#I have a lot of muse for this fucker so deal with that bitch

[secrettyrant]

closed starter, margo's car somewhere in canada tate and lexi @dxrkenedheights

.

"It's been a while." Tate drawls, his words weaving through the air like wisps of smoke from a spent joint. It's been years since he had one, but he swears he still smells of the stuff. His eyes fix to the gas station, watching the flicker of movement from the others moving through it. His gaze darts next to the rearview mirror, half-expecting the flashing lights of authority to shatter the tranquility of the moment. It's just a deserted road, a nothingness. But he could swear he sensed something. His hand moves to rest against the steering reel, a subtle tremor twitching his fingers. Not from fear or anxiety but a greed. His whole body tired because of how greedy the feeling is that burns his veins. Even when he's quiet, even when he's calm, his heart always feels like it was made to be prey. "They must've found something good." he mutters, his voice a lazy murmur tinged with the edge of apprehension. With a languid movement his hand drops to the shift so he can start the engine and ease the car closer to the gas station. "Think they said to stay here because we fuck everything up?" now he can look at Lexi in the passenger seat, and finally a grin moves over Tate's lips. Tired, calmly confident which always contradicts him. But his laugh emits just as a sigh, his hand knocking to Lexi's leg as he predicts his joke to not land without turbulence. "Was kiddin', Lex. Lookout is important too."

[ducknotinarow]

Ramble About: 2k12 Karai! Specifically, her dealing with her new siblings [Foot!Casey AU basically] xD

| ramble about your muse

I will be keeping this mostly to the foot!Casey Au cause im living for this whole concept now uwu

At first karai like many kids when new kids are brought into the family hated them. Well more the idea of her father having more kids.

it didn't take long for the three to become close however

Angel is just pure baby and Karai took to being a big sister pretty easy

I like to think Karai helps with doing Angel's hair

that the two have little slumber parties that Casey either is allowed to join or just sort of joins in on

The first time Angel refered to Karai as her big sister she almost cried. She has some family issue all things consider so it was nice.

She tots uses Angel to gag up on Casey cause Angel can get him to agree to anything.

She has "bought" a lot of gifts for Angel over the years

Casey took a bit more to warm up to cause of them having similar tempers and Casey being pretty brash

Karai now feeling she had competition for Shredders approval as well considering she and Casey are the same age (some sexist bullshit too since Casey's a boy I sure she felt her place could be taken at any moment as the heir to Shredders clan.)

With all this pressure one day Shredder snapped at her and she handle it fine in front of everyone but once she could she took off and hid to cry.

Casey came to check on her and manged to cheer her up cause well hes a lovable idiot.

Soon Casey wasn't just a sort of rival but also a source of comfort.

She wasn't alone anymore she had siblings and that kind of changed everything for her.

Casey and Her fight all the time often butting heads ofc but anytime someone wanted to call out Casey as merely being adopted in the clan? they were dealing with Karai.

Casey lives for the fact hes a month older than her and during that month where he is she has to deal with him being the biggest bitch. Since Casey likes to say he's the oldest meanwhile Karai all well im the heir but age matter more apparently XD

Despite all this because Karai is known as a trouble maker rebel as they got older she used to sneak him and her out so they could sneak into hockey games. Especially for his brithday.

Karai, Casey and Angel often would do this as well just sneak out into the town for a bit

If Shredder got mad Karai always took the fall for them all. So to protect the other two and because Shredder would hold back a bit with Karai.

I can see the three of them getting all done up like doing make up get dressed up in street clothes and such to hit the city or just something to do at home.

They likely had a sort of movie night thing to least when younger when they got older not as easy since karai often is busy with foot clan stuff to learn from Shredder.

I feel Shredder dose plan on each kid doing something in the clan when they get older. Karai is still heir but maybe plans Casey being like right hand so the one in charge of missions which is why he gets the mission to play double agent later.

Even if they fight often they do have nice moments here and there so when Casey was given his mission to be double agent so to speak? She was very worried

Casey is a bitch and such but Karai knows he has a good heart as well so she keep tabs on his progress

When she noticed he seemed to be getting closer to Raphael though? She worried not ever thinking he betray them no because eventually Casey was going to have to betray Raph and that may lead to Casey's heart being broken

Often would tease him over this obvious development but it was her way of checking in on him.

Look she knows hes a freak and monster fucker but she can tell Casey clearly caught feelings here.

Karai is known to throw some wins at the turtles in this AU it was away to let Casey have more time because she could tell her brother was actually enjoying his time, buying him a bit more of that before things had to be put to an end

In other words despite all their head butting Karai would do anything for her brother to be happy and her sister of course.

Once Casey's cover is blown and his mission is considered a success? Karai poses Shredder should maybe keep the turtles? Since he hasn't fully decided what to do. Her motive? maybe Casey can still be with Raph somehow.

I never liked this jacket as part of her wardrobe so I have decided it's Casey's and she fucking stole it uwu

[thearvariblues]

Sing Me a Song

“You Geralt of Rivia’s bard?”

Jaskier looks up from his notepad and grins at the man who’s just sat at the opposite side of the table.

“Technically, I used to be,” the bard says, taking a sip of his ale. “We had a tiny misunderstanding last year. I’m sure he’s gonna be fine, though, I’m just giving him some time to cool down and wallow in self-pity.”

Jaskier frowns, because his brain has finally caught up with his mouth and informs him that even though the man who asked the question is very pretty (and he is – a bit short, but lean and clearly very agile, brown-skinned, with dark, wavy hair and stunningly unnatural green eyes), he also has got two big, scary swords strapped to his back, way too many scars and has, in fact, only one green eye, the other being covered by an eye patch, presumably missing.

And then there’s the Cat school medallion on his chest.

As Geralt would say… fuck.

“Unless you’re here to kidnap me and torture me to lure him into a trap. If that’s the case, I’ve never met a Geralt of Rivia in my life. Also, if you harm a hair on my head, he will hunt you down and kill you, very slowly and painfully. Just a heads up,” Jaskier smiles, utterly failing to sound at least a little bit threatening.

“Thanks for the warning,” the Witcher laughs. “But I actually need you to write me a song.”

“Sorry, I’m afraid this bard already has a Witcher to praise,” Jaskier protests, shaking his head firmly.

“Ugh. Who says I want praise?” the man says, making a face. “I just can’t seem to find a friend of mine, so I need to make him find me.”

“With a song? Do I look like a fucking pied piper?” Jaskier smirks.

“A little, yeah.”

“Fair enough. What’s in it for me?”

“What do you think is going to happen once Geralt hears that his bard has found himself a new muse?” the Witcher grins.

“Oh,” Jaskier says, chuckling. “Oh, but that’s good.”

“Are you in, then?”

“Absolutely. And, uhm… What did you say your name was?”

“By the gods, where are my manners?” the Witcher laughs. “I’m Aiden.”

*

Geralt places two tankards of ale on the table and sits down with a grunt.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting old, Wolf,” his brother Lambert smirks and promptly pulls one of the tankards closer. “Because that almost sounded like Vesemir when he’s trying to get up from his chair.”

“You’re so fucking funny,” Geralt murmurs.

“I know, right?” Lambert grins, tucking a strand of curly red hair behind his ear. “So, how’s life on the Path without your beloved bard?”

“Not my bard.”

“So pretty fucking terrible, eh?” Lambert chuckles.

“Fuck off, Lambert.”

“You’re being very nice and friendly today, you know?”

“I bought you a drink. So shut up and… drink.”

Lambert shrugs and for once does what he’s told. Within a few seconds, half of the tankard’s content vanishes.

“If it’s any consolation, life without my Cat is also pretty fucking unbearable,” he says then.

“Hm.”

“Oh, really, Geralt? You’re using your famous hm against me? Me, your brother?!”

Geralt groans.

“By the gods… Why can’t I just run into Eskel for once? Why does it always have to be you?”

“You’re just lucky, I guess.”

“Lucky. Yeah.”

Lambert rolls his eyes and focuses on his ale again – until the local bard grabs his lute and starts playing a slow, romantic ballad. Lambert growls.

“Fuck, I hate that song!”

“Why?” Geralt blinks, because he’s never heard the song before, and to be perfectly honest, it doesn’t really sound that bad.

“A brown-skinned woman with dark hair who’s seemingly killed, then comes back to life already plotting her revenge, only to find out that her lover’s already avenged her? Always reminds me of Aiden.”

“Aiden wasn’t exactly… A woman, was he?”

“He also hasn’t come back to life, as far as I know,” Lambert mutters.

“Who wrote it?” Geralt frowns, listening carefully. “It sounds like Jaskier’s work.”

“Some Master Dandelion. Never heard of him, but it seems he’s very popular now.”

“Hmmm…”

“Oh, not again!” Lambert groans.

“It just… It really does sound like Jaskier’s song.”

“You just fucking miss the bard, Geralt, that’s all.”

“No. No, I actually think…”

“That might be exactly the problem,” Lambert says and places his empty tankard back on the table. “The second round’s on me.”

*

“Seems like your plan’s not working as intended,” Jaskier comments. He’s spent weeks traveling with Aiden, and they still haven’t even heard about another Witcher trying to find them.

“I’m aware,” Aiden mutters, chewing his dinner without even noticing its taste – which is, honestly, probably for the best. “Could you be, like… less subtle?”

Jaskier shrugs.

“I suppose.”

“Fine,” Aiden nods. “Do it.”

*

“It’s a man now,” Geralt frowns, listening to the song he’s heard countless times already. “That’s new.”

“Looks like Master Dandelion might like to, uhm, dual wield,” Lambert snorts.

“It still sounds like Jaskier’s work.”

“Does Jaskier like to dual wield?”

“Hmm,” Geralt says dreamily.

“All the more reason to apologize, then, eh?”

“Oh, shut up, Lambert…”

*

“Still not working!” Aiden groans. He’s been waiting for three months for his Wolf to find him, and to no avail.

“I could, you know… Try something more obvious,” Jaskier offers.

“Please.”

*

“It’s a cat now,” Geralt blinks. “Dark-skinned, dark-haired… cat.”

Lambert sighs.

“Yeah, I hate those fucking metaphors.”

*

“I’m starting to think I should have just… kept trying to find him,” Aiden sighs, staring out of the tavern’s window.

Jaskier, cheeks still flushed from his performance, downs his ale and shakes his head.

“Don’t give up hope just yet,” he says. “I’ve already made a few changes to the song.”

“Oh, have you?” Aiden smirks. “Does it now say Lambert, I’m alive you moron, stop hiding and fucking find me?”

“Well, not yet… But almost.”

“Great. I can’t wait to hear it.”

*

Lambert is staring at yet another local bard singing the fucking ballad. He doesn’t even blink. Geralt is getting a little worried that his brother’s brain might have actually exploded.

“It says a Cat Witcher now,” he says, hoping it would get a reaction out of Lambert.

The redhead finally blinks. That’s probably good.

“A Cat Witcher who comes back to life only to find out his Wolf lover has already avenged him,” Geralt adds.

Lambert blinks again.

“And you know, I’m almost sure that this Master Dandelion is just Jaskier’s new alias.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” Lambert mutters when the song finally comes to its end.

“Which one of them?” Geralt smirks.

“Both of them!” Lambert growls. “I swear to gods, if I find out your stupid bard stole my Cat…”

“Excuse me, madam,” Geralt says to the innkeeper who’s just brought them their dinner. “Where did your bard learn this song?”

“That sappy ballad?” the innkeeper frowns. “From this Master Dandelion himself. He passed through the town last week with a Witcher.”

“And Master Dandelion…”

“You know the bard that calls himself Jaskier? It’s him with a fancy hat on,” she smirks.

“About this Witcher,” Lambert growls. “Does he look like in the song?”

“Pretty much, yeah. Kind of small for a Witcher, and almost too pretty, you know, but we had a little griffin problem and he slayed that beast like it was nothing, so…”

“I’m so gonna kill them both,” Lambert murmurs while Geralt has to try very hard not to chuckle.

“Would you happen to know where were they heading?” he asks.

“I would,” the woman says and looks at the Witcher expectantly.

“I see,” Geralt sighs. “You have another monster problem, don’t you?”

“Well. It turns out the griffin probably had a mate…”

“Of course it fucking did,” Geralt nods and picks up his fork. He simply refuses to deal with this with an empty stomach…

*

Jaskier critically eyes the clothes he’s picked for tonight’s performance.

“What do you think, Aiden?” he asks his companion. “Isn’t the purple a bit too much? It’s a small town, after all. Wouldn’t the steel blue look better?”

“I don’t know, I like the red one best,” Aiden shrugs from his spot on the bed.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Reminds you of Lambert’s hair,” Jaskier says, rolling his eyes. “Melitele’s tits, I wish he’d find us already, because this is getting really–”

As if on cue, the door of the room slams open and a big, red-haired man walks in.

“You fucking bitch!” he yells when he sees Aiden.

The dark-haired Witcher beams and gets to his feet.

“Lambs!”

“Oh. Okay. That was fast,” Jaskier nods.

Lambert growls and grabs Aiden by the collar.

“Asshole!” he hisses. “I fucking mourned you!”

“Oh, honey, that’s so sweet,” Aiden smiles.

Lambert pushes him against the wall, so hard that Aiden grunts.

“I cried for you!”

“In my defense, it wasn’t exactly my fault,” Aiden smiles.

Jaskier inches towards the door.

“I guess I’ll just… leave you two to it.”

Needless to say, Lambert ignores him completely.

“I fucking avenged you!”

“Yes, that was very kind of you,” Aiden grins, utterly unaffected by Lambert’s angry face so close to his own. “You saved me a lot of trouble.”

Lambert groans, buries his face in Aiden’s shoulder and sighs deeply.

“You fucker,” he mutters.

“Yeah, I missed you too, puppy,” Aiden smiles, wrapping his arms around Lambert.

Jaskier, who’s already standing in the doorway, places his hand on his heart and takes a deep breath.

“Oh,” he whispers. “I shall write the most beautiful ballad about this… Ow!”

He’s unceremoniously dragged out of the room and this time it’s his turned to be slammed against the wall by a big, angry Witcher – but this one is white-haired and dressed all in black.

“Geralt!” Jaskier exclaims, his face brightening up.

“You won’t write a fucking thing,” Geralt growls.

“Is that so? May I ask why, dear heart?”

“Because you’re mine. My bard. And if I ever find out you’re writing about another Witcher again–”

“Then what?” Jaskier asks, cocking his head. “But before you answer, I’d like to remind you that I am not yours anymore, as you have made it quite clear on the mountain that you are not interested in having me as a companion–”

Jaskier is effectively shut up by Geralt’s lips pressing against his with determination that makes it absolutely clear that Geralt hasn’t merely lost his balance and happened to be falling in Jaskier’s general direction.

“Mine,” he growls.

“Well,” Jaskier sighs, slipping his fingers into Geralt’s hair. “When you put it like that… Fuck the mountain, I suppose.”

“Fuck the mountain,” Geralt agrees. “But I’m sorry. For what I said.”

“Apology very much accepted,” Jaskier laughs. “I’d ask you to fuck me, but I’m afraid my room is currently… occupied.”

Lambert’s loud moan only confirms Jaskier’s statement.

“Hm,” Geralt hums. “Do you think this tavern has a bath? I think I still have some griffin blood in my hair from last week.”

“Oh,” Jaskier purrs. “Oh, yes. And I’m sure I could get some chamomile oil…”

They hear another moan, this time Aiden’s.

“What are we waiting for, then?” Geralt grins and grabs Jaskier’s hand. “Come on, bard. We have some catching up to do…”

[lonely-lost-soul]

Fight For Me

(C!Technoblade x gn!possessive!Reader)

Request 11: could I maybe request some c!techno x gn!possessive!reader fluff that follows someone trying to threaten techno while completely brushing off the reader only for the reader to step in and feral threaten them back (perhaps some fighting ensues with reader coming out on top) and then techno is awestruck by his partner which is then where the fluff comes in

Requested By: @bowlofsoup

I hope you like it!

“Sweetheart can you do me a favor and pass me the blaze powder,” Technoblade asked from his hunched-over position at his brewing station. He was wearing more casual clothes, his glasses loose on his nose, hair pulled back into a messy bun. You sat next to him on one of the chests, legs swinging up and down, you were wearing one of Techno’s oversized shirts.

“Sure thing,” You hummed tossing open the chest and handing him a bottle of said powder, he reached forward to take the bottle from your hands and you kissed his lips before he could take the bottle. Technoblade purred happily, his eyes going half-lidded at the surprise kiss, you chuckled against his lips as he flushed pink.

“Cringe.”

“Nerd,” You shot back with a smile he rolled his eyes focusing back on his potions, “Why’re you making these again?” Your gaze shifted towards the window. It was snowing again, it was always snowing. You hated that you were getting sick of the constant cold you wondered what the weather was like back at L’manburg or L’manhole was a better term for the once-prosperous nation. Technoblade looked back up at you, his hand reached out to interlock with your own, which caught your attention snapping you out of your daydreaming and you smiled back at him.

“Someone wants to buy them off me, figure sees what they’d offer me for it, not like I’m worried about getting jumped or anything,” Technoblade smirked coyly at you, almost like he was awaiting your praise. You didn’t fall for it though, simply letting out a little hum in approval, he frowned and cleared his throat.

“Oh sorry. Oh baby you’re so brave and strong, no one can take you down.” You pressed your hands together swooning sarcastically, Technoblade frowned and put you into a headlock. You laughed loudly instead of fighting against him you snuggled in his hold, “You’d never hurt me.”

“Try me.”

“Is that a challenge?” You mused with a flutter of your eyelashes, Technoblade flushed a little and grumbled under his breath. He could feel the smugness radiating off your entire being, if you were anyone else he would’ve sent you through a wall.

“Just shut up and grab a bag for the potions. They’re almost done.”

“Yes sir.” You saluted hopping off the chest to grab your bag from the coat rack, it was a soft brown bag covered in patches. Holding the bag open you allowed Technoblade to place the potions inside of them, “we ready to go?”

“You grabbed your coat and had breakfast right?” He raised an eyebrow, it seemed to be your turn to flush and Technoblade frowned, “Right?” Technoblade’s eyes narrowed in your direction and he watched you tap your fingers together sheepishly. “You’re a disaster, you’d be dead without me. Eat,” Technoblade dragged you into the kitchen and pulled out a roll for you to munch on, “Jam?”

“Yes please.” You gave a firm nod as he grabbed the knife and spread it on the bread before handing it to you.

“Remember to eat, can’t have my Starlight starving themselves,” The way you turned red made the hybrid smirk coyly at you. “You mean too much to me to go out in such a lame way, there has to be at least a little bit of bloodshed. Maybe some dismemberment if you’re lucky.”

“Damn and to think I was flattered for half a minute.” Techno chuckled at your comment, a deep rumble in his chest, you couldn’t help but smile yourself. You bit off a piece of bread, teeth tearing through the food easily “Ready to go now?”

“Finish eating then we can go. There’s no rush.”

“Isn’t someone waiting for us?”

“Let them wait,” Technoblade shrugged, wrapping his hands around your waist and pulling you close. You melted into his warm body closing your eyes, just taking a moment to bask in your love for the Blood God, how did you get so lucky?

Unbeknownst to you, he was thinking the same thing about you.

Eventually, you pulled away from him, much to his displeasure, and reluctantly said you both should head out. He huffed in protest and you pecked his lips, assuring him that the long journey would be worth it in the end. You both slide on your winter gear and headed towards Carl in the stables, you scratched the horse’s nose and he whinnied at the attention from his second favorite person. Technoblade tossed him an apple to which he munched on happily before applying his saddlebags to the sides of the horse, he hopped onto him and held a hand out to you. You took the hand with a wild smile swinging your leg over the side of Carl and wrapping your arms around Technoblade’s waist securely. He looked at you over his shoulder and pecked your forehead lightly, you cooed at him in response, and just like that the both of you were off. As you traversed the Tundra, your adoring boyfriend decided it would be a great time to quiz you on your fighting skills. He always did this, especially when he was nervous about something, you concluded a part of him was nervous the deal would go south and you’d end up hurt. You squeezed him a little and answered all his questions in hopes you’d ease his worries, it seemed to work as he relaxed against your chest. You would’ve played with his hair if it wasn’t tied up in a bun, so instead, you settled for giving him gentle kisses on the back of his neck.

He was a wreck by the time you got to the meeting spot, all red-faced and embarrassed. You did feel a little guilty but it was also very entertaining to watch him slide off the horse all frustrated with your antics. “You’re lucky we have somewhere to be,” he vaguely threatened and you hummed,

“What happened to ‘they can wait?’” His red eyes narrowed into slits and Carl stomped his foot, “oh you’re such a party pooper.” You complained as the horse nudged you forward towards the meeting spot. Technoblade huffed now turning his glare on Carl for interrupting your moment. He adjusted the sword at his hip and marched forward expecting you to follow, you did, but it’s the principle that irked you. Walking a little way down the wooded path you came across a man in a beanie leaning against a tree, he had small yellow wings and a scar going from his right eye down to the top of his lip. Your head snapped to Techno and you hissed, “You didn’t tell me it was Quackity! The mother fucker planned your execution!”

