#Give clonk a moment to explain himself!

[p1nkshield]

Hi 👋 This is chapter four of the Estranged Uncle Au!

Just a warning there is mentions of cults and a scene that has Damian being Damian (AKA knife child) Please take care of yourselves! I hope you enjoy!

Clark was sweating buckets.

“I promise you I’m not in danger! This is all a big misunderstanding! Bruce isn’t even that creepy!”

Jazz rattled off several reasons.

“He has a cloyingly sweet public persona, his personal computer has extensive information on all of the local rogues in the area and all the adopted sons we’ve met look practically identical to both each other and you and Danny! Not to mention they all seem trained for combat! How is that not creepy?”

Okay from an impartial standpoint Clark could see how it looked like he was tied up in a cult.

“I swear if another fruitloop billionaire obsessed with one of my family members tries to adopt me I’m gonna wail!”

How specific!

“Wail?” Clark began to ask but was cut off.

“Are you tied up in a cult Clark? Because we can get you out if you are! I … uh know a guy who specializes in taking down cults.”

What?

“I promise you I’m not in a cult! The blue eyes and black hair is a coincidence and I am not in danger! Also what do you mean you know a guy who specializes in taking down cults!?!”

Danny squinted.

“Hold that thought. Everyone stop talking!”

Danny reached towards Clark’s shoulder and picked out a small device, no bigger than a grain of rice out of his cable knit sweater.

“No one who plants listening devices into sweaters isn’t creepy.”

He then promptly threw it to the ground and crushed it with his heel.

“That’s the end of the recording.” Tim said while cringing.

“Sleazy?!? Me? Sleazy? I did a back handspring on hardwood floors for them and they call me sleazy?!”

Dick thought that he could win them over. Was he too heavy handed?

“It’s probably because you fell asleep in the pico de gallo timber.” Jason joked as he inspected the weapons vault.

“What? Me?!? I was the only one who made any headway! I was just up late trying to track whoever was hacking us!” Tim defended.

“Well good news! You found ‘em! Let me know when they hack my library account seeing as the Big bad bat computer is being hacked by a couple teens.” Jason said dismissively as he took a flamethrower fuel canister.

Bruce was experiencing a new amalgamation of emotions. He was both incredibly embarrassed, incredibly amused and incredibly impressed.

How embarrassing that the bat computer was hacked! He put so much effort into the protection of his data!

But then again Clark must be beside himself trying to convince them he wasn’t in a cult and that was incredibly amusing. He even said all the things that people said when they were in denial about being in a cult!

This was absurd! The only way to describe this was absurd!

“Fools! All of you do not truly understand the gravitas of the situation! If they believe that we are indeed weapons dealers they may snoop further and compromise all of our secret identities!” Damian huffed his way into the view of his family.

“We’ll be alright Dami, Tim is reinforcing our defenses for the computer and we’re going to try and disengage for a while. If we keep on trying we might make it worse.” Dick ruffled through Damian’s hair despite many protests.

Damian tutted at this suggestion. They needed to approach the problem head on and quickly rectify the situation lest it spiral into a larger one. Perhaps if they suffered an accident.

“Damian! I know that face! That’s the face you make when you go off and try to rectify the situation by yourself!”

“That is not true Grayson! I was simply thinking about confiding in my companion about how tedious my science project is.”

“You promise you’re only going to engage in age appropriate activities like science homework and book reports?”

“I promise.”

"I'm choosing to believe you" Dick began to walk away before pulling another sour face. "...Sleazy?"

Damian checked his hidden blades one final time before encroaching upon this Daniel Fenton who had foolishly entered an alleyway. He deftly held a knife to the throat of his target.

"If you continue to snoop into my father's business I will not hesitate to cut you down!"

Damian was expecting to me met with fear and copious apologies. He was a fearsome and terrifying warrior after all.

"Are you trying to hold me at knifepoint on your tippy-toes?" The target said in the same tone that one would use with a kitten trying to jump a bit too high. They should be focused on the clear danger Damian was posing. Or at least the danger he was posing. Between the moment Damian looked at his feet and the moment he looked back up to find a very unperturbed Danny.

"Did your father put you up to this?" He asked.

"No! I acted of my own accord!"

"Well are there anymore ineffective threats you want to say?"

Damian was about to say something when his stomach audibly growled. Curses! He could not bring a meal in order to maintain secrecy from Alfred! Damian slowly looked up towards Danny's face. He has that look that Grayson gets before he does something annoying like ruffle his hair.

"Are you hungry?"

Damian did not dignify this question with an answer and began to storm off.

"I'm having some friends over, we can spare you a plate! My friend Sam chose the menu though so its vegan."

Damian stopped in his tracks.

"What is it that you are making?"

"Cauliflower gnocchi with cashew cream pesto."

"And this is taking place in Clark's home?"

"yep."

"Fine. But I will not be lenient with you because you've offered me a meal!"

Danny laughed and texted Sam

"Hey get another bundle of basil Im bringing a guest"

[soft--dragon]

Hi! I'm a big fan of your headcanons, and I was wondering if you could make some for c!Bbh? Take as much time as you need obv

Demonic Bad who acts like a Dad, sure thing Krispy! :D

Ler

Can alter his size at will. Whether it to be able to go through caves and avoid clonking his head on things, to growing himself a bit more to reach something on a top shelf. He also grows bigger when he needs to distribute some punishment to people who cuss frequently

Will scoop up his target and place them in his lap to wreck them, using his strength with the altered size to his advantage

Uses his tail against his lee all the time, it's soft despite the sharp tip. He'll wriggle it along someone's foot or slip it underneath shirts to wag against stomachs

CLAWS. HE HAS GODDAMN CLAWS AND THEY ARE THE WORST

Sapnap and Skeppy, Bad's typical targets, can confirm that Bad's claws are wicked ticklers. Able to take someone apart in seconds, Bad's claws can wreck anyone

Tommy is also a target for Bad with how much he curses, he's been wrecked by the demon more than once yet that doesn't stop him from yelling blasphemy any chance gets

Bad has fangs. Ya know fangs? Yeah, Bad has those. Those long teeth? Badboyhalo possesses them. Did I mention Bad has fangs?

Nibbles are his last resort because he knows how much his fangs tickle, Skeppy's shrieks of laughter made that very clear to him at an early stage of tickle fights.

Compliments, coos and gushes over his lee

He loves complimenting them!!! Their laughter? Their smiles? Their reactions? All good things to point out and cherish according to Mr Halo

If you blush, you can bet your ass he's gonna call you out on it and coo over it. That's the rules

Purrs and wags his tail when he tickles someone, usually laughs with them too because he gets so happy when people are happy

He uses the method of "If you curse, another minute gets added to your Tickle Timer." It is not a joke that Skeppy, Sapnap, Dream and Tommy have have the longest records for time tickled by Badboyhalo, they can't control their language very well

Tickle hugs!! He does this all the time!! Few things will make him happier than holding someone in his arms and wriggling his fingers into their sensitive spots to get them giggling

A big fan of tickle kisses - primarily used on his son Sapnap and Skeppy - just dropping his lips onto their stomachs or necks and giving a small kiss that's typically followed by a raspberry. Neither Skeppy or Sapnap can handle it and get flustered very fast, but the affection is nice so who are they to complain?

Lee

More ler leaning but Bad is a pretty sensitive demon!

Compared to other demons from his realm, Bad is considered a "lower" class of demonic entity, and while he is a force to be reckoned with when he's mad, he's also less protected from forces out to get him.

"Forces out to get him" is another way of saying "lers on the loose"

His soft spots consist of his tail, his back, his shoulders and ears

I like the idea of Bad having either a demonic birthmark or tattoo on his back, and when Skeppy saw it for the first time he asked if he could touch it. It could've been a tender moment of Skeppy tracing over the tattoo and Bad explaining the meaning behind it as they lie in bed. But realistically it was Bad fighting for his life not to squirm like crazy as Skeppy gently glided his nails over the marked skin and pretended he didn't know what he was doing

As Sapnap got older he learned his dad's soft spots through Skeppy and started fighting back, creating some of the most chaotic and fun tickle fights in history. Sapnap plays dirty but Bad has a millennium of experience for tickling and knows how to play just as unfair

Purrs when he gets tickled around his ears and under his chin, literal cat behaviour and Skeppy teases him about it constantly

He's a bit of a squirmier but he's pretty good at staying still when asked to - cleaning, massage, stuff like that, it just takes a bit of concentration

Hope these were okay Krispy :D

[foreficfandom]

Mystic Messenger - First Time With MC (Lemon)

(Author’s notes: These scenarios do NOT assume a gender for MC, but do write the boys penetrating the reader.)

– Zen –

This isn’t his first rodeo, but he’s not exactly experienced; he’s had, like, one-and-a-half relationships before you. It’s been years since he’s had partnered sex.

And he’s never had sex-ed, either, so his knowledge of the Nasty is kinda lacking. He thinks he can re-use condoms as long as he keeps it on, he believes coconut oil can be used with latex, he thinks birth control pills act as a spermicide, and so on.

You and him initiate sex pretty early on in the relationship, perhaps merely a few days after the RFA party. He’s very romantic about it, too, planning a whole day in advance with rose petals on the bed and scented candles dotting his room. But in the middle of making out, you ask if he’s clean, and he pulls back, confused. “... I think? I mean, I haven’t been with anybody in years, so ...”

Turns out he’s never been tested for STDs. He’s almost offended when you bring it up, like you’re insinuating he’s been cheating on you. You have to explain that getting tested is just what everyone does before having sex with someone for the first time. 

So ... he’s not tested. “Can we ... still do it?” He’s blushing like crazy now, embarrassed he’s so behind on the know-how when he’s the one who wanted this in the first place. 

Partnered sex can still be relatively safe even when an individual’s not been tested, so long as you use lots of protection. But depending on who you are, you might say no, just to be 100% safe. Either way, Zen’s disappointed - not in you, no way, but in himself. God, he’s been looking forward to this night for so long, and he fucked it up by being stupid. He stews in his thoughts silently for a while, and you can tell he’s feeling down so you cuddle him close to have a good long chat about sex, relationships, and communication. Afterwards, he feels much less insecure. The two of you take the rose petals and candles to the bathroom to enjoy your first romantic bath together, instead.

Two days later, he bounces back from the clinic with a negative on every test imaginable. It’s finally time to dig in, and go ham he does, passionately wrapping you into his arms while thrusting deep and slow, trying to have as much skin contact at all times. Oh, god, he loves you, and he’ll spend the whole night proving it.

(Except he definitely couldn’t last the whole night. Your first time having sex was a mere two turns before he clonked out. He’s still embarrassed about that.)

– Yoosung –

It’s his first time having sex, and he’s really nervous. He wants it, wants you badly, but oh my god what if he messes up? What if he farts? Or scratches you in the face? Or he thrusts weird and hurts you and you start bleeding or something?? Dear lord help him

He considers proposing sex like, eight different times. He’s always chickened out, just kissing you on the doorstep before saying goodbye, or letting you leave his dorm without offering to stay the night. It doesn’t help that his dorm is tiny, he’s got a twin bed barely big enough for him. And anybody passing by the door would hear what’s going on inside clear as day. Take his word on that.

He had spent several hours worth on his laptop, doing research on ‘how to have sex for the first time’. He’s got his list of positions to try, how to minimize pain and discomfort, etc, all memorized.. He eventually goes out to get condoms and lube, making sure to use the self-checkout. 

You and him are hanging out in his dorm after a date, and he wasn’t even planning to suck it up and ask you, but you saw the condoms in the shopping bag he forgot to stow away, and you asked him gently, “do you want to be intimate with me, Yoosung?”

He blushes like crazy, you could swear you saw steam lines radiating from his face. But you take his hand in encouragement and he nods eagerly, looking anywhere else but your eyes. “I - I really want this, MC. I’ve been thinking about this for so long ...”

You can tell he’s nervous. The two of you sit on his bed and talk explicitly about what he wants, how you should proceed, what lines to avoid, and lots of other important details. A safeword is confirmed; ‘server maintenance’. He feels much more confident. 

The two of you begin by just kissing on his bed, he slowly dares to feel up your shirt and eventually the clothes come off bit by bit. His body is lean and soft, and he’s loud, too. Just nipping at his pillowy tummy makes him cry out. 

You give him oral, and he’s twisting around, grabbing at pillows and sheets like he’s tumbling down a cliff. He comes without warning and collapses, wrung out and overwhelmed with pleasure. 

Some cuddling afterwards, and then he’s hard again and kissing at your neck. He asks you to ride him, and when you do, he’s sobbing without shame and grabbing hard at your hips.

Some time afterwards, when you and Yoosung are trying to cuddle on his bed without either of you toppling off, he remembers just how loud he’s been and dreads facing anybody in the building tomorrow. You just laugh and tuck him into the bedsheets.

– Jaehee –

She shyly shows off a beautiful new set of lingerie as her way of asking to ‘take the relationship to the next level’. And she’s a real bombshell in it. It’s sometimes easy to forget that Jaehee’s got a bod underneath her suit/cafe uniform.

Unlike certain younger boys, Jaehee didn’t feel the need to agonize over this night over a period of several months. This is a natural progression for her. Once things feel ready between the two of you, it’s natural that the question eventually comes up.

She first shows you her new lingerie in its original packaging, and waits to hear your ‘yes’. Then, it’s time to hop into the bathtub for a long soak and thorough wash before putting it on.

She also gets new toys. Entire shopping bags and shipping boxes filled with insertables, vibrators, pumps, impacts, (and also the supplies needed to maintain them). She didn’t come out and show you these all at once, she’d probably die of embarrassment if she did. But she had them all unwrapped, clean, tested, and ready to use in a discreet box.

You and she actually end up making out on the couch rather than the bedroom. She’s sitting in your lap dressed in her lingerie, you’re fully clothed, and things get so heated the two of you decide to go at it right there.

She’s surprisingly wild. She keeps as much of her lingerie on as possible, even while you’re knuckle deep or pelvis-to-pelvis. The floor is eventually lined with toys as one is used after the other. And she loves taking the initiative with a gentle but firm hand, directing the positions one after the other, or deciding what toy to be used where, and for how long.

A round on the couch, and Jaehee cools down long enough to freak out about staining the upholstery, so she ushers you into the bedroom while she busts out the Lysol. 

After she cleans up, she joins you on the bed for some belated cuddling, and perhaps a second round. Or three.

And it’s actually in the middle of the day, not during the night, so the two of you are completely worn out by dinnertime. Food is takeout, and there’s a lot of it because you need to replenish all that energy.  

Jaehee doesn’t get blushy until you feed her a bite of dessert. It’s cute how confident she is when it comes to sex, but shy about small acts of intimacy. 

– Jumin –

He’s not a virgin, (not that it’s any of your business, Luciel), he had sex with a random girl back in college just to see what the fuss was about, and nothing else since then.

Jumin’s a conservative guy. “Liberalism can only flourish with a good foundation of conservatism.” He believes unmarried couples shouldn’t live together. Of course he’s not gonna be fond of having sex before tying the knot.

It’s not like he rushed the engagement for that reason, but if he was perfectly honest, he did wake up in a cold sweat at 3am when he remembered that this meant the two of you would be intimate very soon. 

Jumin’s got that reputation for being some d/s sex-mad sadist daddy, but that’s not the full picture. You might be able to get him into that specific mood after the two of you establish your relationship more. But for the first few times, it’s all vanilla.

It takes a long while before the wedding actually happens. And, no, Jumin’s not gonna really want to have sex for that entire period. Sure, he’s excited about it, but it’s not a driving, burning need. You, on the other hand, might say differently. 

So if you don’t want to wait four to five months, you’re gonna have to breach the topic yourself. And he’ll be torn - on one hand, he rationally realizes that it’s completely harmless to have consensual sex without martial ties. But he also believes in that supposed virtue of being abstinent until marriage. He also liked the romance of waiting. It’d make the moment more special for him.

Either way, he’s excited. The bed’s furnished with fresh sheets, the lights are dimmed, and there’s five dozen roses in crystal vases throughout the bedroom. 

It’ll start with wine while sitting on the bed - if you don’t drink, you have a glass of something you prefer while he’s sipping on some $12,000 vintage - and he drills a hole in your face with his loving gaze while singing your virtues. He wants you naked before he is, so after some kissing you’ll be nude on the sheets while he finally takes his clothes off.

Jumin has no idea what sex is ‘supposed’ to look like, which is both good and bad - you can tell him to do anything, and he’s not gonna worry about feeling awkward or stupid. But he also needs to be told to do anything. 

If you want him to go faster, or use more tongue, you have to tell him. He’s not gonna take the initiative. If you want him to switch positions, you need to describe exactly how you want to position yourselves. It’s a mixed blessing.

The first round goes quite a while because Jumin was taking it slow. There’s a second round where he gets more adventurous, and maybe a third round depending on how you feel. 

The next morning, the chef’s been hired to prepare a special breakfast, and you can tell that they know. Jumin doesn’t care. He just smiles all day.

– Saeyoung –

He actually was a virgin, which was kinda a surprise. His agent job never require any sort of sex-related work, thank god, and it’s not like he ever earned the attention of anybody else before this point. 

If an agency job had enough time to have sex while in the field, then that meant the job was going down the dumps fast. And whenever Agent 707 was involved, a job never nosedived that far.

It’s (semi) canon that Saeyoung asked to be intimate during the after-ending, while on the search for his brother. It was the night before all your plans would come to fruition, and he didn’t know he would come back alive. “I want to leave evidence on you that I existed.”

But it’s ALSO canon that in Saeyoung’s ‘dark chocolate’ Valentine’s Day ending, he asks to ‘take the relationship to the next level’. Which implies that the two of you haven’t had sex yet. 

So what’s the dealio? Basically, Saeyoung wanted to have sex with you that night in the cabin, and after some kissing, you realized that you (1) didn’t have protection, (2) neither of you have been tested recently, and (3) your current emotional states weren’t ideal for sex, especially since Saeyoung was a virgin. He left a lot of hickies on your neck instead, and the two of you held each other close the whole night. 

By the time Valentine’s Day rolled around, it had been two months since Saeran was rescued and Saeyoung was feeling a lot happier. You made it to the end of the scavenger hunt to find an amorous redhead that was ~prepared~ this time. An entire shopping bag full of prophylactics, lube, band-aids, water bottles, and everything. 

He managed to fake a confident persona up until he undressed you fully, then he found himself blushing like crazy when you undressed him in turn. Damn, he really was hiding muscles underneath that hoodie. His arms were woven cable, and underneath his pudge you could feel shapely abs. 

He asked to be on top, you complied, rolling over and allowing him to explore your body with his hands and mouth. It took three tries to enter you, because without his glasses, you were a bit of a blurry blob. But once he was in, he went at it. Maybe even a bit too enthusiastic for the first few thrusts, he was just running on some animalistic instinct he didn’t know he had. 

Two minutes later, he was blindsided by a surprise orgasm. Embarrassed, he rolled off of you and buried his face into the sheets. You had to stroke his hair soothingly for ten minutes before he would look you in the face. 

Saeyoung’s first evening of sex had one ‘disastrous’ first try, then a much better second run, and then after dinner there was a third ... and also .5 a prance while in the shower.  

– Saeran –

You’re his first sexual partner, but more than that, today also marks a big step in his self-confidence. He’s cashing in his newfound tolerance for his body and constitution. Saeran spent most of his life hating his ‘weak’ health and thinking anybody’d be repulsed by him. He wouldn’t have sex if he didn’t believe differently. 

So it’s probably several months - perhaps years - into your relationship that he even brings up having sex. Even though he may be ready, he’s still nervous and shy and unsure about how to proceed. 

