “Can I have a glass of milk?”

“Sure.” You were glad that this was a time when you actually had milk in your kitchen. It was honestly the first time a guest wanted a glass, you take the glass to him, and he swallows it loudly. After you’ve put the finishing touches on your look, you tell him you’re ready. He looks you up and down then tells you, “Y/N you look hot…”

“Thanks,” you blush, you’re totally unprepared for his next comment. But you had been around him enough you should have expected it by now. You knew he had a filthy mouth, and was open about those kind of things.

“You trying to get fucked tonight?” You struggle to find a good comeback at first, you eventually settle on, “No, that’s none of your business anyway. But what if I am?”

Before he has a chance to comment back and make you more flustered than you already are, you open the door, motioning for him to walk out. You then put Bagel in his crate and join Adam to head on your way to the theater. It was going to be a long, and potentially frustrating night, judging by how bothered you are.

You and Adam are walking back from the play, chattering about how great the performance was, when you feel something fly in your hair. You try to act cool and get it out, then whatever it is just gets more stuck. Adam at first laughs at your struggle, then his hand is on yours, trying to work whatever it is out of your hair. You notice it’s some kind of bug and you screech.

“Calm down, tiger.” He says and you stand still while he frees whatever creature is trapped in your hair. He brushes your hair behind your ear and your eyes lock onto his. It’s incredibly simple yet intimate and you feel your heart pounding in your chest. You want to kiss him but you know you can’t.

“Did you just call me tiger?” you ask to distract from the sexual tension that’s growing between you. You also never really had any nicknames either so the fact that Adam came up with one for you made you happy.

“Yep, you’re always wear that tiger’s eye thing bracelet.” He says as he backs away to give you space again. His finger reaches for the bracelet, barely tracing the skin of your wrist, and now that’s the only thing you can think about. You force your thoughts back to the bracelet: you’ve had it for a few years and you wear it daily.

“You noticed?” Adam nods his head in response. You then fidget with the bracelet, your hand brushing against his, and tell him, “It’s supposed to bring good fortune, invoke the divine, and offer protection.”

“Has it actually done any of those things?” He asks, and you notice how close his face is to yours. You can feel his breath on your cheek, count every freckle on his face, and you can’t help but notice that his eyes resemble the color of the tiger’s eye.

“I think it has.” The two of you then continue on your way, both avoiding eye contact and putting a few feet between you. It wasn’t as if you had crossed the line, but you were certainly dancing around it.

********

Adam came back to the apartment after a particularly bad day on set, and it already seems that Jessa is in some kind mood. She’s waiting on the couch, her posture tense, so he breezes by her to get to the kitchen. As he pours himself a glass of milk, Jessa pounces. Her mouth latches on to his neck while her hand reaches for his dick. He’s caught so off-guard that he moves away, and that was clearly the wrong response. He’s always pissing her off anymore anyway. Adam’s starting to think that Jessa’s waiting for him to fuck up in some way that she can use a pretext for an argument.

“What the hell is going on with you? We barely talk, we hardly fuck anymore, and you totally moved away from me!” Jessa shouts at him. He knows he’s been zoned out, but he’s busy with his career and his relationship with Jessa is becoming a burden. Was there any easy way to tell her that the relationship felt like an unnecessary strain on him, or that he’s falling for her friend? He decides not to, and he answers back with, “I’m busy, I’m fucking stressed when I come home. Then as soon as I come home, you wait for me to do something then pounce!”

“It’s like you don’t even notice me anymore!” Jessa screams back at him, and he’s tuning her out. Same old, same old. How he doesn’t listen to her, pay attention to her, or fuck her like he used to. As he continues with his glass of milk, no longer arguing back with her, she disappears into the bedroom. She soon comes back out with a bag and tells him, “I’m leaving for a while, if you fucking care at all!”

*****

The desk in your apartment is full of paper work, you can hardly see your laptop, and you finally removed the coffee mug and glass of water from the danger zone. Bagel watches you apprehensively from the couch as you get up to stretch a bit. You have to finish this draft then you’re going to an art gallery and out with some friends. You’re not able to go out like you used to since you have to remain sober, but you still need to de-stress. You’re suddenly alerted by the buzz in your apartment.

The person on the other side is Jessa, asking if she can come in. Once inside, she crashes on your couch like it’s hers and Bagel seems unbothered by her.

“What’s up?” You rummage on your desk, even more conscious about the fact that it’s a disaster now that someone’s here. As she grabs your Roku remote she tells you, “Adam and I had a fight again. It’s like he doesn’t even see me anymore.”

“I’m sorry that sucks. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want. I’m going to be working then going out.” You get back to working on your draft, while Jessa tells you about her fight with Adam, asking for your thoughts. Talking actually helps you work sometime because silence allows your mind to wander.

After you complete the draft, you hop in the shower, and sit at your vanity doing your hair and makeup. Jessa is perched on your bed, chatting away as you tell her about your friends and she tells you about hers. The one she talks about the most is Hannah, you don’t even know Hannah but you’re exhausted and irritated by her.

“Are you worried about going out tonight? Being around alcohol again?” Jessa asks and you answer honestly.

“I’m nervous about it but as long as I don’t drink anything, I’ll be fine. The long-term goal is to be able to socially drink again.”

“Sobriety sucks. It’s definitely the harder path.” She shares the sentiment, then someone else is buzzing in. None of your friends are supposed to coming here, you’re all supposed to meet up somewhere, and you have no online shopping packages coming today.

It’s Adam, shit, you think. Jessa and Adam, who are fighting in your apartment, this was going to be interesting. Adam strolls in like he owns the place then is stunned when he sees Jessa standing there.

“What are you doing here?” he asks her and she asks him the same thing.

“I’m here visiting my friend, what’s your excuse?” She says combatively, crossing her arms.

“Both of you need to talk about your problems.” You say and hope they’ll try to listen. You really need to get going.

“Okay, well Adam doesn’t seem to care about me at all anymore.” Jessa says and you decide to keep playing mediator. Calmly you place yourself in the middle of them “Thanks for sharing your feelings, Jessa. Adam, what do you need to talk about?”

“I’m busy and I don’t want to talk all the time, sorry I take my damn job seriously!” He shouts, throwing his arms in the air.

“Okay, well I tried. I need to get going, so don’t trash the place and lock up when you leave.” You say as you quickly head towards the door, you’re already ten minutes. You seriously wondered what Adam was doing with Jessa, and what the two of them were doing holding to their relationship that was pretty clearly a disaster. You could really use a drink right now.

#adam sackler #adam sackler x reader #adam driver #adam sackler x you #hbo girls #reader insert

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ngame989 · 5 years ago

Text

“Enough” - TGG SVTFOE Fanfic Collection Ch. 11

Writing: @ngame989

Art: @toxicpsychox

Musical Arrangement: @ubercelloczar

Editing: @ubercelloczar, @seddm

Alternate fic links - FFnet, AO3

Summary: Star, Marco, Tom, and Janna reflect on their pasts, arrive at a crossroads in the present, and make decisions about their futures when Echo Creek Academy hosts a dance with an uncannily familiar theme.

Comic Page

Masterpost

Merry Christmas, happy holidays, happy New Year! This is a very special chapter, slightly breaking the tradition of having its poster be a Polaroid photo (though one of those will be coming soon lol). Also, this was inspired by an actual real life event, Google the date for yourself. MASSIVE thanks to my friend @ubercelloczar for the musical arrangement - I can’t embed it partway through so I’ll just link it when the time comes. Hope you enjoy!

Red. All these years, and she was just now realizing how little red there was in her expansive collection of outfits. Star could probably count on one hand the number of times she’d worn anything in that color besides Marco’s oversized hoodies. Though for all intents and purposes she’d moved into Marco’s room over a year ago, most of her clothes were still kept in her old room at Angie’s insistence. You leave pajamas in the mailbox ONE TIME and suddenly everyone’s all “please use a closet, Star.” Her fingers fondly brushed over the fabrics of dozens of dresses and skirts she owned. The turquoise with the narwhal? Timeless classic, though a bit worse for wear after so many life or death incidents on Mewni. Purple with suspenders? Eh, not so much… for whatever reason she just hadn’t felt like wearing that in a while. Her sleeveless sky blue dress, on the other hand, had made its way back into her rotation after the dimensions cleaved. Why, she couldn’t say, though she tended to skip the leg warmers these days. The pink overalls with the cute skirt were one of her favorite buys on Earthni - the perfect blend of dimensional fashions.