“Hush.” He waved you off, “money is money. If he can offer us something good we shouldn’t complain.”

“But-”

“Finally!” The man groaned stretching his arms above his head, his small wings fluttered as he pushed off the tree, “Took you long enough. Who’s your little friend?” He raised an eyebrow at your stature and you glared hotly at him, already wanting to tear his throat out.

“My partner.” Technoblade answered monotonously, “Is that important?”

“Romantically or like your bodyguard.” He snickered at the mental image of the Blood God hiring a bodyguard for himself.

“That’s none of your business.” You snapped, Technoblade’s hand squeezed your shoulder trying to calm you down.

“I suppose not.” Quackity clapped his hands together, his two golden rings bouncing off one another making a soft clicking sound, “let’s get down to business than Mr. Blade. I want the potions you have, what exactly do you want in return?”

“What can you give me?” Technoblade raised an eyebrow, his hand never leaving the bag of potions at his side, Quackity tapped his chin in thought.

“Anything you desire. I came into a… a lot of money recently, a lot of people owe me a few favors. So I can truly give you anything,” Quackity smirked as you noticed Technoblade’s eye twitch, he didn’t like the sound of someone having so much power, and to be honest you didn’t either.

“Huh. well alright then.” He grunted drumming his fingers against the bag, “these favors people owe you, what exactly did you do for them?”

“Are you asking me to spill all my secrets? Techno you dog.” He purred out teasingly, “they made some bets with me and they lost simply as that.”

“What did they lose?” You asked and Quackity rolled his eyes,

“You’re a talker aren’t you?”

“Back off.” Technoblade snarled earning another eyebrow raise from the man, but you did briefly see fear flicker across his eyes. “You talk to them like that again deals off and I take another one of your teeth, understand me.”

“Understood, big guy. No hard feelings.” He held up his hands in defense his tiny wings ruffling a little bit showing off his nervousness, “Although your attitude just proves my point. You’re a brute and you’ll always be a brute.” Technoblade didn’t respond to the harassing but had a feeling you might as the pressure on your shoulder increased. Your jaw was set hard, as Quackity continued, “you truly are more monster than human.”

Oh, he did not just say that to Techno.

In one swift movement, you pulled Technoblade’s sword from its sheath at his side and drew it in front of you, pure anger flooding through your veins. Techno tried to grab the sword before you did something stupid but you were already charging at Quackity. He looked a little frightened as an ax appeared at his side, “Take it back.” You spit as metal clashed against metal, your eyes blazing with unadulterated rage, “Take it back right now. He’s so much more than that.” You swung the sword back which caused Quackity to stumble backward throwing off his rhythm,

“Bite me bitch.” Quackity snapped back attempting to regain his footing as he blocked another blow from you,

“Don’t tempt me birdie.” You sassed right back, which threw him off his game again not expecting you to come back with a retort and a nickname. You kicked him solidly in the chest and he fell flat on his ass the sword swung and the tip dug into his throat. His adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped nervously,

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.” He sputtered out as you narrowed his eyes, “look I’m sorry okay, okay! My mouth gets the best of me sometimes, I’ll admit that! I’m a humble guy!” You rolled your sharp (e/c) eyes at that statement, “Look, deal still on this time I’ll throw in two gold rings yeah?” He swallowed thickly “Also all the diamond I have on me and in my enderchest.”

Turning to glance at Techno for the first time he cleared his throat looking absolutely flushed. He shifted uncomfortably and marched over to the both of you a hand resting on your lower back. Technoblade glared down at the duck hybrid,

“We don’t want your rings. I want all the money you’ve won from your deals and a god apple.”

“I don’t have-”

“Then think of it as an I.O.U. birdy.” You pursed your lips feeling Technoblade squeeze your back, “Deal?” The tip of the sword dug a little deeper into his throat,

“FUCK! Yes, yes deal!” He squawked and you removed the sword, Technoblade immediately took it from your hands shooting you a look that screamed,

‘We are talking about this later.’

Technoblade tossed the contents of the bag at Quackity and he snatched up all the potions he could shoving them into his chest. Immediately handing you the diamonds he had on him, as Quackity scurried away Technoblade didn’t remove his hand from your back. Once his yellow wings disappeared into the treeline Technoblade spun you around and pressed a kiss to your lips. It immediately stole your breath away, as you stumbled back a few steps.

“That.” He kissed your jaw, “was the hottest,” he kissed your neck next, “thing we’ve seen in a while.” Technoblade purred pressing another passionate kiss to your lips, your hands desperately tried to pull out his hair from his bun to give it a hard yank. A louder purr rumbled from his chest as he pulled away to rest his forehead on yours,

“So the voices liked my badassery too?”

“Oh yeah,” his eyes fluttered a little his breathing hitching, “god they want me to just bite the shit out of you. Mark you all over. You can’t tease them like, they’re sensitive.” You cooed softly tracing his jawline with nimble fingers,

“I’m so sorry. I’ll make it up to them once we get home.” His eyes shot up to meet your own lidded ones, with a loud whistle he called Carl over, he scooped you up in his arms causing you to laugh loudly.

You could safely say that was the fastest you and Techno had ever gotten home.

[melo-yello]

✨Self-Care Day✨w/ 💥🪨KiriBaku HeadCanons💥🪨

Off Day

💥🪨 You’re hanging upside down on the couch in your shared apartment with a boyfriend on either side of you. Kiri’s hand in yours while Baku’s had one hand on your thigh and the other scrolling on his phone as some cartoon drones on the tv

💥🪨 This is not how you envisioned your first free weekend into the last two weeks going



💥🪨 You sigh loudly before poking out your bottom lip “Suki? Eiji? I’m bored.” you pout dramatically as you throw a hand onto your forehead before you continue “Can we do a self-care day?”

💥🪨 Baku just grunts in affirmation as he stretches before standing. Kiri just smiles “Of course, Pebble. Whatever you want.”

💥🪨 You pop up pecking both guys on the cheek as you bounce off to the kitchen with Kiri’s hand still in yours “Thanks you two are the best!I’ll make tea!!!”

💥🪨 “And don’t you forget it!” Bakugou smiles popping your soft ass as he follows behind most likely to micromanage

💥🪨 You three chat about your week not having much time outside of courses to really talk. Between studying, training, and hero work you guys just didn’t have a lot going of free time.

💥🪨Per usual you and Kiri really carry the conversation Baku only chiming in ever so often to offer up things that he hates

💥🪨 You pop up remembering one of for favorite parts of a good ole fashioned treat yo self day. The cute headbands for you and Kiri to push your hair out of your faces. You return with a pink bunny one, a brown Teddy Bear one, and a plain black headband. Baku takes the black and Kiri takes the bunny.

💥🪨 “How do I look, Peb?” Kiri smirks flexing to show his broad ass built ass frame after putting on his bunny headband. “Ridiculous.” “-ly Hawt!” You laugh correcting Baku

💥🪨 You film in absolute awe as your Manly bf’s pierce Suki’s ear with ease after the off handed joke you made sipping tea. Cue Baku voguing it up with pride and a freshly pierced ear. Bakugou is slightly leaner and a couple inches shorter but just as toned

💥🪨 “Suki, Eiji, you are too manly!” You hype your man up as you post the video to your IG story

💥🪨 It’s your turn now!! Kiri easily pierces your ears with a red stud in your right and an orange in your left. Adding a second set of holes right above your first ones

💥🪨 Next comes high quality and novelty animal face masks Bakugou buys online to compliment his vigorous skin care routine. It rivals half of the YouTube Beauty community’s

💥🪨 Niether of you have any idea of where he buys them or where he hides them for that matter. He stores them away so you guys can’t steal them when he’s not around. Bakugou allows you and Kiri to use his masks on special occasions tho

💥🪨 “Mr. and Mrs. Dumbass.” He smirks handing you a frog and Kiri a tiger. Earning him a playful jab from you and “A Thanks, Babe.” from the red head

💥🪨 You suggest nail 💅🏾 polish next and Kiri is automatically on board. “Oooooo can you make them Red, Babygirl? Because they’d be so manly!” Kiri beams bouncing up and down. Baku will only allow his middle fingers painted. “I want white with bombs or just F U. Whichever is easier for you, Teddy Bear.” Bakugou nods scrunching up his nose from behind his own red panda face mask.

💥🪨 Kirishima’s nails are a simple sparkly red that say 🤍BITE MANLY in white while Bakugou’s middle fingers are white with black bombs with an orange F U on each one respectively

💥🪨 After you peel off your masks, you and Kirishima squeal in nearly perfect sync “Oooooooooooo! Sooooo Soft! Aren’t we hawt, Bakubro! Seeeeeeeeeee!” Both of you placing his hand on your faces

💥🪨Bakugou will just roll his red eyes into the back of his head as you two wrap him in a tight embrace “I’ve told you idiots a thousand times the importance of regular skin care with quality products.” He shrugs nonchalantly even thought he loves when you two are touchie with him. He hates to admit it

💥🪨 As you begin to search you nail kit for your preferred color, Kiri grabs your hand and presses it to his cheek “Can we do yours, Pebble?” He pouts. Bakugou follows suit grabbing your other hand “Pretty please, Teddy?” He whines firmly pressing your hand to his heart.

💥🪨 You buckle so fast it’s not even funny. “Bbbbbbbut...😤😖😞fine.” You concede

💥🪨These two really know how to put on the charm. Especially if Bakugou Kasuki is calling you Teddy instead of Dumbass.

💥🪨 “Great! Y/n, pick out a show to watch before we start.” Baku barks handing you the remote. “Why?” You question snatching it and putting on Criminal Minds. Simply thrilled you were getting to pick (Typically there were mini competitions for such a privilege)

💥🪨 “You’re judging, Bighead. You can’t look til we’re done.” Kiri hums thoughtfully trying to pick a good color combination. Baku already had his colors hidden in his lap before scouting so his hip was against yours sure to obscure your view of your own hand from you.

💥🪨 “Yea, no bias. When I win it’ll because I’m the best! Isn’t that right, Shitty Hair!” The ash blonde smiles cockily at the red head across from him. “In your fucking dreams, Spark plug!” Kiri spits backs just taking all the colors and copying Bakugou’s positioning

💥🪨 “If either of you fuckers, get those polishes on my favorite jeans there’ll be hell to pay.” You warn with a sinister tone to rival even Katsuki’s and the widest smile. The boys shiver at the seriousness behind your smile. Your threat is far from empty

💥🪨 You pretty much figured your nails would probably look terrible with each of your vividly different boyfriends competing with each other. “What do you, dorks, even get for winning?” You muse leaning into Kiri’s broad ass shoulder

💥🪨 “The next date plans and solo cuddles with Teddy Bear for the rest of the night seems fair to me. Huh, Eijirou?” Baku looks up from his work with a self assured grin blowing one of your nails. Vermilion irises float from you to Kiri.

💥🪨 Knowing damn well niether of them could keep you their hands off you. “Deal.” Kiri nods without giving Baku the satisfaction of meeting his gaze.

💥🪨 “Oh and I get shitly painted nails.” You sigh rolling your eyes. You’d be lying if you didn’t find it kinda hawt when they got like this

💥🪨 “There.” Halfway through the 2nd episode Kiri says and finally caps his last polish. Blowing gently across the surface of your nails.

💥🪨 By this time Baku has placed your arm on his lower back and his head in your lap. A firm grip on your wrist so you couldn’t checkout his work until Kiri finished. Your fingers make light circles there despite being held hostage. “Bout time, slow poke.” Baku huffs releasing your arm as you brought both hands side by side.

💥🪨 They had somehow managed to pick colors that didn’t totally clash. Kiri’s hand were mix match rose gold and pink with the teeniest (not to mention even) little white hearts in the middle of each nail.

💥🪨 Baku’s hand was very simple and clean. Black French tips with one red to orange nail with a black X on top as an accent.

💥🪨 You weren’t expecting anything this good. You could barely speak. You hadn’t been this lost for words since they had asked you out. You sniffle a lil bit. Your eyes glass up a little too.

💥🪨 God your partners are so great sometimes. The fact that they genuinely gave a fuck still manages to catch you off guard at times. After so many terrible relationships, effort, in and of itself, is kinda baffling

💥🪨 “Damn Pebs, it’s not that bad if you squint.” Kiri laughs nervously squeezing your shoulders. “Woah there, Teddy Bear, I’ll get the remover.” Baku stands ruffling your curls before you grab his wrist stopping him in his tracks.

💥🪨 “Suki. Eiji. Don’t be mad but I can’t pick! You guys both did really good! Fuck! I couldn’t ask for better lovers. You assholes are so much better than I deserve!” You gush before hiding your face in your hands. A little ashamed you let your boyfriends doing something as simple as your nails make you emotional.

💥🪨 “But Baby you deserve the world.” Kirishima immediately scoops you into a bear hug as he stands spinning you with ease and peppering you in kisses. Kiri places you back down even more gently than picked you up

💥🪨 “Princess, you’re a bad bitch! Don’t you dare forget it!” The shorter ash blonde says unwaveringly lifting your chin so you’d meet his eyes. He softly bops your forehead before kissing it and both cheeks. He pulls you close right as he yanks you up to straddle his waist

💥🪨 “Eijirou, I think our Babygirl needs a reminder of who she is and who she’s with.” His already deep ruby eyes darken lustfully. With no hesitation Kiri is right behind you in seconds

💥🪨 “I know just thing to jog our Pebble’s memory, Katsuki.” He whispers licking the side of your neck just as moves to capture Katsuki’s lips with his own

💥🪨 “Promise?” You moan softly lacing fingers into Kiri’s loose kitchens and trailing a cool hand across Baku’s abdomen stopping only at his joggers waist band

💥🪨 With that the three head to the bed room for some much needed group physical therapy

[bastardtetsu]

critical thinking | ch①

pairing: kuroo tetsuro x gn!reader

genre: college au, enemies to lovers, tsundere!reader, slow burn

wc: 1.9k

warnings: swearing, being a theatre major 

※ mlist | ● ② ③ ④

you knew it was a dumb bitch move to procrastinate on your science requirement.

trying to schedule gen-eds around the demanding requirements of your theatre degree was already a nightmare, and your aversion to maths and sciences makes it even more difficult to find classes that both fit in your schedule AND don’t make you want to actively drop out of school. you weren’t sure why you thought putting off your one and only science credit until your final semester was going to solve any of that. so, you couldn’t be shocked when your only option to graduate on time ended up being 9am chemistry 1. on a monday, no less.

the first class is just as bad as you expect. the lecture drags on for ages, and as much as you will your sleepy morning brain to wrap your head around the concepts being thrown at you, no amount of caffeine, color-coded notes, or mental gymnastics can ford the river of brain-muddling frustration standing between you and a passing grade - the one you need to graduate.

panic begins to set in as you visualize all the hard work you put into your degree rendered useless, all because of a class that doesn’t even have to do with your field of study. who decided there had to be a science requirement anyway? i don’t need fucking chemistry to get a theatre degree??

“if you’re having trouble with anything,” your professor announces, bringing your attention back to the lecture that's finally wrapping up, “the tutoring center on campus is a great resource. i also hold office hours at the times listed on the syllabus. that’s our time for today folks, have a good week.”

you check the syllabus - all of the professor’s office hours conflict with your other classes, of course. asking your classmates is out of the question, seeing as you’re the lone arts major in a sea of STEM and pre-med. as annoying as it is to have to add another item to your schedule, tutoring seems like the only option if you want any hope of graduating. luckily you have some time before your next class, so you pack up your things and head for the tutoring center.

you pray that a decent chem tutor is available during any of your limited free time as you approach the lady at the desk of the tutoring office. she informs you of several with hours later in the week, none of which align with your schedule, and one who is available for the next hour. you figure tutoring right after class isn’t a bad deal - especially considering it’s your only option. the woman gives you a classroom number and a name - kuroo tetsuro - and you set out.

it doesn’t take you long to find the right classroom, but you aren’t prepared for the sight that is waiting for you there. a strong jawline and a mess of black hair that appears to stick up on its own catch your eye first as he taps away at his phone screen, his bored slouch doing nothing to hide his imposing height.

“um... hi, kuroo?” you say tentatively. his eyes glance up from his phone, slightly startled.

“oh, hey,” he responds, sitting up a bit, “you here for tutoring?”

“i am,” you reply with a half smile, “y/n.”

“kuroo. nice to meet you, y/n,” he pulls out the chair next to him as an invitation, “what year are you?”

“i’m a senior,” you say as you make your way over and sit down, “i’m in chem 1.” he definitely seems taller up close, even sitting down.

“chem 1? as a senior?” he asks derisively, his lips curling into a smirk. embarrassment and annoyance shoot through your chest.

“i’m a theatre major, alright,” you respond dryly, “i’m just trying to get my science credit and go.”

“left it ‘til the last minute, huh?” that smirk is still on his face.

“yeah, not my best decision,” you reply, trying not to let your annoyance seep through, “but i’m just trying to pass this class so i can graduate.”

“well, hopefully i can help with that,” he says smugly, “i may be a lowly business major, but i’m pretty good with chem if i do say so myself.”

a business major. of course. you’re familiar with the future capitalist machinery of the business school from your limited experience with the frat parties they so densely populated. needless to say, the impression was not good.

“so what do you need help with?”

“um...” you pondered, “all of it?” he snickered.

“you’re gonna have to be more specific if you wanna get anywhere.” his tone is dripping with amusement. is he trying to piss you off?

“ugh,” you let out an exasperated grunt, suddenly averse to showing any kind of weakness to this jerk. you pull out your notebook and flip to the page where you had attempted to take notes earlier. “this stuff.”

he leans over to take a look at your notes, and as his eyes scan the page you suddenly notice his smell - some fancy-smelling cologne with like, sandalwood or some shit - and his strong but elegant bone structure. i could cut myself on those cheekbones, you think.

“these notes are terrible.”

annnndddd he ruined it.

“well i can’t exactly take good notes if i have no clue what’s going on,” you counter, “isn’t that what you’re supposed to help me with?”

“i can try,” he says with an amused grin, “but I’ve never seen someone struggle this much with the basics on day one.”

now, you could put up with a lot of shit, but the one thing you cannot stand is being condescended to. especially not by some egotistical capitalist fucker who barely knows you.

“look,” you say pointedly, holding back the urge to throat punch him right then and there, “i’m really busy, and i just wanna pass this class, so if you could help me without being a dick about it i’d really appreciate it.”

“aw, but where’s the fun in that?”

his lips twist back into that patronizing smirk - he’s definitely trying to get a rise out of you.

“fuck off,” you say with a roll of your eyes, refusing to take his bait, “are you gonna teach me chemistry or not?”

he chuckles quietly again, thoroughly entertained. “sure. only because I’m so kind, and i could use the challenge.”

you scoff, but hold yourself back from retorting. you don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

at first, it’s excruciating. you loathe this douchey business bro getting off on being condescending while explaining chemistry to you like you don’t understand anything - which, to be fair, you don’t. but that somehow makes you resent him more.

granted, once you actually get down to business, kuroo is actually a pretty good tutor. he’s not actively annoying when he’s actually trying to teach you something, and he’s surprisingly patient and good at breaking things down. dude is smart, there’s no denying that.

nevertheless, even when he’s not being snarky, every correction he makes seems to fluster you more. you hate looking stupid in front of others, and something about kuroo seems to amplify that feeling by a thousand. you blame his attitude.

as you fumble trying to wrap your head around the unfamiliar numbers, symbols, & formulas, you’re simultaneously attempting to maintain a shred of dignity in front of this man who clearly thinks of you as the dumbest bitch on the planet. and the more you struggle, the more you worry he’s right.

“seeeee? i told you it wasn’t that hard!” he hums as you finish off another homework question you’d been struggling with. he can’t seem to praise you without being patronizing as fuck, either. you look up from your page momentarily to shoot him a glare.

frustration and embarrassment simmer inside of you with each of his snide remarks, but you hold yourself together and divert the attention back to studying each time. the restraint it takes not to deck him right in his pretty face is honestly deserving of a nobel peace prize.

“not bad,” he muses as you finally finish off the last of your homework, “and it only took you two and a half hours!”

“i’m floored,” you deadpan. your brain is too exhausted to formulate a more clever comeback. then you suddenly realize - “hang on... has it actually been two and a half hours? i thought you were only available for one??”