Before the big night, he spends several minutes in front of the mirror, looking at his body. He’s gained weight and a new color to his skin thanks to his healthier lifestyle, and there’s this confidence to his posture that wasn’t there before. A sparkle in his eye. It’s incredible how far he’s come from hating every inch of himself. He smiles.

He prepares one of his Patented Saeran’s Romantic Dinners, complete with candlelight and ambient music. The two of you have done this several times before, but this time there’s an electricity in the air ‘cause of what’s to come. You notice that the food has no garlic, or other strong smells. Saeran’s more cunning than he looks. 

As dessert finishes up, he gets more quiet, until the conversation dies down and there’s nothing for it; he takes a deep breath and says, “....Sh-shall we go to bed?” Like this hasn’t been planned weeks in advance. The two of you walk hand-in-hand to the bedroom, where there’s even more candles and another stereo playing soft music, and you picture Saeran putting together a ‘having sex for the first time’ playlist.

You begin by kissing Saeran lying beneath you, but he stops you with a hand on your shoulder and asks to switch positions, because he doesn’t like the feeling of you hovering over him. It’s another mark of his progress that he asks for adjustments. 

Things progress slowly. Saeran feels out what makes him feel anxious, and what makes him feel good. The two of you end up side-by-side as he takes you, facing each other with your legs wrapped around his waist. Very intimate. Very sweet. He loves threading his fingers through your hair, and he mewls every time you fondle his ears. 

His health is still shaky, so he only has the stamina for one round before he needs to rest. He all but demands you inch as close as possible so he falls asleep holding you tight. When he wakes up the next morning, he’s got a 1000-watt smile. 

– Jihyun –

Out of the entire wacky cast of Mystic Messenger boys, Jihyun’s the only actual experienced one. You don’t have to tell him that a single pack of five condoms is waaayy too little, you don’t have to explain what dental dams are, or worry about him using oil-based lube on accident, and he’s the only one who actually showers thoroughly beforehand. 

It begins with your typical night of cuddling-and-kissing, then Jihyun says he’s clean and he’s got a bedside cabinet full of supplies. He gently holds your hand and asks, ‘”if you’d like …? We could … if you’re comfortable. If you’d have me.” He’s blushing, but he’s confident. 

Of course, even if you’re experienced, the first time with anybody is gonna be awkward. And Jihyun’s a surprisingly big guy to maneuver. There’s a lot of accidental elbowing, bonking of the heads, kneeling on sensitive bits, and little scrapes. His long limbs seemingly end up everywhere on the bed, and it’s like you’re playing twister. 

Mistakes just make him laugh. You trip over his outstretched forearm and face plant into his shoulder, and he just chuckles and pulls you into another kiss. 

He’s just so soft and loving. ‘Cause to Jihyun, it’s about ~making love~. He wants to go slow, looking into your eyes, cradling your head and burying his face into the crook of your neck. 

Tries to get you off first, either through oral or otherwise. He’s not a big fan of any positions that turn you away from him, it’s just too rough and aggressive. He’d rather carry you on his shoulders before he prefers doggy style. 

Checks in with you constantly, asks what you like and where you like to be touched. Tries to get you to literally guide his hands. In turn, he asks you to please, touch his legs, his thighs ... yes, kiss me there - 

For your first time, he’d rather have a one-two long sessions than multiple quick ones. He believes sex is one of the most intimate methods of non-verbal communication, and the longer you go in one sitting, the more is passed between the two of you. 

He’s never used toys in his life. If you decide to pull one out for your first time, he’s gonna blush like crazy and actually decline. He wants the first night to be 'organic’. And he’s so driven towards that romantic face-to-face lovemaking, he won’t go too hard or fast, even if you’re begging him. 

After the sex, he wraps you up in a cozy blanket before fetching some hot tea and fresh fruit. Then there’s several minutes spent reviewing how things went, what things worked well, or how they can improved. He catalogues it all for later. 

He rarely wants to fall asleep right after sex, so you might pass out peacefully, but he’s gonna stay awake, just gazing at you for a while. 

[ninjastormhawkkat]

Morally Gray Wordgirl Au: Dr. Two Brains

This is an outline of Dr. Two Brains/Steven Boxleitner for the au.

-Since Steven becomes Two Brains early in this au, he never got a chance to write his superhero book, he just had the notes.

-Two Brains/Steven was in a dark place during the first days of his transformation. His identity was skewed, He separated himself from friends and family because he did not feel like Steven anymore. Also those people were a part of Steven’s life, not Two Brains. Besides, (according to him) would they want to associated with a villain/freak?. Two Brains was just focused on stealing cheese and working with his henchmen.

-Dr. Two Brains was out of touch with his humanity until he ran into a monkey and little girl. He saw the disheveled/hungry state of the monkey and the little girl and decide to offer them some of his cheese because that was the only thing he had on him. He was a villain now, not a heartless monster. The monkey then gave him the little girl to hold, which was a hold-up moment because Two Brains just offered food, he didn’t agree to hold a baby. Dr. Two Brains stared confusingly at the baby for a bit, not sure what to do. When the baby called him Daddy in a curious tone, something inside made him feel warm. An sort of parental instinct grew. In that moment, his humanity was aligned with his mouse-half. In that moment, he became a dad. He swore he would do anything to give her the best life he could and keep her happy and safe.

-Dr. Two Brain’s henchmen were surprised when their boss came home with a monkey and a baby, but later became ecstatic when they realized they were keeping them. They quickly became honorary uncles. Becky is about the only thing Two Brains and Steven agree on. They both love and care for her unconditionally. During the early years, Steven and Two Brains took turns on caring for Becky when the other was tired.

-Squeaky did not care for the new baby at first. He only wants cheese. When little Becky kissed the mouse brain one day after her daddy had a headache caused by Squeaky (she thought it was something akin to a bruise and wanted to kiss it to make it better like her daddy usually does for her) the mouse brain broke. (Squeaky exe. stopped working.) He is still the same in this au, but his attitude is now “If anything happens to Squeaky’s pup (Becky), Squeaky will destroy this entire city including himself!” Squeaky came into full control one time because Two Brains accidentally got clonked on the head and was unconscious. Becky was still young and did not fully understand why her dad was behaving differently. Squeaky treated her as his pup, with more animal instincts such as feeding her cheese and carrying her with his mouth. Becky at the time did not understand what was going on and thought it was a fun game her dad was playing with her while he was talking to her with a weird voice. Becky understood who Squeaky was when she got older and that experience for her while sweet, was ultimately an embarrassing moment. 

-Dr. Two Brains is eager to raise Becky in villainy, but he also wants to give her a somewhat normal life as well so she won’t be treated so differently and be lonely. (Let’s her go to Woodview Elementary and gives her the last name Boxleitner ex.)

-Becky had no clue about her dad’s past until she was the same age as her canon self. Dr. Two Brains did not purposefully keep his old life from her, he just wasn’t keen on reliving his past and just wanted to move on with his life after the accident. She does know his name was Steven Boxleitner, but Two Brains explained to Becky that he did not go by that name anymore yet it was fine for Becky to have his last name. Becky has seen a few photos of what her dad looked like. Since Becky had met her dad after the accident, there is no missing of who her dad used to be. She just treats learning about her dad as a childlike curiosity. Becky is fine with who her dad is because that is who raised and loved her throughout her life. (After seeing a photo of her dad before his accident, Becky commented that he looked weird then. Two Brains gave a hearty laugh at the irony.)

-Dr. Two Brains does answer Becky’s questions about his past after the episode “A Game of Cat and Mouse”. Becky does not press to far on emotional stuff and Two Brains decides it is better to be honest with his daughter because she is just curious. Two Brains does begin to reunite with his old colleagues, Professors Robert Tubing and James Doohickey. It is not the same friendship they had before the accident, but it is a start and there is some good mending.

-Dr. Two Brains had a strained relationship with his family. He kept them away for their own protection. After the years of raising Becky, he does begin to try and reunite with them, for closure or other emotional reasons. When they do reunite, their is a lot of emotion, tears, angst, yelling, and a lot of hurt/comfort. (Steven has been gone for about 10 years!). There are mixed reactions from his family. Some relatives are wary of him which is reasonable. They meet him, glad he is doing alright, wish him the best, and that is it. They may check up on him from time to time, but no personal interactions which is fine by Two Brains and Becky as they both understand the reasons. Other relatives just shun Two Brains, calling him a villain, monster, and want nothing to do with him. Two Brains is a little hurt, but ultimately doesn’t care. He never really had a relationship with these people before his accident. Becky is angry and is almost tempted to destroy their property. Two Brains and Bob stop this and tell her it is not worth it. That is fine but if any of them come to Fair City and are attacked, Wordgirl will just turn the other way or watch in a secluded spot with popcorn. Dr. Two Brains parents and siblings along with some other close family members are just happy to have him back in their lives. They understand that Two Brains is not just Steven anymore and respect that. (His siblings sometimes call him cartoon mouse names such as ‘Basil’ or ‘Jerry’ to just tease him. Becky, the Henchmen, and Bob find this hilarious; Two Brains and Squeaky are unamused.) Becky is adored as a grandchild/niece/younger cousin. Becky and Two Brains’s niece get along really well. Becky sees her as an older sister. Both Two Brains and Becky goes to unnamed niece’s graduation. 

-Dr. Two Brains in this au has come to terms with himself. He is still a villain but also a good father for his daughter. He is both a mouse and human and is fine with the life he has now. Two Brains may retire one day from villainy, but he will still be himself and he is happy with that. 

-Dr. Two Brains, like Tobey, suspects that Becky is Wordgirl. While he may be a little disappointed that his daughter may grow up to be a superhero, he sees how happy she is and will support her as well as wait for her to tell him the truth. Besides, Becky is still a kid, there is a lot time to decide on whether to become a full villain or hero.  

[sserpente]

A/N: Request from anon. I really missed writing Kylo. This is only the beginning. Will you guys join me on the dark side?

Words: 1825 Warnings: one baby spoiler for TROS

It would have been a lot easier to say that Kylo Ren had changed. It would have been easier to live with the fact your man was beyond saving, beyond redemption. But that would be a lie. It would make things less complicated, stop your moral compass from spinning wildly and make you nauseous.

You scoffed. Kylo Ren wasn’t your man anyway. He was your superior, the man you had promised your loyalty and devotion to years ago. Kylo knew you. Your motivations, your story, your thoughts. He could hear them—there was no need for you to block your mind from his intrusion in his presence. You kept no secrets, not from him. To Kylo Ren, your life was an open book.

And while Kylo Ren had not changed much since appointing himself as the new Supreme Leader of the First Order, his conviction and determination had. He was fiercer, plagued by his own unease and doubts. There was no need for you to know the ways of the Force to sense the battle he fought deep within himself.

It did not matter what he wanted, in the end as long as you could stay by his side. You thought about it often, these days. What would happen if the Resistance found a way to foil his plans and overthrow him? Would they kill him, Leia’s only son? And what would become of you if he won, if he succeeded? Would your life change at all?

At this time of the day, the canteen was deserted. Lunch time was long over. You sat there at one of the sterile-white tables, playing around with the starfruit you had meant to eat. The tension on the Finalizer had heated up consideringly ever since Snoke’s death and the escape of the young Jedi girl Kylo had been spending months to hunt down.

He knew you were jealous at the connection they shared, this Force bond he had called it. The Force had its ways, he had explained to you, ways which a mortal’s mind would not always be able to grasp and comprehend; that you should not waste your time and cudgel your brains about it—and yet it did not link the two Force users for no reason. And what did it matter to you? Kylo Ren was not your man anyway.

He had just imposed a meeting. Upon his arrival on the Finalizer, he rushed past you in frenzy, failing to even acknowledge your existence. Black cloak floating behind him like the pitch black waves of a stormy sea, gloved fists clenched tensely, eyes… his eyes would have been fixed on his destination, had they not been shielded by a terrifying replica of his mask. Red cracks broke the smoothness of the black material, giving his appearance an even more threatening component.

Here you were now, dressed up and with nowhere to go, wishing desperately you had the ability to look inside his mind for a change. Kylo Ren had never made the promise to tell you about the mayhem in his head, never bound himself to sharing his secrets with you—and yet you were the only person alive on the Finalizer to know it was him who killed Snoke, not the Jedi girl.

Rey. Kylo never spoke her name and you still could not bring yourself to call her anything but the Jedi girl. This young woman which had caused him so much pain and trouble and who he was as of right now, hunting like a needle in a haystack.

“You.” The two Stormtroopers approached you from behind. Well, there was nothing to fear. You glared at them from the corners of your eye. Hanging in the canteen outside of mealtimes was no crime.

“The Supreme Leader demands your presence, in the conference room.”

Right now? How much time had passed? Was the meeting over already? What could he want from you now? You rarely communicated outside of his or your quarters.

You followed them with a frown. They were very well aware you knew the way to the conference room yourself. In fact, you knew this ship better than any other place in this galaxy, and according to their body language, Kylo Ren was angry. Surely they were glad not to end up at the receiving end of the threatening crackling of his red lightsabre.

“Break a leg.” One of the Stormtroopers scorned. Literally. You rolled your eyes when the metal doors flew open, revealing an empty table. Kylo Ren had his back turned to you but it did not matter. He could sense your presence already, hear your thoughts and the dozens of questions tumbling through your mind helplessly.

“Supreme Leader, you sent for me?” The doors behind you closed, cutting off the only possible exit route.

“So formal?” The modulated, stern sound of his voice through his new mask sent ice cold shivers down your spine but even that could not hide the teasing undertone with only the slightest hint of mockery.

“What’s going on? The officers you sent for to fetch me clearly hold the view I won’t make it out of this room alive. Where were you?”

“That is none of your concern.”

“Take off your mask.”

“In here? I don’t think so.” Finally, he turned around but he might as well could have kept facing the window. It made no difference. You still couldn’t see his face.

“I want to look you in the eye when I speak to you! Where does this mask even come from all of a sudden? I thought you destroyed it. Explain that to me, will you?”

“That’s an awful lot of demands you’re imposing, officer. I would be careful if I were you.” Were the Stormtroopers outside eavesdropping? Were they waiting for the moment Kylo would activate his lightsabre and slice you in half, decapitate you? They would be waiting in vain.

“I get it. You don’t want to talk about it but clearly, something’s not right. You’re tense. I don’t even need to see your face for that.”

Kylo tilted his head. You should have thought you were done for when he approached you with but a few determined steps, towering above you like a literal giant but you knew you had no reason to. He would never harm you. For just a split second, all you saw was black. Black robes, black boots, black gloves, black mask—along with the sound of rapid, human breathing giving away that underneath the grotesque metal veil there was a man with a beating heart.

“Your perception has always fascinated me. Are you sure you feel no connection to the Force? Intuition, at this level—“

“Oh, for Heaven’s sake, Kylo, take off that bloody mask!”

One second passed, then the next. Kylo said nothing more. He did not move an inch before reaching up to undo the clasps of his disguise and lifted it off of his head. He dropped it on the metal conference table with a loud clonk echoing through the room.

Thunderstorms rippled through your heart when your eyes met. His breathing had gotten even heavier, his full lips slightly parted. The warm air hit your forehead like a gentle summer breeze. You had not felt those in a long while.

But it was the terror and the desperation, his feelings torn between good and bad glistening in his brown eyes when they met yours that you fell silent.

His right hand twitched, a barely visible movement of his gloved fingers refraining from reaching out for you. And while you were only inches apart, you reacted before he could voice a request.

With a gentle sigh, you wrapped your arms around him, your face buried in his neck, enabling you to inhale the scent of his thick black hair. Kylo pressed you against him like he was holding on to a buoy in midst of a roaring sea, nearly knocking all air from your lungs. The warmth of his body filled you with a sense of security and easiness—it felt powerful to simply hold whom you knew as the most powerful man of the galaxy.

Your fingers dug into the black curtain of his hair, fondling him in an attempt to calm the inner storm he was struggling against. It was then the quietest of moans escaped his gorgeous lips upon your intimate touch, resulting in him hugging you so tightly he nearly lifted you off the metal floor to your feet. Eventually, he did.

He heaved you on the table effortlessly, your legs spread for him to stand between them, your limbs still entangled. Breath ghosting over each other’s lips, your proximity created a bond which the Force could never have compared to.

You could not always tell what was going on inside of this man’s head, or what he was going through. But you knew when his lips came crashing down on yours that Kylo Ren had made a decision. One you did not understand just yet, one you did not yet know about. You did not have to. What counted was that you were there for him.

-

Check out my blog to find more Imagines and take a glimpse at my first (to be) published novel! Also, if you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate so much if you supported me on Kofi! ko-fi.com/sserpente

[host-club-hq]

Call of the Scar pt. 3

➼ pairing: harry potter x reader

➼ genre: sfw, fluffy, fantasy

➼ word-count: 3.4k

➼ summary: Harry Potter and Y/N Weasley embark on their great journey together in their fourth year at Hogwarts. What does this unsuspecting year hold for them?

➼ part 3 of many :)

➼ want to request? do it here. let me know what i can write for you :)

Dumbledore rises and nods to the back of the Hall, signaling Filch, who begins to limp forward with an old chest.

"I wold like to say a few words before we bring in the casket." The Hall stops and looks to Dumbledore at the front of the Professors' tables. 

"Casket. Did he say casket?" you lean over to Hermione to confirm your suspicions. Hermione nods.

"Eternal glory. That is what awaits the student who wins the Triwizard Tournament. But to do so, that student must survive three tasks. Three very dangerous tasks.”

"Wicked." Fred and George mutter with identical smirks adorning their features.

"You see, the Triwizard Tournament has an unfortunate history of killing off its participants. For this reason, the Ministry has seen fit to impose a new rule. To explain, we have the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, Mr. Bartemius Crouch-"

CRACK!

A stitch of lightning flashes across the enchanted ceiling and the torches along the walls flicker, casting the Hall into and eerie semi-darkness. The rear doors fly open and a man stands in dark silhouette, clad in a long black traveling cloak, clutching a staff. Lighting flashes again and Alastor "Mad-eye" Moody is revealed, all grizzled grey hair and scarred flesh. As he limps forward- CLONK! CLONK!- all eyes shift to his wooden leg while the electric blue eye imbedded in his skull scans the Hall warily.

"Bloody hell. That's Mad-eye Moody." Ron speaks aloud.

"Alastor Moody? The Auror?" Hermione corrects as she leans to get a look of him.

"Auror?" Dean Thomas pipes up from where he's seated.

"Dark wizard catcher. Half the cells in Azkaban are filled thanks to him. Supposed to be mad as hatter these days, though. Sees Death Eaters in his dustbins." Ron sighs in disappointment of the once great man.

"Dark wizard catcher?" you take a sudden interest in the profession as it's mentioned in this passing conversation. 

Another bolt of lightning flashes. Annoyed, Moody points his wand to the ceiling and, casting a red jet of flames, calming the enchanted sky. Slowly, the torches regain their bloom.

Satisfied, Moody pockets his wand, brings out a flask, and tips it to his lips. Harry watches his every move, fascinated. 

"That's that he's drinking, d'you suppose?" Seamus quietly inquires. 

"Dunno, but I don't think it's pumpkin juice." you grimace. 

Moody and Dumbledore exchange whispers and a handshake, then Moody takes one of the remaining seat at the tall table. The staff eye him in mute disbelief. 

"Barty, as you were saying..." Dumbledore gestures for Barty to continue. 

Barty Crouch blinks and turns back to the stunned students. 

"After due consideration, the Ministry has concluded that, for their own safety, no student under the age of seventeen will be allowed to put forth their name for the Triwizard Tournament. This decision is final." Barty winces when the uproar of upset underage students begins and he does his best to ignore them.

"What?!" Fred is bewildered. 