Minutes passed as she reminisced, her wardrobe a library unveiling its stories as her eyes roved its contents. One random winter night came to mind at the sight of her rarely used fuzzy yellow jammies. The heater had been on the fritz, so she and Marco had cuddled up even closer than normal. Her brain had been too frozen to think straight at the time, but in hindsight it was one of her favorite memories - spending all night watching movies with family, hot cocoa by the gallon, and holding Marco tight did more to warm her soul than any heater ever could. Some more notable memories were captured in the attire too, like the lavender dress she’d planned to wear to her first school dance before ditching it to resurrect a clown; the Love Sentence concert tee she’d made; her green dinosaur dress, captured forever on that fateful photo strip.

Experiences shared with Marco stood out among the rest - they usually did anyway, but tonight perhaps more than most, and for good reason. She’d once obsessed over a tattered, stinky hoodie of his as a source of calm and stability for some of the harshest weeks in her life, but tonight she felt like she was at her highest point. When her eyes finally spotted her target, the reason she had even been rummaging around an old closet and choking on enough dust to fell an adult warnicorn, her small, nostalgic smile stretched into a wide grin laden with too many emotions to count. If there’s any night to wear red, this is it, Star thought as she slipped into the silky dress awaiting her.

After all, she and Marco were once again going to a Blood Moon Ball.

Six Weeks Earlier

“Not sure if we’ll be able to pull this off, Diaz. They’ve got us surrounded.” Steam rolled out of Star’s mouth with the words, threatening to give away their location. She shivered despite the warm pink fleece she wore; the wind today was so chilly that even Marco had donned a winter jacket over his hoodie. They were in the midst of a battle, nay, an all-out war. We’ve got one, maybe two dozen? We’re doomed.

Where Star faltered, Marco’s resolve was firm. “Our only option is a last stand. I can lead a strong forward assault and draw fire long enough for you to flank their offense.” They’d found a secure location with solid cover, but it severely limited their scouting ability. Marco lowered his hood and stole a glance above the metal behind them, ducking back down instantly. Snow had already accumulated on his lashes and glittered softly in the sunlight, but Star couldn’t afford to linger on that image. It was do or die.

He took her hands and pulled her close, almost touching their noses. “If I don’t make it, Star, I want you to take care of Nachos for me, OK?” He scooped up his armful of snowballs and moved into position.

She theatrically reached out a hand towards him right as he got to the threshold of safety. “I’ll never forget you Marcoooo…” she whispered loudly. The pair giggled as Star grabbed her ammunition. “Alright, enough of that. Ready?”

“Ready.”

Marco dashed around the playground slide and into the fray. Right as Star followed, she heard him yelp and fall into the soft snow coating the playground, three enemy combatants hovering over him and pelting him mercilessly. “Marco!” Star yelled and trudged over with the gleeful cheers of their enemy ringing in her ears. “Speak to me, Marco! Don’t leave me!”

“Star… Remember me...” He grunted and let his head drop into the snow.

“Noooooooooo!” With one final breath, she flopped on top of him and accepted death by a thousand snowballs.

One extra large hunk of snow, far too large to have been thrown by any of the kids, exploded on Star’s back and coated her entirely in soft white fluff. Star heard the warm rumble of Antonio’s hearty chuckles at his successful finishing blow. “Alright, kiddos, your families are here. Have a happy break!” His beefy hand grabbed Star’s own and easily hefted her to her feet before doing the same for Marco. How the heck he was OK in the cold with just an ear-flappy-hat and his usual flannel shirt, she’d never know.

Star dusted herself off and watched the children skip through the snow - a much smaller group than usual, since it was the last evening shift before Christumpmasday break. Most were eager to return to their families, though Star had to help two little girls finish building their snowlizard and take a few pictures before they were willing to leave without bursting into tears; in their defense, it was a ridiculously cute and fun snowlizard. And with that, it was finally holiday break time!

As they walked back to the Center with Antonio, Star took in the sight of the campus covered in fresh snow. The sparkling white planes draped across the pristine Earth architecture contrasted with the raw, natural aesthetic of snow and ice intermingled with remnants of a once-thriving Mewman village, but it all blended together into something unique and beautiful. She caught Marco transfixed with a goofy smile on his face, in awe of her as much as she was with the world, and her cheeks flushed a tiny bit more than they’d already done in the cold. The crunch of snow underfoot and the gentle whooshing of the wind as they swung their joined hands back and forth were the only sounds disturbing this peaceful, perfect moment.

“Merry Christumpmasday, Antonio!” Star shouted as she gave her boss-slash-friend a big hug, and he laughed and returned the gesture with enough strength to lift both Star and Marco off the ground a little.

“Same to you two. Thanks again for staying late, I feel bad about keeping anyone here like this. My husband’s still out of town until tomorrow so home, work, it’s all the same to me, personally. Wish your whole family the best for me.” After saying their goodbyes, Star and Marco walked back out into the cold where their ride was waiting.

“Hey, girl” Marco’s voice was tender as he adjusted Nachos’ cute winter cap and stroked her back. As he was testing his foothold to make sure he wouldn’t slip and faceplant while trying to hop on, Antonio peeked his head out the door.

“Wait, before you go… an elderly lady gave me this flier for some kinda dance.” He scratched his chin through his beard. “Dunno why she brought it here of all places, but since I had it, I thought I might as well pass it along.”

“Oh, is it for that big dance the high school is throwing for all the teens in town?” Marco asked.

“Seems so. Maybe she just got confused about what kinds of kids it was for,” Antonio said, lightly chuckling. “January 30, it says, and it’s an all-nighter; that’s quite the shindig. If Earthni parties are anything like my high school days, it’s probably best I give you the whole next day off,” he said with a wink and a smirk.

All night dance? Even the Bounce Lounge was rarely that crazy - what was so special about this? Antonio handed the flier to Star and Marco who took hold of the other side of it, moving it between them as they gaped in shock at its contents.

“No way, there’s no way, what the-” she and Marco muttered in perfect unison. “Are you- seeing this? It can’t- how did-” They started and stopped as their attempts to stop copying each other canceled each other out.

Marco blinked a few more times to finally pry his eyes away from the page. “Well, eclipses do happen pretty often on Earth, I guess...” They both glanced incredulously back and forth between each other and the flier before the tension in their shoulders finally dropped. An unspoken agreement had been made: they might as well give this dance a shot. Star took one last look at the flier before hopping on Nachos, stuffing it into her jacket and wrapping her arms around Marco’s midriff for the ride home, its words emblazoned in her mind.

January 30-31, 2018. Super Blue Blood Moon Eclipse Extravaganza at Echo Creek Academy! Come dance under the red light of the lunar eclipse!

***

Present Day

“OK, Diaz, let’s see what you’ve got. Sweat prevention, check,” he noted with a quick whiff of his armpits. “Outfit, check.” Bright red dress shirt, sharp black jacket, sleek black tie. Marco posed in the bathroom mirror a few times, getting everything in order for a night he’d been looking forward to for months. “Hair, check.” It was just his usual style, but it never hurt to make sure it was ready to go. Looking good, Diaz.

His stare lingered in their bedroom mirror for a moment too long as thoughts began racing through his mind. Was he nervous? Marco Diaz, nervous for a big night with the girl he loved? More often than not Star was his reason not to be nervous about anything, but this was their first big formal dance as a couple and he did have a pretty dicey history with those. And what were the odds that it was on the night of the Blood Moon again? He wasn’t exactly worried about the curse, per se - there was some caveat or another in demon lore that the Blood Moon could only impart its curse when shining through a special Underworld crystal, the very same one embedded in the roof of the Lucitor ballroom years ago, Relicor had assured them. And it’s not like it even did anything bad to them in the first place, right? Marco still stood by his own words - it was all baloney. Still though, it did leave him with a decision to make. He experimentally put on his Día de Los Muertos mask and turned his head a bit. Should he?