“technically,” he shrugs, “that’s when my tutoring hours end. but I wasn’t doing anything after, and you seemed like you needed the extra help.” that shitty smile is back. you can feel your blood boiling, but at the same time that... is actually pretty nice of him?

“ah... th-thanks,” you mumble, still resistant to showing any signs of weakness - much less gratitude - to the messy-haired prick.

“so, should i expect you back next week?” his stare reminds you of a cat sizing up its prey.

“uh... maybe,” you say. you honestly don’t have an answer yet. “i have to run though, i’ve got another class to get to.”

“don’t be a stranger,” he grins, “you’re gonna need a lot of help if you wanna graduate.”

you shoot him another glare as you swing your bag over your shoulder.

“i’ll think about it.”

he's still smirking at you as you walk out the door.

—

as much as you’d like to deny it, there’s not much to think about. none of the other chem tutors are available when you are, and there’s no way you’re passing the class without the extra help. and, as insufferable as he is, kuroo did help you get through your entire first week of homework successfully.

of course, you still resent having to rely on some nasty ass, pompous business major to mansplain chemistry to you every week so you can graduate. well, technically it’s not mansplaining since you don’t actually know anything about chemistry. and you technically also asked him to do it. but god, does he have to be such a dick about it??

it’s just an hour or two once a week, you reassure yourself, you can put up with it.

this is easier said than done, of course. the following monday, you begrudgingly approach the same classroom, empty except for one (1) chickenhead douchebag, who promptly stares you down with the most shiteating smile you’ve ever seen.

“oya oya~ look who decided to come back!” he croons.

“don’t flatter yourself, it’s not like I had much of a choice,” you respond flatly. why is he still looking at me with that dumb expression?

“true, there’s no way you’re passing on your own.”

“listen,” you reply pointedly, “some people have better things to do than worry about how many neutrons are on hydrogen or whatever”

“hydrogen doesn’t have any neutrons.”

“COOL!!!! i just want to graduate!!”

“well then you’re gonna need to know that hydrogen doesn’t have any neutr-”

“ALRIGHT, i got it,” you huff, “can you just… help me figure out this balancing equations shit? WITHOUT being an asshole about it?”

“hmm… sorry, i can only accept one request at a time.”

this is gonna be a long fucking semester.

a/n: eeeeee this is the first time i’ve actually wholeheartedly attempted to write a fic in lord knows how long (possibly ever?? idk them memories repressed) and my first time posting my own writing so i hope y’all like it !! everybody who’s ready to see me trash talk k*roo t*tsuro say way ho

[immortalcoelacanth]

Between the Walls, Chapter 3: To Earn His Keep (Dream SMP fic)

*hits table*

I have so many wips, why is my muse just like this?

Word count: 5313

Summary: Jobs are assigned and questions are asked as to why the hell Tommy and Techno are still putting up with one another.

Tommy had been confused as to what Techno meant by him having to work to earn the right to stay in his house. What work could he possibly do that would benefit him?! He couldn’t chop wood, or mine any precious resources. Crafting was also out of the question since he could only make things that were good for someone his size, so that left…

Nothing.

There was nothing he could do. There was no possible job that would suit him that Techno would benefit from, so he honestly had no idea what would come of the deal they had made. Perhaps nothing at all, and he would be allowed

Yeah right, as if he had ever been that lucky.

“TECHNOBLAAAAAADE! YOU FUCKING DICKHEAD!” Tommy howled as he clutched the wooden bars of the makeshift cage he was in. It was practically a repurposed box, the gap between the bars being too slim for the borrower to slip through, but even if they were big enough, he wouldn’t dare escape.

Primarily because of the large pit of groaning mods below him.

Apparently, the “work” Techno had planned for him was nothing more than him acting as bait for a basic mob farm. He was suspended above a pit, his cage attached to a wooden outcropping, and the faint glowing of the strange, red and orange cubes below him allowed him to easily see the hoard of zombies, skeletons, and the occasional creeper milling about.

He glanced back at the house and scowled, knowing Techno was probably sitting inside, all safe and warm. The cage barely blocked out any of the freezing winds, and since Tommy hadn’t been able to grab a jacket before being put out here, there was nothing to protect him from the cold. He was stuck, freezing and yelling at the top of his lungs.

Damn that stupid pig-

… Or hybrid.

It was a term the borrower was vaguely familiar with, he had been eavesdropping when one of the farmers back in Borrowton mentioned “hybrid plants” and how useful they could be. From what he knew, hybrids were like a sort of mixture, two different things being used to make one. Two different plants producing a new one.

He guessed one of Techno’s parents really was a pig fucker.

Tommy snorted at the joke before shuddering in the brisk breeze, arms wrapping tightly around himself while he huddled up on the floor of the cage. It sucked, being out here with nothing but the mobs for company. At least when he had been with Techno, he’d been able to interact, to socialize. It was something that he had always craved, to be able to reach out and connect with people. Even Techno’s occasional barbs, jokes, and the anger he caused Tommy to feel was better than being stuck outside.

Bastard, going from acting like he wanted to protect him to sticking him out here.

… Speaking of which, it had been very strange to witness that exchange. See the way that Techno hesitated to reveal his presence, and the fact that he had tried to hide Tommy further after the librarian made it aware that he knew the borrower was there. Some part of him had cheered, recognizing that maybe the pig-hybrid actually cared about him in some way, even though they had only known one another for about a day, but Techno’s actions earlier-

“What’re you making?” Tommy hesitantly asked as tried to stare at the crafting table. He had basically been told, ordered, to wait on the table while Techno finished whatever it was that he was making. Not wanting to anger the pigman, he had reluctantly done his best to stay in place.

Fidgeting the entire time, of course. Staying put had never been his strong suit.

“Just something to help with your new job.” Techno explained before turning around and showing off the cage he had made. “Gonna make things a lot easier.”

“... What’re you gonna put in it, then?” Tommy questioned, not at all liking where this was going. Of course, the answer he got was one he had expected, but still never wanted to hear.

“You, duh.”

Techno grinned, and Tommy felt his heart drop.

“You’re gonna be the bait.”

Had obliterated the small sparks of that hope. Techno didn’t care about him and only saw him as a means to an end. Probably why he got so huffy when that other guy noticed him. Clearly no one was allowed to mess with or torment Tommy unless it was Techno himself-

Twang!

The borrower let out a startled yelp as an arrow slammed into the side of his cage, making it rock and sway. He scrambled to the side of the enclosure and tried to spot what had shot at him. His eyes scanned the empty yard, briefly landing on the empty stall that Techno must have built for some reason. It was weird to just have that structure sitting there, all empty and ready for some animal to inhabit it-

There!

Tommy shook himself out of his thoughts as he spotted the source of the arrow. A lone skeleton that had, somehow, not stumbled over and fallen into the pit, was aiming at him, bow drawn and another arrow pointed in his direction. He immediately backpedaled, arms flailing as the newest arrow was released, just barely missing the cage.

Shit, shit!

“Fuck off you stupid bitch!” Tommy howled as the skeleton readied another arrow. As it was aimed at him, his panic and the pitch of his voice increased until he was practically shrieking. “FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU-”

Twang!

Another arrow slammed into the skeleton’s skull, bone shattering and turning to dust. The monster dropped to the ground, the fallen bow and arrows the only sign of it ever having been there, and he quickly looked over at what, or who, had shot the arrow.

Technoblade.

Of course.

“Couldn’t have shown up any sooner, you bitch?!” He shouted, internally cringing when those too bright, red eyes landed on him. He watched as the hybrid rested the crossbow he had used to kill the skeleton on his shoulder before making his way over to the wooden post. He glared down at Techno, more than aware of how not intimidating he looked as he shuddered in the cold. Although, his glare lightened up when he was finally removed from the post, less exposed to the winds as he was unintentionally sheltered by the hybrid’s body.

“I was just testing a hypothesis I had.” Techno simply responded. The borrower waited to see if he would elaborate on what that meant. A moment passed, then two, and then-

“Well tell me then! You don’t need to act so secretive!”

That tiny, near invisible smile on Techno’s face grew as he started to speak. “A hypothesis on whether your voice is annoying enough to instantly agro mobs, and it is from the looks of it. Congratulations-”

“Wh-you bitch!” Tommy sputtered as he raged and pointed aggressively at the amused hybrid. “I have the voice of an angel! It’s not annoying!”

As if trying to prove Techno’s point, and in turn prove the borrower wrong, another arrow was launched at the duo. Techno easily dodged it, hardly sparing a glance at the new skeleton as he returned fire and took it down, while Tommy was jostled about thanks to the sudden movement. He just barely managed to stop himself from smacking his head against the wooden bars, and that scowl on his face grew deeper.

For some reason, Techno possessed the uncanny ability to infuriate Tommy no matter what he did. Whether it was his occasionally smug, know-it-all attitude or how obtuse he could be at times, there was just something about him that never failed to upset the borrower.

… Not that he would ever tell him, of course.

Of course, his general unease and anxiety towards this new situation did not help in the slightest, leaving him on edge and ready to snap when something potentially bad happened. It was a miracle he had not been killed yet, and he quietly wondered how much longer his luck would last.

Not that such a thought would stop him from acting like how he typically did.

So, as was in his nature, Tommy immediately started shouting and cursing once more. “And why the fuck did you stick me up there for so long, anyways?! It was freezing up there-”

“You wanna go for round two?” Techno interrupted, lifting the cage up so Tommy could easily see the wooden post he had been hanging from. Immediately, the borrower backed up and started shaking his head.

“No! No, c’mon man! I was just teasing you!” He backpedaled. “Just a little joke, I swear!”

“The only joke here is your accidental pun.” Techno quipped, his smile growing as he watched realization, and then horror, cross Tommy’s face.

“Listen! It’s-it’s a crime to make jokes about me being small, because I’m not! Absolutely criminal!”

Techno let out another chuckle as he shut the door behind him and made his way towards the table. “It’s a good thing I don’t follow laws, then.”

Tommy didn’t dare ask what that meant.

Fortunately, a distraction soon appeared in the form of the cage being set down on the table, followed by one of the sides being removed. He quickly jumped out once there was enough room for him to move, stumbling a bit over the lip of the cage before he straightened himself out.

He ignored the amused snort he heard from beside him, not at all looking at Techno, and instead chose to bask in the sensation of finally being indoors, even if he was still freezing. Tommy shuddered as he wrapped his arms around himself, doing his best to heat up after being exposed to the cold for however long he had been stuck outside. The roaring fireplace definitely helped to chase away some of the chill, and he found his eyes lingering on the large pot that had been added to the fireplace. The air smelled… nice, and it looked like Techno had decided to make soup for himself.

Strange, since he swore the hybrid’s diet consisted of nothing but steak and the occasional, weird sparkly apple.

God, he’d been dying to bite into one of those and see what they tasted like…

He jumped in surprise as Techno placed a small, obviously handmade, wooden bowl filled with soup on the table. Curious, he slowly walked over and checked it out. It was still a bit too large for him to use, he’d probably drown himself if he tried to drink straight from it, but it was definitely much more manageable for him to use.

“Is… is that for me?”

The hybrid just nodded as he got himself his own bowl of soup. As such, he was unaware of how Tommy’s jaw dropped in pure shock, as he carefully traced the side of the bowl. The guy who’d spent the last twenty four hours tormenting him had made something for him, made something that would make his life easier!

He hadn’t been given any cutlery when he’d been kicked out of Borrowton, all he had were some basic tools and rations of food. The absolute bare necessities. And, instead of letting him suffer and search for something he could use, Techno had made it using his own two hands.

It dawned on him, in some strange, iconic twist of fate that he had unintentionally helped Tommy out more than his own people had. Invested more care into making sure he didn’t just survive, but was also comfortable.

… And not spilling soup all over the place-

Regardless, it was one of the last things he would have ever expected from Techno, and he quietly wondered if the hybrid had been working on the bowl while he had been stuck outside. Was this…

A reward?

Tommy’s breathing hitched and he quickly wiped his eyes before any of the budding tears could fall, idiot, crying over something as stupid as a bowl. By the time he had gotten his emotions under control, Techno had looked over to find him just staring at the bowl, appearing to be doing nothing.

“Did you expect me to spoon feed you or something?” He chuckled, waiting for Tommy to respond. When the borrower said nothing, his smile faded. “Bruh-”

“Don’t look at me like that!” Tommy objected, nearly knocking the bowl over as he turned his attention to Techno. “I’m just surprised! Big, bad, Blade making a bowl, never thought I’d see the day. Guess you’ve got little dainty girl hands for that!”

Techno rolled his eyes as the borrower continued rambling, tuning him out as he went about his supposedly dainty hands, and questions about if he made bird houses in his spare time. Eventually, Tommy got that he was done interacting, and the duo focused on their respective meals, with the borrower burning his tongue in his haste to try the soup.

“Fuck.” He hissed, waving a hand over the bowl to help it cool down as he cringed in pain. After waiting for the burning sensation to fade, as well as checking to see whether the soup had cooled down enough, he carefully tried again.

As he slowly sipped away at his soup, he watched as Techno made his way over to a chair, picking up the book that had been placed on it, as well as putting on his reading glasses. They were surprisingly worn, primarily held together by tape, and just barely managed to stay on the hybrid’s face as he sat down and cracked open the book. He then quickly realized that the book was the one he had gotten from the librarian.

The one about borrowers.

He felt… weird knowing someone was basically researching him, studying up on the supposed myths about his kind, and wondered to himself when he would get interrogated. Would Borrowton be mentioned in that book, or one of the other settlements? Tommy had never visited them, but he knew they were out there.

Knew about the rumours of the secret tracks that had supposedly connected each settlement to one another and was used to ship goods back and forth. He and Tubbo had tried searching for them one day and had only wound up with bruises and a stern scolding from the adult borrowers, telling them it was foolish to believe in made up stories.

But he never listened. Those tracks were there, had to be there. He and Tubbo had spent so many nights dreaming of how they’d get away, racing down the rails in a minecart. The angry yells and shouts fading as they raced off into their newest adventure.

They had planned to find a home using those rails.

And they would, Tommy promised himself as he grit his teeth. They would go on that adventure, they would find a home. He would get back to Tubbo, no matter what. All he needed was to figure out how to get back to Borrowton, and perhaps snag some supplies from Techno when he wasn’t looking.

… Maybe that book would come in handy after all.

Not that he had any hope in hell of stealing it, or even really reading it since the book was considerably larger than him, but it was the only chance he had at figuring out where Borrowton was and how he might get there.

It was ironic, to think he had spent so long dreaming about getting away from that hellhole and then ending up stuck in a situation where he needed to do everything he could to get back.

All in the name of Tubbo, of course.

He’d rather spend the rest of his life stuck with the annoying prick known as Technoblade instead of going back to Borrowton if it weren’t for Tubbo.  

… He did need a proper plan, though. He had to survive, figure out how to escape the hellish tundra he was in, get supplies for his journey which would probably last several days, and figure out what path he needed to take to reach Borrowton. Plus he’d need to figure out how to sneak in and find Tubbo, too.

So many things… did he even have a chance at completing them all? He could easily freeze to death in the snow, get mauled by some monster, starve, get lost and never reach his destination-

Don’t think about it.

He let out a sigh and placed the bowl down, distantly noticing he had finished his soup. It was nice, tasted like potatoes and something else. Unconsciously, he started rubbing his thumb against the smooth rim of the wooden bowl. All in all, being exiled wasn’t nearly as bad as he thought it was going to be, aside from him missing Tubbo of course. Techno was a bastard, a prick through and through, but he was surprisingly…

Nice wasn’t the word. Less cruel than he thought he would be? He thought back to the discussion with that nerdy librarian and let out a snort. Borrowers and hybrids working together, living together, sounded like a load of crap.

… Even if he was technically doing that just now.

But it wasn’t like there was some mystical force making them act all soft! Like… like they were best friends or something! He and Techno weren’t buddies or allies, they were just stuck together until either Techno got tired of him and kicked him out, or he left.

Nothing more, nothing less.

With both his meal and mental contemplation finished, he stood up and made his way over to the edge of the table, attaching his grappling hook to the end and throwing the rope over the side. He didn’t bother to check on what Techno was doing as he slid down, bowl carefully pinned between his arm and his body, and felt no need to tell the hybrid he was leaving. The last thing he wanted was to piss him off or something.

As he made his way over to the hole in the floor that would lead to his home, he was unaware of the contemplative, glowing red eyes that followed him. Nor did he see how those eyes narrowed as they landed on the bowl he was still carrying.

The next day, Tommy jolted awake as the sound of knocking reverberated through the hollow he lived in. He yelped in surprise and promptly tumbled out of his makeshift bed, a pile of wool and other fabric he had managed to steal from Techno. For a moment he stayed on the floor, looking up at the carved ceiling as he contemplated whether it was worth it to get up or not.

The more trust you gain, the more you can get away with. Work. Take what you can. Find a way back to Tubbo-

Yup, that was enough motivation to get him moving.

Slowly, he pushed himself upright and got ready for whatever Techno had planned for the day. Since it was morning he doubted he’d be acting as bait again, nor did he think he would have to deal with any mobs. Perhaps he would get a chance to relax?

Maybe he might be able to scope out some of the more valuable items Techno had that could help him since he didn’t have to worry about sneaking around as much. Or he could always try and check that book out and see if he could actually move the pages enough to read it.

But before he could even consider doing that, he had to figure out what Techno wanted from him.

It didn’t take long for him to finish freshening up, and soon enough he was quickly making his way back through the tunnels towards one of the few exits he had made. Fortunately, the section of the tunnel that Techno had damaged had been replaced.

Of course, the hybrid had left it up to Tommy to actually carve out the replacement tunnel, which left the whole system feeling pretty disconnected since the walls no longer lined up.

The prick.

Eventually he made his way out of the tunnel, climbed out of the hole in the floor, and walked out into the open. Instinctively he shuddered, hating how exposed he felt. This feeling only increased as he felt the ground shake with each of Techno’s steps. In no time at all, he found himself in the hybrid’s shadow once more, reminded of just how vulnerable he was.

He hated it, hated it so damn much, but he did his best to swallow his fears and not retreat back into the comforting shadows of the shelf.

“So, what’s the plan for today, big man?” Tommy asked, rocking back and forth in place as he stared up, and up, and up, at the hybrid. Damn Techno and his stupid tallness, making his neck hurt with how far up he had to look.

He let out a startled yelp when he was picked up, the back of his shirt pinched yet again as he was moved from the ground and carried over to the crafting table. It took all of his willpower to stop himself from struggling, lest he was dropped, and he felt no small amount of relief when he was put down.

“The fuck was that for?!”

“I didn’t feel like watching you fumble with a rope.”

“Fumble?” Tommy scoffed and flexed his arms. “There ain’t no fumblin’ with manly muscles like these-”

“Are they just for show or do you actually know how to use them, then?”

Well that question definitely caught him off guard. The borrower paused, momentarily uncertain as to how to respond, before he that cocky smile appeared on his face once again. “I’ve won plenty of fights with these bad boys-”

“Great.” He didn’t miss the way Techno rolled his eyes, nor did he miss the heavy sarcasm that laced his voice. “Try this out.”

The item that the hybrid nudged over was… surprising to say the least.

“It’s… a stick.” Tommy blinked as he picked the stick up and looked it over. It was a bit longer than the length of his forearm, and if it weren’t for the lack of a sharpened end he would have assumed it was just a toothpick. “You gave me a stick.”

“It’s for practice, I’m not gonna give you a sharpened one and watch you trip and stab yourself with it.”

“I wouldn’t-practice?” All the anger Tommy felt at the implication of being a clutz, which he absolutely was not, evaporated as what Techno was saying registered. “For what?!”

“Self defense.” Techno shrugged. Upon taking note of the aghast expression on Tommy’s face, he elaborated further. “Not everyone you meet is gonna be as nice as me.”

Especially if I need you to spy on L’Manberg.

“Yeah, like you’re just the shining beacon of goodness.” Tommy scoffed while rolling his eyes.

“Beacon? Paragon has more impact to it. You really need to work on that lexicon of yours, kid-”

“And there you go makin’ up words again! Paragon! Lexicon! What’s the next word you’re gonna make up? Ontological?”

“... Tommy, that is a word.”

“Your mum’s a word, and that word is bitch!”  

“Are you going to keep throwing a tantrum over the tiny dictionary you call a brain, or are you actually going to listen to me?”

Tommy grumbled and kicked at the ground before sighing and looking up at the hybrid. It was time for him to pay attention, no matter how reluctant he was about this whole practicing thing.  “Yeah, so what should I practice, huh?”

“Stabbing me.”

A burst of high pitched, somewhat hysterical laughter escaped the borrower upon hearing Techno’s deadpan response. He slapped a hand over his mouth as he struggled to control his response, not wanting to piss him off further.