"That's rubbish!" George shakes his fist angrily. 

"SILENCE!" Dumbledore bellows. He says this so forcefully the result is absolute. 

"Thank you."

Taking his wand, Dumbledore turns to the casket and gives it three taps. As the lip opens, he removes a wooden cup dancing with blue-white flames.

"The Goblet of Fire. Anybody wishing to submit themselves to the Tournament need only write their name upon a piece of parchment and drop it into the flame within the next twenty-four hours. Do not do so lightly. If chosen, there is no turning back. As of this moment... the Triwizard Tournament has begun."

With a massive thud, Moody drops a textbook onto Neville's desk, the same textbook on everybody's desk: The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection.

"I see you all slogged down to Flourish & Blotts like good little boys and girls and bought the textbook. Congratulations... it'll make a find doorstop." Moody sneers. 

The students exchanged confused glances and then glance back down at their textbooks. Not like most were going to read them, anyways. Moody turns. 

"I'm Alastor Moody, ex-Auror, Ministry malcontent and your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I'm here because Dumbledore asked me. End of story, goodbye, the end. Any questions?" Moody's blue eyes scan the silent classroom and land on Harry. Harry stares back, willing himself to hold the old warrior's horrifying visage. Moody turns away and takes his flask.

"When it comes to the Dark Arts, I believe in a practical approach. You may wonder what I mean by that. I'll show you. But first, which of you can tell me..." Moody takes a sour tug on the flask, snatches up a specimen jar, and watches a spider scuttle within.

"... how many Unforgivable Curses are there?"

The students trade uneasy glances. Finally, Hermione's hand raises tentatively. As his real eye continues to stare at the spider, Moody's blue eye rotates into Hermione.

"I might've known. Go on, Granger." Moody encourages. 

"There are three, sir-" She stops. "How did you know..." Moody circles again.

"Your name? I know a bit more than that. You're top of your class- correct?"

"Yes, sir..."

"Naturally inquisitive?"

"Yes..."

"Socially inept?"

"Well..."

"And... Muggle born." Moody stops, eye raking over the others.

"I'm not about to walk into a room full of strangers without doing background. Constant vigilance!" Moody jabs his staff into the floor right in front of you and Harry. As the class jumps, Harry studies Moody's scars. 

"Girl Weasley!" He exclaims. Your eyes rake up to meet his with anxiety swimming in your irises. 

"Sir?" you gulp.

"Don't think I didn't research your background as well." Moody makes sure of that.

"I don't doubt you did, sir." your eyes fail to maintain eye contact. 

"Twin sister of Ronald Weasley?"

"Yes, sir."

"Always alert?"

"I would think so-"

"Bossy?"

"I-... I would suppose I am-"

Moody speaks to Harry. "The devil likes disguises. Never forget that." He nods. Harry remains transfixed. Finally, Moody moves on. You let out a hitched breath and slouch your tensed shoulders. 

"He's right, you are bossy." Harry smiles mischievously. Your eyes shift to look at his and you make no comment, which is highly unusual for you, given your nature. Harry's smile disappears when he notices your irregular breathing and the tears welling up beneath your eyelids. He assumes you didn't take Moody's comment well and he'd taken it a step further. You turn away and Harry reaches for your shoulder cautiously. 

"Wait, Y/N, I-"

"Again, Granger. How many curses?" Moody speaks again and Harry instinctively shuts his mouth. 

Hermione hesitates, noticing the glossy nature of your eyes before she realizes she's being spoken to. She steals once last glance at you before she turns to Moody. 

"Three." She replies. 

"And they're so named...?"

"Because they're unforgivable. The use of any one of them..." Hermione's voice shakes. 

"... will earn you a one-way ticket to Azkaban, correct. Now, the Ministry says you're too young to see what these curses do, I say different! You need to know what you're up against. You need to be prepared. You need to find another place to put your gum besides the underside of your desk, Mr. Finnigan!"

Seamus blinks, caught in the act. He whispers to his desk mate. "Blimey. The old codger can see out of the back of his head..." Moody whirls around and chucks the chalk he was writing with in Seamus's direction.

"... and hear across classrooms! So. Which curse shall we see first? Weasley!"

"Y-yes?" Ron gasps and jumps to look up at Moody. 

"Give me a curse." Moody implores pressingly, his artificial darting from the board to Ron hastily. 

Ron watches uneasily as Moody returns to the specimen jar, reaches inside and lets the spider run up his hand. 

"Well... our dad once told me about one... the Imperious Curse." Ron falters, voice wavering. Lory nods grimly to herself, Ron's statement evoking a memory of long ago. 

"I expect your father would know that one. Gave the Ministry a fair bit of grief some years ago. Perhaps this will show you why." Moody unsheathes his wand and aims it carefully towards the fidgeting insect.

"Imperio!"

As Moody waves his wand, the spider leaps from his palm onto Dean Thomas's desk. The class begins to giggle, and the giggles turn into roaring laughter as the spider hops from Dean's desk and into Crabbe's face, who exclaims in horror and reaches up to swat the spider from his face. 

"Don't worry! She's completely harmless." Moody assures with a small smirk playing on his face.

The spider flies across the room and lands on Paravrti's hand, who immediately ceases her laughter and exchanges her amused expression for one of terror with a mixture of horror. She stiffens and freezes at the contact, heavily exhaling as the spider crawls up her arm and dangerously close to her face. 

Moody cackles in amusement as he directs the spider to hover dangerously close to Ron's face, who whimpers in terror. 

"If she bites... she's lethal!" Moody grins with a playful wave of his wand, causing the spider to drop on Ron's face, who's eyes widen to the size of saucers as his body stiffens. Moody laughs once more, true delight gracing his features. 

Draco's laugh sounds prominently through the classroom and snatches Moody's attention, who doesn't enjoy the smug look gracing his features. 

"What are you laughing at?" Moody challenges, hurriedly waves his wand to cause the spider leap through the air and land directly on Draco's face, causing him to yell in horror. 

"Serves you right, Malfoy." you turn in your seat and grin childishly at him. Once the spider finally removes itself from Draco's face, he doesn't hesitate to glare intently at you, smugly sitting in front of him. 

"Shut your mouth, blood traitor." he growls. You merely shrug, your heart hammering in your chest with confidence. 

"Talented, isn't she? What should I have her do next? Jump out a window? Drown herself?" One by one, the students' smiles dry up.

"Scores of witches and wizards claimed they only did You-Know-Who's bidding under the influence of the Imperius Curse. Here's the rub: how do you sort out the liars?" Moody rapidly wets his lips, stating intently at the class. The statement sinks into the minds of the students as it falls silent for moment, if only just. 

"Another!" Moody urges. He scans the forest of hands, when his eye rotates with particular interest on... Neville.

"It's Longbottom, is it? Professor Sprout tells me you have an aptitude for Herbology." Moody mutters quietly to Neville as he towers over his desk.

Neville nods shyly, then answers. "There's... the Cruciatus Curse." he stutters nervously.

"Yes. Particularly nasty." Moody exclaims. He steps forward, looming over Neville and drops the spider onto his desk.

"Crucio!"

The spider twitches, legs trembling violently. Moody stands utterly motionless, eyes fixed on Neville, who seems transfixed on the spider's misery. Lorelei's contorts in sympathy for the creature as it whines and screeches, her eyes squinting shut to obstruct her sightline of the writhing spider. Hermione's eyes drift from the spider to Neville's hands, which are clenching the corners of his desk so hard that his knuckles are turning white.

"Stop it! Can't you see it's bothering him?! Stop it!"

Finally... Moody drops his wand. The room falls under a solemn silence. 

"Um... perhaps you could give us the last Unforgivable Curse, Miss Granger." Moody stands at her desk, drops the spider from his hand to her desk, and stares at her expectantly. Everyone's eyes are trained on Hermione to catch her response, especially you. 

Hermione glances at you and shakes her head insistently. 

"Avada Kedavra!"

There is a flash of green light, a rush of air, and the spider... rolls onto its back. Dead.

"The killing curse. There is no blocking it. Only one person is known to have survived it. And he's sitting in this room."

As the others turn their eyes on him, Harry looks up and sees Moody studying him. Moody's tongue nervously probes the corner of his mouth as he takes out his flask and turns away. Harry's eyes drop tot he spider, lying motionless.

"Bugger off, you lot. Nothing to see here." you shoo off the tables around you and the students avert their eyes elsewhere in the room. Harry is silently grateful. 

You, Harry, Ron, and Hermione drift from the class. 

"Brilliant, isn't he? Completely demented, of course, and terrifying to be in the same room with, but he's really been there, y'know? He's looked evil in the eye." Ron gushes. 

"I think he's cruel. Did you see Neville? I though he was going to-" Harry lets out a short warning whistle before you can continue: up ahead, within earshot, Neville stands by a stained glass window, his face running in rainy blue light as he gazes vaguely beyond. 

"Neville....?" you gently touch his shoulder. 

Clunk! Clunk! Moody limps past them and places a leathered hand on Neville's shoulder. 

"It's alright, sonny. You come with me. We'll have a cup of tea in my office." Moody leads Neville away. Harry and the others head off themselves. 

Set within the glass pane is an ancient witch fashioned out of blue glass, her "skin" running with rain. A tiny fissure mars the glass below one eye. She looks be crying. 

A bitter wind sweeps crystalline sheets of rain from the roof. Far below, Cedric Diggory dashes toward the Great Hall.

Inside the Hall, the goblet flickers eerily at the top. A group of underclassmen- Harry and Ron among them- stand by as their older classmates submit their names. Hermione clutches a copy of Triwizard Tragedies. You nudge her. 

"You're only going to worry yourself sick with that book, you know." you inform curtly, eyeing the book. 

"People have gotten splinched in this Tournament! More than once!" Hermione exclaims in horror. 

"Splinched?" Dean Thomas inquires. 

"Dunno. But it doesn't sound good." Seamus exhales anxiously. 

"Potter." Cedric nods to Harry and drops his name. Ron raises his hand in greeting, but Cedric is already dashing back into the rain. Ron frowns, drops his hand, and glances back to the Goblet. 

"Eternal glory. Be brilliant, wouldn't it, three years from now, when we're old enough, to be chosen?" Ron dreams. 

"Better you than me." Harry grins and Ron nods knowingly. 

"Better not be either of you, you hear me?" you warn the two. Ron rolls his eyes. 

"You're not the boss of me. I am two minutes older." Ron brags. The group groans. 

"Not this again." Hermione goes back to her book. 

"Oh, two whole minutes older. What an accomplishment. You probably pulled me by my heal to get out first." You retort in exasperation. Ron scowls. "Did not!" He exclaims. 

You’re about to continue the argument when, just then, Fred and George come striding forth, looking very pleased indeed. 

"Well, we've done it, lads." Fred announces proudly, almost smugly. 

"Cooked it up just this morning." George smirks. They hold up twin vials. 

"It's not going to work..." Hermione informs in a sing-song tone. Everyone turns. Hermione flips a page in her book. 

"Yeah? And why's that, Granger?" The twins arrive either of her sides. 

"Because a genius like Dumbledore couldn't possibly be fooled by a dodge as pathetically dim-witted as an Aging Potion." Hermione informs with an annoyed expression. 

"That's what makes it so brilliant. It's pathetically dim-witted." Fred's playful smile never falters. 

"Go on, then." you challenge. 

"Ready Fred?" "Ready George." "Bottoms up!"

As one, they top a gooey green liquid onto their tongues and, with great drama, cross the golden line encircling the Goblet. As they drop their names, everyone waits. And waits. Fred and George grin and hive five each other and...

... are ejected high in the air, out of the circle and flat on their backs, whereupon little white beards sprout on their chins. Everyone laughs.

"You said!"

"You said!"

The twins lunge at each other, limbs tangled as they wrestle each other into submission, blaming the other for their shared misfortune. Then Seamus stops laughing. Then Dean. Harry. Ron. You. Finally, when no one is laughing, Hermione looks up and sees what has silenced them:

Victor Krum.

He drops his name, glances at her, briefly, then lowers his head and slouches away. Hermione watches him go, briefly, then returns back to her book. 

"What do you suppose that was?" You lean slightly to whisper in Harry's ear, who shrugs. 

"No idea." he answers with little interest. Ron, on the other hand, is close to glaring.

The House tables crackle with anticipation as, overhead, the enchanted ceiling swirls with dark clouds. At the Tall Table, the staff awaits, Moody among them. Dean Thomas dashes up to the Gryffindor table.

"Did you hear?! Not a single student from Beauxbatons submitted their name." he exclaims. 

"What!?" Ron gasps. Harry and Ron glance to the Ravenclaw table, where Cho sits next to an empty seat. Ron looks crestfallen. 

"Oh, rubbish, one of them must have submitted their name." Your expression changes from determined to confused when you realize that none of the Beauxbaton students are anywhere to be seen.

"They've gone home!" Ron declares, bewildered and disappointed. 

"I can't say I'm surprised. Those girls were just a tad high-strung, if you ask me." Hermione's triumphant smirk is unmissable, and you pat her on the shoulder with the same type of smirk. 

Suddenly, there is a stir at the back of the Hall and the Beauxbaton girls, chins held high, stride single-file into the room, past the House tables and up to the Goblet of Fire where- one after another- they deposit their names. As a final flourish, tiny Gabrielle Delacour casts a handful of pixie dust into the Goblet, which issues a pink cloud of rose petals. The Hall rings with whistles and cheers. Ron beams. 

"Oh, for crying out loud." you slouch in your seat at the display. 

"I love it when they do this..." Ron sighs with a dazes expression overtaking his features. 

"Do what?" Hermione demands. 

"You know... walk together."

"Thank you, ladies of Beauxbatons, for that enjoyable but of theatre. Now... the moment has arrived." Dumbledore draws his wand and gives a great sweeping motion. Instantly, the torches lining the hall gutter, then die. The only light comes from the blue-white flames of the Goblet. 

A hush descends. Then... the flames crackle and turn red. A charred bit of parchment flutters from the goblet and Dumbledore plucks it out of the air.

"The champion for Durmstrang is... Victor Krum." A storm of applause accompanies Krum from the Slytherin table to the top of the hall and into the adjoining chamber.

"No surprise there!" Ron scoffs. 

Once more, the Hall grows quiet, all eyes on the Goblet. The flames turn red. A second piece of parchment, a particularly feminine parchment, floats free.

"The champion for Beauxbatons is... Fleur Delacour."

"I'm telling you, they don't make them like that at Hogwarts." Ron shakes his head and whistles through his fingers- a touch too loudly, and you whack him harshly upside the head. Hermione glowers at him.

"And lastly, the Hogwarts champion." A beat of stressed silence passes. "Cedric Diggory!"

"Silly git..." Ron grumbles as the Hall erupts in cheers. 

"He's meant to be quite smart, actually. And he's a Prefect." you nod curtly. 

"Like that's a good thing..." 

"Excellent! We now have our three champions. I'm sure I can count upon all of your to give your full support to each and every-"

A collective gasp cuts Dumbledore short: the flames in the Goblet of Fire have, once more, turned red. Moody's eye rotates. A fourth... and fifth shred of parchment flutter forth. For a moment, Dumbledore simply lets them float in the air, regarding it suspiciously, then he takes them.

"Harry Potter and Y/N Weasley." He announces grimly. 

Your face falls and your heart stops beating for a moment. The blood drains from your face and you turn to look at Harry, who's utterly confused as well. 

There is a moment of suspended silence. Then every eye in the Hall turns toward you and Harry. Incredulous, Ron searches your face for some explanation. Finally, Hermione whispers:

"Go on, you two." Hermione places her hand gently on the small of your back to push your up. 

You and Harry rise stiffly and you begin the slow walk past the house tables. As you come level with the tall table, Harry catches sight of Dumbledore. He is not smiling.

[honestsycrets]

The Whore and the Roach || [Geralt x Reader]

❛ pairing | geralt x fem prostitute!reader

❛ type | oneshot

❛ summary | ❝ she doesn’t want to be a prostitute. she just doesn’t know how to get out. he can help.  ❞

❛  warnings | whorehouse, prostitute, minor violence, geralt being a big good bully, protective!geralt

❛  sy’s notes | this is my first shot. it’s SFW. just a little sweetie shot mostly. gif by thewitcherdaily.

A soft wooden brush shifts over the study back of the muddy horse. He chomps on his supper of concentrate and hay to the swift rack of a brush over his back. His tail flicks periodically as he eats, suggesting that perhaps he has relaxed some over his long stay with you while his owner made a visit to Temeria. Your hand shifts over his long tail-- and you replace the soft brush in favour of a wide-toothed comb.

“Much better,” you say, standing off to the side of the horse. With one hand holding the top of the section, the other combs through his tail. The horse kicks out, and you’re suddenly a lot more happy that you were to the side of him rather than directly behind. “Keep still. You haven’t been combed in a while! Tell the Witcher he’s slacking. Better yet, I’ll tell him.”

The Witcher in question slips into the warm cozy stable. His large hulking body walks past you to settle his large hand on top of the chocolate strands of his horse’s mane. You glance to him, perking a small smile.

“You could at least brush him. It’s not enough that he has a foul-smelling Witcher on his back.”

“The pimp,” he states his question. You recognize the White Wolf for having come in some time ago. He spent three nights with someone else.

“Off with Mildritha for the night,” you gesture back. A long hmm slips from his lips. His large fingers weave through the horse’s mane, running his hand upon the side of his horse’s face. Roach, or so he affectionately calls the poor thing, looks up.

“Give this to him.”

The Witcher holds out a cloth bag. One look upon it and you realize it’s the missing coin. If you took it, you knew exactly what would come of it. No way were you taking that. Not on your life-- if something happened to it, you would be the one settled with paying off the Witcher’s debt. From the looks of it, it would be substantial.

“I can’t take that,” you say, the word seeming to snap off of your tongue. The Witcher deadpans and closes his glove around the bag of coin again. He prepares his things over Roach’s back and loin, unmoved by your words. It occurs that this man is perfunctory in every sort of the word. Once settled, he walks toward the door of the stable.

“Wait. Witcher!”

He stops, not bothering to turn. He’s listening, at least.

“Stay until morning. You could stay with me.”

He takes a step forward, clearly denying your request.

��You don’t know what it is like when he is angry. He’ll make me work again!” You say, like an absolute idiot. Living in a whorehouse wasn’t known for being a life of luxury, despite what the slinky red gown would tell others.

“So leave,” he rumbles.

You’re momentarily stunned. “It’s not that easy.”

Most women found it empowering: taking men for the coin they had. Maybe you would too, if there was no pimp to dictate how often you worked. So when your cunt was chafing and aching, you wouldn’t feel your teeth gritting like two hunks of rock sanding a sword. The best thing you could do that night was look exhausted and hoped men looked over you.

“Well. I mean. Some of us can’t choose our destinies,” you gesture humorously toward him. “Some of us are well renown Witchers. Some of us are whores in a house with an angry father. This is my life. I could never leave.”

He stops. Then turns to face you. In a way, meeting his brilliant amber eyes is something that gives you pause. Your eyes shift and falter, falling to the ground again. He lifts you under your arms and settles you up on the horse.

“What are you doing?”

“Keep her steady, Roach.”

It’s now, here, or never. Geralt walks out-- over to the whorehouse, forgetting everything you’ve said in the past. There’s a loud hey! from the inside. “What is he doing?” you whisper out loud-- then sit upright. The scuffle only becomes louder when your plump older father is corralled out with the Witcher lackadaisically, as if this whole ordeal is nothing to be really concerned about. You glance toward him, dressed in his unbuttoned dusty slacks and nothing else.

“Get off,” he motions, glancing over his shoulder. “Hurry the fuck up!”