“I don’t think I ever told you how cute you look in that mask.” He’d gotten pretty good about anticipating Star’s sudden appearances but had been caught up in his own mind enough that he still jumped a bit, much to her amusement. “Buuuuuuuut…” she drawled as she swiftly stepped forward and snatched it off his head. “I like your face more.” She grinned and pinched his cheek before they both stopped to truly look at each other. They hadn’t seen each other’s outfits ahead of time but as always they’d been on the same page. “I like the rest of you, too,” she muttered, biting her lip. Marco felt his cheeks turn the same color as his shirt at the comment, but also at her own appearance. Two wavy strands of hair in front of her ears framed her adorable face, though her hair had otherwise been left down as normal. Her red dress had a lone heart clasp on one shoulder, a pattern of moons and stars on a dark band circling the waist, a knee-length wavy skirt that gently swished as she rocked back and forth, and black high heels.

“Wow,” he uttered.

“You like it?” Star asked hopefully. “I thought, well, I didn’t want to go too over-the-top and wear the old Blood Moon Ball outfit but I still wanted to fit the theme so-”

“You’re beautiful,” Marco stated. Not that she’d needed to be wearing an incredible evening dress for him to think that, and he knew she knew that too, but she was still making him a bit dizzy right now. “Wait-” he stopped her when she tried to move in for a kiss, leaning back to their nightstand. He grabbed her horns and gently placed them on her head, brushing a wayward strand of hair back into place. “Perfect.” He leaned forward to kiss her, seeing her doing the same as his eyelids closed, and-

“Mijos!” Star and Marco’s eyes opened, freezing in place so close together that her breath tickled his lips, staring at each other for a second before turning towards the door. Daaaaad. “Oh, sorry, did we interrupt a moment?” We? Rafael stepped aside to reveal all their parents, plus Eclipsa and Globgor, crammed into the hallway. Star took Marco’s hand as they separated.

“Eeeee!” Eclipsa squealed in delight. “You two are absolutely precious. Come downstairs, loves, we must take your picture.”

“I’ve got two backup rolls of film!” Angie chimed in as Moon herded them all down the stairs and out of the way.

Marco looked at Star, who was goofily smiling at him as she squeezed his hand. It wasn’t that he minded being affectionate with Star around friends and family - heck, his own parents were still the most overtly lovey-dovey couple in the house - but he couldn’t help a bit of embarrassment when they were the center of attention like that. After double checking to make sure they had everything they needed, the pair headed out and walked down the stairs together to the oohs and aahs of their families. Star’s parents merely watched while Marco’s both wielded cameras, snapping pictures fervently. Nachos wasn’t due for another few minutes, so they decided to just endure the gauntlet.

“Didn’t think a sort-of-school dance was such a big deal,” Star murmured. Eclipsa sat down on the arm of the couch next to Globgor while Moon daintily folded her hands in her lap on the opposite side with River squished between her and the size-shifter.

“Well, when Marco left for Mewni, we were worried he’d never get to have a prom,” Angie cheerily responded, having evidently heard Star’s comment. “This is basically the same thing, though. Raf, honey, remember our prom?”

“Oh, yes, it was delightful,” he said, finally lowering the camera and turning to address the others on the couch. “We had actually just broken up that morning and went separately, but your mother just happened to walk directly into me as the slow music started and we ended up waltzing the night away. That was the last time we had to get back together.” How many details about my parents have I missed? Marco wondered to himself, before realizing he likely didn’t want to know quite a few of them and shuddering a bit. Still, it was better than being endlessly fawned over, so Marco stood perfectly still and shut his mouth.

Eclipsa set a hand on Globgor’s shoulder, smiling fondly. “Globgor and I met at a dance too! Well, not quite a ‘dance’, I suppose... he twirled me out of the way of an assassin’s arrow, and I swept him off his feet, but the principle seems about the same to me.”

“I was about to eat a guard until she blasted me to the ground. She cast a spell on me in more ways than one.” Globgor laughed. “Though the literal one was very painful,” he added seriously.

“Well, River and I had been to our share of Silver Bell Balls and other royal festivities,” Moon chimed in. “Though when I was Star’s age we weren’t together yet, and I was very focused on the kingdom by the time things were calm enough to enjoy them properly…”

“And now our little girl is going to big fancy galas with a handsome young man. Next thing you know she’ll be setting out on her own, never needing her parents again!” River wailed, clutching Moon’s arm. Well, the diversion was good while it lasted.

“River, please,” Moon gently chided. “You two are quite the adorable couple, though. Though I never wished to interfere in your personal affairs on Mewni, I am certainly glad things eventually worked out as well as they did.”

Eclipsa strolled over and enveloped both of them in a hug. “You two look positively astonishing together,” she cooed before releasing them to take them in one at a time. “Star, darling, you’re as stunning as I’ve ever seen you. And Marco...” She paused, placing her hands on his shoulders. Her purple eyes were laden with unbridled affection as they looked him up and down, her lips turning upward in as sincere a smile as he’d seen her display. “Marco, you sweet young man… You’re quite lucky to have each other, you know. Perhaps it’s not my place to say, but I’m so proud of how you’ve grown these past few years. Now have fun tonight, this is great practice for a certain other first dance I see in your future,” she finished with a wink, causing his blush to return with a vengeance.

“Picture time!” Rafael singsonged, getting up close and flashing a camera near Marco’s face. “Do some fun poses! Give the people what they want! We are not going to miss any more of our son’s major life moments!” His voice was filled with determination to the point of sounding angry, and Marco’s eyes widened in part sympathy, part stark terror. Minutes flew by as Star and Marco supplied their families’ demands, exhausting both the traditional prom shots and their signature poses: back-to-back, too cool for school, Star pinching his cheeks, drowning in a monster’s stomach acid… the list seemed endless, and though goofing around with Star was always fun, he’d been anticipating the dance so long that every second of delay felt like torture. Finally, Marco breathed a sigh of relief when his dad moaned in dismay at the camera clicking without anything happening; he was out of film.

“Oh dear, only one left,” Angie echoed. “Let’s get a nice one of a kiss. Don’t be shy.”

“Well, Marco? Shall we?” Star threw him a flirtatious grin, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He opened his mouth to respond with a quip of his own when he heard wheels screeching to a stop outside. Sweet freedom. “Well, that’s our ride!” Marco stated a bit too forcefully, breaking away from Star and heading towards the door to greet Nachos. Flying in on a dragoncycle would be a major departure from whatever prom fantasies about picking up Jackie in a limo he’d had as a kid, but he still wanted to do something special with a traditional flair. She snorted and cackled when the door opened and revealed his grand prom surprise: Nachos with a top hat and bow tie.

“Marco, what did you do to her?”

“Well, it’s prom, so our ride needs to be the fanciest it can be,” he giggled as she rolled her eyes. “Only the best for you, m’la-”

When Star’s lips cut him off sweetly as she tugged him closer, suddenly Marco didn’t mind staying a little bit longer, and the snap of his mother’s camera seemed to agree.

***

Chaos. Compared to any dance Star had been to before, this was the best kind of chaos. The energetic beat of the electronic music thrummed in her ears as her hips swayed and arms waved in the air. She wasn’t sure exactly how many people had shown up, but the gymnasium of Echo Creek Academy was more packed than she’d ever seen it. Still, it wasn’t so cramped that she had no room to get her groove on; when her butt bumped into Marco beside her, it was by choice as she slyly grinned at her boyfriend in his red shirt, now sans jacket. He smirked back at her and set his feet in place, slicing his hands wildly through the air. “I thought you didn’t like the sword-hand dance,” Star loudly spoke into his ear, though it was a whisper relative to the volume of the music and crowd.