What a weird day this was turning out to be.

“You want me… to poke your hand? What the fuck, man.”

“Are you planning on just asking questions or are you going to use those manly muscles of yours?” The narrowing of Techno’s eyes combined with the immense amount of sass in that question told Tommy that his patience was running thin. The borrower quickly nodded and took a step forward.

As the hybrid’s hand stretched out in front of him, fingers uncurling and palm facing upwards, Tommy quietly realized this was the best look at Techno he had ever gotten. Previously, he had only ever really processed snapshots of the hybrid. The long braid, the glowing eyes, the sharp tusks that seemed to shine in the light, everything had only ever been pieces and not the whole.

But now here he was, and his situation felt far more real than it had before.

He could feel the heat radiating off Techno, the natural warmth his body produced reminding Tommy of the furnace he would huddle next to with Tubbo when the weather grew too cold. He could see the scars that littered the hand in front of him, and the callouses that covered the palm and fingers. He could also see the nails, dark in colouration and dangerously sharp, that tipped each digit.

He had been wrong about Techno having dainty hands, and for some reason this realization only made his appreciation for the gift he had been given grow stronger. It was so easy to imagine the hybrid hunched over with a tiny block of wood held in his hands, struggling to carve it and muttering curses when it accidentally broke. How long had he spent working on it-

“Tommy.”

Shit, he’d zoned out.

He could practically feel Techno’s eyes narrowing in disgruntlement, and he immediately looked up and threw his hands into the air in exasperation, nearly conking himself on the head with the stick in the process. “Don’t give me that look! It’s all so… so weird!”

Weird to be doing this! To be so close to someone who could kill me! It’s all wrong!

And yet, it felt right in its own way. The weight of the makeshift weapon in his hands, and the part of him that longed for some shield to hold up. Tommy had always been a fighter, using dirty tricks to get out of dangerous situations while quite literally throwing hands with anyone who threatened him or Tubbo, but this was another kind of fighting entirely.

A style that felt both familiar and alien at the same time.

The hybrid, choosing to not engage with the turmoil visible on the borrower’s face, decided switch tactics. Demonstrations would happen later when he was more settled and less likely to break down in borderline hysterical laughter, the time for basics was now.

For the next several minutes, Techno explained where it was best to attack in order to do the most damage and even disable his opponent for a short period of time. He was… strangely calm, and knowledgeable as he pointed out which parts of his hand were softer than the rest, more vulnerable.

It was unexpected, and Tommy could only ask himself one question.

Why?

Of course, he got no answer, not that he had ever asked the question to begin with. Rather, he just threw himself into practicing the maneuvers he had been shown over and over again, quietly thinking about how helpful they might be.

Tubbo, he might have to fight to get to Tubbo, and if practicing whatever Technoblade taught him would help, he’d do it.

Meanwhile, the hybrid silently studied the borrower as he thought about all that he had learned so far, from the book to his general observations of the kid. There was obviously something else going on with him, from the way he randomly spaced out at times, to that determined look that would sometimes appear on his face. Anger would occasionally appear, too. A kind of anger that Techno was intimately familiar with.

Tommy was expressive, too expressive.

At least that made things easier for him, but it also left him with far more questions than answers. Questions he didn’t really want to ask, but was still curious about.

It was obvious that the borrower had lived somewhere else before he had decided to invade his cabin. According to the book, most borrowers either stuck to a house they stayed in for their entire lives unless they were forced to move, or lived in community settlements. There were also the “wild” ones, but Tommy’s clear lack of any self-preservation instincts made it clear he did not fit in that category, and yet both of the remaining options made little sense as well.

There were no nearby houses nearby that he could have previously lived in, he doubted the kid would have been living in the village without the librarian’s knowledge, and a tundra biome was one of the last places he would expect to encounter a settle of tiny people. So, what had happened that wound up with him being out here in the first place? And why did he care so much?

Ah, the greatest question of all.

Why?

Why was he putting so much effort into this obnoxious kid? Sure he had his reasons, but were those reasons enough to justify the work he was going to have to do. Why had he let Tommy stay instead of throwing him out like he would have done to anyone else, aside from Phil.

Why had he gotten so protective of the kid at the library? It didn’t make sense-

“Look Techno!”

Tommy’s shout snapped Techno out of his thoughts, and the hybrid looked over to see that he was now holding one of the other practice sticks. He grinned and enthusiastically waved them.

“I’ve got two sticks!”

He raised a brow as the borrower started hitting some made up enemy, swinging the sticks through the air and letting out noises that he probably thought were intimidating, but only made Techno quietly laugh to himself. His laughter grew louder when, during one of his more enthusiastic swings, Tommy ended up smacking himself in the face.

“You’re supposed to hit other people with those.”

“Oh fuck off!”

Hours later, Tommy let out a groan as he flopped into his makeshift bed, burying his face into one of the pieces of fabric. The cloth was cool and soft, and he let out a happy little sigh as it helped him cool down. His muscles ached, and he wanted nothing more than to pass out for the next couple days, but his mind was abuzz with thoughts.

Techno was teaching him how to fight and was apparently making him armor. It sounded like such a horrible idea, teaching the person who was practically a pest in your house how to fight back, and it made Tommy wonder why.

Why was he being taught how to fight? Why was he being given weapons and armor? Was there something he needed to keep himself safe from? Someone?

“It’s a good thing I don’t follow laws, then.”

The hybrid’s “retirement”. The amount of weapons and armor Tommy had seen. The potions.

Was… was Techno a criminal? Had he unintentionally put himself in more danger by choosing to stay here? He knew nothing about him other than his dry sense of humour, his aloof personality, and how intimidating he was.

Dammit, this is why he needed Tubbo. Tubbo would have warned him about the possible dangers, discouraged his ideas, and brought reason to his chaotic thoughts.

It was at this moment that Tommy also realized that among the training and sparse breaks, he hadn’t been able to check out the book either.

Fuck.

                                   xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ah yes, the slow development from “you’re a pain in my ass and I’m only putting up with you for personal gain” to “okay, you might be decent”.

Also, there are many things I'm gonna make Tommy kind of cry over. A bowl of soup is just one of the more out there instances XD

[magiaesabiduria]

what’s the biggest pet peeve you have in regards to tumblr?

what’s one fandom you refuse to get involved with and why?

what’s the hardest character type to interact with?

what’s the best part about being in the rpc on tumblr?

what’s the biggest problem in the rpc?

GIVE ME THE TEA 🖤

Pet peeve: cancel culture can suck my dick. I’m not talking about people who voice genuine concerns about racism/sexism/etc. or people who voice their own personal boundaries. I am talking about the fuckers who get mad when I use phrases like “suck my dick” or when I decide to write a genderbent version of a chara. I’m taking about the Karens who think anything that MAKES THEM UNCOMFORTABLE TO SPEAK ABOUT should be banned. I’m talking about the mfs who think “I don’t see race” is how you deal with racism. The people who PRETEND TO CARE because they think it’s what’s right. The people who call themselves an ally then ask why there is no ally pride flag.

Banned fandoms: I don’t know that I have any. I mean I’m hesitant to get into the DC and Marvel fandoms bc in my experience they haven’t been as welcoming so I always get anxious trying to talk to them.

Difficult chara types to interact with: narcissistic charas (I’m talking full on manipulative types) because they trigger me (and a lot of the time my muses too). A bitch had enough of that growing up, thanks v much.

Best part of the rpc: my bubble of friends on here lol. We’re a real community and knowing I can randomly comment on most any of my mutuals’ hc posts or ooc posts and we can start a full convo or swap to dms to discuss or even just get a smile out of them and knowing they will do the same if the roles were reversed… that’s great.

Biggest problem in rpc: cancel culture seeping into here too. “You write a villain you must be a terrible person” “you write a genderbent chara you must be transphobic” so basically the amount of anon hate people still send because they are bored with their lives and want to pass their misery onto others

[horrorslashergirl]

Chromeskull blackmailing the reader after he sees her kill her abusive father. Her father use to let Jesse use his funeral parlor and such so now the reader has to as well It's tense at first but Jesse ends up gaining feelings for and readers unsure what she feels about him until he saves her life from home invader. Sorry for the word vomit. 😊

Not exactly what you wanted, but I hope it turned out right at last 50%

Chromeskull x Reader- Farewell Job

There were a few things that Jesse Cromeans disliked, down from having his car scratched to a wrinkled suit, the most were when someone was in debt to him and the fucker had the audacity to play dumb and not answer his texts, especially the threatening ones. Normally, he would let his co-workers deal with such insignificant concerns, but none ignored Jesse Chromeskull Cromeans and got away without at last a broken wrist.

That's why he was driving at midnight full-on speed down the road to the funeral house where the old geezer was doing his business, and where Jesse sometimes decapitated his piggies. He couldn't wait to sink his knife into the man's back, maybe skin his legs off? He will have time to think about it once he has him bound to a chair begging for his life.

After one hour of speeding down and ignoring red lights, he managed to get to the said funeral house, parking the Bentley as the engine's sound died down into the silence of the night. Getting out of the car, he put on the chromed skull mask, smirking at the familiar coldness of it. He took the silver suitcase and waltzed to the front entrance which was surprisingly open.

No wonder...The disgusting bastard had a habit of drinking and always forgot to lock it. Not the first time.

Jesse expected to see the old scumbag passed down on a chair or better yet on the floor, blackout drunk, but imagine the surprised behind the silver mask when he saw the man on the floor with his head bashed in, brains spilling out.

Well, that is surely unexpected.

The old and rusty skin close by with pieces of the brain was probably the primary weapon.

Someone got here first.

Jesse took one step towards the corpse and he heard a door open and felt something sharp slash the black material of his coat along with a slightly deep wound of his biceps.

Brown eye locked on a feral face twisted into a deadly scowl that promised murder. The culprit was a female, young, and was ready to aim another hit, but Jesse was quicker and he knocked what looked like a scalpel from the tiny hand. His hand fisted her shirt and slammed her against the wall, pinning her there.

Despite the position she was in, no fear was in her eyes that were bloodshot, probably from lack of sleep. She was still snarling like she wanted to bite his head off.

"Let me go or I will cut your balls off!" You screamed at him, nails digging into the sleeves of his coat, trying to inflict some type of pain.

Jesse waisted little no time and after some struggling and an almost painful hit to his manhood, he had you bound to a chair, glaring at him with acidic eyes.

For someone so small you sure were a feisty one. He smirked behind the mask at your immobilized form. He couldn't recall the last time he was faced with such a dangerous piggy.

His usual piggies were always begging, pleading for their lives, or just running away, but fighting back was a low occurrence. To say the least, he was impressed, not many had hurt him and you did it so well, the stinging in his biceps hurt like a bitch, but Jesse was used to being stabbed and shot, all the tattoos of covering up his scars were proof to that.

He was looming over you, debating what he should do. He was so tempted to rip your jaw off, but that wasn't the primary reason why he was here. He needed some information because the fucker that was in debt to him was dead.

Jesse pulled out his phone and quickly typed in.

'Who are you, piggy?'

You arched an eyebrow at the tall man.

"Why should I answer you?"

WITTY PIGGY.

'Because I can do worse than what happened to that corpse over there.'

"The fucker had it coming." You found yourself muttering under your breath.

That piqued Jesse's interest. You seemed to speak with venom when mentioned about the old male.

'Related?'

"Father....But why the fuck do you even care?!" Your aggressive demeanor quickly came back and Jesse had to admit the way your brows were furrowing and eyes blazing with fury were kind of cute.

'Because your DEAR father owns me a lot of money.'

"Not my fucking problem." You snarled and in the dim light, Jesse could see the old purple bruises around your left eye, along with deep fingerprints on your neck.

Not done by him. It didn't take a genius to figure out what your father did to you. No wonder you were like a tiger that came out of a circus cage, ready to destroy everything in your path.

'I must admit, you put on a good show. I'm impressed.'

"Flattery won't get you anywhere, jerk." You snorted.

Jesse licked his lips behind the mask, so tempted to use that mouth of yours for other things that cursing him out.

Yes, killing you won't get him any benefice, although he was tempted to cut your tongue off.

'You own me.'

You spat on his silver mask, making his chest rumble like he was ready to pounce you, but Jesse composed himself.

"I don't own you shit." You muttered in a murderous tone and if Jesse could talk he sure would laugh.

'You have no idea in what deepness you are, little girl.'

You internally groaned at the use of his words, always been treated like you were some hopeless child that couldn't stand up for themselves.

Well, tonight you proved everyone wrong by your masterpiece a few feet away from you two.

"Care to enlighten me why?" you asked, curious about what he was implying.

The skull masked man's broad shoulders moved up and down, silently chuckling at your blind eyes of what was happening. He began to type, this time taking a little longer.

'Tell me if I am wrong, but you just killed someone and you will most likely go to jail, despite that you will say that it was in pure defense. Judges these days aren't so merciful, doll. You wouldn't want to rot between four walls of concrete, would you now?'

You swallowed down at the electronic voice, nibbling on your lower lip in thought. As much as you hated it, he was right and by your expression, his body language spoke of satisfaction.

Egocentric jerk.

Here goes the typing again.

'But I am willing to make you a sweet deal that will assure you freedom. Your father owned me cash that you couldn't make even if you sucked on old men cocks all your life.'

You felt disgusted and if your hands were free you would have shown that phone down the man's throat.

"You're saying that...."

'Work for me and you will be safe.'

"Doesn't sound like freedom to me."

'Better than jail, no?'

Winning asshole.

----------------------------------

Your opinion on Jesse Cromeans was that he was a man which you would love go gauge his remaining brown eye out, that was the first month, but in time you learned to live with him being your 'boss'.

Nothing screamed dream job than cleaning the mess after the killings of your boss.

If you looked that over you could say that your life was at last perfect. He always made sure you had everything you needed and you couldn't be happier; down from expensive clothing to delicious rich food, you were spoiled, so different from your past life.

You were currently scrubbing down the tiles of a bathroom after a 'piggy' as your boss liked to call them had her guts spilled out. You whipped the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand, then you heard footsteps approach.

When you turned around you were meet with the scarred face of Jesse, the black eyepatch covering the empty socket of his eye, the remaining brown one observing your work.

'You get better and better.' he signed.

The first thing that Jesse did when you agreed to work for him was to take you to ASL lessons because typing over again on his phone was irritating.

"I take that was a compliment." you muttered, throwing the rags into a black bag to be burned.

'Are you free tonight?' he signed.

"Another murder scene that needs to be cleaned?" you asked, disposing of your gloves.

Jesse chuckled silently and stepped to your form, taking your chin between his fingers, your eyes moving from his face to his full inked forearms. His hand left your chin to sign.

'No. Dinner tonight. I've got you a nice dress and shoes.' he signed, making you look at him dumbfounded.

"B-But you're my boss and-" you tried to reason, but a finger pressed to your lips.

You wanted to yell at him that this was forbidden, not to mention the age gap between the two of you.

'Taboo? You know I am notorious for being a nonconformist.' he signed with a smug smirk.

You rolled your eyes and stepped away from him, exiting the warehouse and walking outside.

"You are contemptible." you mused and Jesse followed after you.

'So? Tonight? At 7?' he insisted, ignoring your insults.

You couldn't deny that it was tempting. He wasn't like any other man, always sybaritic, fast-living, and exorbitant luxurious vibes.

You could swear that he was the perfect incarnation of pride, not that you minded, because it was attractive, just like the forbidden fruit. You knew how poisonous he was, but the sweetest taste was mind-blowing.

"Do I have to wear heels?" you asked, making him grin, his arms wrapping around your waist, a squeak leaving your lips at the sudden touch.

His expression spoke more: 'What do you think?'

You groaned, resting your forehead against his chest.

"You own me big time for this."

[arthurjdrake]

Water Works : Notia & Arthur

TIMING: Present LOCATION: Drake Residence  PARTIES: @arthurjdrake and @humanmoodring SUMMARY: Notia needs tears and she’ll go to any lengths to get them. TW: Injury / Violence

The ride to Arthur’s wasn’t exactly comfortable, and Nadia ended up getting lost a bit along the way. Sue her, she’d only been there once, to go to a party full of people she didn’t know and didn’t care to, not really. She hadn’t meant to to tell the man that she didn’t exactly care to stick around town for much longer, but, hey, she could tell him she wanted to take a business trip and hope for the fucking best. She’d tell him anything he wanted to hear as long as he gave her some phoenix tears. She’d have to shmooze him for a bit, win him over again and promise to be a good little research assistant or whatever it was that Nadia did. She’d get the tears, sell a bottle or two, and be on her merry way, not looking back on the shitstain that was this town and everything that it had to offer. Every nosy medium and hunter and witch and banshee, every overly concerned zombie, could kiss her ass. She didn’t want to deal with them and their desires to take what was hers away from her. But she couldn’t show that, could she? Instead, Nadia put on a smile and hopped off her bike, stuffing her hands into her jacket pockets and walking over to Arthur’s door. She gave it a knock and waited, hoping this wouldn’t last too long.

For once the house was absent of noise, save the soft whir of the fan oven as Arthur slouched on one of the countertops staring absentmindedly out the kitchen window. His phone lay open on the countertop, Nadia’s message left on read. A sticking point on which his focus was intently hooked. She needed to get out of town? It was strange. Ever since he’d first met her Nadia had seemed so keen to take up the job he’d offered her, eager to get a new start in a position that asked no questions. Which after hearing the horrific tale of everything that she had been through in her relatively short time on this earth was understandable. In a way partly influencing the reason why Arthur had continued to pay her position despite the time she’d taken for personal matters. They were on good terms but sometimes there were boundaries that needed to be respected. But leaving? Leaving the only place that might be able to provide a solution and modicum of safety to her? It didn’t make sense. Pulling his phone off the counter he peered at the message again, attempting to read between the lines to understand what would make Nadia bolt to this degree without asking for some kind of help. He was broken from his musings by the echo of the bell and quickly hurried to get the door. “Hey! Gees it’s been so long!” he greeted opening his arms and stepping out to wrap Nadia up in a warm and tight hug.

Of fucking course the bird man was a hugger. Nadia couldn’t help the way she tensed up as he grabbed her, his too warm body far too close for far too long. Fuck, the man was a desert. She’d thought she left that kind of heat behind in Arizona. She hadn’t expected to lose control of her body and watch as her host made friends with a literal fucking phoenix. She’d just have to deal with it. Plastering on a gentle, easy smile, she said, “Arthur! God, it really has been. Since your birthday.” Surrounded by people she didn’t know and could only hope didn’t know Nadia that well, it had been one of the more anxiety-inducing times here in White Crest. She hated intimate get-togethers. “I’m so sorry, I’ve been meaning to get in touch. I’ve just had a rough time of it, recently.” She flinched a bit, sighed. “I got kicked out of my apartment a few months ago, and it’s been a bitch finding a new place and I’m just... “ she ran a hand through her hair, a bit of genuine frustration showing through. “...tired.” She laughed self-deprecatingly, shaking her head. “But you! How have you been?” What had he and Nadia been working on, again? Nerdy school stuff, probably. “How’s the semester gone for you?”

Nadia tensed as she was pulled in, strange, on all the other occasions that he’d given her hugs she’d always reciprocated with appreciation and a joking remark of his space-heater nature being a reminder of home. So Arthur had made a mental note to always do his best to make her feel welcomed and comforted. “Uhuh, a long while back that- too long” he stepped back, but his attention lingered on her features head cocking ever so slightly as though trying to decipher something that just didn’t sit right. But he couldn’t pinpoint it and shook the feeling away for now, reading too much into it probably. “Rough time of it?” he echoed as he wandered down the corridor assuming she would follow while the empathetic nature of his concern quickly overtook any doubt for the time being though. “Kicked out of your apartment? The hell Nadia?” the words were a little incredulous stopping and turning back to her just inside the kitchen, more irritated by the thought of someone having the audacity to do something of the sort to a person he cared about “why didn’t you… You could’ve come to stay here. You know you’re always welcome. Granted… Things are a bit arctic right now...” The uncertainty about just what was going on lingered, it had been a week or that he’d first noticed the instance that he was sucking the very heat out of every room he walked into. It was fine for him, but it had left the house in a practically arctic state. “What the hell’s been going on?”