Between his words and Geralt’s piercing gaze, you know which one of the two you’re paying attention to. Geralt seizes the reins and walks slowly toward the exit of town. There’s something to be said for the pimp’s stubbornness. “You can’t just-- you didn’t pay for her! Hey! Did you hear me, you dirty fucker!”

Then, he makes the wrong choice when he grasps at the other side of Roach’s reins. His chocolaty head jerks, clonking the old man in the face. Geralt stops with the loud splash of his head hitting a deep puddle, just enough to explain himself… somewhat.

“You have your coin.”

From there, there is no response. The town shrinks as Geralt walks on. Every wooden tavern, home, and whorehouse snuffs out their lights. Out of your age old home, there’s a moment. Just a small, lingering moment of uncertainty. You put out those thoughts with the fear and turn back around to the Witcher.

“You paid him for me?” you ask.

Geralt glances toward you. “Yes,” he states. Then, nothing. He’s not much of a talker, and maybe it’s your fault for being a prostitute. Most men only came to prostitutes for one of two reasons. Something told you-- Geralt had his fill of company a few nights ago.

“Then you’ve bought me. Why did you buy me?”

Nothing more than a dull hmm, a noise that indicates he’s at least heard you. Gone from one man to another, your eyes settle over Roach’s mane. Another thought hits you. The wind whistles through the trees on an otherwise quiet night.

“Where are we going?”

“A forest.”

“You’re dangerously talkative, you know. Seems to work out for you.” You glance over. Geralt glances at you at long last. He mounts Roach-- his strong muscles shifting around you to grasp Roach’s reins. His body affords the safety that you’ve gone without for so long, but you don’t want to give into safety. All safety was short lived.

“And what’s in this forest, anyway? Treasure? Another creature?”

“Women,” he answers. “The forest is full of them.”

Maybe he was a Witcher with a one-track mind. You think he has to be to be constantly on the move hopping place. The creaks of the forest aren’t every man’s friend. Unless you were something like him-- something that everyone despised. The bright lights of the town become dimmer and dimmer until they are specks in the dark forest surrounding you.

“That’s not it,” he rumbles.

Woop! There goes that.

“The women there will take you in,” he reasons. “You can’t come with me.”

A gamut of emotions ran through your face-- unsure which was worse or better. Living in the forest with no one you knew? Not even Roach? Though, if you had to guess, being used until your body was dry of the ability to have children was not the best life. You wonder, would the pimp have killed you after that point?

“That’s not exactly a great investment of your coin,” you say. “Buy a whore for nothing?”

“Losses and profits. Is that what you’re worried about?”

“Y-- well, no. It’s not my fault if that’s what you’re thinking.”

He’s unreadable. Partially because when he hovers behind you, with his warm and brawny chest behind your back, you can’t see his face. Maybe it was better that way-- being unable to see his deadpan expression, because some times, it’s like looking into the mirror.

“He was my stepfather,” you say. “Been with mother since I was a babe. I thought he cared, y’know, like a father?”

“Seems not,” he clips short. “Caring fathers don’t whore their daughters out for coin.”

No point arguing there.

“For someone that doesn’t have much company, you sure are a know it all.” You grumble, glaring off to the side. Your hand strokes over his mane, not really knowing if its at all for him, or soothing for you. Probably you. Roach doesn’t seem to give a shit one way or another. You carry on like that, making small quips he doesn’t pay attention to until he stops abruptly.

“What?”

“Stopping for the night,” The Witcher grumbles, pulling you off of Roach. He sets you down on crunchy leaves. You glance around, looking toward the tall arching trees, and you follow them to kiss the dark peppered sky. You had never slept outside before. Somehow it was more freeing than sleeping inside.

He’s quick to set up a makeshift camp. Nothing takes too long with the Witcher-- and you suppose that’s out of demand of a man who must run and rush wherever he goes. You stretch out by the crackling fire he’s arranged, glancing over tentatively when he crumpled beside it. It’s cool. Much cooler than you thought it would be. You run your fingers together, pulling your cloak around yourself for added warmth.

“Come over,” he rumbles.

“Come over?” you repeat as if your brain is as empty as the wind that carried through the leaves and chilled your skin.

“You won’t shut up,” he acknowledges from the ground, turning over to pierce you through with his amber eyes. “You’re cold. I don’t want to hear it all night. Come here.”

You lift, trudging his way to sit beside him. It’s not particularly warmer here, if only a little, but just as you gave it that thought, the Witcher dragged you down beside him. The ground is unforgiving. Harder than your back is used to. Maybe, in time, it would become accustomed to a rougher lifestyle. If it meant not being forced another another man, it was worth it.

“There,” he mutters, allowing you to rut close. His chest heaves slow, very low. You listen to the slow beat, his body serving as a shield from the small wind that carries through the forest. Your eyelids become heavy, unusually comfortable with a man. The Witcher-- even. “Now go to sleep.”

@kingniazx​

[kpoptrashlord-007]

The Cover;; Hwi

Word Count;; 1.6k

Genre;; Fluff

Pairing;; Hwi x Reader

Request;; Not Requested...  I'm new here (to the Newkidd fandom) and I’m sorry if I didn't do Hwi justice - I just couldn't not write something for his birthday. He's just too adorable and cute :(

Notes;; Happy Birthday, Hwi!!

My Masterlist

   There was no holding back the smile that lit up your face as you watched him dance. Dancing to the energetic and electrifying beat of his latest favourite girl group song wasn't work to him - it was something he enjoyed. It was a hobby that he indulged in for himself and it showed in the way his joy became your own as he elicited pure emotion from you. Every single move dripped with not only grace but also happiness. Never did his expression falter or drop, and your own smile couldn't hold a candle to the dazzling grin plastered on his face.

   Though his technique wasn't the best in the business, his personality and ability to draw out a raw response was more than most could ever dream of. Hwi allowed his happiness to cascade off his body in waves, illuminating the room and everything in it. No matter how hard he pushed himself to give his personal best, his eyes sparkled brighter than the moonlight hidden behind closed shutters.

   Safe behind the camera, you felt emboldened enough to express the pent up excitement that had built up over the course of the night. It came as a silent set of bunny hops, a playful pout and a squish of your cheeks as you mouthed a silent coo that he caught from the corner of his eye during an elegant turn. A small blush served as the replacement for the eye roll he undoubtedly would have given you had he not been on camera.

   Once he finished the routine, soft pants drifting from soft lips, you ended the recording and turned off the camera. Light sweat lined his brow that was accompanied by a slight frown. All he did was watch in silence as you sat down on the floor. There next to the camera's tripod and attached by a single USB cord was your laptop. Lifting it into your lap, you sighed in relief. So far everything was in order and looking good. You focused on the screen while you uploaded the footage to your video editor, ignoring the impatient shuffling of the young man across from you. Without diverting your attention, you humoured him.

   "What's wrong?"

   "Did you like it?"

   "Of course. You were adorable as always, Hwi."

   An indignant huff prompted a grin from you. You eyed him for a brief moment. Though barely noticeable, his blond waves had started to clump from the buildup of sweat. This final recording was far from the first; all night had been dedicated to perfecting the dance. It should have been finished last night but he refused to offer anything less than perfect. It was his birthday gift to his fans, after all, so he had danced into the morning.

   "Then why were you playing around and poking fun? Were you bored?"

   "I wasn't." You laughed this time when he huffed. "It was fun."

   "I saw you. It almost tripped me up," Hwi mumbled.

   Grabbing the tripod, he tried to move it aside but the cords were still connecting the camera and laptop. You yelped when the laptop jerked off your lap. Scrambling to catch it even though the likelihood of damage was next to nil, you lurched forward and slammed the back of your hand against the concrete before it had a chance to hit the ground. Waiting for your heartbeat to slow, you raised your gaze inch by inch to meet Hwi's.

   "Oops."

   "Aish, you're lucky you're cute. Please leave the cleanup to me. You should get some sleep while I finish this."

   "But-"

   "Nope, none of that. Off you go."

   Kicking imaginary dirt on the floor, he pouted. When he didn't clear out of the small practice room, you once again told him to get some rest with similar results. With a shake of the head and a yawn, you stood. You had to finish the video soon so it would be ready to post for his birthday so even though you were dead tired, you couldn't give in to the slumber that beckoned you. It would take a strong, caffeinated drink to power you through the looming task ahead of you. You could just hope that the drinks offered in the break room vending machine would be enough.

   "Can't I stay?"

   "Why would you want to? This is gonna take awhile. Don't worry - it won't be posted without your approval first. Just sleep."

   You stumbled to the door, yanking it open. Stretching upon exiting, you expected Hwi to follow only for the door to creak shut behind you. With a half-hearted yell, you reminded him not to touch the laptop before trudging down the hall. It took about five minutes for your mind to catch up. Once it had and you were able to form a somewhat coherent thought that didn't correlate to editing, you picked a drink and guzzled it down. It was quiet in the building at this time, something you could appreciate. The last thing you wanted to do was explain your presence.

   Step by step, the fog covering your mind began to lift as the caffeine kicked into gear. Still focused on the best way to slice, edit, and filter the dance routine in the least time possible, you reentered the room to find Hwi sitting in your spot. Light danced across his face in the now dark room as he watched the screen. You tutted and shook your head but he didn't seem to notice. Taking a seat next to him, you spoke in a low tone meant to go unnoticed.

   "Didn't I say not to touch the laptop?"

   "Hmm?"

   "Nothing. Here, hand it to me."

   Without a comment, he passed the laptop over. You disconnected the cords and threw them to the side. If he wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon, you'd just put off the cleanup and instead watch the clips with him. Waggling your finger in a beckoning gesture, you scooted a little further down the wall and he followed. When his legs were a safe distance from the tripod, you allowed yourself to relax.

   "I'm happy to see that you didn't delete the footage while I was gone."

   "I'm not stupid."

   "Even the smartest people make mistakes. I've erased plenty of important memories before, usually by accident." You shrugged and sighed, looking at him from your peripheral, "It's not a big deal."

   "You don't need to baby me."

   "When have I ever?"

   He snorted. "Anyway, you can delete everything before the last three takes. There will be nothing worth saving there, I think. The second chorus and outro in the first of the three can be used and the intro for the second video might have been more polished than the third but… I'll leave it to your judgement."

   "You got it."

   After three and a half minutes of dutiful work on your part, you felt his stare burning into you. You wondered if he had been watching your actions close enough to pick up on your plan. The building silence was enough to give you your answer, but you hoped he hadn't noticed the full extent of it.

   Lifting your eyes off your project timeline, you noticed his hawk-like vision hadn't missed a thing. In an act of subconscious guilt, you chose to catch his gaze in the mirror opposite you both rather than head-on. He scowled. It was meant to be intimidating but it had an adverse effect and you burst into laughter. The way his lips jutted out in a pout at your reaction was beyond cute and only increased the bubbling joy overflowing from you.

   "Why are you laughing? I can see what you're doing!"

   "Oh, what am I doing?" You goaded, snorting at his incredulous gasp.

   "You're collecting all the mistakes!'

   "What of it?"

   "I asked you to delete them," he whined, pulling at your shirt sleeve and frowning.

   "But you were so cute whenever you messed up."

   "I don't want to show them anything less than perfect!"

   "Making mistakes is human. Having flaws is human. No one is perfect. Your fans will love seeing this, trust me. You're so gee dang cute, they will melt and combust when they see that little nervous laugh you made after you tripped. It's like a gift that keeps giving."

   "Are you sure?"

   "Yes, put your trust in me. I won't lead you astray. Now why don't you just go to sleep and leave this to me? When you wake up, I'll have the finished video ready for you to review."

   "Fine." The mirror shook as he dropped his head against it before an irritated groan echoed through the room. Even without the lights on, you knew discomfort would soon crawl across every inch of his face. The cold, hard surface of the mirror was no proper place to sleep. Soon his head rolled to the side to look at you once more. "Sleep where though?"

   "Well since you didn't want to leave,-" with a tilt of your head so you were face to face with the exhausted blond, you patted your shoulder, "-you can sleep here."

   For the first time since he finished dancing, his face lit up in a dazzling smile. He was quick to lean on you and even quicker to snuggle against you. You knew it wouldn't take long for him to clonk out, not with how tired he was after a full night's work. Pulling a pair of earphones from your pocket, you began to transition yourself and the laptop into a more comfortable and silent setup.

   Hwi yawned. If he was curious about your actions, he didn't comment on it and instead closed his eyes. Well on the way to falling asleep, he mumbled, "I'm lucky to have you."

   "Yeah, you are."

[utterlyhopeful-fics]

Broken Edges- Part 4

This is my version of fluff so enjoy it while it lasts! I wish I could apologize for the cliffhanger but it was so much fun to write...Who do you think is with our dear Y/N? 

Catch up HERE 

Steve Rogers x Reader 

Word Count: 1.8k 

Warnings: language, kidnap, flangst (if you squint)

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

“What the hell are you doin on the floor, pal?” Bucky’s voice sounded foggy as the message transmitted to Steve’s sensitive ears. He couldn’t hear anything above the high-pitched ring vibrating through his canals and taste the blood from biting the inside of his cheek. He was frozen, not in fear, but shame, humiliation, and unexplainable uncertainty. 

Steven Grant Rogers was officially the world’s biggest fuck up. Usually he could talk his way out of any troubling situation merely with his persuasive smile and easy-going personality, but Y/N destroyed him with her ingenuously quick tipped words. Steve kept thinking about the despondent look in her eyes before she abruptly slammed the door in his face. It was guaranteed to torment him not only during his waking hours but without question in the lingering night terrors yet to come.

Out of the blue, a large hand lingered upon his shoulder before the intruder cautiously shook him alerting him of the stranger’s very close proximity; “Steve, everything alright man?” It was Bucky. The only other person in this god forsaken building that probably didn’t want him flayed alive…at least not yet.

“Can I uh, ask why you are on the ground?”

Still stunned from his previous interaction with Y/N; he had no other choice but to man up to what he’d done. The words were like molting lava ready to escape a treacherous terrain but he reverted to simplistic quacking getting to the meat of the breakup. All confidence disappearing, Steve murmured;

“She dumped me.”

Steve felt Bucky’s grasp tighten against his right shoulder, giving him a hard pat for good measure before proceeding onward; “Well, she was pretty upset when I saw her this morning. That girl talks in code majority of the time so I didn’t really get the full story. I guess it didn’t end well based off the dumbfounded expression etched onto your face right now, hmm?”

Rapidly turning his head to meet another set of familiar baby blues, Steve no longer had control of what spewed from his lips at that very moment; “You don’t know shit, Bucky. I thought you were on my side.”

Exasperated, Bucky refuted back quicker than lightning; “Hey man, don’t take your frustrations out on me. I’ll always be on your side but I also have no freaking idea what really is going. So, please enlighten me to what the hell is exactly happening.”

Grunting, Steve no longer saw any point to hiding his demons. Sooner or later, the entire team would know how much of a dick he truly was. Might as well get ahead of the game.

“I slept with Nat. I made a colossal lapse in judgment and carelessly shattered Y/N. That’s what happened.”

Bucky backed away from his friend, unaware of how to process the information he was given. Thinking back to his earlier conversation with Y/N, Bucky finally started to connect the dots and align the context clues. The wheels in his mind rotated on full speed wondering just how Captain America found himself in such a predicament. He tapped his knee in hopes of getting the super soldier up and out of the hallway so they could continue this discussion in private. He definitely needed the gaps filled in for him even if he had to twist his best friend’s arm. Bucky was determined to get to the bottom of this.

                Y/N’s POV:

The cooling sensation of the door felt wonderful against Y/N’s tense back muscles. Her head clonked against the surface reminding her that she indeed had just kicked Steve Rogers out of her sight, and it felt fucking superb. She sauntered towards her bed faceplanting into an array of cush pillows aligning her headboard. Y/N wasn’t much for history but at that exact moment she felt like an amazon warrior; powerful and assertive. Throughout history, falling in love never got an easy reputation. Lives destroyed, homes ruined, families broken due to people’s selfish belief in the power of love. No one dared speak of its real consequences caged in the darkest corners of humanity. Awaiting the broken hearted like thorny vines on a rose bush; enticing from afar luring in its prey before singe-handedly attacking in the name of devoted adoration. That was certainly one way to lure the gullible and weak minded. 

She was neither, at least not anymore. Y/N rolled over gazing at her ceiling. For once the pressure in her chest dissipated, oxygen flowing into her airways. She was able to breath for the first time in months. She should’ve done this sooner. Y/N was now beginning to understand who her knight in shining armor truly was…the woman she had always been. Thinking back on Steve’s trepidation, Y/N spotted that her problem was she allowed herself to be wanted so badly, she couldn’t tell it wasn’t love at all. Initially noticing the beautiful wrapping paper that entailed her gift before understanding who really was layered within Steve Rogers.

Y/N didn’t let herself off the hook that easily. It takes two to tango when dancing with the devil and she eagerly obliged him. She settled for his pretentious impression of friendship permitting it to linger towards sex because she wanted him. Revenge was far too personal but vengeance, vengeance was cunning, detrimental, and brought a sickening grin to Y/N’s rosy lips. 

So long to the girl who was sweet and simple. Y/N refused to be what people tell her to be. That Y/N was long dead. But, before she could concoct her masterplan her brain swam mindlessly begging for sleep, her lids weighed heavily as Y/N found her eyes closing and her surroundings go black.

When Y/N awoke, her bones ached in a lethargic manner and she was in desperate demand of vodka; the perfect numbing agent.   Her limbs riddled from stress; she stretched, a loud yawn escaping its way out. It was then Y/N realized she wasn’t alone in her room. Impossible. After giving Steve the boot, she had made sure Jarvis had secured all locks and rejected all wandering guests. 

A calm red glow caught her attention in the corner of her room. Wanda. Though intrusive, Wanda’s company was pacifically soothing and exactly what Y/N yearned for.

Wanda watched intuitively staring in Y/N’s direction unwillingly to break the peaceful calm.

“Wanda, I’m not blind. I can clearly see you creeping in the corner.”

Wanda sassed back at rapid fire; “Oh my god, she speaks! Wow, for a second I thought you were dead.”  

A giggle passed Y/N’s lips, it felt refreshing to laugh; “I thought you read minds. Didn’t you get the memo I’m in mourning?”

Clearly amused, Wanda accepted Y/N’s bait; “Hmm, who died?”

Y/N bit the inside of her lip thinking twice before speaking; “The old Y/N. She’s dead and gone.”

“Interesting. And who is gracing my presence as we speak?”

“A badass bitch who no longer has a filter to deal with Captain America’s bullshit. That’s who.”

Instinctively, Wanda blushed unable to stop her powers from intruding upon Y/N’s thoughts.

“I’m sooo sorry, Y/N. I freaking slipped and please believe me when I say I didn’t mean to…”

Wanda neared her bed sitting at the corners edge, not to close but just enough. Knowing her darkest fruition finally felt quite liberating even if she hated to admit it. Of course, Y/N was irritated that Wanda unintentionally read her most secretive thoughts, she couldn’t fathom being mad at her friend for trying to help.

“I can’t believe him! Out of all people and Nat knew how you felt about him? I’m all about keeping the peace…but this is unacceptable.”

A breath whooshed through Y/N’s chest as she gathered herself; “You’re telling me…Steve almost said he loved me before I stopped him. There were so many things I wanted to tell him. But honestly, I hated knowing he’d been inside of her…given her such an intimate part of himself. Please tell me I’m not crazy?”

Y/N hated bringing Wanda, the idealistic middle (wo)man into this brass situation, but the white elephant in the room needed to be addressed at some point or another.

“Я понимаю мою любовь.” (I understand my love)

“я чувствую себя таким разбитым” (I feel so broken)

“You don’t have to explain. I literally…. get it. I just want to punch him in that rightful nose of his. Jesus! That man is infuriating.”