“Yeah, but if everyone else is gonna do it anyway, I might as well own it.” They locked eyes as she began to mirror him, mimicking his karate poses in time with the music. He abruptly grabbed both her hands and swung them up and down, laughing as they just shook everything they had without a care in the world. She yanked him towards her and spun them both around, their backs flush against each other as they kept bouncing to the rhythm.

“Woop, woop! Starco in da HOUSE!” Ponyhead stuck her horn between them, forcing them apart as she floated up and down.

Tom also made his way beside them, drink in hand. “Anyone else want punch?” He lowered the plastic cups he’d been levitating over the crowd into Star and Marco’s hands, and Pony’s tongue. “Gotta say, this is pretty good punch. What kind of blood is it? Centaur? Unicorn? Oooooh, I’ve heard that giraffigator blood is hot these days.”

Marco eyed his cup warily. “What the heck is a giraffigat-”

“WHAT’S THIS ‘BOUT UNICORN BLOOD?” Pony screamed, getting up in Tom’s face.

Star quickly separated them, holding her hands up to try and ease her friends. “Guys, guys, there’s no actual blood in it, I think it’s just citrus.” Well, she was fairly sure. She took one trial sip, tasting the sweet flavor of- “Wait, yep, this is blood,” she said disgustedly after she spit it back into the cup.

“More for me, then,” Tom said nonchalantly, as he snatched Marco’s cup and took another swig while Pony floated in circles grumbling. It seemed like the DJ was taking a break from the upbeat dancing music for now, so the group made their way to the outskirts of the gymnasium where they’d left their belongings. Star laid down on the bleachers, resting her head on Marco’s lap after he’d put his jacket back on and sat down. He stroked her hair with his thumb as they relaxed after an intense hour of dancing. It struck her that this was actually the first time she’d ever truly had carefree fun at a formal dance. The original Blood Moon Ball left her with very mixed feelings to say the least, and her one experience with an Earth dance had been a bit of a disaster even though she didn’t actually go. Time had largely expunged the lingering venom she’d directed at herself for her relationship mistakes after returning to Mewni, leaving some life lessons and fond memories; but even some enjoyable fiery dances with Tom didn’t change the fact that the Silver Bell Balls were stuffy political dramafests. She reached up and intertwined her fingers with Marco’s, squeezing his hand and beaming at him - this was more like it.

“You know, I will say, this DJ is killing it tonight,” Pony said as she returned. “I was kinda expectin’ something lame but this is the best party I’ve been to since the Bounce Lounge closed.” Star nodded in agreement.

Tom leaned back and crossed his legs a few rows below them, taking a sip from his second cup so far. “Oh, yeah, I know him, he’s actually the cousin of my old anger management coach. His name’s Kim H. Brian.”

“I thought your coach’s name was Brian,” Marco responded.

“Yeah, Brian Brian.”

“Get outta t- wait, the Kim H. Brian?” Star bolted up at Marco’s words and they stared at each other incredulously.

“The producer of Love Sentence’s most controversial album, Prison Breakup?” Star and Marco said simultaneously.

“That’s the one,” Tom said, chuckling a bit. “Only you two could still say entire sentences at the same time without a demonic curse.” He stared into his drink for a few seconds, his visage suddenly becoming completely somber. All three eyes closed as he took a deep breath before floating up and sitting next to the couple. “Look, about the whole Blood Moon thing-”

Hold on, was he still in a twist about this? “Tom, it’s fine!” Star said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “We broke the Curse, you apologized, it’s all good.”

“I know, but it’s not that- after we went to the Severing Stone, deep down I knew that the Curse wasn’t why you two had those feelings, but I just kept pretending because I still liked you, Star. If I hadn’t been so caught up in that, maybe it wouldn’t have taken so damn long to sort our mess out. I know it doesn’t matter anymore, but… I guess the dance just got me thinking again about friendship and love and stuff. So if you’re OK with it, I actually asked Kim to do a little something special for you two later, to help give you the Blood Moon Ball you deserve,” he finished with a toothy smile.

Star’s eyes started to mist up; Tom had always been supportive of Star and Marco since they’d all sorted themselves out, but it never failed to move her. Star lunged forward, wrapping herself around him in a bear hug, and Marco followed suit. “Toooooom, that’s so sweet!”

“Yeah, man, that’s really-” Marco was stopped by the sudden intrusion of Ponyhead into their little moment.

“Hey, Lucitor, do you know where Janna went? I’ve been TRYING to ask her for the hot deets on totally eligible bachelors here. You know, name, height, bank account balance: the usual business. So anyway she hasn’t been, like, responding at all and I’m starting to worry I might not be able to score a good enough rebound to make Seahorse see that he made the biggest mistake of his life letting me dump him!”

Marco nodded toward the still-in-progress group hug. “Little busy?”

“Yeah, whatever, save your huggy feeltime for later, this is im-por-tant.”

“OK, fine,” Tom said, extricating himself from the embrace. “I haven’t seen her for a while but I can help look. It’s Janna, so she’s probably just splicing some gargoyle DNA to a class hamster or something.”

“Last I saw, she was by the old photobooth.”

Wait, that had survived? Star and Marco exchanged shocked glances at the thought of the site of their first kiss having survived the whole way to Earthni.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Marco asked. Star grinned and nodded, grabbing his hand to run off and make even more memories.

***

Janna Ordonia had never been more scared in her entire life. Okay, maybe that time a monster guy exploded into dust a few feet in front of her was more viscerally terrifying, but Janna was used to freakiness and death even before she’d spent so much time in the literal Underworld. Tonight, though? The pit in her stomach that left her unable to speak, unable to think, was something almost alien to her. She had so much unique expertise in dealing with all things mystical and macabre that it took something completely and utterly human to faze her, and now she found herself staring in a mirror struggling to cope.

Janna Ordonia had caught feelings.

She’d always known she had a thing for the spooky and supernatural, so an attraction to a half-demon with two horns, three eyes, and purple skin was basically inevitable. It hadn’t bothered her like this when she’d had a casual fling with a talking skeleton years ago, either. The only logical conclusion she could draw was that whatever she was feeling now was a different beast altogether. The night had started out so pleasantly: the Lucitors had invited her over for a casual dinner beforehand - whatever meat the Underworld used for burgers was damn good - and they’d taken the carriage together to the dance afterwards.

It just made practical sense, it didn’t mean anything, I don’t WANT it to mean anything. Some variant of this refrain had been repeating in her mind a lot lately, but staring at her own reflection, it felt thinner with every passing second. If it was true, she probably wouldn’t even be here now; she could be doing way cooler things with the night of an ultra-rare eclipse than drinking cheap punch and shuffling awkwardly on the dance floor to chart-topping pop trash. But Tom had seemed excited at the prospect, and the next thing she knew she had picked out a simple black dress with pink highlights - hell, it was even Tom’s nonjudgmental support that had given her the confidence to wear her secret favorite color more in the first place. One way or another, everything seemed to circle back to one simple fact. Each day spent learning about the Underworld and adventuring in its depths was obviously worthwhile on its own merits, but it was always better with him. If she couldn’t stop this storm brewing inside, then the only thing left was to take control of it on her own terms. Well, this is it, Janna. You have a serious crush on Tom Lucitor.

By the time her mind had finished processing its own confession, she’d already made her way back to the gym and meandered to a vacant corner to watch idly by herself, not unlike how she’d spent most of the dance so far. They’d arrived from the Underworld fashionably late and it had only taken a few minutes for Janna to ditch her friends and hide while she moped about her feelings, but of course as soon as she wanted company again there was none to be found. She huffed and pulled out her phone, switching between a few games to occupy the time.

“Hey.” She looked up to find Tom holding two glasses. “Anything fun going on in this empty corner?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty intense over here. Some dust bunnies got in a street fight.” She smirked and stole one of his glasses, raising it to her lips for a sip.

“Wait, don’t, that’s-” It tasted funny, fruity and sweet but with a metallic tang. “Blood.” Ah. She considered it for a moment before deciding to take another sip. She’d had worse. “Anyway, where have you been? We basically haven’t seen you since we got here.”