“Way too long,” Nadia said, giving the man a smile, though she didn’t necessarily mean it. She knew she had to keep up appearances, though, knew that he was observing her, sizing her up, though that wasn’t the right word for it. People didn’t size Nadia Diaz up because they just didn’t perceive her as a threat. She was a decent person, a weak person. He was simply trying to figure her out. And she couldn’t let him. “Yeah, just… things kind of, like, suck.” Nadia laughed and rubbed at the back of her neck, those kinds of self-deprecating actions that Nadia was known for. She just needed to act like Nadia long enough to get some tears, get this guy off her back, and then she could start planning a way out of town, out of this life. Start over in a new place where no one knew who the hell Nadia Diaz was. “I, fuck. I had a disagreement with some of my neighbors.” As in, she wanted them dead, and they disagreed. “They’d been living there longer, so of fucking course it didn’t matter who was right and who was wrong. I ended up getting kicked out.” She flinched a bit, wanting to lash out against his tone but knowing that was the wrong fucking move. He didn’t feel mad, just shocked, the spike of it working its way through her system in a way that she figured she could still make it out of this. “I know, Arthur, I know, but you’ve already done so much, and I just-- I didn’t want to bother you.” She smiled at him slightly. “It’s really not that bad, in here.” Truthfully, she hadn’t noticed the cold. She kind of always felt cold, liked feeling cold. It was better than his overwhelming heat. She sighed. “A lot. I don’t know. I don’t feel safe in this town anymore. I just want to get out. Not for-- Just for a bit, you know? Just a bit.”

More often than not Arthur found himself studying the people around him, sometimes unintentionally other times quite deliberately; an attempt to decipher ulterior motives or passive deceptions. The reasoning and understanding as to why often only came with an episode of hindsight, the realisation of just what set him into this strangely rational state of being. “Oh gees, in that case you need to tell me everything that’s been going on hm? Maybe we can see about making some amends… come, come” he waved her in encouragingly and set about moving some cups onto the counter and pouring out the hot-chocolate that had been simmering on the stove. His expression one of concern at the mention of disagreements. “You live near Regan don’t you? But what happened? Surely it can’t be bad enough to warrant getting evicted.” That didn’t make sense. Pushing the mug across the counter he returned to the oven and pulled out the tray setting the cookies to cool on the airing rack while he worked. “ Nadia,” there was a long and slightly drawn out sigh while he pushed his glasses up his nose with the tip of his thumb and leaned on the counter. “How many times do I have to tell you, you’d never bother me. Ever.” His eyes narrowed a fraction, the dark grey clouding in his eyes as he looked at her intently for a long moment. “You can’t keep running away from whatever’s bothering you. Now, how about you tell me about whatever’s going on. What’s got you so spooked?”

“It’s--” Nadia cut herself off, running a hand through her hair. “Where to even begin, you know?” She laughed and followed after Arthur, wrapping her arms tight around her. She didn’t want to sit down and drink hot chocolate and play act with this phoenix who didn’t really know shit at all. She just wanted to get some tears and be on her way, Maybe she could give him a sob story, and he’d cry. That’d be really fucking nice, wouldn’t it? She took the hot chocolate and wrapped her hands around it. “Yeah, yeah. Did. I just got into it with the landlord. You know how rent is. I felt like I was getting jipped, and I was, the fucker. So I packed up, moved somewhere nicer. Got a chill roommate. It’s all good, now.” She raised her mug to him in a salute and took a drink. The liquid burned on the way down. “I know, I know, but… I’ve just been trying to, like, find myself, these last few months. It’s been hard.” What was she running from? Nothing. Everything. A buncha charges and a buncha people that wanted her gone, vanished, destroyed. All so that some little bitch that had rolled over without fighting until it was far too late could have back a life that Nadia had made. No, thank you. Not gonna happen. “There are people here,” she said quietly. “People that knew the ghost that possessed me. People that want me to do things I’m just not fucking comfortable with, and-- and I just-- I don’t want to be that person. I can’t be her, don’t want to be the person that she was. I want my own fucking life.”

“Really?” for some reason Arthur found that hard to believe, considering the amount of incidents that had happened at that building, if anything the landlord seemed like a pretty fair guy by all accounts. “You know that’s weird - he seemed pretty forgiving considering the amount of glass incidents that I heard happened while other residents were there.” His head tilted a little, tightening his hands a fraction around the mug as he levelled her with a flat and searching look. Not the first that had come tonight because something about the weight of the conversation didn’t flow in the way they normally spoke. “Right, but those ghosts aren’t here are they? I mean they got exorcised you told me the story yourself and you’ve got all the protection you’d ever need to stop that from happening again. Heck, we’ve got enough people in this town that could keep you safe from that… Who are these people? What are they asking you to do?”

“Yes, really,” Nadia said, her eyes hard as steel. She could feel him doubting her, and she could tell this situation wasn’t going the way she wanted. She could still try to turn it around. She knew she could. She at least had to try. “Honestly, I’m just as surprised as you are. Thought he was a pretty cool dude until he spiked up my rent for no fucking reason. I wasn’t the one breaking all the glass. But, hey, it’s over now. I’m getting settled in somewhere else.” She smiled at him, despite his intense stare, with that easy, self-deprecating Nadia Diaz grin that she’d perfected over the years. The only thing that gave away her frustration was the slightest flickering of the lights. “Huh, that’s weird.” She wished she had a better handle on that shit, especially when she was trying to shmooze people, but what could a girl do? “They never got rid of them, not properly,” she said quietly, wrapping her hands around her mug and making herself small. “And I’m not safe, not here.” She made her eyes panicked. “They’re criminals, Arthur, and I’m not putting anyone else at risk because of me.” There. That was a pretty Nadia statement. “I just-- I’m so tired. I’m tired of what they want me to do. I’m tired of always looking over my shoulder. I’m fucking exhausted. I just need to get away.”

“That doesn’t really make any sense… And I mean you’re right, if you weren’t the one behind the glass and you were covering the cost of fixing it anyway then really he wouldn’t have any ground to stand on.” Nadia of all people was hardly a disruptive renter, it didn’t really track that Nadia had gotten herself kicked out of her apartment over something that was definitely not her fault. It wasn’t impossible, but the story didn’t entirely add up. Arthur looked at her, and the steeliness in her gaze struck him as strange. Nadia never typically looked at anything with such an intense level of seemingly calculated determination. Yet as he was about to ask another question, the lights flickered and his eyes tracked up quickly. “Uh… yeah.” Considering he’d changed those lightbulbs the week prior they definitely shouldn’t be on the way out. He tried to keep the level of his voice neutral, but even years of experience couldn’t entirely maintain his decorum. “You aren’t putting anyone at risk of doing anything they aren’t willing to do themselves, Nadia, you can’t control the decisions of every person in your life.” As much as it would have made life so much easier, that simply wasn’t how things went. “What do they want you to do?” Maybe then this sudden skittishness would make more sense. “How though? Tell me how running is going to help though? What’s to stop these people finding you somewhere that there aren’t people that in all honesty are pretty well equipped to keep you safe.” If anything despite the lurking dangers, there was more benefit to staying.

“It’s human nature, Arthur. Sometimes things don’t make sense.” Nadia raised an eyebrow at the man, wishing he’d just fucking let this drop. He was pushing her, and she hated being pushed. She watched him, getting as much of a read off of him as she could. He seemed unnerved. Good. Maybe this would stop him from digging too deep. She couldn’t even pull from Nadia anymore, something that was wonderful when she was working but was an absolute bitch when she was trying to deal with Nadia’s supposed friends. She sighed, looking away and biting her lip. “I know, but people shouldn’t have to do that. Not for me.” There, that was very Nadia Diaz of her. Devaluing herself was practically the little empath’s trademark. She’d get herself killed if it meant someone else didn’t have to get hurt. “I’ve-- I’ve had to start committing crime. Small robberies. Shit like that. And I don’t want to, but they’re-- they’ll rat me out to the-- I don’t want to go to jail, but they’ll turn me in if I don’t.” She sniffled a bit. “Sorry. It’s just… If I run, they’ll have a harder time finding me. White Crest just isn’t safe for me. Not with that ghost still hanging around. Not with these people breathing down my back.” Not with everyone wanting to bring Nadia back.

“Sometimes no, but when you’ve lived as long as I have you can often get a gauge on how a person’s going to act based on interacting with them.” So that didn’t entirely track, nor did Nadia’s current attitude towards the topic. “Bullshit,” Arthur interrupted without warning his frown deepening “that’s bullshit and you should know by now that’s now how this works. You don’t call the shots on what someone else wants or is going to do for you, you know why?” There was an ironclad sternness in his voice, “it’s because you’re deserving of people that give a shit about you. People might’ve let you down before - you’ve been through hell and come out the other side of it but this time you aren’t alone. So no more, no more saying people shouldn’t. They can and they will because you deserve people that care enough to step out and call time on the shit that you’re being put through.” His mind was turning over the information, processing and trying to come up with a plan that they could put into action. “Then we find evidence that you’re being blackmailed, there are plenty of people on the force who are in the know. Heck I even know an FBI agent that’s catching up on the run of this town… The law can work for you Nadia - there’s no need to run. A ghost is definitely something that we can handle.”

Nadia gritted her teeth so hard that her jaw hurt, and the lights flickered again. She took a deep breath in, let it out, and turned to Arthur, her face devoid of emotion. “Do you know what’s bullshit? This conversation. I’m not in the mood to play pretend anymore.” She stood up, leaving her mug. “I do call the shots, and I’m done here. Sorry, prof. But I don’t have time for this.” Even if he had tears, those fucking tears that she needed desperately. She almost wanted to stop, to backtrack and make try to get some of them out of him again, but she couldn’t keep this up. She’d admit it: she was losing her Nadia Diaz touch. Maybe it wasn’t a bad thing. Time for a reinvention, anyways. Nadia Diaz was a ghost, unimportant and useless. She didn’t matter. She laughed at him, though. “You’re funny. People ‘help,’” she made air quotes, “because they’re nosy, or because they want to make themselves look good. It’s not because they care. Not when there’s nothing worth caring about.” She started walking away. “The law is useless, but it’s fairly easy to evade, I won’t lie. I don’t want them to work for me. Me and the cops, we’ve never exactly seen eye to eye.” She stopped though, all smiles, all teeth as she turned to look at him. “Oh, I think this ghost is far more than you can handle, Professor Drake.”

The change was practically instantaneous and Arthur truly wasn’t sure what to make of it at first. Didn’t Nadia understand that he was just trying to help her see that her best option of getting out of this was staying right where she was. But the words were spoken with such a degree of scorn and intensity that in all honesty, Nadia wasn’t capable of. Not the Nadia he knew. So why was she acting this way? Things were bad but there was always some modicum of hope no matter how dark it might seem. He blinked, mind processing the information and strange behaviour and by the time he realised she was already halfway to the door. He shifted in an instant, hand going for the nearest iron implement on the countertop - a cast iron skillet and he barely noticed the rising warmth in his hand, starting to heat the iron in his grasp “rich talk coming from someone that that clearly doesn’t understand the meaning of caring for another person’s life… Especially her life.” His eyes narrowed at the threatening demeanor she adopted, it was jarring, to see someone you cared a great deal about acting in a way that was so out of character. His fingers tightened on the skillet, half torn between seeing Nadia and having to remind himself that this was some interloper hijacking his friend’s body. He advanced slowly reeling through his options, he didn’t want to hurt her, hell he didn’t want to hurt anyone but if this was for the greater good of getting that spirit out of her… Sometimes you had to suck it up and make the hard choices. “You’re hardly the first ghost I’ve ever had to deal with…” he paused half a metre or so away, studying and assessing her expression hoping to see some kind of recognition. Where his uncertainty lingered before a low burning anger steadied his voice and his hand, half tensed and ready to swing if she made any move he didn’t like. “Is she in there?”

“Oh, you caught me on a bad day,” Nadia said pleasantly, looking at the iron skillet in Arthur’s hands and flexing her fingers, the lights flickering again. “Or maybe a good one. See, I’m feeling a little unhinged.” The temperature in the room, already cold, lowered further still. “This is my life, capisce?” She moved in closer, completely unafraid of this man. He wouldn’t hit her because he wouldn’t hit Nadia. For all his righteous fury, there was still a part of him that was apprehensive, thinking that the young woman that he cared about was still bouncing around inside her, trapped and only a moment away from getting out. She softened her expression, schooled it into something hurt and unsure, taking long blinks and shaking her head. “Arthur?” Her voice came out in a quiver. She was close to him now, and she stumbled towards him, but instead of waiting for him to catch her, she grabbed his hand, felt his fragile bones under her fingers, and twisted his arm. She felt it snap. God, these bird people really do have shitty hollowed bones, don’t they? “You’ve never dealt with someone like me, prof. I can assure you of that.” She grinned at him savagely. “No, she’s not fucking in here. You wanna know where she is? Dead.” She laughed. “Some dumbass children playing at exorcists kicked her right out of her own fucking body. It’smine now, and I’m gonna leave this town, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“Bullshit,” Arthur retorted coldly as he advanced each step slow and calculated in its placement, an attempt to rotate and get himself between her and the door “you have no right to it. Get out, or I will make you.” Mercy wasn’t the only individual that lived under this roof capable of indecent acts. It had been a long time, several lifetimes in fact since a rage as frosty as this set in. It burned cold, under his control in the face of a friend turned foe. But she was also right, doubt lingered like a clinging thorn riding just beneath the flow of his anger.

Because Nadia was still in there. She had to be.

After all, that’s what ghosts did. They suppressed their hosts. Kept them hostage within their own body.

While he stood braced the logical part of his mind reminded him that this could all be an act, it was too fast, seemed too easy. But a moment’s hesitation was all it took. The opening presented itself and she seized it, yanking his arm with horrific force and the quiet kitchen echoed with the resounding snap of bone. An unforgettable, horrible sound accompanied by a cry of pain and debilitating wave of nausea. He stumbled, catching the counter and steadying himself, cradling his twisted arm close adrenaline pumping through his veins as he rounded on her. “That’s not how this goes,” he ground out flatly, she had the advantage of speed, but he had height and weight on his side. Anger fuelled his movement, hefting the skillet back and swinging hard until it connected with a sharp clang followed up by dropping his weight and charging her with the aim of slamming her back into the counter. If he had to incapacitate her at the risk of his own life then so be it. If it meant Nadia could get her life back, well, it was an easy trade to make.

Crying out as the metal connected with her cheek and caused more than just a physical pain to rip through her, Nadia felt something inside her surge, the light bulbs shattering around them. Her hand went up to touch where the skillet connected with her face, and she was completely caught off guard as the weight of him slammed into her. She kicked out against him. “Fuck you!” she snarled. “There’s no one to give the body back to. She’s dead. She’s dead. You make me leave, and this body becomes a corpse without a soul inside of it.” It didn’t matter, in the end, if Nadia Diaz was still hanging around or not. If Nadia left the body, it would die. Probably. She was sure somebody could put it on life support, but bodies didn’t last that long without a consciousness steering it around. Surely this fool knew that much.

“That’s exactly how this goes,” Nadia snarled. “I’m going to walk out of this house, and I’m going to walk out of this town, and there’s not a goddamn thing you can do to stop me.” She looked over to the sink where it was next to her, reached over, and turned the water on. She splashed a bit of it on Arthur to get him off of her, a threat. She’d drown this fucker if she had to. She knew all about how little birds just hated getting wet. With a shove, she said, “I guess this is a bad time to tell you I only came to get some tears, huh?”

“You’re lying,” Arthur hissed as he slammed her into the countertop not caring about the glass that littered the surfaces or the painful throb of his arm. He had one good hand and it was already going for her throat. He had no intent to kill, even if he knew how this was way more important than that he just needed to incapacitate her long enough to try and figure out what the hell the next step was. How they were going to get Nadia back where she belonged. So a choke until she passed out was the most rational option right now. The one thing he couldn’t allow was for her to get out of here. If she did… He didn’t want to even entertain the notion.

His fingers clamped down, squeezing tight against the tension in her neck his teeth gritted as he fought to hold her still. “And even if you’re not, then we’ll just figure out how to get her back. Either way your time’s up.“ But it was easier said than done, and with an arm out of action he couldn’t pin her as effectively as he would’ve liked. The intent was broken momentarily as he felt the scalding pain across his face; the skin blistering red and raw in seconds where the water had come into skin-contact. It wasn’t much and so he battled through the pain, resisting the shove and grimacing as he shoved her back just as hard going once more for the throat. “Fuck you. You’ll get what you deserve… One way or the other… She’s coming back.”

“I’m not,” Nadia snarled, though her words were cut off effectively by the hand wrapped around her throat. The water in the sink splashed about and the electrical appliances started going haywire, and she looked at him with other contempt. Her eyes stung as tears started to stream down them, and she couldn’t catch her breath. Again, she stuck her hand in the water, spots dancing around her eyes as she brought her fist up and punched him hard in the nose. There was no holding back. She would kill him if it meant that she walked out of that door and into freedom. She jerked her knee up, and, with Arthur well and truly distracted, punched him again for good measure. Gasping, she brought a hand to her throat, wiped at her nose a bit. “You think you can do what an exorcist couldn’t? Face it, bird brain, you’re as useless as your hollowed bones in this kinda situation. Just accept defeat.” She shook the remaining drops of water collecting on her fingers onto him and headed for the door. “I’ve already gotten what I deserve, and it’s this.” She shrugged, gave Arthur a shiteating grin. “She’s not. And you’re useless to me. If I see you again, you’re gonna get to see your next life a lot quicker than expected, pal.” She flipped him the bird (enjoy the pun, asshole), and left, still rubbing her sore throat. That was gonna bruise, wasn’t it?

[fmdjaewonarchive]

...i realized today marks exactly three years since i brought jaewon to famed. what the fuck.

(long, rambly ooc post incoming.)

three years,,, that’s such a long time what the fuck????? i most definitely didn’t expect to actually stick around that long. not that i was expecting to dip or whatever but you know, three years, who the hell looks three years into the future when doing anything? i sure as hell don’t. that might also have to do w the fact i’m stupid and haven’t had a singular thought in my life but oh well.

i know i write these stupid posts every year/every half a year so i’m going to try to not repeat myself too much eventhough i always end up doing exactly that. so uhm everyone that has dealt w/ multiple of my aniversary posts at this point pls bear w/ me.

it’s just really weird to think about how long it has been already, like i said, jaewon has been around for three years at this point and yuanjun is hitting the two year mark somewhere next month too. even minah and yena go way back at this point because i wrote minah once before bringing her back for this installment and yena twice so like... they’re all hags at this point.

the other month (? i think, time is fake) i know i tried to summarize to anthony how many muses i’ve exactly had in famed throughout the years and,,, i’m not gonna attempt that again cuz i didn’t even succeed the first time, leave alone that it was chronologically correct (imagine having good autobiographic memory, couldn’t be me) but it’s been a fuckton of muses yeah, take my word for it, there must’ve been between 10-20 of them easily and sure half of them (if not more) were flops but no matter how long or brief they lasted, it still means a lot i got to write and develop them to begin with.

but obviously, jaewon has been my prominent muse, he has a little bit first child syndrome, i will always just be a little more invested in him than i am in my other children (eventhough i do love them a lot). but i try to balance that out by being extra mean to jaewon, it’s just the circle of life. three years in and he’s still having the worst fucking time, hate that for him. but fr, eventhough he’s kinda a whiny bitch and suffers a lot, he has gone through some major character development over the years so,,, good for him ig maybe he’s not entirely awful. that’s as nice as i’m gonna get okay.

but again, like i said, i’ve been loving developing not only jaewon but also my other three current idiots and all those that came before them. even if some only lasted,,, a week at best. (or that one time i submitted an app and then dropped it before the muse was even accepted, kinda iconic of me ig)

i’m not gonna like, specifically thank people by name for the simple reason that i’ve made a lot of friends so far in my time in famed, loads of people who aren’t even around anymore but also plenty of people i still get to talk to every day whether i’ve met them three years ago or last week. everyone i’ve become really close with, you know who you are, and i appreciate you a lot. but in general i have a lot of for everyone within famed and i want to thank all of you for making the group so lovely, whether we speak daily or haven’t even spoken at all. i see u, i appreciate u.

ofc, every rule comes w/ it exceptions and as does this one because i do want to give a special shoutout to beth. this is a beth appreciation space okay. i think every place should be a beth appreciation space tbh. either way, beth, thank you so much for all the work you put into famed, you’ve been keeping this whole show running all by yourself for years at this point PLUS you’ve been dealing w my bitchass for three years and honestly, if that doesn’t earn you a nobel peace price idk what does. you’re doing a great job and we all appreciate your hard work so much, i love you!!! 

ok now i’m FINALLY gonna shut up, if you read this entire thing... what the fuck get a hobby or smth why would you do that to yourself? but uh yeah, sorry this got rambly and emotional but i’m a pisces so... it’s not my fault. either way, peace out fuckers, love you all. let’s see if we’re gonna do this whole thing all over again next year x.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Not What It’s Cracked Up To Be ch.5 (baon)

Summary: Edge and Stretch are finally getting back on an even keel. Edge’s broken leg is healing well, Spring is finally here and the flowers are close to blooming.

Be a shame if anything disturbed their domestic bliss.