“He wasn’t always that way. Trust me.”

“But you love hi—”

“No….: Shaking her head in vast disagreement. “No. No. No. Please don’t say that, please.”

“…if you insist Y/N. I’m on your side regardless but I’m also bipartisan if Stark asks.”

Y/N couldn’t deny the inevitable; “Thank you…. Thank you for being a friend, Wanda.”  

   ------

Y/N’s resounding feelings were more than Wanda could handle without alcohol’s boost of influence. So, she stupidly made her way towards Tony’s lounge promising Wanda they’d catch up later. Nothing better than a little peace and quiet Y/N prayed, banking on its abandoned state.

Upon entrance, Y/N’s mouth watered, her throat parched as she appreciated the overly stocked bar Stark was so keen on maintaining.  Vodka soda with extra lime was her main pick of poison. She reveled in the slow burn down into her lungs, she moaned with pleasure. 

This was exactly what the doctor ordered. Y/N started to worry about being left alone with her thoughts for too long would be a bad thing, or a more challenging way of figuring her shit out.

Of course, Tony chose the finest of leather couches who’s price she probably didn’t dare guess. Y/N fell right into its cushiony heaven trying to not spill her drink in the process. She brought the chilled glass to her lips before gulping the remainder of the iced beverage no longer in existence. With her heels kicked up and feelings at bay for the meantime, Y/N briefly closed her eyes welcoming the darkness.

An enigmatic voice came out of the corner like a ghost lingering in the shadows, startling Y/N.

“Y/N. So very nice to see you again.”

A voice morphed from her very own nightmares.

“Hail Hydra моя милая богиня” (my sweet girl).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags:  @kaithezaftig @awesomefanficlover @marvelfansworld @sergeantjbuckybarnes @hista-girl @calwitch @silent-loucidity@flightofthefantasies @lovely-geek @shannon124 @hulksmashin-bannerpackin@siren-queen03 @heyiamthatbitch @bake-motherfucka-bake @girls-inred @kielemarie @donner5822 @sophiria @iluvsumbucky @xstevenat

[wolfinpink]

English Tea Kiss

***

Z Nation One Shot!

For Pride Month I made some Bi!10K fic with an OC named Jamie. First meetings and first kiss. Super cute and fluffy. First time same sex attraction for 10K as well so he’s a little flustered by these new feelings.

Happy Pride everyone!

***

Cold metal pressed against 10Ks exposed neck. His hands immediately gripped his rifle tighter and his legs began to pivot.

“Nah – ah – ahhh.” A mans voice whispered against his ear, “not unless you want some mercy.”

10K sighed and let his rifle slip to the floor. It clattered against the bricks and echoed around the bar. The man huffed but didn’t say anything as the sound of footsteps heading down the hall grew louder. Warren, Doc and Addy filed inside; weapons raised.

“Hello all.” The man behind 10K said. His free hand slipped around the boy’s waist, holding him firmly in place.

“There is exactly 0% need for violence.” The man said, leaning his head out from behind 10K.

“Actually that percentage depends entirely on you.” Warren replied, taking another step forward.

“Let the kid go.” Doc commanded.

“The only way this goes well for you is if you release him.” Addy agreed, coming into step with Warren.

There were a tense few seconds. The sound of Zs beating on a barricaded door came from outside. The rest of the room was silent save for everyone’s shallow breaths.

“Got a name?” Warren asked, her pistol remaining steadily trained on the two.

“Jamie.” The man replied, shuffling his feet behind 10K, “and you are?”

“Warren. This is Doc. Addy. And you’ve got your piece against our boy, 10K there.” She motioned to everyone as they were introduced.

“Nice to meet you all. Is there a reason you’ve broken into my home?” Jamie asked, his tone was civil and calm. 10K wasn’t a good judge but he thought he sounded British. There was something about his accent that reminded him of old doctor who episodes.

“We’re just looking for shelter from the herd.” Warren explained, she took another step forward as she lowered her pistol, “we’ll be out of your way as soon as they move on.”

10K felt Jamie relax a little against him. The pressure at his waist lessening. After a moment, Doc and Addy followed suit and lowered their weapons. No one sheathed them, but they were down.

“Well.” Jamie swallowed thickly, “I don’t see any reason why we can’t have a cup of tea while we wait.” Slowly he slid his hand off 10K and gave him a small push towards his group.

Warren and the new man mirrored each other as they slotted their weapons back into holsters. The tension immediately dissipated.

10K turned to see the man that had held him captive. Man? Maybe boy was a better fit. He must have been barely older than 10K himself, wearing blue jeans and a jacket with metal rivets and plates sewn into the fabric. His hair was light brown, scruffy, and a 5 o’clock shadow curved over his cheeks.

Doc slapped 10K on the arm as he grabbed up his rifle and re-joined the group. The bar they were in was English themed. Banners hung over the walls and union jacks adorned the chairs. Jamie had cleared away most of the seats and tables but left a few in the centre as a kind of dining area.

“I’ve got earl grey and a lot of green.” He says, tossing the flap door up and sliding behind the bar. He pulled up a camp cooker with a small gas tank attached and began boiling some water.

“Can’t be a coincidence that the first Brit we meet is in a pub called the Queen’s Best?” Doc laughed, taking a seat and making himself comfortable.

“It was my sisters.” Jamie said, “she use to live above it.”

Warren and Addy pulled up a chair while 10K leaned against the wall, next to a ripped union jack flag. The place where Jamie had gripped him felt strange, and he ran his fingers over his waist. It almost tingled. He kept his eyes on the boy as he potted about, collecting cups and tea bags. 10K had to admit, he was kind of graceful.

“Sorry about before.” Jamie glanced over at 10K, giving him an apologetic smile. His stomach clenched in response.

“Don’t worry about it.” He mumbled back.

“Had any contact with the UK?” Warren asked taking her own seat along with Addy.

“None. I was just here on holiday to see my sister when day one happened. Pretty much been here ever since.” Jamie replied, pouring hot water into a collection of mugs. He tossed a handful of teabags onto an empty tray and loaded it up with steaming hot cups of water before bringing it over.

“Shoulda known this is where all the damn tea went.” Doc said, taking a green and dunking it into his mug.

“This was all just my sisters stash.” He chuckled, “I limit myself to one a day now. Barely enough to last the year. But what are the odds that I’m gonna last it either?”

“Amen brother.” Doc said, and held up his mug to clink.

Warren wrapped her fingers around the mug and breathed in the scent. Addy waved off the option of tea and crossed her legs, letting her Z-whacker come to rest gently against her knee. Jamie plopped a bag into a mug and turned to 10K.

“You look like an earl grey kinda guy.” He said and extended him the drink.

Now that he was closer 10K could see his bright green irises. His lashes were impossibly long and there were lines around his eyes that came together as he smiled. 10K realised he thought this boy was… pretty.

His lips turned up into a sweet smile as 10K hesitated to take the mug.

“I don’t bite.” He laughed, “unless you’re into that.”

Warren and Addy shared a smirk as 10Ks face lit up bright red. He snatched the mug and clutched it to his chest, savouring the warmth. Jamie sauntered back to the table and took his own seat.

“So where are you guys headed?” He asked, taking a sip of his own tea.

“Not sure.” Warren replied, “just heading.” She closed the subject with a long gulp.

“I only ask because I’m running out of supplies here and you’re the first people I’ve come across that didn’t try to fill me with holes. I’d happily share what I’ve got for some safety in numbers.”

Warren glanced at the rest of the group. Doc shrugged and sipped his tea. Addy sighed but didn’t reject the idea. 10K took pains to stand perfectly still, as his heart beat erratically against his chest. He wasn’t sure if he wanted this boy to come along. Logically, he shouldn’t have a problem with it. Besides the fact he could kill them in their sleep, but that’s the same risk they’d taken with him. Still, knots tightened in his stomach at the thought of going on the road with him and his graceful movements, his long eyelashes, his pretty mouth.

“I’m good in tight spaces.” Jamie continued to sell himself casually. His elbow was resting on the top back of the chair, his body relaxed into the worn wood.

“How about this? That herd isn’t going anywhere tonight, so we’ll hunker down here. Tomorrow, if they’re gone, you can come with us until you find someplace more suitable. A community. Another group. Whatever.”

Jamie beamed as he nodded. Tension that hadn’t been visible before was released from his body. 10K internally groaned. His cheeks were still burning and he wasn’t sure if it was from the boy or the steaming tea.

“Perfect. We can stay upstairs. My sister has – had a two bedroom. It’s cosy.” Jamie smiled, finishing off the mug.

He placed it back onto the tray and slapped both of his thighs before standing up. The rest of the group followed suit, Doc downed the drink but Warren and 10K held theirs to their chests.

“Please, follow me.” He said and lead the group to a well-concealed door in the back of the bar. He unlocked it and it swung open to reveal a narrow staircase. Jamie ushered them up and he locked the door behind them as they went.

Upstairs was just as the English boy had described it – cosy. A tiny kitchen overlooked a two seater couch, crammed next to a dining table which was piled with books. Half a dozen were open, most were survival guides and native plant information. A few were fantasy novels.

There were three doors, the left most leading to a staggeringly small bathroom with no working water, the middle to a master, and the right to a kid’s room with a bunk. The few windows overlooking the road were half covered by blinds, but the light was waning anyway.

“I’ve got some canned food and a few litres of water in the kitchen. There’s two single beds, a double and the couch.” Jamie gestured around the apartment before plopping down on the lounge.

10K weaved around the furniture to peer out the window at the horde making its way through the streets. There were a few clawing at the barricades to the pub downstairs but most were staggering onward.

“I wouldn’t worry.” Jamie appeared next to him, making him jump. He leaned in to see through the window, pressing his shoulder against 10Ks.

“I welded that door shut with some bars I found. The only way in is up the ladder you guys used.” He turned to smile encouragingly, their faces were barely a few inches apart.

For a moment 10K could smell Jamie’s sweet breath against his face. He drew in a deep breath before he could stop himself, savouring the taste of tea leaves. Jamie’s eyes leisurely rolled down 10Ks face, making no attempt to hide the long seconds he stared at his lips.

10K swallowed thickly as he felt his cheeks burn.

“Button mushrooms and pineapple for dinner, kids.” Doc clonked two cans down on the counter, making the boys jump apart.

Warren had surveyed the apartment and was quietly speaking to Addy in the corner.

“We’re going to leave someone on watch.” She said, making her way into the kitchen.

“I’d be happy to go first.” Jamie piped up, “you’re being generous taking me with you after all.”

“No offence, but I’d rather one of us took the shifts, not in the mood for a knife at my throat.” Warren was even-toned as she spoke, casually glancing over the cans that Doc had chosen.

“No offence taken.” Jamie replied, “I’ll stay up anyway, if you don’t mind.”

Warren nodded before assigning 10K the first watch duty. Next was hers, followed by Doc and then Addy if it came to that. 10Ks stomach twisted at the thought of being in relative privacy with Jamie but he kept his mouth shut. He wasn’t about to make a fuss when he wasn’t even sure why he was feeling one in the first place.

The group shared out the cans evenly as they sat staggered around the tiny apartment. Doc asked a few questions in good humour. If he’d met anyone else decent? If he’d been out to scavenge much? Jamie answered anything and everything thrown at him with a charming ease.

“So, what’s with your name?” He asked, motioning with his mostly empty can. 10K’s head jerked up and he glanced at the others, willing them to speak for him. When it was evident they were staying silent, he sighed.

“It’s how many zombie’s I’m gonna kill.”

“He’s a hell of a shot. Already up to 3489.” Doc beamed proudly.

“No way.” Jamie’s confident bravado slipped away for a moment, showing an enthusiastic young boy as he jumped up and skipped over to his table. He snatched up a small notebook and brought it back to the group. He sat closer to 10K than before, but no one seemed to notice except 10K himself.

“I count them as well.” He flipped open the pocketbook to a tally marked page.

“I’m barely into my 800s though.” A little pink dusted Jamie’s nose as he passed the book to 10K.

He skimmed through the pages and read small notes on the side of the page. Every so often a tally mark coincided with a little blurb of a significant kill or a small crude drawing of the event. 10K continued to flip back through the book until he reached the first page. 30 or so tally marks in was a mark that had been scratched harder than the rest. The gash penetrated the next few pages, as if someone had scored it over and over. 10K looked questioningly up at Jamie to see he was looking away. He closed the book and pushed it back into his hands, his fingers grazing Jamie’s knuckles.

“You’ll be up into the thousands soon when you come with us.” Doc again broke the trance 10K hadn’t noticed he was in.

The sun had gone down a while ago now, the drone of Zs below was quiet but consistent. Addy picked up the two empty cans and returned them to the kitchen.

“I’m gonna turn in.” She said, speaking mostly to Warren, “us girls take the double?”

“Sounds good. A real bed.” Warren nearly moaned the last word and Addy chuckled.

Doc squeezed 10Ks shoulder as he turned towards the kid’s room.

“I call top bunk!” He laughed and skipped into the room.

It didn’t take long for the rest of the group to gather their things and retire. 10K sat agonizingly still as they retreated, leaving Jamie and himself alone. Of course, the walls were thin and the doors thinner, so it wasn’t as if they had much privacy. But still, the empty room seemed full of a tension that hadn’t been so strong when the others had been there.

“Honestly, it’s pretty damn secure up here.” Jamie commented after a while. He tossed the book back onto the table and came to sit next to 10K on the lounge, “there’s a trip wire that will sound if they get through the door as well. Tin cans.”

10K shuffled back a bit from the heat he felt as their legs accidentally collided. He pressed himself awkwardly into the arm of the couch. Sensing his discomfort, Jamie shifted over slightly as well. In the corner of his eye, 10K thought he caught a twinge of pain cross over his face, but it was gone just as quickly as it had appeared.

“What was with that mark in your book?” He asked. Usually 10K was okay with silence. He wasn’t one to speak for the hell of it, or to fill a space. But with Jamie, the tightness in his chest was compounded when there was nothing to say.

“It was my sister.” He shrugged, but his hands wrung together in his lap. They twisted roughly over each other again and again. The English boy stared out across the room as his hands writhed.

10K glanced at his hands and longed to still them. His fingers twitched with need to calm the boy’s pain. He struggled with the feeling for a few moments before it became too much and his hand shot out to rest on Jamie’s. He stilled immediately.

“My dad was my first.” He said quietly, as his fingers began gently running over Jamie’s knuckles in small circles. It took the two a good full minute before they looked up at each other.

“It wasn’t her / him.” They both spoke at the same time, about their own loved ones. A small smile crept across 10Ks face as he looked at Jamie’s grin. The English boy slid is bottom hand out from the pile and placed it on top, sandwiching 10Ks fingers between his own.

Doc’s gentle snoring emanated from the room to their left and they both chuckled.

Somehow they’d come to slide closer together on the couch, but it still took 10K by surprise when Jamie leaned toward him, angling his head to touch their lips together. In a knee-jerk reaction 10Ks head lurched back before the kiss could happen.

Jamie’s eyes snapped open and he pushed away, pulling his hands away from 10Ks, as his face flooded with colour all the way to the tips of his ears.

“Bloody hell. I’m sorry. I thought you - ”

“It’s just I’ve never…” 10K started, he brought his hands up to his face and scrubbed at his eyes. What was happening? His heart ached in his chest when he looked at Jamie’s lips. His stomach was full of butterflies. His hands were curiously cold now that he wasn’t holding Jamie’s and it wasn’t a feeling he liked.

“You’ve never kissed a boy?” Jamie asked, head tilted a little.

10K slowly brought his own arm down and let his hand gingerly rest on Jamie’s knee. He couldn’t look him in the eye, but felt in his peripheral vision that he was smiling slightly.

“I’ve never kissed… anyone.” 10K admitted.

“Anyone?” Jamie replied, his slacken jaw evident in his tone.

“No.”

“Oh.”

Jamie touched his hand to 10Ks cheek and gently brought his head up to look in his eyes. 10K was trembling terribly, but his tongue darted out to wet his lips.

“Can I be your first kiss?” Jamie asked softly, his eyes glancing down and up 10Ks face.

His voice was stuck in his throat like he’d swallowed too much bread. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out so he nodded quickly. Jamie smiled. He shuffled closer on the lounge and his other hand came to rest on 10Ks shoulder.

Slowly he closed his eyes and leaned in. Their lips pressed together in a chaste kiss. 10Ks heart soared. Jamie let his tongue slide over his lips as he deepened the kiss a little. His fingers wrapped gently around 10ks shoulder and slid upwards to rest in the crook of his neck. He broke the kiss and pulled back as 10K let out a small gasp.

“You taste nice.” 10K whispered absently and then blushed a furious red colour. Jamie just chuckled softly.

“So do you.” He whispered back, and pressed his lips to 10Ks again.

[norcumii]

Reviving from the Purge: Judgement

Originally posted 3/31/2015, as an unofficial part of the Through a Mirror Darkly universe.

dogmatix asked for: Break fic: Sith ‘verse - one of the Apprentices dealing with hiding in plain sight: wondering what would happen if they were discovered, keeping their secret from a friend, talking to their Master about it, anything like that.

Yeah, we haven’t talked about this one much. THIS might be of interest, thought. XD Here, have some angst!

*     *     *

“Well, look who’s back.”  Qui-Gon grinned as Plo Koon whipped around. The Kel Dor set down his algae pouch and near tackled him in a hug.

“You’re the one who was out on his first Knight’s assignment! Congratulations on returning in one piece!”

Qui chuckled and thumped the Kel Dor on the back a few times before stepping back. He glanced around the commissary, then grinned. “You have time to share a meal?”

“Of course. I got back a week ago. Not even Master Yoda can interrogate me that long.”

He couldn’t stop a wider grin. “My quarters, or yours, then?”

It was the damnedest thing. Plo shuffled his feet a little, steepling his hands in a gesture that usually indicated a touch of nerves. “Unless you’re going to eat around a breathmask, then it must be yours, I’m afraid.”

Qui-Gon blinked. “You’ve been gone two years, not – that was a sabbatical! They reassigned your rooms?” He bit back a flare of anger, tucking it down to be released – damn. No. Qui-Gon breathed a little deeper, struggling to release his anger into the Force. He was never quite sure he was doing it right, but at least he’d had long practice in hiding his first reaction, and the subsequent confusion he’d been wrestling of late.

Plo looked surprised. “What? No, you misunderstand. I – when I returned, I had the ventilation systems changed.”

He stared. Plo Koon had gone off to Doran to study with the Sages there, learn more about his cultural heritage and whatnot. While Qui had missed his older friend’s presence, they’d spared enough time somehow to exchange a few quick electronic letters. Plo had been undergoing training of all sorts that ran him ragged, while Qui-Gon had finally broken off an amiable enough working partnership with Sinube when the older Knight had taken on a new padawan. Having finished his first, long solo mission, Qui-Gon been delighted to find both he and Plo were both in the Temple at the same time.

Still. It was a bit of a shock to realize that the time away had changed Plo quite so much. Even if it was just that Plo had become acclimatized to Doran’s atmosphere enough to not want to wear his antiox mask –

Well, it was understandable. Just damned strange. “Mine, then. Let me grab a tray.” Plo surprised him again with a graceful nod that was almost a bow, leaving Qui feeling distinctly unsettled as he gathered up his meal on autopilot.

Back at his quarters, he was busy clearing off the tiny table he almost never used, since he preferred taking his commissary tray to the battered sofa on the rare occasions he bothered to eat in his rooms. He was watching Plo a little covertly as the Kel Dor pulled a small vial of some sort from a belt pouch. It was a deft set of maneuvers as Plo neatly pierced his algae pouch, slitting it with some kind of ceremonial hand armor he was wearing. He tapped a precise amount of shimmering flakes from the vial into the food pouch before folding it back together and tucking the vial away.