“Oh, you know, nowhere and everywhere. It’s what I do,” she deflected. “Where’re the others?” Star and Ponyhead were forces of nature when it came to stealing the spotlight, so Janna figured they were her best shot at getting through the night with minimal awkwardness.

“We were taking a break and then they ran off to a photobooth. I still don’t really get the hype, but you know how it is with them.”

“Yeah, it’s gross.”

“Yep…” They both fell silent, continuing to drink what was supposedly some kind of real blood punch as the dance droned on in the background. “Hey, so, uh, can we talk for a sec? About… us?”

She tried her damnedest to suppress the unexpected surge of conflicting emotions, burying her face in her cup until she thought she could reliably answer. One time, when they were in elementary school, she’d poured milk down Marco’s shirt at lunch and a few other girls had teased her, insisting that meant Janna had a crush on him. She never really understood that connection - she just kinda liked pranking Marco - but the taunts had gotten to her. There was a sort of pride she felt in being inscrutable, an enigma that could only be unraveled on her own terms. Had he figured her out so easily when she herself had been in denial? A mumbled “uh, sure” was the best she could as she ran through the last few months in her head trying to figure out if she’d betrayed her feelings.

“It’s pretty loud in here, can we head outside?” Janna only nodded in response, her own racing thoughts drowning out her surroundings. The DJ was announcing some kind of special song request as the gym doors closed behind them and they stepped out into the chilly winter air. “Oh, right, um-” Tom quickly took his jacket off, handing it to her. “Since it’s cold, and I can make my own fire, and-”

“Thanks,” she gruffly said, putting her arms through it. Damn him. She was cold, and he was being thoughtful and helpful, but it only made the upcoming conversation even more difficult for her to have. One hand idly pawed through the enchanted storage compartment she’d fitted in her dress (even in formalwear, she considered function most important). Damnit, she’d left her entire arsenal at home, save for a prototype glass bottle that would harmlessly evaporate on impact, which was filled with some leftover antigravity potion - no easy way out of this, then.

“No problemo,” he drawled, pointing finger guns at her before jamming both hands into his pockets and staring at the ground. “Since Star and I broke up, I’ve been trying really hard to just be my own person. Heck, you’re the one that showed me that’s what I needed to focus on. I had no clue what I was doing.... Honestly, I still don’t.” He paused again, turning back towards the school. “Being here, it just makes it hard to ignore how things have been kinda, you know, weird lately, between…” A little fireball coming off his finger zigzagged back and forth between them.

Why was he so insistent on bringing this up? “Look, Tom, we don’t have to-”

He turned back towards her “Yes, Janna, I think we do! If we don’t deal with it now it’s only going to get worse, and I don’t- I can’t-”

“Dude, drop it, OK? Let’s just go back inside so we can-”

“NO!” A puff of flame shot out of his head but quickly dissipated, leaving only a lingering sizzle and water in his eyes. “I can’t do this anymore! I like you, Janna. I really like you, and it’s screwing everything up.” ...wha? There were a few hundred possible ways Janna thought to respond, but none even made it beyond a guttural yelp in her throat, so Tom continued unabated. “I know you’re you, and you can stay really chill about stuff even when you care a lot, but I can’t, OK? You’re clever and fearless and everything’s more fun with you. You’re one of my best friends and that’s why I couldn’t keep doing this without telling you even if I’m probably making a complete idiot of myself right now.” Every second that Janna remained utterly paralyzed on the spot left Tom’s eyeliner even more streaked as his tears rained down, each tiny splash hissing on the cold pavement and melting the nearby snow and ice. “Yeah, OK, I get it. Look, forget I said anything, I just want to still be friends, OK? I- I totally get if you want some space for a while, so I’ll just- alright, bye.” He wiped off his face with his sleeve and turned around, floating off the ground and flying back into the building, leaving Janna alone on the sidewalk.

The oncoming shivers in Janna’s spine provided the final push to lift the dense fog clouding her mind. He’d just confessed to her, he had a crush on her, and she’d basically just snapped his heart in two. Pangs of guilt and sorrow and joy all ganged up on her; was this how bad things had been for Star and Marco? She almost felt sorry for ribbing them about their romantic struggles now. At this point the only thing left to do was to find Tom, so she sprinted into the building after him, braving the fray of the dance floor once more.

Can’t be that hard to spot a tall set of horns with three eyes. Even though there were all sorts of monsters in attendance, there were very few demons, but that didn’t seem to help her locate him. He wasn’t responding to her texts either, ugh! As Janna kept looking around, she realized she didn’t recognize anyone here. She’d left Echo Creek Academy at the same time as Marco but didn’t go to college, nor had she spent a ton of time with Mewni’s teenage population before the Cleaving. The Underworld was what she knew best; it was where she’d felt most at home, even with two whole dimensions merged together, and that realization spurred her to keep searching. Janna barged through another door into the hallway and rounded a corner, instantly colliding with someone.

“Ex-CUSE me! Watch your freaking face before I pulv-” Ponyhead shouted, shaking her hair back into place after being bumped into the locker. “Oh, it’s you, girl! Where you been? And is that Tom’s jac-”

“Tom. Have you seen him?”

“Oh, I see how it is, first Starco gets their own flipping song and runs outside to go boink under the moonlight or whatever, then my boyfriend runs off to sell a toaster or whatever, then Tom comes in here all moody and doesn’t want to talk to me, and now you’re abandoning me too? I feel like I’ve barely been around you guys lately, why does no one want to spend time with Ponyhead?”

“Wait, didn’t you dump- never mind, Pony, this is important, OK? I seriously blew it, I need to talk to him-”

“Hey, woah, is there some drama going on here? Shoot, why didn’t you say so? OK, so, he was floating around in circles out here for a bit. I came out here to do my bi-hourly makeup check just a minute ago and I do believe he was going back into the gym, mmhm, yes, that is where he was. Go do whatchu gotta do and give me the juicy deets after, mmkay?” Ponyhead winked and whacked Janna on the back with her horn.

Janna ran back into the gym and finally spotted Tom standing in the center of the floor, uninterestedly swaying back and forth to the beat of some crooning couple’s ballad. When his eyes met hers, his gaze became visibly pained as he turned to walk away. “Tom!” Her pleading shout was emphatic enough to keep him from running, but it also attracted an audience and left her standing there, too uncomfortable to speak.

Janna put one foot forward, then another, then another, willing herself forward against her better judgment. She’d frankly had enough: enough talking about her feelings, enough uncertainty about her own relationships, enough giving a single damn about “what-if”s. There’d be plenty of time later to tell him he was her best friend too, to assuage his doubts, and to put more meaningful words to her own feelings, but for now, she had settled on a course of action that began with reaching into her pocket to pull out the lone potion bottle within.

“Uh, Janna, what-” Tom stammered, a different kind of concern than the one he’d been stewing in all night bubbling up in his expression as the crowd backed up slightly. Some tiny voice in the back of her mind registered that they seemed nervous to the point of being frightened, and that comforting feeling pushed her to do the one last thing she needed to do. Before he could react, she slammed the bottle to the ground at her feet and felt the weak antigravity effect take hold. Janna closed the last few steps of distance to Tom, firmly grabbed both his shoulders, and kicked off the ground, crashing her lips into his as she hovered a few inches off the dance floor. Tom unconsciously did the same, letting her momentum carry both of them into the air until the confused, but cheering, audience was beneath them.

As he started to return the kiss, he hesitantly placed one arm on her waist and another behind her back to keep them from drifting apart, and Janna wasn’t sure she’d ever felt so secure.

***

Alright, that’s the last of them. Marco finished carefully stacking the photo strips in Star’s bag while he waited for her to return from the restroom. The photobooth had thankfully been a much more fun and much less emotionally exhausting experience this time around, though a very smug Ben Photino had still greeted them when they were done, $650 richer than before.

Now’s my chance, Star thought as she snuck up and affectionately pounced on Marco from behind. Nearly everything about tonight had been perfect so far - just her, Marco, and their friends getting a night of dancing and partying she wasn’t sure she’d ever forget. For so much of her life, it had seemed like nothing important could ever happen without a sizable dose of drama and conflict; by comparison, this all seemed like a dream, and she didn’t want to wake up anytime soon. Speaking of her friends, though… “Hey, where are the others?” She felt a bit guilty over ditching everyone else to go back to the booth for corn knows how much time, but she was certain they wouldn’t have gone too far.