Tags:  Spicyhoney, Kustard, Established Relationships, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Fluff, Chickens, Depression

Notes: As a heads up, this chapter includes a depiction of depression.

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

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Read Chapter 5 on AO3

or

Read it here!

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Before Edge was willing to leave the house on what was likely a fool’s errand, he went back upstairs to peek in on Stretch. It was difficult to tell what was going on beneath the tangle of the blankets, but he seemed to be more relaxed from his tight, fetal curl of earlier. Probably sleeping and that was good.

Back in Underfell, his brother’s supposedly laziness used to drive him mad, but coming to the surface world brought a few humbling realizations. Depression was exhausting and so was low HP, and he no longer questioned the need for plenty of rest from any of those he cared about.

A closer inspection showed the blankets rising and falling in even rhythm, deep, slow breaths and Edge let out a near-silent, relieved sigh of his own, hoping that Stretch came out of the other side of sleep at least a little improved.

Edge hesitated at the bedside, wondering if he should leave a note. He decided against it. Stretch had his phone, he could text if he needed anything. Enough dithering about, whatever it was that Red was dragging him out of the house for must be at least a little important, the cameras Edge knew were hidden outside their house surely showed him what happened last night and—

Edge went stock-still on his way out the bedroom door, his hand still on the doorknob as suspicion along with sudden anger welled up in his soul. He closed the door with care and with slow deliberation, he pulled his phone out of his pocket to send a curt text back to his brother, Tell me what this is about.

No response and just as he was about to shove his phone back into his pocket came, awful slow these days, bro. hurry up and you can see for yourself.

His phone creaked in his hand and Edge forcibly loosened his grip, shoving it back into his pocket before he could give in to the childish urge to throw it against a wall. It wouldn’t change a thing except give him the extra headache of being without a phone until he could get a replacement. Red would have his fun and there wasn’t an angry text message in existence that would change that. There was only one way for his niggling suspicions to be confirmed and that was to play the game.

But he would have a thing or three to say once they were done, of that he was certain. Edge snagged his keys on the way out the door and headed out to his car.

The address Red sent him wasn’t more than a ten-minute drive to the mostly abandoned neighborhoods of Old New Home. As he pulled up to the abandoned lot, Red stepped out of a shortcut on the curb, hands in his pockets and his semi-permanent grin wide.

It set Edge’s emotions into a roiling conflict. On one hand, he was very annoyed with his brother, verging on furious if this turned out the way he suspected, and on the other…

On the other, the last time he’d seen his brother, it had started with him lying on Edge’s kitchen floor, bleeding out in his arms, and ended with Sans carrying him away. He looked tired, but that was more normal than not with Red.

Interesting to note that he was not wearing a matching collar to Sans, which meant either Sans had no idea what a single collar relationship symbolized, or he knew all too well and Edge wasn’t taking that thought any further. Brotherly concern was one thing, but he was not interesting in knowing the minute details of their relationship, so long as they were happy.

Speaking of happiness, Red’s grin was practically gleeful as Edge got out of the car. “awful slow, there, bro. gimp leg holding you back?”

“Shut up,” Edge said automatically, even as he limped over with cane in hand, “and start telling me why you dragged me out here.”

The mocking pout was all the more disturbing for being on Red’s face. “what, no hug?”

“I’d attempt it to prove a point,” Edge told him dryly, “but I have enough injuries without you literally stabbing me in the back. What. Do. You. Want.”

Red only shook his head, sighing as if with deep disappointment, ah, he was in a cheerful mood, wasn’t he. “all those years of you harping on manners and i ain’t even getting a how’s it going, how you been feeling, looking a lot better without all your marrow leakin’ out. no love at all, boss?”

If he wanted to play, Edge did still remember the rules. “Very well. How is Sans doing? He looked well when he brought me your report the other day. Is he taking care of any more of your work?”

That smile slipped a fraction. “he’s doin’ fine.”

Edge only looked at him, brow bone raised. If Red wasn’t going to discuss the elephant in the room, Edge would be more than happy to allow it to step on his foot. “I’m only asking as the Director of Operations, literally your boss, as you so enjoy pointing out. I’m sure you understand that it’s important for me to know what work my people are handling. In case there are any liabilities.”

That wide grin turned faintly wry, Red’s crimson eye lights gleaming his amusement. “yeah, fuck you, boss. he’s doin’ real good. decided for some dumbass reason he needs to move in. stupid fucking cat is having a fit.”

“Ah, yes, fuck you, only the very best comeback in your arsenal for me, I’m sure. And I can’t even begin to imagine why he’d want to move into that garbage pit you call a home.” Edge crossed his arms over his chest, glaring down at his brother. “All right, you’ve had your fun. Now, where is she?”

Red barked out a laugh. “oh, very good, little brother, already figured it out, didja.”

“Your puzzles haven’t improved since Junior Jumble, it was not that difficult.”

“not for you.” As far as he was out of his childhood years, hearing that rare tinge of pride in his brother’s voice still made him want to preen. Edge squashed the urge, following as Red jerked his head towards overgrown field behind him. “come on.”

The terrain would have been aggravating even with two perfectly working legs. Having one that sent up threatening warning twinges with every step made it all the worse and the soil was loose and muddy, hard for feet and the tip of his cane. Grimly, Edge follow his brother through the hip-deep weeds, taking sour enjoyment in the fact that they were nearly above his brother’s head.

“she was a bitch and a half to find, i tell you what,” Red said conversationally, shoving his way through the vegetation. Edge supposed he should be grateful Red hadn’t either gone all-out jungle trekking and brought a machete or worse, offered to shortcut them, if only to force Edge to refuse. The very thought of taking one of Red’s shortcuts made his gorge rise. His brother tromped on obliviously, or at least giving a remarkable appearance of it, “this little gal has some tricks. little chickie crossed a lotta roads to get here.”

“Care to explain how you even knew how to look for her?” Edge asked sardonically and it was just as well Red wasn’t looking at him, because Edge couldn’t hide his surprise when he answered.

“sure. i was the reason she was missing to begin with.”

Edge stopped, “What? What the fuck does that mean?!”

“keep your hair on, you want me to explain or not?” Red kept moving and after a moment, Edge followed him, hands clenched into painful fists to keep from reaching out and strangling him. All that would do was waste time and amuse Red all the more, and Edge was trying to keep his contributions to his brother’s sense of humor at a minimum. “motion sensor went off at your place in the wee hours last night.”

“Motion sensors that you are not supposed to have.”

“huh, strange thing,” Red mused aloud, “don’t remember anyone sayin’ i couldn’t.”

“I didn’t think I had to!”

“anywho, went over to check it out.” He paused, swearing under his breath as he picked several dried-up thistles from his jacket without even bothering to flick any in Edge’s direction and utterly ignoring Edge’s visibly simmering impatience. “and i saw some kinda animal with too much fur and not enough feathers to be in your coop. your little lady was outside in the fenced area and close to bein’ a midnight snack. so i scooped her up, but before i could deal with the toothy lil’ problem, your liability came swooping in like a fucking bare-ass bat out of hell, firing bones every which way. i shortcutted out before he could turn me into a kabob. didn’t really mean to take her along for the ride, but i didn’t exactly have a wide selection of options.” Red craned his head to look over his shoulder slyly, “’least the view wasn’t bad. he musta felt me getting ready to clean house and hightailed it down. honey bun has pretty good reaction time. better'n yours."

Edge ignored that. “And you didn’t bring her back afterward because?

Red only shrugged. “couldn’t. she weaseled her way loose the second we hit grass again and took off. spent half the night and all morning lookin’ for the little fucker. once i figured out where she was holed up, i messaged you.”

Edge exhaled slowly, struggling with his temper. “And why didn’t you simply tell me all this earlier? Stretch is sitting at home mourning her and you—"

“and if it turned out she got hit by a car or some shit?” Red countered sharply, “really wanted to go there? figured it’d be better to make sure she had her feathers intact before i got his hopes all up.”

That was surprisingly valid as excuses went, and yet, “You could have told me! At the very least I could have helped you search!”

“think so, little brother?” Red looked at him with enough scorn that Edge had to suppress a flinch, “or you think maybe you woulda told stretch, try and cheer him up a bit? i wanted you to look her over, make sure she's all right first, but hey, you go on and call him right now if that’s what you think is better.”

Edge ground his teeth and said nothing. All the arguing in the world couldn’t make Red understand that this might have been the last thin, straw that broke the back between Stretch and a very dark day. His brother coped with his issues in much different ways, in Edge’s experience usually copious amounts of alcohol. Perhaps Sans would have been able to explain it better. Or perhaps he would have already given in and slapped Red upside the head, it was a fair chance either way.

They kept up through the tall grass. It shushed around them in the light breeze, that rustle the only sound, surrounding them, and his car growing small and distant behind them. Red was panting when they came to a small clearing, leaning over with his hands braced on his knees as he panted out, “here we are.”

There, sitting happily in a trodden down area of grass, was Nugget. She cackled out a greeting, loud in the muffling hush of the grass, but concerningly she didn’t move when normally she would be dancing flirtatiously around Edge’s legs.

“Is she hurt?” Edge demanded. He reached for her, ready to carry her back to the car and straight to a veterinarian.

Red scratched at the back of his skull, “see, that’s the thing—”

Before Edge could pick her up, she let out a warning screech and tried to peck at his hands. He snatched them back, staring down at her in bemused shock.

“—she seems to be in a mood of some sort,” Red finished, “can’t figure it out, she ain’t bleeding and she hadta walk all the way over here on her own. i woulda brought her back to your place when i found her, but she was pretty insistent on stayin’ right there.”

Baffled, Edge ran a Check on her, ignoring how ridiculous it seemed to do on a chicken. Her HP was fine, and he thought it better not to question why she had a LV of 2. “She doesn’t seem hurt.”

He reached out again cautiously, ignoring her pinching little beak attacks against his gloves, and lifted her up. Beneath her, the grass was torn up and arranged into a sort of nest and inside it—

Red crouched down to peer into it, mouth twisting crookedly. “huh. where you figure she got the golf balls?”

“I have no idea.” Standing in a field questioning the intentions of a chicken was not where Edge ever expected to find himself.

Red reached in and pinched a small, white object between two sharpened fingertips, lifting it up from the pile to inspect it despite Nuggets increasingly loud squalls of betrayal. “there’s one egg, anyway. least she’s still layin’ for you.”

Tucking Nugget against his side to stop her squirms, Edge only stared at it, perplexed, and said slowly, “That isn’t one of her eggs. Nugget’s eggs are a pale green.”

“huh.” Red set it back gently into the pile of grass and golf balls, and scrubbed hand over his face. “lemme get this straight. your little mini liability found a random egg in a pile of golf balls and decided to settle in and play momma? that’s what we think’s happenin’ here?”

“Would you like me consult my crystal ball? I don’t speak chicken and you’re the one whose been spying on them.” Nugget was getting increasingly difficult to hold and her forlorn and angry cries were either too heartrending or too annoying for Red to ignore. He heaved a sigh, shaking his head.

“hang on to the little shit,” Red ordered, even as he stepped sideways into a shortcut. Leaving Edge alone in the tall grass with an increasingly distraught chicken.

“Hush, hush, come on now,” Edge soothed, gentle petting what he could reach of her feathers. Her loud clucks dissolved into unhappy coos, looking up at Edge with mournfully beady little eyes. How was this his life, Edge wondered, with weary amusement, catering to the whims of a bird that once he would have seen more as lunch than a pet. He gave her a gentle scritch underneath the chin and she crooned softly, her small eyes closing as she finally settled.

Only to squawk loudly as Red abruptly reappeared, “here we go.”

In his hands was a hanging basket with a spray of flowers only just beginning to bloom from the leafy tendrils. It was rather lovely, definitely expensive, and absolutely did not belong to Red.

“Where did you get that?” Edge demanded.

Red shrugged, “only thing that matters is they didn’t see me.” He dumped the flowers out onto the ground in a sad splatter of leaves and potting soil, then crouched down and began filling it with grass. “c’mon, the joke’s getting’ old and the crowd’s restless, let’s get the show on the road.”

Edge made a mental note to have a much nicer replacement sent discreetly to anyone who complained about a missing floral arrangement and started to crouch down to help. Only for his brother to brusquely wave him back.

“hold the fucking chicken, i got this,” Red snapped. He didn’t look up at Edge, stuffing grass into the basket furiously. “you been standing long enough, last thing you need is to get down here and not be able to get back up. bet that leg is singing an ava maria by now.”

Slowly, Edge straightened, watching silently as Red filled the basket and he didn’t protest his leg was fine, didn’t try to reassure him, only let him make a messy little nest in the basket. He added the golf balls, nestling them into the grass, then hesitated over the egg, finally giving Edge a side eye. “uh. so do we take it or leave it?”

“Take it,” Edge decided. “Perhaps Stretch can do some research and find out what kind of egg it is.”

“it’s your funeral, don’t blame me if you end up with pet crocodile or some shit.”

“Nonsense, crocodiles aren’t native to Ebott. Snakes, however—” He trailed off as Nugget renewed her struggles and leaned down to set her in the basket. She settled immediately, fluffing out her feathers and nestling in. “I suppose that’s that.”

“yep, take ‘er home.” Red stood and stretched, both hands pressed into the small of his back as the joints popped. “by the way, i saw you doing work on the coop. ain’t a bad idea, but you don’t have a fox problem, boss.” His brother straightened and tucked his hands into his pockets, his grin colder, sharper, and in that moment, he could have stepped dusty and damaged directly from Underfell. “’least not anymore.”

He was gone before Edge could even open his mouth to ask.

He was alone again in the tall grass with nothing but a contented chicken for company and his car a painfully long walk away, particularly when lugging said chicken along.

“Thank you, brother,” Edge said, with an equal measure of sincerity and sarcasm. There was nothing for it. Edge heaved up the basket in his free hand and started to struggle his way back through the field.

Time to head home. Home, yes, home, where Stretch was hopefully still asleep, and Edge could only hope that seeing Nugget would shake at least a little of his depression loose. The thought of even a faint smile from his love was enough to make the growing ache in his leg well worth it.

tbc

[containsxmultitudes]

🍭, ✂, & 💘

Shipping headcanon meme.

🍭 – What are some thoughtful gift ideas to get your muse?

Well the first thing is anything alongside the words, “I saw this and I thought of you.” At which point it can be the dumbest shit in the world as an inside joke, or the most meaningful and sweet and he will almost certainly love it.

Also he’s an artist, so like things to help him create and do art is always appreciated. Whether that’s an art he’s already proficient in or something he’s yet to try. As well as being personally made something by the other person. He thinks handmade gifts are sweet as fuck and will always find a place to keep it.

And as a very simple answer, anything that ends in a pun. He’s a fan of the dad humor.

✂ – How does your muse handle a break-up? Have they ever been dumped before? How do they break-up with a partner?

In terms of how he handles it these days he’s likely to understand. He’ll be sad, maybe think it’s unfair, wallow in a little bit of self pity for a minute or two. But then he’ll understand and move on as best he can and not make it a life ending deal. After all he’s been through he knows he’s got a lot of baggage. He’s not going to make someone stay if they don’t want to. He’ll hope that they still want to be friends, but he’ll let it go. It’s at least better to know they’re safe and alive than it is to think they’re going to get murdered because they’re with him.

He has been dumped before. But it was usually in the earlier years of his life. Otherwise he’s got the tendency to be the one doing the dumping if it’s not working.

He breaks up with people in ways that make sense to the scenario at hand. But he tries to make sure it’s in person so it’s not like he’s breaking up over text or something. He tries his best to be honest and open about it. But he’s direct. If he doesn’t want to be with you in that way anymore, or for some reason he can’t even if he does want to? He’ll say it.

💘 – What is a romantic AU you’ve always wanted to write, but haven’t yet?

Tropes wise, I’m honestly trash for like a good hate-to-love lol. But not like “ew we’re being abusive to each other but now we’re in love.” more like really just getting off on the exact wrong foot. Which like they kinda make each other think, but they fucking hate it cause they’re stubborn bitches. And it grows to a begrudging respect. Maybe they find a common ground they didn’t expect. It’s sassy, but they’re kinda okay now. And then OH SHIT I LOVE THIS DUMB SHIT AND I’D DIE FOR THEM??? And they are sassy fuckers on all levels but it’s clear they love each other. And I want that.

Just full AU, the first thought in my head upon seeing that was, “PIRATE AU PIRATE AU!!!!” which is odd because I never really thought about it before. Guess there’s a low-key desire for the Pirate Vibes. Pirates are kinda gay and I’m into it.

[tommynikkivincemick]

three way call — part 9

Summary: Tommy Lee and Nikki Sixx find themselves in the frustrating predicament of being infatuated with the same woman. This calls for a competition.

Author’s note: What’s up fuckers, it’s been a minute! Sorry for the long hiatus, but shit’s been fucked! But now I’m back and will hopefully be writing more. This will probably be the last chapter of three way call, but I’ll totally write an epilogue if y’all would like one. Also sorry if I forgot anyone on the tag list, I haven’t been keeping up with requests very well. Sincerest apologies. Enjoy.

Warnings: Language, alcohol, mild violence, the usual.

Over the following weeks, Tommy, Y/N, and Nikki became inseparable and the Terror Twins became the Terror Triplets. The trio would constantly be touching, kissing, cuddling, sitting on top of each other, or excusing themselves to go have sex. They knew how each other member of the throuple liked their coffee and what kind of cigarettes they smoked, how they tossed and turned in bed, their preferred brands of beer, and what toppings they liked on their pizza. Y/N knew that Nikki didn’t think Crown Royal was worth the money as far as whiskeys went and that Tommy preferred sativa over indica because it didn’t make him feel as hazy. Nikki knew that Tommy didn’t like cheap vodka when doing shots because he’d thrown it up so many times before and he knew that when Y/N made the coffee, it somehow tasted better despite being made the exact same way by everybody. Tommy knew that Y/N only used Sally Hansen nail polish and owned every shade of red ever made, or so it seemed, and that Nikki only burned dragon’s blood incense, only from this weird little hole in the wall shop downtown.

To Vince and Mick, the closeness was nauseating. Vince was tired of fourth wheeling in his own home and tired of being kept up all night and some of the morning by “Oh Tommy, oh Nikki, oh Y/N,” and the pounding of the headboard on the wall. The most blissful times were when Y/N was at work or the trio decided to spend the night at her apartment instead. However, when Y/N was away, the boys had begun to play, testing boundaries romantically and in the bedroom at all hours of the day. Even band practice has changed; Nikki with his perfectionist tendencies harped on Vince and Mick as usual but suddenly everything Tommy did was perfect. In Tommy’s eyes everything should be dialed back a bit, unless it was his drumming or Nikki’s bass.

“I’m so sick to death of those three,” Mick said one day while the Twins were visiting their third at work.

“Oh, shut up, you don’t even live with them! They’re so far up each other’s asses, you can’t even tell where one ends and the others begin at this point,” Vince bitched.

“Don’t get me wrong, Y/N is great, and I’m glad they’re all happy, but when it affects the band is when I draw the line.”

“I know! Nikki and Tommy have been skipping practices and they’re god damned lucky all of our gigs have gone smoothly. I mean, hell; Sixx is supposed to be the leader of this band and who was it that had to call back that Zutaut guy about scheduling a meeting with those record exec guys? Fucking me! I mean, we call Nikki the leader, we call Y/N our manager, and Tommy’s the second in command, so they need to start fucking acting like it if we’re gonna score this record deal.”

“Should we break them up?” Mick asked, a devious sparkle in his eye.

“Absolutely not. Good material has been flowing from Nikki like fucking water; have you read the lyrics for new piece? ‘Looks That Kill’, or whatever? It’s bitchin’, and I don’t even care that it’s about Y/N. He told me what he wants for the instrumentals and it’s gonna be awesome, the whole next album will be.” Vince gushed.

“They’ll tire themselves out eventually,” Mick sighed, “Until then, we suffer, and also tell them to get their shit together.”

Meanwhile at the record store, Y/N swore she was about to throw her lovers out of the store.

“When’s your lunch break?”

“When does your shift end?”

“We miss you!”

“Just close the store for a little while, we won’t tell...”

“Yeah, come on, baby, live a little!”

She loved Tommy and Nikki— really she did— but today they were making her want to tear her fucking hair out. The Twins were especially needy today and it seemed like their whining and pleading wouldn’t ever stop.

“Guys, you’re gonna get me fired, stop it!” She hissed, slapping Tommy’s hand off of her ass.

“Your boss is never even here! Nine times out of ten, you’re the only one working in here,” Nikki reminded, taking another cherry sucker from the bowl on the counter, and watching as Tommy slid behind her again.