By the time the table was clear, there was no visible sign that Plo had done anything with his food.

“Vitamin supplements?” Qui asked as they sat, nodding towards the food pouch. Plo froze for a moment, the area underneath his eye lenses coloring maroon.

“Not…really.” At Qui-Gon’s questioning look, Plo sighed and shrugged in resignation. “Spices. I never realized Coruscanti food pouches were so…bland.”

Qui blinked and sat back in his chair, setting his fork down slowly. “Plo Koon.” The Kel Dor’s shoulders hunched a little. “Are you trying to tell me you went off and found out food can be interesting?”

Plo used the Force to scoop up Qui’s fork and lightly clonk him on the head with the handle before returning it to the human’s hand. “Do shut up.”

“I believe the phrase is ‘I told you so,’ and so help me, I did.”

“You were drunk, and –”

“And so were you!” Qui-Gon waved the fork at his friend, grinning hugely. “Second time ever, if you are indeed to be believed, and I’m not certain that you are!”

Plo did the thing where he conveyed rolling his eyes, and for a bit things were almost like normal, back to how they used to be. That lasted through the meal and a bit after, until they migrated to the old sofa. They both went towards their usual ends, but instead of sitting at his end, Plo pulled himself up into a neat lotus. Qui-Gon sat down a little slowly, shaking his head. “You never mentioned Sage Parum was making you change all of your habits.”

“Yes, well, in light if giving up my mask, most of the others were of no significance.”

Qui snorted. “Plo, you’ve told me virtually everything you can about Doran, yet for all that you’ve mentioned your training maybe a time or two. What’s wrong?”

The Kel Dor went quiet, studying his hands for a long moment. Then he sighed. “My friend, much has changed since we last met.”

“Then perhaps if you talked to me about your concerns, we can do something about that, instead of sitting here dancing around the rancor in the room.”

Plo dipped his head into one of those polite nods again, giving a nervous chuckle. “I think you need to pick one verb and stick with it, Qui-Gon.” He took a deep breath, accentuated by his mask. “Master Yoda has…concerns that my studies with the Baran Do might be opening me to the Dark side.”

Qui-Gon froze in place, face still a polite, open facade. His mouth was opening and moving on its own, words sharp and vehement. “That’s absolute shit. Is he stupid?”

Plo held up a placating hand. “It is more complicated than that, Qui. It is quite understandable –”

“No, it is not!” Qui lunged to his feet, pacing across the room with an almost panicked snarl crossing his face. By the time he’d turned back to his friend, the expression was gone, the emotion hidden away, and the reminder that he was prancing about like Dooku in a snit was firmly in mind. “Plo, you’re an excellent Jedi. Your track record in the field is exemplary. Going to your homeworld to study with Force–”

“Qui!” Plo pointed to the sofa, imperious and stubborn in a way the human had never seen. “Please. Sit. I know I can trust you, but this is complicated!” He sighed and slouched back against the arm of the sofa, voice both weary and exasperated. “Please,” he repeated softly. “Sit.”

Qui-Gon stood in place for a long moment, muscles quivering with the impulse to run, to challenge someone or something, and once again he felt that lick of despair and hate as he fought it all back down without showing any emotion. Then he sighed and slumped back down in his seat. “You are not Dark,” he declared, allowing himself to sound fierce for the moment. That could be explained, that was reasonable, and Force help him, Plo would understand that.

Plo would believe that.

“Thank you,” the Kel Dor declared dryly. “I like to think so as well.”

Qui let out a snort of not-quite laughter, biting back the urge to reassure the man again that no, he wasn’t Dark. Qui-Gon couldn’t even begin to imagine his friend as Fallen, though he shied away from trying to visualize it too hard.

Some notions just could not be borne.

Plo stared at his hands for a bit, then sighed and steepled his fingers with slow precision.

Then Qui-Gon’s jaw dropped as flickers of green lighting sparked between the Kel Dor’s hands. He could feel no Darkness in the room, none of the emotion or rage needed to produce Force Lightning. There was merely Plo Koon’s usual balanced presence, a little agitated and sad, but on the even keel most Jedi needed and strove for. Plo separated his hands bit by bit, letting the emerald light sparkle in a cheerful little display of power that would probably have most Jedi reaching for the nearest lightsaber.

He finally dragged his gaze away from Plo’s hands to see the Kel Dor was watching Qui closely, faint concern rippling over his Force presence even as he lowered his hands. “The hells was that?” Qui-Gon gasped, only long practice keeping him still, even as his back muscles nearly locked into place with sympathetic memory and the well-learned need to keep still.

“Not Force lightning,” Plo said, voice quiet and somber. “The name translates fairly well to Emerald Judgement. I swear to you, Qui-Gon, it is not Dark.”

“No shit it’s not Dark,” he muttered, shaking his head and trying to discretely roll his shoulder muscles back into place. He knew Dark, he knew Force lightning, and he well remembered the feel of that power flaring through his body, even as a calm, disdainful voice kept insisting he must. Hold. Still.

After all, surely no Jedi would scream under that treatment, now would they?

Qui-Gon brushed the memory away with another head shake. “Please, Plo, tell me.”

That finally made Plo relax a little. He sighed and ran a hand over his head, wincing a little as he sent a random little static spark along his skin. “The Baran Do are not Jedi. They do not study the same teachings, nor in the same manner. I had not expected to find that their skills are also more varied. Which reminds me, you and I need to spar some time with staves. I’ve learned some interesting things –”

“Plo.”

The Kel Dor went still for a moment, then sighed. “This is…difficult, Qui. I am sorry. I just…” He placed his hands back together and stared down at them. “I am…different, now, and that is somewhat difficult to accept, even if I am not Dark.”

Ice water began to slither down Qui-Gon’s back, and he shifted position a little to try to hide the quivering muscles under his tunics. “Different?” His voice was a fraction too high, but Plo didn’t seem to notice.

“Not quite Jedi, not quite Baran Do. I’ve credentials as a fully-fledged Sage, for what that is worth.” His chuckle was just a touch bitter. “Not much, I suspect. They think we are violent little bastards, impatient little busybodies that don’t sit and listen to the Force enough to hear what it wants. I was not joking when I told you that I wore out a set of leggings from excess meditation.”

“And here I thought that was a euphemism.”

Plo snorted. “No. Different skills than a Jedi, different philosophies, and though none of them…contradict the Order’s views, they are…not quite as close as I think some might wish for them to be.”

Qui-Gon closed his eyes and sought to channel his emotions. Fuck releasing them, fuck trying to be Jedi, he needed some fucking composure now. “And you wish to follow at least some of those philosophies.”

There was an odd silence from Plo. “I…did mention how none of them contrad–”

“Fuck, Plo! Why?”

He opened his eyes to find Plo watching him, face professionally expressionless. There wasn’t the slightest doubt in Qui-Gon’s mind that it was Sage Koon who dipped his head in a polite nod of recognition. “My apologies, Qui-Gon. I did not think this would upset you, nor have I intended to.”

“Oh just stop,” Qui snapped, holding up a hand. “It’s absolutely not – You haven’t –” He stopped speaking with an exasperated breath, trying somehow to find words. “I think I understand more than you imagine. I –” The words caught in his throat, even after years of friendship, even after the show of trust Plo had granted him by showing him a skill that was rife with political implications and potential difficulties. “I –”

I am still just a new Knight, his mind muttered at him, even as despair settled around him like the old, well-worn cloak it was. No one would ever believe, not even based upon this kind of trust. He closed his eyes for a moment, upraised hand curling into a fist. “I am still your friend.” His voice broke a little. “I do trust you, I merely think you’re a little mad to just – flout the Code like that.”

“I am not flouting it.” Plo’s voice was soft, absurdly gentle. The Kel Dor settled back into his lotus position and shrugged. “I just might not follow it all to the letter.”

Qui’s laugh was hollow. “With thinking like that, you should try politics. Or the Council.”

“What makes you think they’re any different?”

Good. Back on familiar ground. Complaining about the Council, the hoops they had to jump through, the topic of the Baran Do politely abandoned by silent, mutual agreement. A part of Qui-Gon wanted to thank Plo for his bravery, his kindness in sticking out the conversation for another hour and change.

The rest of him was relieved when his friend finally left.

Qui-Gon stood before the closed door, one hand on the latch, the other braced against the door itself. He let his forehead thunk against the door, pounded it with the upraised fist. He started breathing exercises; deep, powerful breaths in a measured but fast rhythm. Then he turned and walked to his bedroom, shoving the closet door open. He opened the simple storage chest tucked into the back. He paused for a moment before pulling out one of the larger boxes inside, one marked with dates from his fifth year as a padawan.

He took the box out to the cooking area, checking on his way to make sure the fire suppression system was still properly disabled.  He opened the box and upended it over the sink, sneering at the data pads and flimsiplast that cascaded into the sink. Stepping back, he shrugged and used the Force to lift the box up and over to the sink.

Qui-Gon used the Force to dismantle the box, shredding it as much as he could. The dust and splinters rained down over the detritus of life as a padawan; various notes, reading material and whatnot.

Nothing incriminating, of course. Nothing that was a hair different from that which any padawan to any Jedi in the Temple would have. All of it normal, bland, and lies, lies, lies.

Master Dooku was nothing if not an exemplary Jedi.

Qui-Gon snarled and let out his bottled emotions. Rage over ludicrous near-accusations against his friend. Grief and despair over a perpetually broken, horrible position.

Fury. Hate. Always so much hate for that. Fucking. Bastard!

He snapped out his arm, hand clenched into a claw, and violet-blue electricity exploded forth into the evidence of his past. He kept his Darkness tightly leashed, broiling emotions channeled to mirror the Darkness inwards, where only he could feel it. It rebounded back out, channeled to sear ‘plast to char, datapads sparking and exploding then melting into slag which kept burning.

When everything was gone but for the stink of burning material and Darkness, Qui-Gon lowered his arm. His breathing was still ragged, his blood still churning with emotion. He walked over to the sink with shaking legs, some of his muscles involuntarily twitching. He’d never figured out if it was past damage from having lighting flung at him, or just the trauma of the memory.

He really didn’t give any fucks.

Qui’s hand was mostly steady as he reached out and started the water, washing away the scorch marks from the porcelain. He glared down at the water, eyes burning as shame started to thread its way through the other emotions.

“Emerald Judgement” the Baran Do called their lightning, which was not emotion fueled, not Dark.

Qui-Gon knew Darkness.

His hands were steady as he washed them, clearing away the char still lingering on his fingertips. He dried them meticulously, setting the threadbare towel back on its hook. Then he braced himself on the sink, glaring down as he tried to get his breathing down to Jedi levels of calm.

Qui had to close his eyes against his faint, warped reflection off the wet porcelain, showing the yellow in his irises for all to see, and the thin rim of red surrounding them. Calm. Control. He had to regain control.

He had always wanted to be a Jedi, ever since he had been old enough to understand the concept.

He shoved his emotions back into the corner of his being where they lived and snarled amongst themselves. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he made himself clean up the shards of his life, as he always had since he’d become Dooku’s padawan. Even before he’d known.

His hands clenched tight, and he forced himself to let go, finger by finger.

Was it called Judgement because it would judge one? Did it spare the righteous, the innocent?

He didn’t dare ask. If he did, Plo might offer to show him.

Would it sear a Sith to pieces? Burn him into char?

Maybe if he was lucky, that would finally clean up all the shards of his life.

~end

[chipper-smol]

Here’s the silly lil drabble of Trotter pining. It’s gonna seem a little rambly, but that’s because it’s in Trotter’s perspective.

Trotter lies staring wide eyed at the ceiling. He's been staring for the last fifteen minutes. Other people might think that he's an insomniac waiting for sleep to take him, but it's really because he doesn't know how to fully digest all the events of the past day. Trotter takes a deep breath.

Trotter holds his globe and,

"Eeeeeeee!" he twists around left and right under his covers.

Cygnus was a gift from heaven. He had to be! He was literally a celestial body- Trotter technically was too but he feels like hes more of a classroom globe than anything. Cygnus is an amazingly strong and patient black hole. Cygnus has said before that it takes a lot of control to keep himself from randomly floating small things. That's so awesome! The talent! And he doesn't even brag or complain about it! Trotter was just asking if he ever pulled his tea out of his mug too fast- Cygnus said yes- and he explained his whole gravity thing!!!

I wonder how it feels, to be swept up weightlessly into his orbit. Cygnus wasn't physically strong at all- Trotter found that out within the first moment of re-meeting his best friend- crush??? AAah, it feels so weird to think that!!!

Trotter goes into another fit of twisting and squealing into his hands.

Cygnus was also so considerate! When they were walking through the park some kid threw a frisbee their way and it accidentally clonked Cygnus in the arm. Not only did Cygnus not seem upset, he spun the frisbee around and launched it back over to the kids with a laugh! What if he does that with other things? Is Cygnus good at bear pong? God what he would give to have experienced college with Cygnus. He should ask- what would Cygnus even be like drunk? He’s so reserved and clean, speaking proper and having everything in order. Would he get cuddly? Would he get vocal and loud? Would he crack dirty jokes? What if he lost focus on his gravitational pull. Oh no, that would be bad. Maybe not suggest a bar for their next daaaahhaaate- daaa-adate- date??? Oh jeez, that wasn’t a date! Don’t think about it like that Trotter!

Trotter groans into the pillow and kicks his legs into the mattress.

His voice too- so smooth and soft. It’s easy to talk over and Trotter feels bad that he sometimes cuts him off- but Cygnus doesn’t mind? He’s always listening intently- like he likes listening to him. People usually get fed up with Trotter’s verbal diaherra but Cygnus sticks through it??? How is he so patient? Trotter never realized that Cygnus has never rudely cut him off with a shush motion or attempted to talk louder than him. Man that’s so nice. He should listen to Cygnus more. Ask him more questions. Like- whats his favorite tea? How did he realize he liked tea? Did someone suggest it or did he find it from a TV show? What kind of shows does he watch? OOhh he probably watches those national geographic or blue planet documentaries! But those aren’t really shows? Maybe he likes shows like Black Mirror. Has he ever watched The Office? OOh that’s a good one to ask. Trotter hopes Cygnus hasn’t yet because it would be the best thing ever to rewatch a favorite show of his and watch Cygnus’s reactions. Cygnus doesn’t look like he reacts much but Trotter has figured out some of his tells.

Sometimes Cygnus will drum his fingers once if hes irritated. Other times the light band around his head will expand and contract real quick if hes embarrassed. He also cracks his knuckles when he has something on his mind- whether to share a point or somethings stressing him out or-

Trotter continues like this for the next 3 hours.

[femmescripter]

Possible Allerasermic Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics Thing

So I was just laying around when this thought hit me. And I figured I should share it with you guys. I should go on record by saying this post is about the Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics verse. So if anyone is uncomfortable with that sort of thing or just not into it then please feel free to leave at any time.  ....Did they leave? Okay! Now for those of you who are all about ABO get ready for the main event. Also I apologize in advance because this will be a pretty long post. That being said I guess you could say this is a plot outline. I’m not really sure so I just call it a thing. Anyway, enjoy!

Shouta doesn’t keep his secondary gender as an Omega secret from anyone. In fact there is a clear marker indicating he is an Omega on his ID. But everyone pretty much forgot, or never noticed. So one day, when he went through a heat-menopause, students and staff members were all shocked.

People were surprised to learn that Yagi is actually a Beta and not an Alpha, because of his commanding presence and what not. However it started to make a lot more sense when everyone considers how humble, loyal and fatherly Yagi is in his behavior. In addition to that his frequent self consciousness, not to say that all Betas are self conscious or that Alphas can’t feel the same way, also explains a lot.

The fact that Yamada is an Alpha was probably the least surprising to his peers and students. Though they’re subtle Yamada expresses Alpha-like traits lots of time. In particular the way in which he shows a more forceful nature when dealing with the press and how he can bring anyone to silence with a hard stare. And of course his booming voice isn’t just due to his Quirk but also due to how he can get everyone’s eyes and ears set to him.

Not going to say much about Endeavor as an Alpha, other than that he is a stereotypical arrogant Alpha bastard who thinks he’s better than everyone else. Well he’s like that regardless but his Alpha secondary gender just adds to it. So yeah, let’s move on.

During the moment Shouta went through his heat-menopause Yamada and Yagi where there. Yamada was immediately entranced by the spicy oak, sweet honey scent that Shouta gave off. And while Yagi couldn’t smell it as well he could detect a heavenly smell and knew it came from the stoic underground Pro-Hero. And as he looked at Shouta the Beta could see he was glowing with a certain handsomeness he’s never noticed before. Before Yamada or Yagi could say anything Midnight came in and immediately took Shouta away to the private Omega Heat-proof Room so he could take the proper suppressants. Even though a menopause-heat won’t affect people as badly as an actual heat it could still rile up the student body and the other Pro-Heroes. After that both the blonde Alpha and blonde Beta became very smitten.

About a week after this occurred, Yagi and Yamada started courting Shouta. However he only responds with indifference to both men. The students of Class 1A then rally up and take sides of the teachers whom they support, leading to the formation of Team Erasermic and Team Erasermight, and do their best to provide both men with support. After another week of waging a romantic war it all comes to a head when Yamada and Yagi face off in the hallway to engage in an epic, pulse pounding, no holds bards...slap fight. Not that they land many hits as they look away most of the time. Shinsou, who took neither side and wants nothing to do with this s**t, sees the silly battle occur and goes off to tell his mentor. Shouta then cuts the slap off short just as the two blondes start pulling each other’s hair and drags them off with his scarf. Once he get’s them to the staff room Shouta first clonks them on their heads, stating that just because he’s an Omega doesn’t mean he is a prize to fight over and win. Both blondes understand this and apologize to the underground Pro-Hero. Shouta forgives them and goes on to say that he actually did make a decision on who he would want as a mate...and it’s both of them.

Left flabbergasted by Shouta’s proposal of a polygamous relationship, Yamada and Yagi now have to start thinking about the pros and cons of pursuing such an exotic union. The two men then decide that, if they truly do want to make this work with Shouta, that they will try to get along better and so hey spend the day together. This leads the two men to learn a lot about each other and they actually start to like each other. And of course, unbeknownst to them, the students Class 1A with the exception of Shinsou follows them around to get all of the juicy gossip down. Later on Yamada and Yagi go to Shouta’s apartment and inform him that they agree to his terms. Shouta gives a rare, genuine smile and a simple nod.

A few days after these events Shouta decides that Yamada and Yagi should meet his friends, a trio of retired fellow underground heroes, who are a committed polyamorous couple so they can get a better understanding of what kind of relationship they will have. Yamada and Yagi agree and meet with the two men and woman. The trio are like a regular bunch of friendly roommates, only more romantic like. They’re very nice and open as they explain how things work in a polyamorous relationship from what they can look forward to with pros and what they should brace for with cons. After the enlightening chat the brunette Omega, blonde Alpha and blonde Beta all leave and go out for lunch. They chat a while more and then Yagi asks when Shouta would like to go out on a date with him and Yamada. After choosing a day that works for all three of them Shouta leaves, and before Yamada and Yagi part ways they share a kiss. Just a little peck on the cheek, but they’re happy about it.