“Not sure,” Marco responded, craning his neck and spotting a tuft of pink spiky hair and two brown horns across the gym. Why was he heading for the exit?

Marco started to lead the way across the gym floor when the sound system screeched with audio feedback and boomed with the sound of tapping a microphone. “Echo Creek, are we having fun tonight?” the DJ, Kim H. Brian, asked the cheering crowd. “We’re gonna keep this party flowing, but right now we have a very special song for all the soulmates out there, so get ready to twist and twirl your special guy or girl.” Star and Marco tentatively stopped in their tracks.

“Is that-” Marco started.

“What Tom was talking about?” Star finished. “We have to get him before he misses it!” What did you do this time, Tom?

(LINK TO AUDIO)

They had made it to the center of the dance floor when the lights dimmed and tinted red. It was obviously from a stage light, but the effect still flooded them with the same hopes and wants and fears from their run-ins with the Blood Moon. Marco gently smiled and took the lead, keeping one hand in hers and tugging her closer with the other on her waist. Piano chords opened the piece - a slow waltz - and Star and Marco were taking their first steps when the cello started to play a hauntingly familiar melody. It struck them both at the same time - this was the same tune that had played when they danced under the light of the Blood Moon only a few months into her friendship. Their moves grew more daring and flashy as the song went on, spinning and swaying to the rhythm.

“I always forget how good a dancer you are, Marco” Star dreamily sighed when he spun her around and dipped her down.

“My grandma taught me. She says that the only right way to dance is the fun way,” Marco laughed, lingering for half a second too long as the music swelled around them. Somewhere in those blue eyes sparkling with only love for him, he’d lost track of the world around them. Only after he noticed how the blonde curls in front of her ears shimmered in the red light did he snap back to reality and continue the dance, much to Star’s amusement.

“That’s good, because it’s always fun with you.” They stepped in harmony, slowly rotating as they box stepped to the same waltz that had once been a source of apprehension. Star took her hand off his shoulder and lifted it to his face, rubbing her thumb over his cheek. She knew the contours of his face inside and out, could describe every last detail of all the facial hairs that he’d given silly names, could picture every last one of the warm and loving ways his soothing chocolate gaze could pierce her soul, yet it didn’t stop her from being completely enraptured by it now. That intimate knowledge informed her when even the most trivial thing was out of place, which is why she decided to flick a spot just under his mole. “You had a fleck of corn.”

“In my defense, your dad’s cooking is really messy.”

“Yeah… it was cute, though. Like you had a second mole.” Something had changed in the waltz from what they remembered, a different theme slowly building until it led into a refrain that was entirely new yet somehow familiar in a way neither could place. It was a vibrant, comforting melody that felt right for them. Star shifted her hands to the back of his neck as the distance closed between them. Though Marco had grown noticeably taller than her, in her heels she found herself at nearly eye level with him as she rested her forehead on his.

Marco’s arms slithered around her waist, holding her tight as their lively waltz morphed into intimate, formless swaying. “This- this is really nice.”

“Yeah… I love it. I love you, Marco.” She paused a moment, leaning back to get a clear view of as much of him as she could; even after a year and a half of being together and years of friendship before that, she was still giddy over how much she truly loved every bit of him. “Nothing’s ever going to change that.”

“I love you too, Star. I’m not going anywhere.” Their hands joined once more as they resumed their spirited dance, their devotion to one another vaulting their joy to new heights. Neither cared about elegance or form anymore; their steps and spins and lifts came from the deepest places within, as if their very souls were mingling in the air above. Plucked strings accentuated the song as it grew calmer and entered what Marco was fairly sure was its final verse. A bittersweet sensation bubbled up from within his chest; he’d had plenty of moments with Star that he’d never wanted to end, but this one seemed to have an extra significance attached. The final chord of the waltz rung out, the pair both freezing in place in their final waltz pose, stunned at the beauty of what had just transpired.

The crowd’s clapping broke finally them out of their trance. “Woah,” they breathed out in unison. In her breathless state, Star idly wondered if the applause was for them, but she realized how silly that was as the full breadth of the outside world slowly trickled back into her senses. Shortly after, the dance went back to normal; had it been a dream? No, of course not, it had literally just happened mere seconds ago, but the impact it had on them felt otherworldly.

Returning from the daze, Marco finally recalled their goal of finding Tom, and the extent to which Marco wanted to crush Tom in a thankful hug and blubber into his shoulder gave it an additional sense of urgency. He turned to her with a determined look, and had it returned. “We should find Tom.” They went to the gym exit, but it was blocked by... Miss Skullnick.

“Oh, it’s you. Nice to see you, Star,” she saccharinely sneered. “Don’t be trying anything funny, you hear me? We’ve already had four couples’ ‘incidents’.”

A shiver ran through Star at the involuntary thought of Miss Skullnick catching her and Marco in a more... private moment, but she quickly brushed it aside for her own sanity. “Skullzy, we’re just trying to find our friend,” she whined.

“Well, too bad, you can’t use this door. The sidewalk somehow melted and completely iced over, and I don’t wanna be sued for liability!”

“C’mon, Star,” Marco said. “We can just go out the front door.” She was still indignant, but acquiesced and followed Marco into the main building and through a hallway. They rounded the corner to the main entrance and stopped dead in their tracks at the sight of Ponyhead passionately making out with Seahorse.

“Pony?!?” Star shouted.

“Oh, um, why hello Star and Earth Turd!”

“Greetings!” Seahorse added in his usual monotone chipper voice.

Star slapped her hand to her forehead. “I thought you broke up ‘for really-realz’ this time, Pony?”

“Well, yes, mmhmm, I do believe that is how I described the sequence of events that occurred. But then, well, you know how it is with him… we made up while y’all went off to take a bazillion pictures or whatever. That weird old human lady that kinda looks like a troll caught us while we were-”

“Pony!” Star yelled, cutting her off in shock. Really, though, the most surprising part was that Ponyhead had been responsible for only one of the so-called “couple’s incidents.”

“Lilacia gave a very high satisfaction rating to the Reflectacorp™ line of vibrating-”

Marco stepped in and clamping Seahorse’s mouth shut before they could be traumatized any further. Star rolled her eyes and took Marco’s hand once more, heading past the other couple towards the front door.

“Fine, I see how it is. C’mon, Seahorse, let’s go get freak-ay on the dance floor!”

“Reflectacorp™ disco technology allows you to boogie and/or woogie risk-free, guarantee-!”

The double doors shut behind Star and Marco as they stepped out into the cold. They walked around the building towards the gym and saw that Miss Skullnick had been telling the truth; but there was no one else in sight, only the snowflakes gently drifting through the air and a full moon above in the night sky. Star still wanted to get back to her friends, but the tranquil scene gave her pause as she stood beside him. Something had been subtly gnawing at her all night - though it’d been on her mind longer than that, if she was honest with herself. “Hey Marco?”

“Yeah?”

“When Eclipsa said earlier about ‘another dance’...” She swallowed, letting the implication hang between them. “Do you think that’s something that will happen?”

He glanced at her quizzically until the meaning sank in and his heart skipped a beat. Was she- did she- is she asking… His eyes blinked rapidly once, twice, three times while he processed the gravity of the question. But his surprise quickly dissolved; after all, he’d been thinking about it too. Maybe he hadn’t drawn that specific connection, but how many times tonight alone had he beheld the wonderful girl beside him and remarked to himself that he’d be happy with her for the rest of his life? He swiveled around to stand in front of her, taking both of her hands into his own. “If you want it to, then I know it will, someday.”

She sighed happily, lacing her fingers through his. It wasn’t even the first time they’d declared their love with permanence, but no matter how far they went, they couldn’t help but be concerned about how the other felt about the next step. “Didn’t a lot of people usually wait until they’re, like, 30 to get married on Earth?”