“Yeah, but there’s customers here and sometimes the owner’s son comes by to check in and... and...” Her eyelids fluttered and her train of thought went off the tracks as Tommy began kissing her neck and nibbling her earlobe to distract her, “Tommy! I’m gonna slap you in the face if you don’t stop it!”

“But don’t you like it?” He whispered.

“I love it, that’s the problem. You two go home and I’ll see you in an hour for lunch, yeah? I’ll even call in sick for the rest of the day and have what’s-her-name cover for me.”

“Fine,” Nikki pouted, “You promise?”

“I promise, lover,” She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him gently, “But I promise nothing if you two don’t get out and let me get some work done.”

“C’mon, Sixx,” Tommy huffed and leaned down to give Y/N a kiss on the cheek, “See ya later, sweet thing.”

“Later, babes,” She smiled and waved goodbye as they left at last.

She sighed a sigh of deep relief and sank into her chair that sat behind the register. Finally she could take a breather and get some work done. Then the phone rang.

“Mötley residence, Mick speaking, can I please speak to Y/N?”

“Black Cat Records, Y/N speaking, what’s up, man?” She greeted.

“Are the boys still there?”

“Nope, just left. Why, did you need something?”

“No, no. They’ll be home soon enough, I’m sure. We’re having a band meeting later, though, and you need to be there, too.”

“Yeah, got it. Good news or bad news?”

“Little of both. Well, little bad, lot of good.”

“Okay, I’ll be off in a little under two hours and I told the boys I’d call in for the rest of the afternoon. See ya later, Mars man.”

“See ya later, Terror Triplet.”

She chuckled at the name and hung up. As she stuck price labels on a new shipment of records, she wondered what the news could be. The rest of the morning drug on slowly with few customers and boring music on the radio. No Mötley Crüe, that’s for sure. Finally, it was time for the lunch break. Y/N made a quick call before she left.

“Hey, Sylvia? Can you cover me this afternoon? Yeah, yeah, band stuff, you know. Yeah, I’ll tell the boys you said hello. Thanks, hun, I owe you one.”

She was lucky her coworker picked up and was even luckier she agreed to cover her. Even though her boys annoyed her, she still couldn’t wait to go home to them. Y/N was also anxious about Mick’s news. There was so much on her mind that she couldn’t even pay attention to the Blondie song that was on the radio as she drove to the Mötley residence. She climbed through the window of the apartment to find all of the boys laying around the living room in various states of undress.

“Why are you all half naked?” She snickered.

“It’s hot as balls, babe. Our AC broke, I think,” Tommy whined.

“Did you hit it?”

“A little,” Vince sighed, “It didn’t help.”

Y/N hummed to herself and went to the other window, kicking the air conditioning unit as hard as she could, to no avail.

“Damn, that usually works. Oh well, is there cold drinks in the fridge?”

“Yeah, Vinnie went grocery shopping today. We got beer, Diet Coke, bitchy wine cooler things, and some other shit,” Nikki replied, fanning himself with a random piece of sheet music.

She kicked off her shoes and shirt and grabbed a Coke from the fridge, sitting on the floor between Nikki’s legs and leaning her head on his thigh.

“Why are you wearing these leather pants, babe? Aren’t they hot?”

“Fashion before function, sweetheart,” The bassist shrugged.

“So Mick,” Tommy piped up, “What’s your big news?”

The guitarist sat up in his chair, and cleared his throat.

“Good news first. Do you guys remember that Zutaut kid?”

“Dorky rugby shirt?” Tommy asked.

“Yeah, that’s the one. He talked it over with Electra and called today saying they want to sign us as soon as possible.”

The boys and Y/N erupted in a chorus of whoops and hell-yeahs.

“So what’s the bad news? I don’t think anything can sting after that,” Nikki grinned.

Vince shifted uncomfortably before addressing the rhythm section and their lady love.

“Nikki, Tommy, Y/N, let me start by saying we love that you guys are happy together. But me and Mick feel that you’re letting this relationship consume you a little too much. Nikki, you’ve been letting Tommy get away with murder during practices. Tommy, you’re going soft with Sixx and Y/N, man. And Y/N, you’re our manager, but you’ve been devoting more of your time to the guys than the band as a whole. You should have been the one to talk to Electra and tell us we’re getting signed, you know? But we’ve been having to pick up the slack and that sucks.”

The trio nodded guiltily. They knew their priorities were a bit skewed as of late. Y/N had been meaning to call Electra for days, Tommy had been slacking and not taking his position as second in command seriously, and Nikki was too in love to whip Tommy into shape again. It wasn’t fair to Mick and Vince, and they knew that.

“Yeah, I mean us being together makes us happy, but maybe we should’ve considered if it would be good for the band,” Tommy sighed.

“Maybe taking a break would be the best thing for the band,” Y/N mused, words soaked in sorrow.

“Hey, no! You don’t have to take a break from each other, just even out your priorities a little more, you know?” Mick offered, “Tommy still acts like a ten year old but has more grown up moments since you guys started this. Nikki broods less and the creative juices really seem to be flowing. And you seem really content, and me and Vince don’t want to take that from you. You just needed to be straightened out. It’s cool, just focus on the band more, okay?”

The three nodded and sighed in relief. Y/N excused herself to go lie down because it had been a long day, and Nikki followed. Tommy would have, but insisted that Nikki’s bedroom was too stuffy for the Los Angeles heat with no air conditioner. The bassist opened the window in his bedroom to allow for some air flow as the manager removed her shirt and pants to lie down on the dark sheets.

“Were you serious when you talked about us taking a break?” Nikki asked, sitting on the floor beside the bed.

“Only half. If it would be better for the band, I think we could all agree on it. But it would kill me not to be with you and T-Bone anymore,” She whispered.

“Yeah, I get it. I don’t think I could go back to not being with you two dumbasses,” He cracked a smirk, “The bed’s too big without a couple extra warm bodies next to me.”

“I bet you’d write some killer breakup songs, though. Everybody loves a heartbreak,” She joked, fanning herself with a magazine from the table.

“I wouldn’t love this heartbreak,” Nikki sighed, leaning his head on the mattress, inches away from hers.

She took the memo and kissed him deeply before the sounds of chaos erupted from the living room.

“Damn it, Tommy! Don’t drink all the beer!” Vince whined, “Grab another one and I’ll... I’ll shoot you with a staple gun!”

“Did you leave your bag out there?” Nikki whispered.

“Mhm,” Y/N hummed.

“Is your staple gun from the store in it?”

“Mhm, wh—“

There was a metallic pop, followed by shouting.

“FUCK, BLONDIE! YOU MISSED MY EYE BY AN INCH!” Tommy shrieked.

“HALF AN INCH!” Vince yelled back.

“Oh, fuck,” The couple in the bedroom sighed in unison, before going out to join back in the chaos.

Tag list: @jayprettymuchomw @kayladurin @crazysaladchopshop @iamtiber-andtiberismusic @loveofmyloif @saints-of-the-universe @tommyfuckinlee @oh-well1 @cranberribread @princesadeltoro @prostidudes-for-justice @miriampraez @tarahell @n-osebleed @valentines-in-london @bohemian-war @cuntlord0606 @holding-on-to-my-youth @abbysdogcollar @deacontaylormercurymay @fuckyeah-motleycrue

[itsapapisongo]

the long night

An excerpt from a work in progress in honor of @vernosaur​ because sic semper tyrannis is a fantastic story.

WORD COUNT: 2.8k

          [1] THE city was cold.

The fact that it rained a few hours earlier had certainly made the night even colder than it was supposed to be. In the distance, a few blocks away, sirens could be heard as they echoed across Queens. Everything seemed fine, nothing out of the ordinary, yet the evening felt a tad foreboding for Hong Kyungjae’s taste. After a few minutes of thinking of why it bothered, it hit him: It’s because, for a city that’s known for being loud, the city itself was too quiet—and that was never a good thing.

Not even the talkative Webhead that patrolled these blocks had made a grand webslinging entrance yet. Matter of fact, Kyungjae hadn’t heard nor seen anything of that friendly, but noisy webslinger critter in what seemed like weeks. He made a mental-note to ask the guys about Spider-Boy later in the night.

The lack of movement in the streets unnerved him.

His eyes diverted from the dashboard to the building opposite him—large, old, in need of some remodeling—and felt like the place should be occupied not by the Daegu Crew but by someone who really needed a home. It was, after all, a pretty adequate location to be fixed and made into an apartment complex. He knew that wouldn’t happen for this place, as old and as close to collapse as it was, had been owned by people who cared little for the needs of the many for over five years. His boss, however, seemed to have other plans for it; or so he had heard.

Kyungjae sighed and decided not to overthink (or think for that matter) of anything that could upset him, fingers being unconsciously drummed against the steering wheel. Against his better judgement, the silence transformed his calm to impatience, his mind rapidly extracting past events he’d rather not revisit. The memories flashed in no particular order and this overwhelmed him as he had no time to avoid the emotional whiplash that ensued and failed to endured. Moments flashed rapidly in vivid detail.

That first week in the Bronx that tiny, piss-smelling room and sharing the floor with nine other guys; the long sleepless nights several weeks after, during which he was forced to learn the “basics”; the moment where he was indoctrinated in the Crew’s rules, forced to hold a switchblade for the first time. The memories—more like vivid nightmares—made him want to vomit, but he settled for a faint gag that he passed off as a burp.

Why now, he thought, massaging the bridge of his nose, of all moments?

Maybe after a year with the Crew, avoiding cops and all kinds of trouble, he had become jaded and paranoid. Perhaps, he had grown a conscience—or, maybe, he always had one, but had ignored it, and only now was he finally listening to it. This business does that to you, he mused as he lowered the radio’s volume, but, then again, I really hate this job.

Mostly, though not completely, he felt like that because he had lost the coin-toss against one of the guys and was now stuck in a car, being lookout with Dimples, waiting for Sunny and Ace to pick up whatever goods needed to be moved from safe house to safe house. They could be there—parked rather suspiciously in front of an empty building—for hours. Kyungjae knew this was a possibility since he had been in this “shift” about six months back and remembered very vividly seeing morning bloom across the horizon after a night of driving around the city.

The job was easy. Being a lookout was self-explanatory yet he really hated it. Not because of Dimples—though he was a contributing factor—but because it was too damn easy and easy nearly always meant trouble. The Crew did easy, but too easy was something they avoided; it often had the stench of cops. Plus, knowing himself better than anyone, Kyungjae liked a challenge thus it stood to reason that just because something was easy, it didn’t mean it wasn’t boring or worth the risk.

For a moment, lost in his thoughts, he began to wonder how long it had been since he had a good night’s sleep. He took a lot of naps, but he couldn’t think of the last time he had slept more than a Christopher Nolan flick. This line of work demanded a lot of him—lack of privacy and loyalty being at the top of the list—and sleep was one of those things he had to reluctantly give up in order to continue being employed.

He grimaced at the notion of being so attached to his occupation. It wasn’t the first time a bemused and cringe-like expression crossed his face as that thought popped in his head. He certainly made a shit-ton of money so that was, perhaps, the one big reason to stick around. And while the perks were good, he knew he could be doing something far more worthwhile. A man could only take so much before deciding that dealing with contraband was a waste of his life.

“What’s the time?”

This from the passenger seat, where Dimples—who unconsciously adjusted his wool hat and sniffed loudly and groggily—looked beyond exhausted with dark shadows under his eyes. He had woken up from a nap, his eyes barely open (even less than usual) and his face somewhat pink rather than pale.

“It’s, uh, let me check . . .” Kyungjae checked his phone, gently touching the home button with his pinky. “Two thirty five in the AM.”

“Fuck!” Dimple pulled the beanie off his head, revealing a head of unkempt blond-dyed hair. He glanced despondently at his surroundings until his eyes fell upon the building to Kyungjae’s left. “Just how long is this going to take?”

Kyungjae shrugged. “Y’know how this works, Dee.”

“I fuckin’ hate this damn shift.”

Grinning ruefully, Kyungjae noticed how small his partner’s eyes became and how the pout he sported made him look like an oversized baby. Or a thin, freckled Buddha, he thought to himself. Dimples had always been baby-faced and his tantrums, often accompanied by colorful and intense language, had made him the butt of many jokes. He was certainly not an easy partner to work with but Dimples had shown time and time again, that he was more than reliable. It was just a matter of slapping some sense into him.

“Yeah.” Kyungjae nodded, hands gently gripping the wheel. “That makes two of us.”

“What are we doing here again? I thought the boss had crossed Queens off the map.”

Kyungjae scoffed, grinning. “You make him sound like a pirate.”

“Aish.” Annoyed, Dimples sucked air through his teeth. “Y’know what I meant, hyung.”

“Yeah.” The older of the two nodded again, smiling. “I know.”

They remained quiet for a few minutes, focusing on the radio. Dimples shifted in his seat, arms against his chest, his trademark baby-pout upon his lips while he looked between the building and the car’s dashboard. Kyungjae could tell he was trying to be patient but his body language betrayed him. Dimples looked more like he was holding a burp rather than practicing patience. It made Kyungjae stifle a chuckle and promptly shake his head as he looked on from his partner to the empty building.

Everything was too quiet. It had been nearly an hour since Sunny and Ace stepped out of the Range Rover, empty duffel bags in hand. Not much had happened since. With the building being empty and decrepit, no one would snoop around. If they did, they would be sorely disappointed. It was the gang’s best kept-secret and their preferred way of stashing money or making it disappear. It was not a good idea to have all the profits together thus it was an inconspicuous method to move it around, hiding it for a few days in an undisclosed location until it was safe to stash it in the boss’ vault.

The boss was a fan of misdirection. Buildings like these helped him practice it.

After what felt like an eternity, Kyungjae sighed and checked his phone. Another twenty minutes had passed and they were still there: parked, silent, perfect for infraganti pictures the cops could use against him. The thought alone made him shudder.

“What’s taking so long?”

Dimples shrugged, eyes nearly closed. “Do I look like I know?”

Kyungjae raised an eyebrow, relented from rolling his eyes, and then turned to his phone. He unlocked it, looked up his contacts, gently jabbed the screen once, and waited for the call to be answered. Four rings into his waiting, someone picked up, promptly replying without hesitation.

“Almost done,” said Ace.

“What’s that in minutes and seconds?”

Ace made a sound, a guttural but faint little sound that resembled an exasperated groan.

“Five minutes, tops.”

“Five minutes. Got it.” Kyungjae hung up, checked the time, then put on a five minute countdown on his phone’s timer. He wasn’t punctual but he appreciated the concept. “Be ready,” he said to Dimples. “We’re almost there.”

“Thank God,” Dimples muttered, his voice low and groggy.

          [2]

ACE wasn’t fond of being called in the middle of work.

Especially if and when he was collecting money for the boss. It annoyed him to no end. The others knew it—Kyungjae, of all people, knew it—and yet they still had the audacity to call him, demanding that he hurry up. The balls on this fucker, he thought, counting a pack of hundred dollar bills. Nine, ten, eleven, twelve, fifteen thousand. All good. Into the bag it went, neatly placed among other stacks of money.

He said five minutes, but only a minute and a half had passed. As he took the last four stacks of money, moving to count them one by one, Sunny entered the room, what once had been a landlord’s office, and dropped two duffel bags unto the door. Full of cash, they fell with a dull thud that momentarily startled Ace. Pale and stoic, with a perpetual resting bitch-face, Sunny Min looked around and sniffed, flipping over a milk crate to sit on it.

“What’s up your ass now?” he asked, slurring his words.

“Nothing.”

“Something’s up.”

Ace clicked his tongue and lazily gestured over his head. “The ceiling.”

“Ah . . .” Sunny threw his head back, nodding. “Who was it, then?”

“Take a guess.”

Sunny shook his head, grimacing as he stuffed his arms in his jacket.

“I’ve never understood that phrase,” he muttered, looking bored.

“It means you gotta guess—wait—why am I explaining this to you?”

“You can guess something, y’know? I don’t have a problem with that.” Sunny shrugged. “But to take a guess, as if it were something tangible? That’s just ridiculous.”

Ace stopped counting and turned to his associate, a blank expression framing his face. If this had been an attempt at humor, it had been a rather mediocre one. If it had been an honest thought, an opinion Sunny seldom imparted to anyone but himself when no one was around, a shower thought as some called it, then it was a strange one. While Ace found that there was some truth to what Sunny had said, it was simply an innocuous and stupid thing to say.

“Yeah.” Ace mumbled, nodding slowly. “Right.”

Sunny shrugged then cleared his throat. “How long is this going to take?”

“Don’t.” Ace huffed, narrowed eyes directed at his friend. He shook his head and mumbled, bills being swiftly accounted for. It was only when he finished counting the money stack he had that he addressed Sunny again. “Not while I’m taking inventory.”

“What about now?”

Placing the money on the bag, he rubbed his forehead with his thumb. “This’ll take as long as it needs to take, Sun.”

“You’re starting to sound like him, y’know?”

Ace grimaced. “It’s moments like these where I understand why he’s so easily irritated.”

“You should relax.” Sunny scratched the back of his neck. “Usually right-hand men don’t do well when stricken with anxiety.”

“After everything that has been happening, a little anxiety is the norm.”

Sunny slightly pouted in a ‘touché’ sort of way, head tilted to the left. He could understand that, especially since Ace had a point. With Frank Castle’s little crusade against everyone, the so-called Defenders targeting the Hand, and that enigmatic stranger that for the past five months had been targeting several operations linked to the Crew and the Dragon Lords, things had been exceedingly hectic. The boss had been handling the situation as best he could, but both Ace and Sunny could tell he was just one bad day away from putting a bounty on that asshole’s head.

The stranger, whom the Crew had begun to refer to as the Golden Shadow,  was part of an already growing and bloated community of good-doers, enhanced and otherwise. The presence of vigilantes meant that New York’s organized crime had escalated from clandestine to openly acknowledged, often with a good amount of dread. This Shadow had a proclivity for leaving a trail of bodies, none dead yet broken bones abounded plenty.

So, yes, anxiety, as of late, was the norm.

“The night’s awfully quiet,” said Sunny, his tone solemn. “Foreboding, isn’t it?”

“I’d rather not think about that.” Ace shook his head gently then his partner a pack of bills. “Here, count this.”

“As you wish,” said Sunny, his resting bitch-face becoming even bitchier.

          [3]

AS he had said, Ace was out of the building five minutes later. He and Sunny walked out, their pace calm, duffel bags full and heavy. Without being told what to do, knowing that they were done and had been there long enough, Kyungjae took the wheel and drove off into the night.

They didn’t speak, barely paying attention to the song faintly playing on the radio, and instead focused on looking over their shoulders every so often. Cops could’ve been close by. Them or whatever poor bastard that thought it wise to steal from the Daegu Crew. And because they rarely ever used guns—the boss wasn’t keen on them and they were only to be used only if and when the situation called for it—looking over their shoulder had become second nature.

Tonight, like every other night, they were unharmed. No guns. Just their wits, Ace’s black-belt, and Sunny’s snark since Kyungjae hadn’t held a knife since his initiation and Dimples preferred to do business without making a ruckus. Diplomacy, for the most part, was their greatest weapon and their first resort. That was the way the boss preferred it.

After twenty minutes of moving aimlessly through the city to throw off anyone that might have been on their trail, they headed straight for the rendezvous point. They met the boss wherever he told them to. Safe houses often changed and so did the rendezvous whenever a withdrawal operation was done. The boss had sent an address in Chinatown, some building he had his eye on for the future expansion of their business. He had asked that they were discreet.

So far, so good, Ace thought as Kyungjae parked in a narrow alley behind a creme-and-brown building.

As the others hopped out of the vehicle, duffel bags divided between each other, Ace took in his surroundings: the alley was mostly empty with two commercial trash-containers against a wall to his left and nothing else was in sight. It reeked of rotten food and something else that was morbidly familiar to him. While empty and not as dirty as most of the city’s alleyways Ace had seen or walked past, the place was not lived in. It was as though someone had cleaned its surface and made it sure no one would make camp there. The look of the place was certainly suspicious but it didn’t raise any big alarms in Ace’s mind.

He sniffed the rancid air, shook his head, then rushed to join the others as they opened a back door, making their way inward. Ace paused, checked, over his shoulder, then disappeared as the door behind him.

[blackcatanna]

Kinky TB Adventures (probably) with Okita Part 1: Kyoto Winds

Finally playing another Hakuoki route because I spent 10 hours travelling yesterday and I deserve some imaginary romance, damn it! Choosing Okita because he seems fun and I hate that he disappears from the story pretty early on in most routes and then dies off screen :'(

WARNING: I wrote a lot :) 

Intro:

I don't know why but Kodo's evil old man face made me laugh so much during the intro.

Playing the prologue because it has a hearty chunk of Okita in it and it's been a while since I played the game.