Come the next school day, Eraserhead is doing a class with the students on how to make use of gadgets/suit modifications to use against villains when in combat or during a pursuit. Just then however Endeavor bursts in and interrupts the class, much to everyone’s dismay and Todoroki’s annoyance. Eraserhead is mildly concerned however and asks what the number two hero wants. Endeavor then makes this dramatic rant about how he heard that Eraserhead had accepted All Might’s courtship, and he learned that the stoic Pro-Hero is an Omega. Eraserhead mildly acknowledges the presence of the arrogant man and confirms that he is in fact an Omega and that both All Might and Present Mic are courting him. Endeavor is shocked by this and also seems to get angry at Eraserhead, and has the gull to demand why he would choose a Beta such as All Might over an Alpha like him. The stoic Pro-Hero regards Endeavor with a look of indifference and simply states that he doesn’t owe him an explanation. However, he can’t help but say, any man is better than Endeavor whether they’re Beta, Omega or Alpha. This enrages Endeavor as he grabs onto Shouta’s arm and states that he should be with him, so that they can create a new generation of greater heroes with a powerful combination of their Quirks. Shinsou, as before, sees this disrespectful and potentially volatile scene occur then hurries off to tell All Might and Present Mic what’s going on. The two blondes are furious and go over to give Endeavor a piece of their minds. All three men get into a shouting match before Eraserhead gives a loud shout for them to stop. He then tells Endeavor that his quarrel is with him and that they should settle it in a fight. And he goes on to tell his suitors to stay out of it. Both of the blondes try to stop him but Endeavor agrees so that he can show “how to discipline an unruly Omega”. The students are all very concerned by this but Eraserhead assures them it will be alright.

The scene then moves on to one of the training room arenas and all of the students and the school faculty gather around to watch the impending battle. Everyone worries that Shouta has finally bitten off more than he could chew, yet for some reason Midnight, Nezu and Ectoplasm don’t seem worried. In fact they seem rather confident and oddly smug. But everyone else is very concerned. Especially Yagi, Shinsou and Yamada. Endeavor then starts talking smack at Eraserhead, who merely stands silent despite the verbal abuse and puts on his goggles. The arrogant Alpha wastes no time and blasts his flames at Eraserhead. Everyone screams in horror as Eraserhead doesn’t move and watch him become engulfed in flames. All Might and Present Mic are about to intercede until a large mass leaps out from the large flames. Screams of horror then turned to gasps of awe as they watched what they now realized to be a cocoon of Eraserhead’s scarf, and as the scarf unfurled it revealed a completely alive and well Eraserhead. Endeavor was shocked by this and demanded to know how the underground Pro-Hero was able to deflect his flames. Eraserhead merely grinned and says it’s his own secret, and that he should focus on the fight. Endeavor doesn’t take well to the back talk and shoots more flames at the Omega man. Eraserhead, however, fluidly evades every strike with graceful leaps or by suspending himself from the rafters of the ceiling with his scarf. And the times he is on the ground Midoriya can’t help but notice how his teacher is purposely letting his scarf drag along the dirt ground of the arena. Meanwhile All Might and Present Mic are left in awe at how Eraserhead is taking on an Alpha three times his size all on his own. However Eraserhead’s lucky streak seems to come to an end when Endeavor surrounds him in a cage of fire with little room to move. The Alpha thinks he’s won and walks over to gloat, but the stoic man grins and tells him he made the worst possible mistake. Endeavor is confused by this, as are the students and teachers, until Eraserhead starts spinning along with his scarf. And the fabric begins to kick up the dirt it collected from being dragged along the ground! This results in the surrounding flames being extinguished, which also included Endeavor. The students and teachers start cheering while Midnight, Ectoplasm and Nezu all look proud of Eraserhead. All Might asks the trio if they knew this would happen and they all confirm that they did. Ectoplasm tells them that Eraserhead used that particular scarf trick, one of many he has, as a way to draw Endeavor in before surprising him with a flurry of dirt to extinguish his fire. Nezu goes on to explain that Eraserhead had recently modified his scarf to be flame retardant against heat temperatures equal to Endeavor’s own flames. Everyone looks back to the fight and sees that Endeavor’s flame has been extinguished from all the dirt Eraserhead tossed his way. Then, just before the man can turn his fire back on, the underground Pro-Hero wraps him up in his flame retardant scarf to keep his flames smothered and suspends him from the ground. It’s clear now who has won the fight and everyone cheers for Eraserhead. The stoic man then modestly looks to his students and tells them this is how to properly use uniform modifications to your advantage against a villain. Or, he adds as he looks to a strung up Endeavor with a grin, a fool who underestimates you. All of Class 1A goes up to congratulate their teacher, Todoroki looking upon him with the most gleeful face of all and eyes filled with admiration, and two certain blondes find themselves falling in love all over again.

After thoroughly whipping the Alpha ass of Endeavor all of the Omega students at the UA look up to Eraserhead with a newfound respect. While Aizawa takes the praise in stride he is none the less happy that he can give his Omega students confidence in themselves. While he grades papers he is approached by none other than Aoyama and Tokoyami, both of whom are Omegas. The two heroes in training wish to ask their homeroom teacher for advice on matters of the heart. While Aizawa isn’t an exact expert on such things he agrees to give the younger Omegas the best advice he can. So they go to the rooftop to have lunch while the heroes in training tell Aizawa of their respective problems. For Aoyama he is having self doubt about asking Mina, who is a Beta, on a date because of his secondary gender. And for Tokoyami he is concerned that he isn’t soft-hearted enough to be the “proper Omega” for such a prime Alpha like Mezo. Aizawa listens carefully to the concerns of his students and nods in understanding. He then turns to Aoyama to give him advice for his situation. The teacher asks his student if he has any regrets about his decision to become a hero, and Aoyama says no. Aizawa replies by saying that if he has no doubt with such a major life choice then he shouldn’t doubt himself in any part of his life. Further more, he adds, a real hero cannot submit to doubt both for the sake of civilians and for themselves. So the teacher suggests that Aoyama should take the plunge and ask Mina out. Then Aizawa turns to Tokoyami with advice for his plight. He asks his student if he plays chess to which the young man replies yes. The teacher then describes the “proper Omega” being just like the queen chess piece, in that the Omega must be strong and able to protect their “king”  Alpha just as the powerful queen protects her own. There’s no room for being demure if you’re going to be an Omega and you shouldn’t ever change yourself just to meet someone else’s standards. That said the teacher firmly believes that Tokoyami is perfect for Mezo just the way he is. Both the students are very happy with this advice and hug Aizawa, thanking him. While he tries to act grumpy the underground Pro-Hero can’t help but smile.

And I think I’ll stop it there, guys. This post has gone on long enough. So I hope that you all thoroughly enjoyed this half prompt/half story. If you all want to see more of this headcannon written then you must comment and say so. 

Until next time, my dears, toodles!

[darquedeath4444]

Ivy

Chapter TWENTY SEVEN

Sasuke receives a letter via a crow summon a day after Sakura awakens. The girl appears to have recovered, at least physically, and Sasuke writes a note with a meeting place and time.

Sakura seems taken by the bird and when Sasuke looks up from the paper, she is smoothing down its ruffled feathers. Sasuke attaches the note to the crow, allows Sakura to feed it, then sends it back to its summoner.

"My brother can summon them," he tells Sakura. "When we meet him, I can ask him to call on a few."

Sakura's eyes brighten. "Yes!"

Sasuke remembers that animals tended to avoid the girl. Perhaps they could smell the blood on her. Crows, being carrion birds, probably didn't mind.

He finds that her enthusiasm hurts a little, especially when he knows Itachi does not know of Sakura's involvement in the massacre of their clan. He is torn between telling him and keeping it with him.

He wonders if he had known about this before everything, would he still have decided to bond with her and bring the girl back with him? He likes to think that he would have, especially when Sakura fondly ruffles his hair and giggles when his locks simply stand back up again.

She was just a girl, after all.

The three of them leave in the evening, just before the sun has begun to set. Their plan is to meet up with the Konoha team at the Soraku tonight.

"Naruto will be there, yes?" Sakura asks enthusiastically. "And your brother?"

Sasuke shoots the younger girl a small smile and nods. "Hn."

Sakura's eyes brighten and she breaks away from him to run beside Kimimaro, enthusiastically waving her arms. Sasuke sighs as the girl breaks their travel formation, which he has no doubt she has forgotten about. Luckily, he and Kimimaro had considered the possibility of this beforehand and he shuffles a little to the left to cover for her.

Sasuke's timings are perfect and they arrive at their destination just as the sun is nothing but a line in the horizon. He senses lingering chakra signatures and knows that the Konoha team had already arrived. There is a second team lingering just around the walls of the village. A single glance in Kimimaro's direction allows him to gauge that the Kaguya is also aware.

Sakura and Kimimaro share a look of wonder as Sasuke leads them into the seemingly abandoned town. "This is one of my clan's weaponries," he explains, answering the unasked question. "After we meet up with the team from Konoha, we can restock here."

Kimimaro stiffens at the mention of the Konoha team, and Sasuke in once again reminded that despite Kimimaro's decision to ultimately trust him and follow him, the teen does not trust Konoha. While the Kaguya trusts him with Sakura's well being, the same cannot be said for his views of his Hidden Village.

Sakura, on the other hand, just looks excited. "This is my first time meeting new people outside of Oto," she announces. "I really hope they're nice."

Sasuke reaches out and ruffles her hair. "I'm sure they'll like you," he tells her.

Sakura beams at him and falls in step behind him as he leads the way deeper into the town.

The team from Konoha are doing nothing to conceal their chakra, or maybe it was the sudden bout of homesickness that amplified their presence, but Sasuke knows who exactly is here and where they are the moment he rounds the corner towards the main building.

"Teme!" Something orange and yellow barrels into him and for once, Sasuke does not move. He simply accepts Naruto's overly affectionate hug with the smallest of smiles on his face. "Still as short as ever, Usuratonkachi."

Naruto punches him in the shoulder and steps back, a scowl on his face. "Shut up." He gives him a once over and grins when he realizes that the appears unhurt. His eyes then wander away from him and towards Sakura, who had frozen at the blond's sudden appearance and had not moved since. "You must be the girlfriend!"

Sakura jumps at suddenly being addressed. "Huh?"

Sasuke scowls and is about to go clonk the blond on the head once more when the rest of the team catches his eye. "Nii-san!"

He forgets himself for a moment when Itachi appears before him, eyes gentle and a faint smile on his lips. "Otouto."

Sasuke holds back the urge to hug him and turns to the last two members of the team. "Shisui, Nara."

"Sasuke-chan!" Shisui reaches out to hug him too, but Sasuke dodges this one. He nods at Shikamaru, who he hadn't really associated with up until this point, as his cousin loudly complains to Itachi about being ignored.

Sasuke is about to say something when a yelp interrupts him and something barrels into him. "Sasuke!" Sakura spins him around it that he is facing the opposite direction and hides behind his sleeve, eyes wide.

Sasuke looks up to see Naruto standing there with a confused look on his face. Kimimaro is rooted to the spot behind the blond, expression blank. Sasuke sighs. "What are you doing, Dobe?" He asks.

"He pulled my hair," Sakura tells him crossly. "And asked if it was real."

Sasuke shoots Naruto a blank stare. "Really?"

Naruto huffs. "It's pink, Teme. Pink. I was just curious."

Sakura lets out another yelp and once again slips around to Sasuke's other side, this time so that she is facing him. Sasuke shoots a look over his shoulder to see Shisui with his hand outstretched.

"I think it's very pretty," Shisui says, grinning. "You're a very pretty lady."

Sakura flushes at this and looks down at her feet. Sasuke scowls and slowly detaches the girl from him. Kimimaro steps up beside him and the girl is passed from one set of arms to the other. Sakura smiles in delight and happily moves to hide behind Kimimaro's taller frame.

"Why don't you introduce us to your friends?" Itachi suggests.

Shisui nods. "We are all very curious," he adds.

Sasuke huffs but complies. "These are Kaguya Kimimaro and Sakura." He says, dipping his head in their direction. Kimimaro nods once and Sakura peeks out to wave. "Guys, this is Namikaze Naruto and that's Uchiha Itachi, then Uchiha Shisui and Nara Shikamaru."

"The 'Dobe'." Sakura chirps.

Sasuke smirks when Naruto protests.

Kimimaro watches Sakura poke a little more fun at Naruto then turns to Sasuke. "What do we do now?"

Sasuke glances over at the older teen. "I need to talk to them," he says. "Will you be willing to take Sakura until we're done?"

Kimimaro does not comment on how it is obvious Sasuke is leaving them out of the talk. Instead, he simply nods. "Of course."

Sasuke nods in return then turns to Itachi. "I would like to go greet Neko-baa," he says. The 'we can talk after' is left unsaid, but Itachi understands.

"Very well," he agrees. "We will meet you once you are done."

Chapter TWENTY EIGHT> 

<Chapter TWENTY SIX

[inuyashaographer]

Manga vs. Anime - Kagome Edition #49 - Jakotsu & Mukotsu

The group find themselves stopping at the edge of a village, seeing a large group of warriors traveling through it, as the villagers come to the conclusion that they must be out to try and exterminate something, after a recent attack on a group of warriors that were recently attacked by something that wasn’t human. Upon mention of this from the villagers the group makes there way over hoping to get some information. Addition scenes found their way into the anime, with Kohaku shown to be moving around the area lot sooner, and the introduction of the shrine Renkotsu is scene at later during a scene with two travelers. The villagers explain about the Band of 7 a group of mercenaries that caused destruction and chaos during their time. Eventually one of the Lords of the area feared their actions and placed a hit on them, and though they managed to get away from their pursuers on multiple occasions they were eventually found, executed, with their bodies burned. A grave would be erected for them, to appease their souls. Kagome questions about the rumors going around, to which the villagers tell the group of about the grave for the Bandy of 7 having been found to be smashed, with no natural occurrence capable of doing it. Miroku assumes that it has to do with Naraku’s aura has something to do with it, regardless the group decides since their already moving in that direction anyway, they should check it out. The anime adds in another scene after this, with Kagome sensing a shard and Sango rushing off assuming the shard belongs to Kohaku. She sees him and actually does find him. Kohaku has trouble as he sees his sister, but almost recognizes her, only to attack her moments later, when the spell takes over again. A smoke soon rushes over the area, before Sango and Kirara take their leave as Kohaku runs away. This would be where they introduce Mukotsu, or the silohette of him anyway, in the anime. Meanwhile, the group of warriors come across Jakotsu, who after a very brief exchange of words, proceeds to kill a few of the men and their horses. The remaining men attempt to surround him, only managing to be slaughter by him moments later. The anime has a small altercation, with some of the men actually having rifles, and managing to fire a few shots, and hit Jakotsu. It happens that this sound that attracts the attention of the group, who’ve stopped nearby. A second group of gunners step forward, before Jakotsu slaughters them, the smell of blood catching Inuyasha’s senses which leads the group to rushing towards Jakotsu. The smell of blood reaches Inuyasha’s nose as the group rushes forward, the smell of grave soil also is caught just as the group arrives to find Jakotsu standing in a circle of dead bodies. In the anime, they find Jakotsu looking down the barrel of one of the guns, deciding he’d take it to Renkotsu later. The group recognizes the warriors from earlier as Jakotsu notices Inuyasha and immediately takes a liking to him, much to Inuyasha’s disgust. Inuyasha questions about the smell of soil, and the connection between the rumors about the Band of 7. Miroku demands and answer, only to receive the same response from Jakotsu as he gushes about how handsome. An aggravated Miroku is prepared to kill Jakotsu before Kagome calls him off, telling them about the jewel shard that he has on him, assuming that it was the shard that brought him back to life. Inuyasha questions Jakotsu about who gave it too him, but Jakotsu continues to show more interest in Inuyasha’s looks than his questions. Growing tired of Jakotsu, Inuyasha decides he’ll have to get the information out in a fight and draws his sword. Jakotsu wastes little time to attack, surprising Inuyasha with the distance that his sword is able cut to. Immediately everyone figures out that the warriors never had a chance to attack Jakotsu due to Jakotsu’s concealed blade. Inuyasha had already assumed that Jakotsu was doing it, but now realizes that the sword itself was behind it, just before Jakotsu swings again and is able to connect with Inuaysha’s shoulder. Jakotsu officially introduces himself as Jakotsu, a member of the Band of 7 as he swings his sword, with Inuaysha barely able deflect the first swing, before the sword swings around and connects with the second. Inuyasha attempts to keep a distance bounding around, but the sword from time to time still manages to connect. Jakotsu tries to go for another swing before Sango jumps in and stops the sword. A miffed Jakotsu immediately loses his temper and attacks Sango, managing to connect with his sword, before screaming at her to stay out of his fight. Inuyasha uses the distraction to leap forward and punch Jakotsu in the face, still trying to figure out who gave him the shard he has. Because of Sango leaving earlier, the anime has her interfering, but it’s during her return on Kirara. Sango also talks about her meeting with Kohaku earlier in the episode here. Off to the side, hidden away is Mukotsu watching as the events unfold. Inuyasha tries to question if Naraku was the one that gave him the shard, but Jakotsu doesn’t know, claiming to have never met with anyone by that name. Beginning to grow irritated Inuyasha tells him he’d better not be lying before a smoke begins to move towards them, the smoke quickly dissolving the bodies of the slain warriors. Jakotsu realizes what Mukotsu is doing and quickly makes his leave, warning Inuyasha to do the same, before he disappears. Elsewhere, Sesshomaru and Rin attempt to catch up to Sesshomaru who realizes that Kohaku is somewhere around the area. Rin questions what Sesshomaru is looking for, before Jaken answers that it is most likely Naraku, after Rin was recently kidnapped by Naraku, it only further increased Sesshomaru’s desire to see Naraku dead. Unfortunately for Jaken, he runs a his mouth a bit too far, and pin-points exactly how Sesshomaru is feeling at the moment, which leads to a lump on his head. Kagome in the meantime is bandaging everyone after the recent attack by Jakotsu, but Inuyasha doesn’t want to wait, and decides to go out and look for Jakotsu. The group agrees to stick together as he does so. Miroku questions about the smoke that rushed over the area, before him and Inuyasha come to conclusion that it must be another of the Band of 7. Mukotsu meanwhile is currently prepping for another attack, knowing that Inuyasha is now going after Jakotsu. Jakotsu arrives moments later, rather irritated with Mukotsu’s interference. The two converse for a moment, after Jakotsu realize that Inuyasha is coming after him, with Mukotsu deciding to attack the rest of the group. The anime adds in an additional scene of Renkotsu taking over the temple and killing the monks. Sometime later, villagers are preparing to return home, before a smoke cloaks over the area, quickly killing them all. Kagome, arrives to the area soon after, looking for a well with water, before finding the body of a dead women. As she looks around, she notices that everyone else in the area is dead as well. More smoke follows as Mukotsu appears, before Kagome finds her body giving out on her, the smoke as Mukotsu explains paralyzes a persons body. Sango and Miroku arrive just at the moment as Kagome tries to tell them to keep away. Shippo realizing that he can move rushes off to try and find Inuyasha. Before Shippo leaves in the anime, he attempts to attack Mukotsu, but finds himself swiftly stopped. Sango and Miroku assume that Mukotsu is one of the Band of 7, which he confirms before introducing himself. Miroku questions about Naraku’s involvement, but much like Jakotsu, Mukotsu claims to not have an answer, before attempting to poison them, cloaking them in a cloud of poison as Sango attempts to use her weapon to protect them. Turning towards Kagome, Mukotsu feels that there will be no more interference. Shippo rushes after Inuyasha and using his acorns which he scatters around the area below. Inuyasha who knows that Jakotsu is close, stops when he’s clonked on the head by one of them. Seeing the acorn, Inuyasha turns his attention back to the village. Instead of Shippo finding him sooner, in the anime Inuyasha instead encounters Jakotsu and fights him, this was added in to add more time for Mukotsu’s marriage ceremony in the anime. He does find him not far into the fight, before he rushes off to find Kagome, with Shippo holding down Jakotsu with his laughing mushrooms. Assuming that they won’t be interrupted, having place a poison cloak over the hut him and Kagome are inside. Mukotsu goes on about how he was never quite popular with the ladies due to his look. However Kagome isn’t listening, her eyes trying to catch a glimpse of the jewel shard, before she sees it on his neck. Mukotsu’s attentions turns as Miroku and Sango arrive, allow Kagome to walk over and grabbed the fire-poker nearby. The wall of poison proves to be enough to hold back Miroku and Sango, coming to the conclusion that they should come in from above the hut due to the poison being weaker. Inside Mukotsu’s confidence grows as he climbs on-top of Kagome, only for Kagome to adjust her body under him and stab him in the neck, barely missing the shard. Mukotsu grows angry with yet another rejection before Sango and Miroku crash through the ceiling of the hut. Miroku checks on Kagome, who tells them to aim for his neck. Mukotsu unleashes another cloud of poison, which not even Sang’s face-mask is capable of stopping, sending both Miroku and Sango down on the ground. Kirara’s attack ends up the same sending her down to the ground as well. All the while Inuyasha is darting towards the village as fast as he can. Miroku holds onto Kagome, unable to move before he’s pushed aside, Mukotsu wraps his hands around Kagome’s through attempting to choke her before someone attacks Mukotsu, a large cut right down on his shoulder. The attack turns out to be Sesshomaru. Mukotsu questions who he is as Sesshomaru questions what exactly Mukotsu is. An irritated Mukotsu tries to turn his poison on Sesshomaru, only for nothing to happen, to the shock of Mukotsu himself. Instead Sesshomaru draws his sword, and swiftly puts an end to Mukotsu, moments before Inuyasha arrives. Inuyasha leaps in front of Sesshomaru, before Kagome tells him that Sesshomaru saved them. Sesshomaru claims that wasn’t his intention, but questions Inuyasha about Naraku’s whereabouts. From afar Jakotsu looks on irritated that Inuyasha didn’t come and find him, noticing Sesshomaru as well, realizing the danger of the situation he decides to run off with this information. Sesshomaru questions again before Inuyasha decides to answer him, not having an answer for him, but assumes that the Band of 7 are tied to Naraku and are close-by. With the information Sesshomaru decides to walk off, his intention to kill Naraku clear. His attention turns back to his friends realizing that their poisoned. Seeing Naraku’s insect, Kagome tells Inuyasha to go after Naraku, but Inuyasha refuses until his friends are safe. In the anime, oddly Naraku’s insect isn’t seen by Inuyasha and Kagome, and instead Kagome tells him about the potion in her bag before she passes out. Not entirely sure the reason for the change, since the insect pretty much confirmed Naraku’s involvement, while also showing Inuyasha’s urgency in the situation to ensure everyone was alright. With Rin, Jaken and Rin discuss where Sesshomaru meant, as a bored Rin looks around and sees Kohkau in the distance, getting a shard from one of Naraku’s insects. As Rin wonders what Kohaku is doing around there, Jaken questions about Rin’s reaction, but Rin denies that anything is wrong. Turning her head, Kohaku is gone, leaving RIn to wonder if Sesshomaru will kill Kohaku next time they meet. Jakotsu in the meantime has traveled to a shrine and is talking to Renkotsu, going over the recent deaths of Kyokutsu and Mukotsu. Jukotsu trails off on his taste in men for a moment, before questioning about Naraku, but Renkotsu says he knows nothing, and that only the leader of the group has ever meet Naraku, promising to give the shards only if the group killed everyone coming after him. Renkotsu questions about those of the group that were poisoned and comes to the conclusion they will most likely arrive to the shrine, knowing that Mukotsu’s poison would take some time to heal from, especially with Ginkotsu currently making his way towards the group.