“A lot of them, yeah,” he admitted, “but, I dunno, I don’t really care about that.”

“Me neither,” she asserted, happily beaming at him.

“So we just… let it happen when we’re ready, I guess.”

“Mmhmm,” Star hummed, feeling a warmth deep inside that combated the chill prickling her skin. One of her hands left his and tangled itself in his hair, as her gaze fondly roved the face she hoped to see as long as she lived before finally settling on his lips. He had the same idea, leaning forward and sweetly kissing her. Their lips were a bit chapped from the cold, but it didn’t bother either of them; this signified something far more than physical gratification. She pressed them closer together until there was no distance left between them, the dual friction of his soft, inviting lips moving against hers and her silky dress rubbing on the coarse fabric of his jacket thrummed through her entire body.

When they separated, his eyes scanned the sky for a moment before sheepishly turning back downwards. “Huh,” he murmured.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s stupid.” Star raised an eyebrow insistently, the pair still in each other’s arms. “It’s just, I thought that maybe- maybe the Blood Moon would be shining, or our cheekmarks would glow or something. It’s dumb, I know-”

“Well, that does happen to us a lot,” she conceded. “But I’m pretty sure the eclipse isn’t supposed to start until, like, 3 AM.” “Have you ever thought about when we broke the Curse?”

“What do you mean?”

Star stepped away from their embrace, folding her arms and stuffing her frigid hands under her armpits as she frustratedly tried to piece together her complicated thoughts. “Like, when we were in the Severing Stone, I remember it took us back to the Blood Moon Ball and we started dancing… what happened after that? If it never changed how we feel, what was even the point?”

Marco shrugged; when he’d finally accepted his feelings once and for all, he’d dismissed the entire concept of the Curse as bogus, but since then he had considered it in some new lights. “If it was actually a curse, I’m glad we got rid of it, but… looking back, I’m kinda glad that the Blood Moon Ball went like it did. That was one of the first times I saw how special you are to me.”

“Same. Plus, that’s where I learned you dance good,” she growled with a smirk. “But still… sometimes I wonder if I told you I loved you while we were in there. Because I did love you then, you know. Even if I was trying to push it away.”

“Maybe we’ll never know.”

“I guess I’ll just have to tell you every chance I get from now on, then, because you’re stuck with me, Diaz.”

“So long as we both shall live. Do you accept?” He asked with a cheeky grin.

Her laughter, bubbly and playful and sincere all at once, was answer enough for Marco. Not one to be outdone, though, Star carefully lowered herself onto one knee, lowering her head and closing her eyes solemnly before looking back up at him. “I dooOOOH-” She shrieked as the icy sidewalk took its toll and sent her toppling sideways. Marco reacted quickly, stopping her from hitting the ground and helping her to her feet. “Maaaaybe we should go inside now.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he responded, draping his jacket over both their shoulders like a cape. “Still have to thank Tom.” She clung to him as they hurried back around the school and into its shelter from the cold - even shared body heat and emotional warmth could only do so much. Although they’d removed whatever eternal supernatural soul-binding curse the Blood Moon may have bestowed, Marco mused, they’d still shared a tender first dance and grown as partners under its light, once upon a time. Perhaps, in a roundabout way, it had always been a blessing, too. In a sense, they’d just cleaved their own souls together again with only a simple promise. No magic, no curses, just Star Butterfly and Marco Diaz... and that was more than enough.

They stepped back into the gym, ready for the hours of partying ahead of them, and were greeted by the sight of Janna and Tom floating in the air locked in a passionate kiss. Star and Marco’s eyeballs both nearly bugged out of their heads as their eyes whipped back and forth between each other and the spectacle in front of them, leaving them with only one possible response.

“WHAT THE-”

#starco #svtfoe #star vs the forces of evil #jantom #tgg svtfoe #fanfic

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love-of-fandoms · 4 years ago

Text

Cherry Blossoms (Hanzo Shimada + OC) Chapter 12

Chapter 12 of Cherry Blossoms (Master List)

Pairing: Alpha Hanzo + Omega OC

Word Count: 2489 words

The long awaited day had finally arrived. And Jack Morrison was surprisingly into Halloween. Not that he would ever openly admit to enjoying the holiday.

“Wow!” Danny gasped when she saw the alpha’s costume splayed out alongside the copious amounts of fake blood and costume makeup he had bought for the occasion. What looked like it had once been a t-shirt was now just a tattered cloth with sleeves and a hole to put his head through, and some cargo pants had been cut within an inch of their life.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jack scoffed, waving his hand dismissively. “Just do my makeup, kid,” he commanded, and Danny sighed, motioning for him to sit in front of her. He did so, and Danny got to work. She first made his whole face pale with a powdery makeup he had gotten for the occasion, and then made the hollows around his eyes much darker. She added some purple on his cheekbones to make his face look more gaunt, and then stopped to study his face for a minute.

“Do you mind if I put the fake blood and gashes over your scars? They’d make good guides,” she asked, and Jack nodded, the corner of his lip quirking up.

“Go ahead,” Danny smiled at him and went to do just that. “You’re gonna be a badass zombie,” she muttered a couple minutes later, dripping some fake blood down his neck. He chuckled.

“I’m badass no matter what I am,” he countered, and Danny hummed in agreement, withholding her giggle so she didn’t shake and mess up his makeup.

“Alright, you still want to be a tree?” Danny asked, and Bastion nodded. “Lovely!” Danny beamed, handing Bastion a paint bucket. “Can you open this? Be careful and try not to spill it!” she asked, and Bastion nodded again, grabbing the paint bucket and gently prying it open. “Thanks love!” she chirped, and Bastion responded with a series of happy beeps. Bastion handed her the bucket again, and Danny gently placed it down on a table, before dunking her hand in the bucket. She began spreading the paint over Bastion’s arms and chest piece, putting little lines to make it look a bit like tree bark.

A little less than an hour later, Bastion had been painted brown. The paint would be easy to take off, they just needed to wipe it off with a hot face cloth. Danny glued leaves around Bastion before having them heat up. Bastion could regulate their temperature, and so they could heat themselves up to dry the paint.

“You look great!” Danny beamed, and Bastion chirped, giving her a thumbs up. “I’m gonna go get ready, remember the party’s at six!” she called over her shoulder as she left down the hall. Bastion beeped an affirmative after her.

After Danny had finished helping Bastion with their costume, she retreated to her room to put together her own. She put some earrings on, she had made them out of the gears Hanzo had gotten her. Danny quickly did her makeup, which just consisted of some eyeliner and bright red lipstick on her face, but then she added some gold and silver shimmering lines along her chest so they looked like veins. Some of them went down her arms and stopped just at the crook of her elbow. After spraying some setting spray all over the lines, she slipped into her sleeveless black dress, which was fitted around the bust and flew out in a bunch of layers of fabric around her legs. There was a long slit going up to her upper thigh that she had initially been nervous about, but she was feeling herself. It was Halloween! Anything goes! She placed her witch’s hat on her head. She had glued tiny gears all around the brim and the base of the hat. She then hung some goggles around her neck, and slipped on her clunky brown boots she had chosen to go with the costume.

After doing a quick twirl in front of the mirror, grinning from ear to ear, Danny exitted her room, peeking around the hallway before crossing to Jesse’s door and banging on it.

“Jesse!” she shouted through the door. “Are you ready?” It opened a moment later, revealing Jesse in a wolf ear headband and a big black overcoat with rips along the arms where some fake fur had been shoved through. His face, which had brown makeup running down from his hairline to make it look like he was much more hairy than he actually was, sported a scowl as he itched at the fur peaking through the coat.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” he said, his face pinching as he adjusted the coat a bit, before it relaxed. “There we go,” he muttered, and Danny smiled, reaching through the doorway and grabbing his hand.

“Great!” she beamed, dragging him out and into the hallway. “Let’s go!” Jesse chuckled, allowing himself to be pulled down the hall towards the common area, where Danny and Lena had set up the Overwatch Halloween Party. They had kicked everyone out early that morning and denied anyone access until 6 pm, when the party started.