Chizuru talking about the invisible wall between herself and other people is relatable af :')

"I'm not sure if I belong here... No. No, that's all in my head." < < < ME. Hello imposter syndrome, my old friend :')

I now feel like a li'l bitch for complaining about my journey yesterday when Chizuru WALKED nearly 500KM from Edo to Kyoto X_X

I'm loving this old timey film effect on the Kodo flashback.

I feel like Kodo's actions and motivations change depending on the route so I'm not going to try too hard to wrap my head around them here.

I love that "Ronin" is basically shorthand for "Evil Douchebag Thug" in this game X_X

Yukimura: "Be careful, father! Kyoto is a dangerous place!" Also Yukimura: "I have nothing to fear because I look like a BOY :) " Selfless but foolish X_X Although, you could argue that being reckless is selfish because it disregards your loved ones' feelings, should you get hurt.

At least the game gives these ronin names :') although... they don't have eyes. I think I'd rather have eyes, if I had to choose.

"I could still hear the ronin cursing loudly" I just have an image of these three guys running through the streets of Kyoto yelling, "FUCK. SHIT. PISS. ASS."

This game invested a lot in blood effects and sounds and I respect and appreciate that.

"He died with the first blow" Silver linings?

"They were... broken" :'(

Awe, the furies look so happy to see me :') JK, this scene is appropriately chilling. They do have big smiles, though.

More blood splashes and visceral blood descriptions :')

Okita, your sadism is showing.

Or maybe he knows that Saito doesn't like killing his comrades and that's why he wanted to kill them first :O :O :O

"if you just sat back and let them kill the kid, you could have saved us some trouble." -_- I enjoy Okita's banter but I have a feeling that it's going to be a bit one sided because Chizuru doesn't do back talk X_X

WAIT A FUCKING SECOND, WHY IS OKITA NOT BLINKING?!??

Oh here we go. Let's take a moment to worship Hijikata. I still think that Saito and Okita are better looking but sure, let's take a break to gush about "smooth, dark hair" in the moonlight and "the wistfulness of flower petals" "as if the cherry trees were blooming out of season" X_X ick.

HEY. CHIZURU. REMEMBER WHO RESCUED YOU. IT WASN'T THIS FUCKER.

OH GOD, IT CONTINUES, "His voice was cold and quiet, like a blade of ice. Blue-white moonlight lit his slender face.." blah blah ick.

OH, WE'RE STILL NOT DONE?!? "But it wasn't the sword making my breath catch. It was his eyes. They were fierce and hard, but somewhere behind them... I could catch a glimpse of... something else." Blah blah, troubled, mercy, blah

"Run, and I will kill you. Do you understand?" SPLOOSH (yes, I have been watching Archer)

I was sort of joking about being aroused by threats of violence but swords are definitely sexier than... whatever that whole flowery passage was...

Okita still is not blinking O_O

Hijikata telling Okita to shut up is a mood. Sorry, Okita.

Okay, NOW Okita's blinking. Guess all it took was Hijikata suggesting that they're going to kill me for a change. Apparently, only Okita's allowed to threaten to murder me X_X

Side note: if anyone reads this and is wondering if I'm aware that I switch between "You", "Me" and "Chizuru" then yes, I am and no, I don't care.

Apparently, Okita blinking was a fluke. Maybe he only blinks when he is pushed off stride or, like, flustered or surprised?

Also, I don't tend to think of Okita as being especially tall but he's taller than Hijikata!

"So we should just kill people now?" Um... you don't do that?

"What?! Come on, you can't be serious" HE SAID, BLINKING AND THUS BACKING UP MY THEORY.

"Almost as if I was being... drawn into their world..." Oh dear! We wouldn't want that to happen, that's not why we bought the game at all! :P

"A world where there is nothing strange in carrying on a normal conversation in the dead of night with corpses for company." Edgy. Although, I hope that this conversation is far from normal O_O

"As you wish." Hijikata is Saito's Princess Buttercup. I'm not jealous.

WHOA. I was just musing about death as usual and now Okita's RIGHT UP IN MY FACE.

"We did save you, didn't we?" WELL, TECHNICALLY, Saito saved me. You suggested letting the furies KILL ME.

"I didn't realise right away he was speaking to me." How? He's taking up the entire screen?

"Thank you very much." Fair. "I apologise for not thanking you earlier." Okay, calm down. It's not like they gave you a chance to speak in between death threats.

"The man called Hajime also looked confused. His eyes were wide and he had an expression I couldn't place." Then allow me: STARTLED ERMINE. Hijikata's is DISGRUNTLED HORSE and Okita's is SMUG LYNX. Aka: how three different animals react to the discovery that their prey is a girl. I know that horses don't hunt prey. However, they do have to deal with it when their animal subordinates unwittingly capture it.

"He broke out in laughter again, so much so that he was forced to wipe a few tears from his eyes" I'M SO GLAD THAT YOU'RE HAVING SUCH A JOLLY TIME, YOU ASS.

Now that he's figured out that I'm a girl, he's suddenly keen to introduce himself :P

"The one you should be thanking for saving you is Hajime Saito" CORRECT.

Is he deliberately trying to let him kill me by giving out as much info as possible? O_o

"His fingers like iron cables around my arm." Kinky.

"The cause of my horror wasn't the gruesome end that awaited me, but something else entirely." Hanging out with these crazy fuckers.

Chapter 1:

Damn, I wrote a lot more than I had expected for the prologue X_X

"My limbs were tightly bound in tight knots" I wouldn't be surprised if Okita was a shibari expert...

"This is no way to treat a guest of ours" Obviously, Inou-bae is trying to be kind but this feels like something a supervillain would say after their minions bring you to their lair X_X

"he smiled at me and winked" get this man a route! Actually, wait, how old is Chizuru... OKAY, FORGET I SAID THAT. NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO FLIRT WITH THIS 16 YEAR OLD GIRL. Although, maybe a dad route? No romance, just familial love. He's a better dad than Kodo. NO DADDY KINKS ALLOWED.

Apparently, Harada and Nagakura being "lively" is supposed to reassure me?!

Ah, Okita and his hilarious jokes about invading my personal space.

I'm so glad that Saito doesn't let him get away with this nonsense <3

And now we're sticking up for Saito and calling out Okita's bs <3

"the smile lingered through his bright eyes" Oo-er

"He looked more like a boy than a man." Says you!

The baka trio look so done X_X

"Their faces were still blessed with youth" Phew. Looks like we'll have some eye candy while we're brutally executed.

A STICK?!? THEY'RE CALLING ME A STICK?! HAVE THEY NOT SEEN THE ANIME INTRO?! CHIZURU HAS TITS!!!

"The hell I will, boy!" Calm down, Kratos.

"You could be taken for interrogating" not if you assholes don't make such a song and dance about me witnessing your shady activities! How would anybody know to interrogate me in the first place?!

"Let's just kill the kid" How about no!!!

"I was just kidding." WERE YOU, or did you just change your tune because daddy Kondou told you off? -_- I don't think Saito's buying your shit.

"Hehe." XD best response!

Side note, how am I the first person to witness the furies in action?! They run around the streets, chopping people up and there are already rumours about the Shinsengumi committing brutal crimes.

Also, how often do they sentence men to death? There are a lot of men in the fury corps and I bet that some choose death or try and run for it and die in the process.

"I think that Souji has a point" BOO, HARADA!

"Uh-oh. Well, this is going to make it even harder for us to simply let you go..." He's doing the not blinking thing again! Maybe that's because his prey is in his sights... O_O Also, thanks a lot, Heisuke X_X

"A man should always be ready to face death. You should make your peace with yours." Okay, first of all, I look like a child to you! Secondly, bit sexist! Not all men choose the path of the warrior. Thirdly, AS IF, I'm just going to lay down and accept my POINTLESS murder just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. No, Nagakura, I am NOT okay with being MURDERED. How dare you imply that I'm a coward for not wanting to die for this BULLSHIT.

Not sure if I mentioned this last time but Sano's casual suicide comments remind me of being at uni :')

"there's something I want to look into." Is it my stuff? Are you going to go through my stuff now? X_X

"I... I'm sorry." I forgive you, Heisuke! As for everyone else who's acting like this is all my fault and you've done nothing wrong, fuck you. Y'all shouldn't be doing evil science in the first place, especially if you're then going to try and justify MURDERING everyone who glimpses the evulz.

This whole bit reminds me of a DnD party where everyone's arguing over whether or not to kill someone. This is definitely more like a DnD argument than your average movie argument X_X

"All right, Saito, take care of the kid." 😍 Yes, Saito, take care of me :D NOT IN A MURDERY WAY O_O

Time to RUN THE FUCK AWAY. Maybe, if they hadn't acted like murdering assholes, I wouldn't be doing this but they don't seem to give a fuck about me so AWAY I GO.

"I knew it was rude, but I had no choice but to try and open the sliding door with my toe." Priorities X_X They kidnapped you, tied you up and threatened to kill you countless times. Honey, you stick it to those fuckers with your shady toe opening.

WE DIDN'T EVEN MAKE IT OUT OF THE ROOM!!!

"Sorry," No your not -_- "but now we've got to kill you." No you don't!

"Then you may do whatever you like with me." Um, why is this the Okita romance option? XD Don't say those words to that sadist, who knows what he wants to do to you! O_O

"We aren't going to eat you or anything." ...Damn X_X I hope that your stance changes if we get married.

"Heh. Never seen such an innocent girl like you." Ugh. As if. Running around dressed as a boy. Can't be that innocent. Certainly not if he read my last comment :P . Anyway, YOU SOUND CREEPY, TALKING LIKE THAT XD

"All right, all right. Now, tell your big brother... Why were you cross-dressing around Kyoto?" THA FUCK DID YOU JUST CALL YOURSELF?!?? And MIND YOUR DAMN BUSINESS XD DON'T KINK SHAME ME!

"Well, 'she' claims to be a girl, but it's not like we have any actual proof, right?" Um, I'M not the one who said that I'm a girl and I DON'T LIKE WHERE THIS IS GOING. I WILL FIGHT YOU FUCKERS IF YOU COME NEAR ME >:(

"My apologies, but I took the liberty of checking through your belongings." I wouldn't mind, except NOT ONCE did they give me a chance to explain myself or plead my case. He could have just asked whatever he wanted to know and then checked my bags to verify it X_X

"Hey now," HEY NOW, NOW, sing this corrosion to me... No? I'll be quiet :(

"So, you've been withholding information from us?" YOU BARELY GAVE ME A CHANCE TO SPEAK, YOU DICK!

Welp, they've agreed not to kill me and yet Okita's still taking it upon himself to threaten me with death while fixing me with his unblinking, predatory stare X_X

"Gee, didn't take long for you to change your tune once you knew she was a girl, eh Shin?" TRUTH

"Having a lady here at headquarters is sure to brighten things up." Joke's on you: I'm a goth ;P

"you can't just pawn her off on someone else." Okita, nooooooo! Don't make me work for this grumpy bitch!

"I hope you you'll take good care of her." Wink wink, nudge nudge. What's the matter, Hijikata senpai? Am I not pretty enough for you? :'(

"You sons of BITCHES." HEY. HIJIKATA. NO NEED TO INSULT THEIR INNOCENT MOTHERS. Just call them straight up bitches :)

"The Shinsengumi keeping a woman here... If such rumours were to spread, tongues would begin to wag." Yeah, yeah, so we might as well just all fuck. People are going to say we're doing it, regardless, so let's get this over with...

Or I could keep pretending to be a man. That could also work.

"You're gonna get a room, and you're gonna stay in it." FUCK YOU

"I could have sworn we decided she was going to be someone's page" O_O FUCK YOU EVEN MORE, OKITA.

So... lonely... must... find... friends...

Okita and Saito friends :D

When I first played this game, I was really keen to find my "father" but now that I know what he's like, it's hard to muster quite the same level of enthusiasm X_X

"Draw your blade, unless it is merely decoration." Spicy! I'm glad that Yukimura is not so easily goaded into fighting.

"I'm not lying." You tell him, girl!

Saito and Okita's stunned faces when you suggest that you might accidentally hurt Saito are priceless! X_X I guess this shows that you take this seriously, though.

"Excuse me... You don't have to laugh..." XD Is this almost sassy?

Surprise, Okita likes it when I do what he says despite understandable reservations XD

Saito looks way too happy to be doing this XD was this just a chance for him to show off? :P

IS HE LAUGHING AT ME?!? XD RUDE!

WHA THA FUCK. I think that it was a glitch but there were suddenly about seven Saitos on screen. Maybe that's what it feels like when you're fighting him.

Woah, it happened again, only this time there were two and one was squashed.

I'm fine with there being more Saitos.

Aaaaand he's holding a sword at my throat... Sploosh? Shut up, swords are sexy. I probably watched too many period and fantasy films as a child...

"In the blink of an eye, his face was only inches from mine," O RLY? 😏 WAIT, I'm supposed to be playing Okita's route X_X Must... stop getting distracted...

"Your master should be proud." SAY IT AGAIN 😍

"I then noticed how wildly my heart was beating." Though not from fear, right? ;)

"You all right?" Kind words? FROM OKITA?!?

"polite applause" FROM OKITA!?!

"If you want, we'll keep you company." Yes, Okita, obviously I want that :D

First sign of madness: talking to your own head!

Okita could look less smug about catching me talking to myself -_-

"I wanted to scream, but before I could open my mouth, Saito stepped out from behind the door." X_X Well, they did say they'd keep me company.

"I think that's enough fraternising, Souji." Wait a second...

"I figured if I left the two of you alone, it would be longer before I saw either of you," ... Why does that sound slightly risqué? -_- I feel like this scene changes slightly depending on your affection levels...

-_- The only reason Heisuke is short is because Nagakura's stunted his growth by constantly stealing his food.

"How are we to deal with accepting such insanity?" MOOD.

Wait, does Okita subsist entirely on sake?! O_O

"Try not to worry about eating too much or being a freeloader or something. Just eat your little heart out, okay?" Surprisingly wholesome content from Okita :')

Takeda! <3 My douchey doppelganger!

"your adorable page" -_- Watch it, "big brother"

"I'm not having any of your insolence today." Hijikata temporarily transforming into a villainous English aristocrat.

And after aaaaallll that, I'm just going to stay behind to spend some quality time with Okita, probably X_X

"Huh!? Why? You're finally getting the chance to search for Kodo." GOOD POINT. However, gotta get that dick, amirite?

"Perhaps, I should have gone..." YUP. PROBABLY.

"Are you regretting it? If you are, then you should've just gone with them." TRUTH.

"He smiled wryly before continuing while touching my chin." WEEEEOOOOA WEEEEEOOOOA PHYSICAL CONTACT ALARM. WE HAVE INITIATED PHYSICAL CONTACT. IT WAS WORTH STAYING BEHIND AFTER ALL!

"You don't regret it at all? Not even if you knew that Hajime and I went out of our way to convince Hijikata?" Aw, y'all did that for me? Yeah, this is a terrible decision X_X Except for the part with the chin touching. I guess stalking you overrides all logic?

"I was surprised. Saito did make that promise" and what? You thought he was a liar? Girl.

"It was actually Hajime that convinced Hijikata." Not sure if Okita's being modest but this is making it reeeeally hard for me to stop myself fangirling over Saito. Again.

"When I see Saito later, I need to apologise and give my thanks to him." YOU BETTER. >:(

Did he just call me useless (in a battle)? XD I mean, he's not wrong... As we will no doubt soon find out...

Wait, wait... He just said that if I'm in danger, I will become a nuisance and he'll FRICKIN' STAB ME. WHAT?! DOESN'T THAT MAKE YOU THE GREATEST DANGER, OKITA!??

Chapter 2:

Did we ever apologise to Saito? X_X

"Please allow me to continue looking for my father!" Where was this enthusiasm earlier -_-

"If you want that risk, feel free to join us." Ooooooh, scary.

"Remember that you're here to keep me company" Um, excuse me!?

Burn down the city and kidnap the Emperor while everyone else is "losing their shit." This seems like the plan of crazy people o_O

"Would you care to join us." Kondou's making this raid sound like a dinner party X_X

Chizuru getting distracted by the more "elegant" night uniforms while preparing for the raid is a Big Mood.

Am I going crazy or does this game normally give me more choices here? Am I being paranoid or is it now shipping me with Okita? Can't I normally choose to go with Hijikata or stay behind?

"Giving the enemy a good, loud warning that he's about to kick the tar out of them. That's Kondou for you..." Okita kind of has a point X_X

"They sauntered towards the inn" Quite the image.

Oh shit! Okita's fighting Kazama O_O

"Okita was battling a ronin." Damn, you're lucky that Kazama can't read minds X_X

"Thanks for the dance, chump." -_- Kazama's such a dick.

"You're our enemy, so you've gotta die." Okita's philosophy is simple and elegant.

"His sword moved in large, crude arcs, while Okita fought with skill and finesse." Wow, SUPER glad that Kazama can't read minds O_O

EXECUTE PLAN: HURL BOWL AT KAZAMA.

IT'S SUPER EFFECTIVE: OKITA SENPAI NOTICED ME.

Wait... WHAT WAS THAT "WET CRUNCH" WHEN KAZAMA KICKED OKITA'S CHEST!??!? O_O IS THIS HOW HE GETS TB?!? O_O

"Wet, tearing coughs." OH FUCK O_O

"I like watching children squirm." WTF, Kazama. BEGONE, THOT.

:'O Injured Okita is trying to put himself between me and that crazy bitch <3

Oh damn, he is coughing e blood :'O

"What a fool" UUUURRRRGGGGH KAZAMA IS THE WORST. SOME PEOPLE CARE ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE, KAZAMA. AND SOME PEOPLE ARE WILLING TO PUT THEMSELVES IN DANGER BECAUSE THEY CARE ABOUT MORE THAN THEIR OWN SELFISH NEEDS.

"I... I can still fight..." NO.

"You always said you'd kill me if I got in your way..." OOOOOOOOOOOH! HERE WE GO! THE FAÇADE BEGINS TO SHOW CRACKS *munches popcorn*

Iba... y u no mention our shared childhood?

ISHIDA POWDERED MEDICINE.

Nagakura says that it's delicious... I wonder if it tastes like cough medicine. Cough medicine is delicious. And addictive...

"I would never have thought that Toudou or Okita would return from a fight injured..." Why, Inoue? Are skilled and strong warriors invincible?

"The injured are a burden, so we shall remain here and guard the compound like obedient soldiers." O_O Ouch, Sanan!

Wait, I don't get a choice to go with them?! I KNEW IT. THIS GAME KNOOOOOWS! I'm too far down the Okita path to turn back now, I guess.

"Um... " Chizuru is me trying to make small talk.

Weird isn't necessarily a bad thing, Chizuru! Take it as a compliment!

I feel bad for not realising how badly injured he got during the raid during my other playthroughs X_X

I thought that I'd somehow missed the scene with the children because this playthrough's taking so long because I'm making so many fricking notes X_X Turns out, I have a lot more to say when you actually get to spend time with the chosen boi.

"Oh, don't worry. I didn't kidnap them or anything." ... GOOD!????

"I was bored" Hey, I get lonesome too! Why can't you come play with me? D:

"They take care of me." Pretty cute. :3

"You wanna come play with us?" Duh!

"No" GURL

He really does look like a happy cat when he smiles!

Wow, these children have a lot of attitude.

"It's a place for men to do, um, work." Yes, just normal human work. Nothing funny going on here.

"They're catching bad guys and keeping Kyoto safe" "No, they're not. They're just killing people." These kids are SAVAGE :')

"Can't deny that" ... Way to back me up, Souji...

"I probably hear him talk about death everyday." Wait, really? What exactly does he have to say about death?

"The Shinsengumi are a bunch a weirdos." :') And that makes them extremely lovable!

Last time, I tried defending the Shinsengumi and Okita ended up terrorising a child so LET'S PICK THE OTHER OPTION AND SEE IF THERE'S LESS CRAZY...

"Don't tell me you're taking this seriously?" CHILDREN ARE THE FUTURE, OKITA!

"They all look like bad guys." Why? Because they're hot?

"I didn't know what I was supposed to do..." Uh, maybe tell this childries not to judge a book by its cover? Idk, maybe try and suggest that the world is not so black and white? Definitely don't mention the bloodlust.

"Grinning like an idiot." You're just jealous of his happiness, you cynical-ass child

"He's a wuss." UM, pretty sure he's the most powerful member of the Shinsengumi so stfu :P

"He grabbed the child" Oh dear... Here we go...

Okita! Use your words to teach the children a lesson! Not whatever this fucked up shit is X_X

Ah, ruling with fear! :') When has that ever backfired?

"I'll tell them I'm sorry. Then I'll tell them how awesome Kondou is." GUD. >:(

Uuuuugh, I'm so so tired and I've written so much CRAP so I will SLEEP and play the next bit tomorrow! :D