Notes

This covers Episode #103: “The Band of Seven, Ressurected”, Episode #104: “The Stealthy Poison User, Mukotsu" and Chapter #236: “The Band of Seven”, Chapter #237: “Jakotsu”, Chapter #238: “Poison Smoke”, Chapter #239: "Mukotsu”, Chapter #240: "Naraku's Pursuers” of the manga.

There are a lot of differences between Mukotsu and Jakotsu, all leading to a similar end goal. While Jakotsu is handsome and far more charismatic, Mukotsu is the opposite, not much of looker and lacking a lot in charisma and especially with tact when it comes to the opposite sex. Jakotsu is much more brutal, with masochistic tendencies to match, he literally prefers to play around, before, during and after, while Mukotsu spends the bulk of time attempt to assert himself over his victims, attempting to validate himself. While there end goal is the same, both are in it for the sexual thrill of it, Jakotsu takes a much slower approach, torturing his victim, where Mukotsu validates himself, and ends things rather quickly.

With the above, both Kagome and Inuyasha encounter the two, most prominently, during a time when their at their most vulnerable. Kagome being paralyzed and unable to do much of anything to protect herself (or so it appears), while Inuyasha is forced to face Jakotsu during his most vulnerable of times, in his human form.

I can’t blame the anime for the change made, since it has largely to do with censorship, and an attempt to tone things down. However I think it did mess around with the scene as a whole. The anime focuses so much on Mukotsu’s “marriage ceremony” and Kagome’s reactions to what is happening, which pulls a lot of focus out of what actually happens in the manga, even though it does eventually happen in the anime. The manga focus was on Kagome’s plan, the moment she’s trapped with Mukotsu, her eyes are on his neck, she’s focusing and planning out how to kill him. She even attacks him before he has a chance to do anything. Takahashi leaves Kagome’s reaction to Mukotsu’s actions for after she gets him away from her. That follows Takahashi’s outline of Kagome’s character, even when she’s in danger she’s not a victim, because she’s trying to think of way, a means to get away or trick her way out, in this case she plays possum, making Mukotsu believe he has control over the situation, before she stabs him in the neck.

Kagome stabbing him has a notable change, from having to stab him while he move on-top of her, to stabbing him while he’s standing. The anime makes it more clear that Kagome missed due to the effects of the poison, where in the manga it’s more matter of Mukotsu’s positioning and Kagome having to adjust her arms in order to make the stab. In the anime she has more room to stab him, where in the manga she can only move her arms so far into position in order to stab him. It doesn’t change much of anything because the idea is the same, Kagome’s nerves and senses weren’t all there, she was running on a mixture of adrenaline, will and just plain guts, to get close to actually killing Mukotsu, in a move that likely would have put down most normal men.

I see the similarities with Kagome’s approach here, and with Kagome’s approach with the The Thunder Brothers the most, however this Is really how Takahashi has always presented Kagome’s character. Even in her most dangerous situations, Kagome is never made out to be a victim, and damsel, but she still experiences fear when the moment calls for it, that comes from human frailty. Moments like these remind us of the human frailty, that I think we all sometimes forget about that throughout the course of the series. Miroku, Sango and Kagome all suffer from that limitation in this arc, it’s not the first, and it certainly won’t be the last for each of them. Kagome gets over that hurdle in part because of her immense powers, but Takahashi makes sure that the Kagome that is a smart and strong-willed girl, using her brain, intuition, and ability to read people is always present with her character.

It’s the above aspects that actually creates the respect between Kagome and Sesshomaru as character, and unsurprisingly Sesshomaru makes an appearance within this arc. Sesshomaru reasoning for saving Kagome and the others comes back to that respect, his swiftness and brutal approach that isn’t often seen outside of moment where he’s denied information or dishonored in some way, isn’t his usual approach to things, showing that his priority first and foremost was to get Mukotsu away from Kagome before he began to question for information. Mukotsu’s reactions are telling of this especially, due to Sesshomaru’s “unprovoked” attack, and being completely blindsided, his attempts to retaliate only further capture Sesshomaru’s ire before Sesshomaru puts an end to him. This like the above allows Takahashi to present the respect that Sesshomaru has built for Kagome, allowing her to show his intentions to keep Kagome safe, while still allowing Sesshomaru to retain his “image” even if nobody, but himself, believes it.

[chevalier-on-the-wall]

Story: Bar Songs

It was during the period the Guardians called the Age of Triumph, so full of hope and hubris.

In the Cosmodrome--then, all but captured for the City--were a few places where enemies still congregated and tensions still flared between them. This was one of those places. Hive streamed out of the caverns they'd dug under the earth. Inside the shells of Golden Age buildings, the Fallen rallied and picked them off. Crashing into both sides like a ravenous tidal wave were the Taken, directionless since the death of Oryx. Not that he remembered that at the time; he was only raised after the Taken War was already over.

The novice Titan had died four times in the last ten minutes, and it was starting to get exasperating. This time he kept a bit of distance as he watched the battle, racking his brain for some way to fight through them. He paced back and forth like a frustrated predator, arc Light tingling along his skin like static. Or maybe it really was static. Right before his last death, he'd attempted a Fist of Havoc, only to punch the ground ineffectually and promptly get swarmed by irate Thralls. It's probably static.

The gentle voice of his Ghost murmured inside his helmet: "You could always go around them." He immediately stopped his pacing, struck by the novel idea and feeling rather silly that he hadn't come up with something so simple. After a moment of awkward silence, lingering at the edge of a heated firefight, he was about to find his voice when--

--a sparrow roared over his head, its Hunter driver leaping off in a flourish of brown and silver--

--and then he was gone. The sparrow clonked ineffectually against the side of one of the many derelict structures covered in Old Russian letters.

Despite the sparrow's presence, the Titan wasn't entirely sure its driver had been real. "What was that?" he asked of no one in particular.

"Getting out of a bad situation." Before he could react, a hand clapped him on his back, making him jolt. The Hunter reappeared, speaking in a gruff male voice, craning his neck to get a good look at the Titan. "Good skill to have. Heading my way, Kinderguardian?"

"Why does everyone call me that?"

"You're listless like one."

"Ugh. Fine. Yes, I'm trying to get past these..." The conversation paused at the sound of the Hunter's sparrow exploding. "...These."

"Then c'mon." The Hunter brandished a scout rifle, an older but well-kept Jigoku, and looked down the sights. "I'll cover you. Give 'em hell."

"We could just go around them," the Titan offered, echoing his Ghost's earlier advice.

The Hunter lowered his gun and stared back, struck by the novel idea and feeling rather silly that he hadn't come up with something so simple. After a moment of awkward silence, lingering at the edge of a heated firefight, the Titan summoned his sparrow and the Hunter leapt on behind him. Together, they skirted around the edge of the battle, before slipping past and rumbling off down a snow-covered road.

"Couldn't you just resummon your sparrow?" asked the Titan.

"Could. But you don't get a free ride every day. Name's Samsid, by the way. You?"

The Titan paused. "...Rrrrreynault. I'm Reynault."

Reynault could feel Samsid's scrutinizing gaze on his back. "...Traveler's knickers, how green are you?"

"Green? I'm not green! I'm human!"

Samsid paused, clearly not expecting that response. When he spoke, his voice was laced with mirth: "I mean, how recently did your Ghost first scrape you up?"

"Two months ago. Why do you ask?"

"Curious. You get to pick your name?"

"Yeah. Didn't you?" Reynault briefly looked back at his passenger.

"Kind of. Long story about backwards names and mistaken identities."

"That is a joke. You are joking."

"Wish I was."

Reynault did a doubletake, his sparrow slowing down a bit as he did.

Samsid shrugged. "Cayde's dumb," he said, as if that explained everything.

It didn't, but it did get a full-bodied laugh from Reynault as he shifted his focus back to the road. "Oh, mon Voyageur. He can be a bit...a bit...a lot? A bit of a lot."

"A bit much?" Samsid offered.

"A bit much! That's the phrase. He...wait, don't you report to him?"

"Yeah. Still dumb."

Reynault made some noise between a chuckle and a sigh. "Fine. I don't think the Traveler has knickers, though."

"How do you know? You an expert on giant space gods or somethin'?"

Another chuckle. "No, but--"

"You a Warlock now?"

Reynault decided to play along. "I'm actually three Warlocks inside a suit of armor."

"How's that work?"

"Well, one Warlock rubs the other two together until their robes get all static-y, right? Then the first Warlock punches something, and it looks like arc lightning coming out."

Samsid cracked up, gripping Reynault's pauldron with one firm hand as he doubles over with laughter. "Hoooooo, good one! I like you, Rey."

"Rey???"

"You. You one of those full-name guys?"

"I...don't know?"

"Look. Rey." Samsid pulled one hand off Reynault's pauldron, only to replace it with the other hand. "You gotta establish your nickname policy up top. Get it out of the way and settled. Else, it's gonna get wild. Go to uncomfortable places, Rey."

"What...."

"Reyn. Rey-rey. Nault. Reysin. The Juggernault."

"Stop."

"Reyn in Spain stays mainly on the plain--"

"STOP."

Much to Reynault's surprise, Samsid fell quiet. They drove on for a full minute in an uncomfortable silence, as the road took them past old, rusting structures looming silently overhead. "...Isn't Rey the Warlock Vanguard?"

"Ikora, yeah."

"Yeah. I know I said I was three Warlocks in a suit of armor, but not her."

"How's Reyn, then? With the N on the end?"

"Reyn is fine. Nault is fine. The rest are garbage."

"And that's the nickname policy covered. Pull over a sec."

Reynault slowed the sparrow to a stop amidst the dilapidated buildings. "What is it?"

"Got a target in there." Samsid slipped off the sparrow and drew his old Jigoku in one single, fluid motion, before he started meandering toward a dark, gaping doorway in one of the buildings. "Some Knight's mucking things up enough to make the Big Z want to show him a good time."

"Quoi????"

"The hell's a 'qwuh'?"

Reynault shook his head, mostly to himself. "I mean, what did you say? In English?"

"Ughhhhh." Samsid stopped in his tracks, not even bothering to turn around as he rests his scout rifle against one shoulder. "The Vanguard put a bounty on a Hive Knight, so now I'm going to go kill him. Traveler's pants, Nault, you even look at a patrol beacon before?"

"Of course I have!" Reynault puffed his chest out indignantly. "I have a bounty to...." He paused as his Ghost muttered the details of his until-now-forgotten mission inside his helmet. "...Kill Hive. Get their chitin armor. Dead Orbit."

Samsid pivoted on the ball of one foot to spin around and face Reynault. "We both need Hive. Headin' my way?"

After a second of processing, Reynault nodded. "You know what? I think I am."

Together, the two Guardians turned toward the yawning, dark doorway. They entered with little hesitation.

Inside the long-abandoned structure was a dim and dusty mess of corrugated metal walls, occasionally pocked with the telltale chitin of Hive bioarchitecture. Reynault's footsteps echoed around the metal maze; Samsid's were almost unnaturally silent.

When they heard the claw-scrabbling and screeches in the dark, when they saw the sickly green glow refracting around the corner, they simply looked to each other and nodded.

Reynault rounded the corner first, drawing his blocky, modest Häkke auto rifle and unloading on the first target he saw--a hapless Acolyte. "Haha! Hey, you three-eyed monsters! Nice day for it, huh?" From the direction of an old, broken Hive seeder, embedded within the otherwise dark, low-ceilinged room, came a shrieking chorus with a volley of return fire and a swarm of Thralls.

He ducked behind a square structural support pillar and let the Thralls come. The first leapt at him, eagerly trying to bring its claws down in a vertical swipe; he blocked it with his thick vambrace. The second made a horizontal swing while he was distracted, raking the side of his helmet. The third lunged low, sensing an opportunity, but by now the entire swarm was close enough. Reynault dropped his rifle for just the split second he needed to smash his fists downward. This time, it wasn't static, but a brilliant bloom of arc Light--a textbook Fist of Havoc.

The Thralls vaporized, he retrieved his rifle and turned his attention back to the Acolytes, only to see more flashes of arc Light. Samsid was in the thick of them, flickering in and out of sight to a staccato rhythm only he could hear. On every other beat, another Acolyte corpse spilled from behind a structural support, until the dance was done and Samsid fell back to his position.

"Fresh out of super. You?" Samsid didn't even sound winded.

"Same. What was that?"

"Never seen a Bladedancer dance? Traveler's 'stache, Nault."

"You keep naming these things the Traveler doesn't--" The banter was cut off by another shriek as a Knight lumbered out of the trashed Hive seeder, sword in hand.

Samsid raised his scout rifle again, looking down the sight. "That's our man."

Reynault didn't need to be told twice. With no hesitation, he did what any good Striker would do: charge in. He barreled past the supports, an indistinct battlecry in his throat. The Knight readied its sword, but at the last moment, Reynault pounced and wrapped both his arms around the thing's neck, barely holding on to his auto rifle with one hand.

Samsid lowered his gun and stared, flabbergasted, as the Titan swung onto the monstrosity’s back and hung on for dear life as it tried in vain to shake him off, reach around and grab him, or anything. He continued to stare when Reynault got gutsy and tried to wriggle his auto rifle around so the barrel was pointed at the Knight. He continued to stare when the auto rifle went off, a little too early, and the Knight staggered back into a pillar. When he asked, his Ghost informed him the whole thing lasted about twelve seconds. He was impressed.

He raised his scout rifle again, just in time to see the exhausted Knight bring its sword down on the prone Reynault with a bone-shattering crack. There was a second crack barely a heartbeat later, and the Knight fell backwards, dead.

Silence. Stillness. Then, the gentle blue glow of a Ghost resurrecting its charge. Reynault hauled himself back to his feet.

Samsid strode over the carnage toward his new friend, glee in his voice. "I'm buying you a round later. You drink?"

"Quoi?" Reynault looked at him, then down at the Knight, then back up at him. "...Oh, you mean alcohol? Yeah, I drink. Wait, you're buying?"

"You rode that thing like a mechanical bull! 'Course I'm buying!"

"Like a what?"

"I'll show you a vid later. Got all the Hive parts you need?"

"I think so...." Reynault looked to his right, probably still expecting his Ghost to be out. "...Yeah. Yeah, I have enough."

"Great. Let's." Samsid spun on his heel and started leading the way back outside.

He wasn't going to come out and say it, but no one had ever bought Reynault a drink before. He hadn't really made any close friends yet, not among the other Guardians. Now one was offering to go drinking with him. How could he say no?

Samsid was human, too, all bone and sinew, with short, deep brown hair and sunken eyes that could all too easily be hidden by the shadow of his pronounced brow. He clashed with Reynault's blonde hair, broad shoulders, and open, youthful face. But the way they laughed over their drinks that night, no one would have guessed they had met earlier that same day.

At closing time, they staggered out into the streets of the Last City, one arm around each other's shoulders as they swayed drunkenly.

"You, you're a good one," Samsid slurred. "Good pal. Nault."

Reynault looked his way with a stupid grin. "Yeah, Sam?"

"I'll show you 'round the Tower. I mean the real tour. Not the...the...the Vanny-guardy one. The real tour."

"There's a real tour? Why didn't I get that?"

"Vammaguard gotta look good." Samsid snickered. "Vammaguard. Vangeeerrrrrrd."

"Vargardarar?" Reynault offered.

"Yeah, them guys!"

Reynault broke into a full on laugh. "My English is better than that!"

"Pah. You'll get as bad as me. You wait." Samsid gestured at nothing in particular with his free hand. "Better hope you don't...get that bad. Yeah."

"Hope shines brightest in the dark," Reynault replied with a shit-eating grin.

Samsid tried to muster a dirty look, but couldn't quite do it. "Don't you quote random bar song lyrics at me."

Reynault replied by throwing his head back and breaking out into joyful, drunken song. "Hope shines brightest! In the dark! Where nothing's ever seen!"

After a bout of laughter, Samsid joined in. Together, they shambled down the street. The night was clear. The air was crisp and cool. Above them, the Traveler hung in the air, the city lights dancing across its surface, helping it shine against the dark.