“Danny!” Lena called from in front of the large archway leading to the common area. It had been covered by two heavy red velvet curtains, they had Winston to thank for hanging them.

“You ready?” Danny asked excitedly, making her way over to the woman, who had been on guard duty. She was dressed in some white leggings and a waistcoat. A pocket watch was chained to one end of the waistcoat and rested in the pocket on the other side, and on her head was a headband with two bunny ears sticking out from the top.

“Ready, love!” Tracer nodded, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Danny nodded, and dove through the curtain with Tracer.

“Come on!” Danny called back, and the other members of Overwatch, who had gathered in the hallway, slowly made their way into the transformed common area.

Everyone’s jaws dropped as they saw what Danny and Lena had done to the space in less than 10 hours. The tables had been pushed to the edges of the room, with spider web table clothes covering them. Snacks were scattered around the tables as well as a punch bowl with what looked like eyeballs floating around in it. The couches had been moved more towards the center, set up in a relaxed semicircle. A coffee table with a crystal ball in the center lay between a couple of the couches, with eyeballs on a tray right next to the crystal ball.

(The eyeballs on the tray were really just buckeyes, chocolate covered peanut butter balls, that Lena and Danny had painted with some edible paint)

Jesse let out a low whistle.

“Quite a set up,” he said, going to tip his hat to Lena and Danny, only to remember it wasn’t there. Danny and Lena both beamed.

“Thanks!” Danny chirped, before spreading her arms wide and addressing the crowd. “Welcome to the Overwatch Halloween Party! We got snacks, drinks, and fun drinks, so go crazy!” There were some cheers and people dispersed throughout the room. Lucio, sporting a classic buccaneer outfit and a large golden hoop dangling from one ear, went straight over to a DJ table Lena and Danny had set up for him. He had begged them to let him DJ and they had agreed, though they had a list of required songs he had to play for them:

Monster Mash

Thriller

Cha Cha Slide

He had agreed easily to their demands.

Jesse, who had stuck next to Danny, elbowed her in the ribs lightly.

“What?” she asked, looking up at him, but he said nothing and just jutted his chin towards the door. Danny followed his gaze and had to clench her jaw to keep it from dropping at the sight.

Hanzo and Genji had walked in. Genji was wearing a stereotypical ninja costume with a red sash around his head, and Hanzo…

Hanzo was wearing a nice black suit that was fitted perfectly to his body. A blood red shirt was under the suit jacket as well as a black tie, and over the knot of the tie was a skull. He was wearing a top hat with a sash around the base. The sash was covered in skulls, and two tails for the sash fell behind his head. In his hand he gripped a cane with a skull on the top.

He looked good.

Danny raced over to the Shimada brothers.

“You guys look great!” she gushed, looking between the two, however her stare lingered on Hanzo a little longer than it perhaps should have. Jesse made his way over a little slower than Danny, much calmer. She tilted her head back so she could look up and meet Hanzo’s eyes. “You’re a witch doctor?” she asked, and Hanzo nodded, a bit of pink dusting his cheeks.

“Yes,” he said, and Danny beamed.

“So we’re twinning!” she held up a peace sign, and Hanzo’s shoulders seemed to relax as he let out a chuckle.

“Yes, we are,” he agreed after a moment.

All four of them jumped when the music suddenly started up, and the Monster Mash started playing in the background. Danny grinned, turning around and giving Lucio a thumbs up. He nodded at her and smiled back. Danny then looked around, and gasped when she saw Reinhardt.

“No way!” she muttered before bounding over to him. Jesse, Genji, and Hanzo all exchanged looks as they slowly followed after her. “Reinhardt!” Danny called, and the knight turned to look at her. He was covered in a brown furry suit, and a sash was over one shoulder while a crossbow was over the other. “You’re Chewbacca?” she beamed, and Reinhardt nodded with a laugh.

“Of course!” he said, before reaching behind him and tugging. Torbjörn begrudgingly allowed himself to be pulled into view by Reinhardt. Danny’s grin widened when she saw his Han Solo costume.

“Oh that’s awesome!” she cheered. “Is there a Luke and Leia?” she asked, and Reinhardt laughed, pointing to the side. Danny followed his finger to see Brigitte speaking to Lena in an all white dress, and her hair was in two gigantic buns on either side of her head. “Hell yeah,” she muttered to herself.

Before they could converse any further, Danny was gasping and racing over to Winston, who had just crouched down and through the doorway.

“No!” she shouted, running up to the scientist. “No way!” she laughed, and Winston gave her a sheepish smile. Jesse and Hanzo exchanged exasperated, but fond looks as they changed directions and headed towards Winston, giving Reinhardt and Torbjörn nods in greeting.

“Athena suggested it,” he shrugged, and Danny’s hand rose to her mouth, trying to contain her sniggers.

“Athena suggested-” she had to cut herself off with a burst of laughter. “Athena suggested you be a jar of peanut butter?” Winston nodded his head, the giant teal cap on top tilting down with it.

“So, are you… chunky or smooth?” Genji asked, giggling, and Danny reached over to thwack him on the back of his head. “Ow!” his hand rose to rub at where she hit, and he shot Danny a dirty look. Winston just levelled them both with an unimpressed stare. He didn’t even grace Genji with an answer, instead turning and walking away to join Lena and Angela across the room. The blonde medic was wearing an elegant victorian dress, and her lips were painted blood red. Occasionally one could see two fangs peeking out from between said lips. Danny pouted at Genji.

“You jerk!” she groaned jokingly, heading towards one of the snack tables and pouring herself some punch,

“It was an honest question!” Genji shot back, and Danny rolled her eyes.

“Sure it was,” she giggled, shaking her head at him. She jumped when she felt a bit of heat at her back, looking over her shoulder to see Hanzo standing right behind her. He looked at her cup.

“What is that?” he asked, and Danny snorted.

“Blood,” she answered, only to be met with an unimpressed look by Hanzo. She pouted at his lack of response. “No fun,” the corner of Hanzo’s lips quirked up into a small .smirk.

“I’m fun!” he argued lightheartedly, and Danny narrowed her eyes at him.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” she said with a grin, pouring another cup of punch and turning to hand it to him. “Bet you’re more fun with some alcohol in you!” she chirped teasingly, shoving it into his hand. Hanzo sighed, raising the cup to his nose to give the red punch a sniff. Smelling nothing off, Hanzo took a sip of the punch, and let out a pleased hum.

“It’s good,” he said, and Danny grinned.

“Good!” she cheered. Hanzo smiled down at her, and Danny had the passive thought that he was quite handsome in a top hat…

“So this is something new, Casper slide part two…” Danny broke out into a grin, her free hand reaching out to grab Hanzo’s arm.

“Come on!” she cheered, dragging him over to the open space that they had allocated for dancing. Others were also lining up for the song, and Hanzo was staring at Danny, so lost. She giggled, and plucked his drink out of his hand, plopping it down on one of the coffee tables with her own.

“Everybody clap your hands…” people began to clap to the rhythm, and Hanzo jumped, looking at Danny questioningly.

“It’s the cha cha slide! A group dance!” she cheered, and he just tilted his head.

“What?” he muttered, and Danny giggled.

“It’s self explanatory,” she said to him, and he continued to stare blankly at her. She rolled her eyes playfully, grabbing his hand in her own. “Just do what I do!” she urged him.

“To the left!” Danny stepped to the left, pulling on Hanzo’s hand so he did it with her. “Take it back now y’all!” she stepped back, again dragging Hanzo with her. She accidentally bumped into Lena, who grinned at her. “One hop this time!” they both jumped in the air, though Hanzo stayed firmly on the ground.

“What is this?” he asked Danny, who stomped with the command as it came.

“A classic party dance!” she said to him, beginning to do a silly dance as the actual cha cha part came on. Hanzo just stared quizzically at her, but she shook her head, reaching over and grabbing his other hand to try and get him to dance with her. “Come on Hanzo! Dance with me!” she pleaded, pouting and widening her eyes. Hanzo stared at her for a moment, unmoving, before he started to nod his head a little. Danny grinned, giving him a quick hug before pulling back “I’ll take it!”

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